The Dog in the Freezer (3 page)

Outside there were kids by the picnic tables and over by the pond. I saw Tina with some girls and near them, lurking, were Ron Rat and Ernie. I circled around the other side of the pond, by the edge of the woods, and let Gregory out of the knapsack. Poor Gregory! He was desperate to go. He made a dash for the bushes.

I got worried when he didn't come right back, and I started yelling, “Gregory! Here, boy!”

“Who are you calling Gregory, Gregory?” Tina said, coming over to me. She was sipping on her water bottle.

“Little Gregory,” I said lamely.

“Who?”

“Him,” I said as Gregory came out of the bushes.

“You call your dog by your name? That's unique!” She sipped from her water bottle. “Little Gregory and big Gregory. Who else would have thought of that?”

“Only sometimes,” I said. “Here, Einstein!”

I unwrapped the sandwiches. “Einstein, which one do you want?”

“Can you tell which one he wants?” Tina said.

“Watch,” I said. “Tuna? Cheese? Peanut butter?” I held each one up separately.

Gregory barked for the peanut butter and I gave him the sandwich.

Tina couldn't get over it. “He is the most brilliant dog.”

“He's a mutt,” Ron said, coming out from behind a tree.

“Who, Einstein?” Tina said. “He's no mutt.”

“He's not the only mutt around.” Ron gave me a big sneering smile.

The hair on the back of my head bristled. I sensed someone behind me, and I looked around and caught Ernie sneaking up on Gregory.

“No you don't!” I snatched up Gregory just in time.

“Come on, Tina,” Ron said, “let's go for a walk in the woods. I want to show you the spring flowers.”

“Yeah, flowers,” Ernie leered. “Go for it, Tina.”

“Shut up,” Ron said, and kicked him in the butt.

Tina stroked Gregory's neck. “Imagine calling you a mutt. You're a brilliant scientist, aren't you, Einstein?” She kissed him on top of his head. Gregory looked soulfully at her. “You have the most beautiful eyes,” she said, and gave him another kiss.

“She's kissing a dog,” Ernie yelled. “Look at her, Ron.”

Ron was a rat, but Ernie was a complete idiot.

12
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There was team practice that
afternoon. Gregory was on the sidelines and did his best to help me. I bounced the ball too hard at first and sent it flying up to the beams. Gregory barked at me sharply and ran out on the court and got yelled at. But then I got the hang of it, running with the ball and dribbling it. Maybe the moves were in my body—I mean, Gregory's body—because it wasn't that hard. But then dogs are naturally athletic.

Coach blew his whistle, and we started passing the ball. When I got it, I didn't want to give it up. I guess you could say my dog instincts took over. I took it to the basket. “Pass the ball, Oshun,” Coach yelled.

My other weakness was my eyesight. Dogs can smell ten thousand different things, but they're not known for their great eyesight. I could see the hoop, but it was a little fuzzy, and at first my shots were either too short or too long.

“Stay with it,” Coach said. “Don't lose your confidence.”

The first time I sent the ball through the hoop, I got so excited I leaped up and barked, “Go! Go! Go!”

“Way to go! Keep it up, Oshun!” Coach yelled. He took me aside later and said, “You're doing great. I'm going to be looking to you for outside shooting tonight.”

On the way home, Gregory ran ahead, then looked back and barked. He wanted me to hurry up. I was too slow for him. He was acting more like me, and I was acting more like him. At the house he got the ball from the garage and nosed it out into the driveway, where we had a basketball hoop set up. “I'm tired,” I said, sounding just like him. “Coach wants me to rest up.”

Gregory made me stay out there and shoot baskets. A set of ten from the foul line. “Okay?” I said. Gregory nosed the ball to another position, and I had to shoot ten more.

He was in charge, herding me around, barking at me.

When we finally went in, I collapsed on the rug in front of the TV and fell asleep. I didn't wake up till Mom and Dad came home. The TV was on and Gregory was
lying against me with the remote under his paw.

“Look how relaxed that boy is,” Dad said. “That's the mark of a big talent!”

“What's Einstein doing with the remote control?” Mom said.

I tweaked his ears. Gregory was surfing channels, the way he always did.

13
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The gym was packed that
night. The yellow and black Stephens Academy buses were lined up outside. They'd come out in force. Everyone from our school was there, too. It was standing room only. When our team came out on the court, a big cheer went up from our side of the gym. Tina was leading the cheers. Dad and Mom were sitting in the front row. Gregory was with them. Ron and Ernie were there, too, behind the team bench.

In the opening huddle, Coach said the Stephens team was taller and heavier, but we were more agile and faster. He wanted us to move the ball. “Don't let them trap you. Pass, pass, pass. Don't force the shots. If you see an opening, take a shot.”

When the game started, I was on the bench. Dreyfus made a couple of quick outside baskets for us, and we went ahead. Those first scores sent a roar through the gym. Then Stephens evened things, and their side roared. When they went ahead, there wasn't a sound from our side. For a while they seemed to get every rebound and block every shot we attempted. But we came back and evened the score.

It went back and forth that way. Dreyfus began looking sick again, and Coach sent me in to give him a breather. All my outside shots missed. Gregory kept barking at me. Stephens tried to steal the ball out of my hands, but I hung on. I wouldn't let go. I ran with it and was called for walking.

“It's not a football, Oshun,” Coach yelled. “Dribble the ball, bounce it, pass it!”

At the half we were down fourteen points. Dad came over. “I'm taking Einstein outside. You're doing great, son. You looked fabulous on the court.”

“Thanks, Dad.” I had to wonder about his eyesight. Maybe he'd been a dog once, too.

In the locker room, Coach gave us another pep talk. We had to take more shots. Pass the ball more. “You guys are standing around too much.”

“Coach, I'm going to puke,” Dreyfus said, and staggered to the bathroom.

“Well, Oshun.” Coach looked at me, and he sighed. “Think you can get that practice magic back?” he said.

I didn't know what to say. There were no words.

When we went out for the second half, Gregory had crawled under the bench. I saw the whites of his eyes.
Do it for me,
his eyes said.
You've got to do it.

Coach put me into the game.

“There goes the game, folks,” Ron sneered. “Greg-o-ree is playing.”

I did what Coach said. I passed the ball. Whenever I was open, I took the outside shot. The Stephens players
kept jumping in my face, and I missed. I got jarred. I was tripped and fell a couple of times, but no fouls were called. Under the bench Gregory was curled up, shaking.

Stephens was up fifteen points. Coach pulled me out and put Dreyfus back in, but he couldn't do anything either. Stephens went up twenty points. Then twenty-five. Not a sound from our side of the gym. Then Dreyfus took an elbow in the midsection, and he went down and stayed down.

Coach sent me in again. There was nobody else. He didn't even tell me to do anything. The light had faded from his eyes. The game was lost. The Stephens team were high-fiving and grinning. I kept trying, but I couldn't make a basket. Each time I grabbed for the ball, it was somewhere else. The Stephens players were toying with me. I kept lunging for the ball and they kept throwing it over my head.

Somewhere in there, I stopped trying to play like a boy and started playing like a dog. I wanted the ball. I went for it. I went low. I went high. I scrambled. I got the ball. The first time I got it, I went for the basket, head down, dribbling, dodging, cutting one way and then the other. At the basket, I leaped up and dropped it in.

I did it again. I was low, so I went under one guy's arm and around two others, then leaped high. Again the ball went in. Their big guys blocked the basket. I kept leaping one way and then the other, the way a dog can leap, the way I leaped for the Frisbee when Gregory and I played. And the ball kept going in.

At first, we were so far behind nobody thought it mattered. Stephens had the ball. They were passing. I saw the ball in the air and snatched it like a Frisbee in flight. Before any of their players could catch me, I was down court and had another basket. Afterward, Dad told me, “That steal was the turning point of the game. When you made that basket the whole gym started screaming and it never stopped.”

Gregory Oshun was the hero of the game. I mean I was, but it was “Gregory” they were screaming. We won by only a handful of points, but it was enough. “Gregory! Gregory!” My name, his name, our name was being called from all sides. Someone was taking pictures. I was hoisted up and carried around the gym. I saw Tina. I saw Dad and Mom. Gregory was smiling at me from the bench. Everyone was smiling at me.

14
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When I came out of
the locker room, the celebration was still going on in the parking lot. Mom and Dad were waiting by our car. “You're the star,” Dad said. I got hugged and kissed again.

Tina was with her parents, but she ran over and hugged me. “I'm a friend of Gregory's,” Tina said to Mom. “He's my best friend!”

“Well, then, come have ice cream with us to celebrate,” Mom said.

“Where's that cute Einstein?” Tina said.

“I gave him to your friends to walk,” Dad said to me. “They offered. They should be coming back right away.”

“Friends?” I said. “Who?”

“There were two of them. One was tall and the other one—”

“That might be Ron and Ernie,” Tina said.

“Nice boys!” Dad said.

Nice boys? He didn't know Ron and Ernie the way I did. Tina didn't either. Nobody did. I ran back to the school. The gym was empty. The custodians were sweeping with their big brooms. I went to the locker room. What if they'd stuffed Gregory into one of the lockers? “Gregory!” I yelled. “If you hear my voice, bark!”

“What'd you lose?” a custodian said.

“My dog. Have you seen him?”

“He's probably home looking for you.”

I wanted it to be true, but I knew it wasn't. Gregory never took good care of himself.

Tina was waiting outside. “Did you find him, Gregory?”

I shook my head.

Tina went up on her toes trying to see out over the cars. “They could be anywhere, the woods or the pond. Don't look so worried, Gregory. I'm sure Einstein's fine.”

“The pond!” I said. I took off running.

15
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There was a small island
in the middle of the pond and a narrow wooden walkway that crossed to it. That's where I found Ron and Ernie. They were holding a plastic bag.

When they saw me they swung the bag between them like a pendulum, up and back, then they flung it into the
pond. I heard Gregory's panicked bark, and then a splash as the bag hit the water. Ron and Ernie high-fived.

I dove into the pond, went down, and felt along the bottom. It was all slime and mud. I came up with a handful of black gunk and branches. Tina shouted at me to go out farther.

I dove again and groped along the bottom. This time I found the bag and tore the plastic open with my teeth. Gregory was inside. He was limp. I grabbed him around the middle and brought him up to the surface. He coughed and struggled against me. We thrashed and went under again, down into the muck. We came up, still locked together. I clung to him. I held his hair in my teeth and pulled him to shore.

Tina waded out to us. “Oh, Gregory, that was so brave! And Einstein, you were brave, too! Poor thing!”

I ran up on the shore and shook myself dry. I was a dog again! Gregory sat on the bank, coughing and spitting up water and trying to pull on his clothes. “Gregory,” I said, “Gregory, look at us!” But all I could do was bark.

16
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Ron and Ernie were still
on the walkway. I growled and showed my teeth. I leaped toward them. Gregory was a step behind me. One impulse seemed to grip both of us. It was as if my dog energy was still in him, and his boy energy was still in me. Ron and Ernie stared. Maybe they couldn't believe what they saw—a fighting mad Gregory and an avenging dog.

We hit them like two slam-dunking ballplayers, like a
couple of raging tacklers. Like a runaway steamroller. I hit them low and Gregory hit them high. We sent them spinning into the water like a couple of bowling pins.

“Help!” Ron yelled. He threw his arms around Ernie's neck. “I can't swim.”

Ernie punched Ron and broke free. He swam to shore and ran off. Ron went under. He came up choking and crying. “I'm drowning. Help!” He went down again.

I would have let him drown. But Gregory ran to the island and came back with a branch that he held out to Ron. He clung to it, and Gregory and Tina pulled him to shore.

“Thank you for saving my life,” Ron said. Then he looked at his shirt. It was filthy and torn. “My designer shirt!” There were tears in his eyes. “Do you know what this shirt cost me? Why did you throw me in the water, Oshun!” He looked down at his sneakers and moaned and held his head. Then he ran off.

17
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I know this is not
an ordinary story, but all I can say is that it happened to us. To me and Gregory. Maybe you'll believe me if I tell you how it ended.

Gregory returned to himself, but he was never quite the same. He told Dad that he wasn't going to play basketball anymore. He'd played because his brothers played and because Dad wanted him to. He'd never cared that much about it, and especially not now, with everyone expecting him to go on playing the way he had that night against Stephens.