Webster Page 7

  Nowhere—not even on a single page—in the Bad Hat Handbook, did it say that he was ever required to be nice.

  Jack brushed his muddy paw across his eyes. “I am so sad right now.”

  Was he going to pull out a violin next? “Okay, okay,” the Bad Hat said impatiently. “How about if I let you walk with me for one hour?”

  “That’s all?” Jack asked.

  “It’s very generous,” the Bad Hat said.

  “Not hardly, but okay.” Jack took one step forward, then stopped. “We don’t have watches, and I don’t see any clocks. How will we know how much time has passed?”

  So much nitpicking. It was exhausting. “We’ll estimate,” the Bad Hat said.

  Jack looked dubious. “That’s not very scientific.”

  “Then, we’ll figure it out from the position of the sun in the sky,” the Bad Hat said.

  Jack cocked his head. “Seriously?”

  Yes. The Bad Hat decided that he was tired of worrying about details, so he just started walking down the road.

  “Wait up!” Jack said, and trotted after him.

  The dog set a fairly brisk pace. He had things to do and places to see, even if he wasn’t sure what any of them were.

  “If we can’t have an effortless conversation while we run, we’re going too fast,” Jack panted.

  “Can’t we run quietly and commune with nature?” the Bad Hat asked.

  “No,” Jack said. “We’re supposed to talk about our lives, and bond.” Then, he laughed. “Look at your expression! Man, are you easy to scare! It’s okay, we can just walk around.”

  Whew. They didn’t have to bond. Relaxing a little, the Bad Hat slowed down, so that Jack would have an easier time keeping up.

  There were small houses tucked in among the trees, and they could see long, steep, winding driveways. The Bad Hat was also relieved to notice some signs of life here and there. Shades up, lights on, cars in the driveways, and he caught the scents of people, and even some pets, inside a few of the cottages. Once, he even smelled breakfast cooking—bacon and eggs and toast—and the smell was so enticing that he stopped in his tracks to sniff it for as long as possible.

  Wow, was he hungry. “Do you smell that?” he asked. “Bacon and everything!”

  “Bet you’re sorry you missed out on the gravy,” Jack said.

  He was extremely sorry.

  As they rounded a curve, the Bad Hat saw the shimmer of water, and realized that a lot of the houses were near a big, beautiful lake. In fact, there were a bunch of cottages built right along the shoreline. They made their way through the woods and down to the water’s edge, so that they could get a closer look.

  There were rustic cabins, pretty cottages, tiny grassy lawns, pine and birch trees, wooden docks, and lots of small boats pulled up onto the land or anchored to little buoys. Canoes, rowboats, kayaks, sailboats, and a few motorboats. A range of forest-green mountains rose up above the lake, and he could see a bunch of other cottages over there on the other side.

  “This is nice,” Jack said.

  The Bad Hat had to agree. If this was what New Hampshire was like, it was a pretty cool place.

  They stood there, and admired the view for a while.

  It was such a beautiful lake! And the air smelled so pure! When the Bad Hat had been back in Arkansas, he had gone swimming in a pond once, and it had been really fun, even though he saw a water moccasin and had to dash back to shore, as fast as his puppy legs would take him. A lake this large and beautiful would be even more fun to swim in. Especially if there weren’t any snakes. Or eels, or snapping turtles, or—well, at least the lake looked pretty.

  “Let’s go check it out,” he said, and trotted down one of the driveways, which sloped down to the edge of the water.

  “Okay, but don’t get too close,” Jack said. “We don’t want to get wet.”

  Terriers were wimps. Of course, they wanted to get wet!

  It was windy, and the Bad Hat closed his eyes, so that he could focus on all of the interesting smells in the air. The water was lapping softly against the rocky shore, and it was a soothing sound. Maybe they should take a swim, and then find a comfortable spot where they could settle down, and enjoy a nap in the sunshine?

  “We should go swimming,” he said.

  Jack shook his head. “No way. It looks too cold.”

  The Bad Hat stuck his front paw in the water to test the temperature. A little chilly, but not enough to make him yelp.

  “Is it awful?” Jack asked, quivering slightly at the very thought.

  “No, it feels good,” the Bad Hat said, and checked the water with his paw again. Hmmm. Maybe not chilly, so much as icy.

  Rough and tough as he was, perhaps he should wait until the sun was higher in the sky, and warmed the water up a little? It wasn’t as though they were on a tight schedule.

  “It looks deep, too,” Jack said uneasily.

  Certainly, the Bad Hat would go ahead and swim right now, if he really felt like it. He just didn’t, that’s all. It had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature.

  “Well, if you’re going to be a big baby about the water, we can go explore someplace else,” the Bad Hat said magnanimously.

  “Fine with me,” Jack said, already heading up the driveway.

  They were loping back up to the dirt road, when they heard a strange sound and stopped to look at each other.

  “What was that?” Jack asked.

  The Bad Hat listened more carefully. Glurg? Or glurp? Weird. Like a person was trying to talk, with a mouthful of water. Which seemed like a dumb idea to him, but who was he to judge?

  Except now the sound suddenly seemed panicky. It was coming from out in the lake somewhere, but the Bad Hat couldn’t see anything other than the various boats, some small, choppy waves, and a few big rocks. Nothing particularly alarming.

  The mysterious noise echoed weakly across the water again, and this time, it sounded like a waterlogged “Help!”

  Someone was in trouble out there!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  He and Jack stared at each other.

  “What do we do?” Jack asked.

  “I don’t know,” the Bad Hat said, and squinted out at the lake. It was hard to see if there might be a person’s head out there, bobbing in the strong current.

  “Help!” the voice yelled, and now he saw an arm wave frantically in the water, a couple hundred yards away.

  Even though he had renounced all contact with human beings for the rest of his life, and was seriously considering being an unrepentant villain, in this particular case, he maybe had to make an exception to his rule. Just this once.

  “Come on!” he said, and took a running start and dove into the water. It was cold, and he heard himself make a small, high-pitched bark that sounded like “Yipe!”

  “Um, maybe I should wait here,” Jack said, pacing nervously at the water’s edge.

  The Bad Hat ignored that, and started paddling out towards the person who was in danger.

  He’d only gotten to swim that one time, long ago, but he was happy to see that he was good at it. His legs knew exactly what to do, and he noticed that when he used his tail, too, sweeping it back and forth, that he could move even faster.

  “You can do it, Bad Hat!” Jack yelled.

  The dog was concentrating so hard on the swimming, that he almost went right by the person.

  It was an older man, who was gasping and choking and flailing.

  “Glurp,” the man said hoarsely.

  Whatever. The details didn’t really matter, at the moment.

  The man was wearing bathing trunks and a thin shirt made of some kind of weird material. The Bad Hat thought it might be called neoprene? Either way, he experimentally tugged on the sleeve with his teeth, and was pleased to see that he could get a good, solid grip.

  The man was so scared that he clutched at the Bad Hat’s neck—and promptly pulled them both underwater.

  Which really wasn’t
helpful.

  The Bad Hat thrashed back up to the surface and coughed out most of the lake water he had just swallowed. Then, he stuck his muzzle in the water, fastened his teeth around the collar of the thick shirt, and started swimming towards the shore.

  “Come on, Bad Hat!” Jack said, standing up on his hind legs and waving his front paws in the air. “I’m right over here!”

  Very helpful. Although the current was pretty strong, so maybe it was good to have a furry landmark.

  Wow, the man was heavy. And it was hard to keep both of their heads above the water. But, the Bad Hat churned steadily forward, dragging the man along next to him. Little waves kept splashing up, into the dog’s face and nose—and he would have trouble breathing for a couple of seconds—but he kept his gaze on the shoreline and swam on without pausing.

  It seemed to take forever, but finally, his paws scraped against sand and rocks, and he stopped swimming, because he could walk from here.

  The man was trying to stand up by himself, but couldn’t seem to make his legs work right. So, the Bad Hat ignored his feeble attempts, and pulled him up onto the cement driveway. He gently deposited the man there, and then released the shirt from his teeth. It was good to be able to move his jaw freely again, and he shook off some of the water from his coat. Wow, that lake was seriously cold.

  “I can take it from here,” Jack said confidently, and nudged the man’s face with one paw.

  Whatever. The Bad Hat looked down at the man, who was coughing and exhausted, but didn’t seem to be drowned or anything. In fact, he was trying to talk, even though he still couldn’t quite catch his breath.

  “Maybe we should go get some help,” Jack said.

  The Bad Hat snorted some more water out of his nostrils, and then sniffed the air. It smelled as though one of the nearby cottages might be occupied. “Over there,” he said. “Let’s go!”

  So, they raced over to the house, stood outside the back door, and began barking.

  After a while, the door opened and a woman stood there, holding a spatula.

  Whoa, was she going to hit them with that? Just in case, the Bad Hat jumped back and out of the way.

  Although the spatula smelled so deliciously of fried ham, that getting smacked with it might sting a lot less than it would have otherwise.

  “Who are you two?” the woman asked, sounding curious.

  Whoa. Totally existential question. The Bad Hat stopped barking to do a little inventory of his life, and the various problems he was grappling with—wait. There was a much more pressing issue. So, he went back to barking.

  “Have you ever seen Lassie?” Jack asked. “That’s what we need to do.”

  “Who’s Lassie?” the Bad Hat asked.

  Jack looked horrified. “You don’t know who Lassie is? Bad Hat, you just failed on so many levels, that I don’t even know how to—” He shook his head. “Watch and learn.” He backed up a few feet across the lady’s yard, barked, returned to her door, and then repeated the whole process, going further this time.

  “What does that accomplish?” the Bad Hat asked.

  “It’ll make her follow us,” Jack said, and did it again.

  The woman looked around suspiciously. “Is this some kind of reality-show stunt? Because I really have no interest in being on television.”

  Well, the Bad Hat didn’t, either, unless maybe someone wanted to buy the rights to his life story, and he had script approval and an executive-producer credit.

  Regardless, he joined Jack in his run-away-come-back-run-away motion a few times.

  “Where are your owners?” the woman asked.

  The Bad Hat looked at Jack. “She’s not very smart.”

  Jack shrugged. “Mostly, people aren’t, as far as I know. We’ll have to keep trying.”

  It felt like a waste of time, but because the Bad Hat had the steely-eyed patience of a saint, he kept running back and forth with Jack until the lady finally got the idea. She put down the spatula, took off her slippers, and stepped into a pair of untied hiking boots. Then, she followed them past two cottages, to the driveway where the man was still wheezing and trying to get up.

  “Oh, no!” she said. “Vern, what happened?”

  “Got a cramp while I was doing my swim,” the man groaned. “But, your dogs saved me.” Then, he paused. “You don’t have a dog, Margie.”

  “No, I don’t,” the woman agreed, fishing a cell phone out of the pocket of her sweatpants.

  “No, please, I’m fine,” the man protested, as she called for an ambulance.

  “Hush, Vern,” she said. “We need to have the paramedics come and check you out, to be sure.”

  “We saved him!” Jack barked proudly to the Bad Hat. “We’re like heroes!”

  “What ‘we,’ little man?” the Bad Hat asked.

  Jack just strutted around, giving the man an encouraging pat with his paw every so often.

  “Whose dogs are these?” Vern asked. He was sitting up now, but still looking pale. “I can’t think of anyone on Whittemore Point who owns dogs like these.”

  No one was ever going to own the Bad Hat. Oh, no. Not happening.

  “See if you can catch them,” Vern said. “We need to make sure that they get home safely.”

  Margie nodded and reached for the Bad Hat—who dodged adroitly out of the way. Then, she tried to pick up Jack, who leaped gracefully and spun away from her. She kept trying to corral them, and the dogs found it childishly easy to elude her—repeatedly. In fact, it was an entertaining game, and the Bad Hat was enjoying himself.

  “This is fun!” Jack said.

  The Bad Hat totally agreed.

  The chase went on for a little while longer, until Margie finally stopped, out of breath.

  “Come here, boys,” Margie said, holding out a friendly hand for them to sniff. “No one’s going to hurt you. We just want to get you home.”

  Never happen. Although the Bad Hat thought of a possible backup plan. “She smells like breakfast meat,” he said. “Maybe we should let her catch us, just long enough to have some food, and then we can escape again.”

  Jack hesitated—which gave Margie a chance to scoop him up into her arms.

  “Oh, wow,” Jack said, as she swooped him into the air. “That wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  “Want me to knock her down?” the Bad Hat asked, poised to leap.

  Jack frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe she would be a good owner for us. This could be our new home.”

  When was he going to grasp that the Bad Hat didn’t want a home? He was his own home. Complete independence was like, the hallmark of his creed.

  “What a good boy,” Margie said, stroking Jack’s head. “Can you help me catch your friend?”

  Jack grinned wickedly at the Bad Hat, who gave him a very evil look in return.

  Just then, they heard sirens, and an ambulance and a police car showed up.

  “That’s our cue, little man,” the Bad Hat said.

  “To do what?” Jack asked.

  “To get out of here already,” the Bad Hat said. “We’re lawless creatures, who run with the wind.”

  “She has ham in that house, with our names on it,” Jack said.

  Which was a good point, but it was still time to go. “Sorry, I’m out of here,” the Bad Hat said. “You’d better pitch a fit or something, or else I’m going to leave you behind.”

  Jack sighed, but then began writhing and shrieking and twisting, until Margie had no choice, but to drop him.

  “You owe me some ham,” he said, when he landed on the driveway.

  “Put it on my tab,” the Bad Hat said.

  They wagged their tails at Margie and Vern, and then darted into the woods and out of sight.

  “Thank you!” Vern called after them.

  “You’re welcome!” Jack barked back.

  That was all well and good, but the dog was the Bad Hat. He did not require thanks. Freedom was his only reward.

  Was there a song i
n that? Or, at least, an epic poem? Probably.

  “We were so brave,” Jack said.

  “Yeah, it was amazing, the way you gave instructions,” the Bad Hat said.

  Jack puffed his chest out. “No need to thank me. I was happy to help.”

  The Bad Hat was a little tired from his swim, but the water had been refreshing. Maybe he would have to make a point of stopping by the lake every day for a quick dip, and then, a long rest on one of the rocky beaches.

  “Let’s go around the whole lake, and get the lay of the land,” the Bad Hat said, as they trotted down a mostly deserted dirt road.

  Jack shook his head. “My paws are pretty tired. Could we just go back now, and maybe take naps? I’m sort of weary.”

  Naturally. “Hey, you can go back whenever you want,” the Bad Hat said.

  “Not me,” Jack said. “We.”

  The Bad Hat paid no attention to that, ranging away from the lake, and onto paved roads, while Jack did his best to keep up.

  Some of the houses were occupied, while others were closed up for the season. The town seemed to be a combination of farms, rental cabins, fancy houses, vacation homes, and cottages. It was already September, so most of the tourists must have gone home, because things seemed pretty quiet.

  Jack let out a wistful sigh. “I bet everyone’s running in the meadow, while Monica gets our lunch ready.”

  Probably, yeah. And some lunch would be nice. Too bad the Bad Hat was never going to go back there.

  At a house up ahead, he could see a man and a woman fondly saying good-bye to each other. That was unusual, in his world. There hadn’t been too many hugs at any of the homes where he had lived.

  “Check it out,” he said. “Those people like each other.”

  Jack’s eyes lit up. “They look nice. Maybe they would make us some lunch!”

  In the front yard, a toddler was playing around on the grass with a brightly colored plastic beach ball.

  “Oooh, a toy!” Jack said, and scampered over to join the child.

  The Bad Hat wasn’t about to interact with any more people, but he loved to play with balls. Jack pushed the ball towards the girl with his nose—and then, she pushed it back. It looked fun! Really fun!