“Bella! No!” Lucas yanked on my leash. I looked at him, startled. No? What had I done?
“You don’t want that yucky smell on you, Bella,” Olivia told me. We walked away and I glanced back in regret, wanting that perfume on my fur.
“Things still dicey with the landlord?” Olivia asked.
“Honestly I think they are doing a don’t-ask, don’t-tell. As long as Bella doesn’t bark, no one is going to complain, and we have a system where I check left and right and then take her right to the street. If none of the other tenants officially notifies them, I think we’re okay. Bella does a good job of No Barks.”
I glanced up, startled. No Barks? What did that mean in this context?
“So, I had fun the other night,” Olivia observed after a moment.
Lucas smiled. “Me, too. It was like a date, with insults.”
“You’re the one who made fun of my driving.”
“I didn’t make fun of it, I just noted that I didn’t expect to run over so many pedestrians.”
“You know, this is America. You could buy a car and then I could sit in the passenger seat and scream while you drive.”
“Stop, I didn’t scream, I was too terrified to make a sound. Anyway I’m finding public transportation to be more than adequate. It’s good for the environment; maybe you should try it.”
“I just am amazed to find myself dating the bus boy.”
“Dating? So we’re dating. Like, officially.”
“I just made a serious error.”
“No, this will be good for you. You’ll finally be dating a guy who doesn’t have to put in a once-a-week call to a parole officer.”
“We’ve had one date, don’t pick out your china pattern just yet,” Olivia said.
“I’m changing my Facebook status.”
“Oh, God.”
“I’m going to go to med school next fall. I don’t need a car until then—my mom and I can walk to the VA and the stores, and Denver’s got a great bus system. Plus, the woman I’m dating has a car.”
“This is the worst day of my life.” When we turned up our street, Olivia put a hand out to touch his arm. “What’s with all the police?”
*
I had heard the word “police” before, and associated it with the people with the dark clothes and the metal things on their hips.
“I don’t know. Looks like somebody called the cops for something,” Lucas said. “It’s not my mom, though; they’re all across the street from our place.”
“It’s a protest. See?” Olivia pointed.
We were stopped, which frustrated me because I wanted to go see everyone who was standing on the sidewalk in front of the den. Some were holding large sheets of paper on sticks, waving them in the air.
“I took video of the cats and of the demolition permit. Someone put it on Facebook or something.” Lucas was tapping on his phone. Then he held it out for Olivia to look at. I yawned. Phones are boring. “Perfect! Look, my mom cut in the shot of the backhoe pulling up on the trailer and the rest is the video I took in the crawl space. She tagged every animal activist in the city with it.”
“That’s awesome. I love your mom; she’s a rebel. Unlike some people I could mention,” Olivia said.
“See the guy who looks so angry? That’s Gunter. He’s the one who wants to tear down the place. I think he’d call me a rebel. He told me he was going to bribe an animal control officer to certify there were no cats.”
“He told you that? Not real bright.”
“He pretty much feels he can do whatever he wants in the world.”
“That’s a news van.” Olivia pointed again. “Looks like you’re going to be famous.”
“I won’t forget you or any of the little people who made this possible.”
“Oh, I know you’ll never forget me.”
Lucas left me with Olivia. He talked to some of the people, including someone I had smelled before, the woman named Audrey. There were several people in dark clothes, and they stood in the street and waved at cars. At one point someone put a bright light on Lucas’s face while Olivia held my leash.
Her hand still smelled a little like the chicken.
*
I was glad to see Mom when we finally turned away and went home. Then Lucas and Olivia left, which upset me until Mom put food in my bowl.
I heard the loud chime and did No Barks. Mom went to the door, blocking me with her legs, and it was the smoky-meat man, Gunter. “Is your son home, ma’am?”
“No, he’s out.”
“My name is Gunter Beckenbauer.”
“Yes, I know who you are,” Mom replied coolly.
“Do you know what your son did tonight?”
“Yes.”
“He had a bunch of his friends stage a phony protest on my property. Why is he doing this to me? What the hell did I ever do to either one of you?”
“I think he is just trying to save some innocent animals.”
“My website got all these death threats. I could sue your asses.”
Mom was apparently not going to let me get any closer to Gunter to sniff him, though I was really interested by the meaty fragrance on his clothing. I sat down.
“Let me ask you something,” Mom said. “Why don’t you just let the rescue people go in there and capture the remaining cats? That would solve everything.”
“Those houses are condemned. They’re falling apart. Someone gets hurt under there, it’s a huge liability.”
“So, they’d sign a release. Absolve you of liability.”
“Look, you know what this is about? That’s my property, and your son has been breaking and entering and feeding the damn cats, which is the only reason they are even there! Now it’s winter. You know how much more expensive construction is when it’s below freezing? He created this problem, it’s his fault, and if a bunch of cats get squished it’s on him. Post that to your social website.” Gunter was pointing his smoky meat finger at Mom’s face. He sounded very angry, and I felt the fur rising on the back of my neck. A growl grew inside me, but I didn’t make a sound. Did No Barks mean I wasn’t supposed to growl?
Mom gazed at Gunter without any expression on her face. “Are you through?”
“You do not want to go to war with me, lady.”
“War.” Mom took a step toward the man, staring at him. I could feel strong emotions coming off her. “You think this is war? You don’t know anything about war.”
The man shifted his gaze. “Dog’s getting pretty big. What is that, a pit bull? How can you have a dog here? I know the management, isn’t a dog against your lease?”
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Beckenbauer?”
“I just want it on the record that I tried to work things out on a friendly basis.”
“The record shows you came over here to say we’re going to war. Good night.” Mom shut the door. As she did, the tension left her muscles, but she seemed tired. “Oh, Bella,” she said softly, “I have a really bad feeling about this.”
*