Read Bailey's Story for Free Online Page A

didn’t want to touch the matches, but he’d watch. He didn’t laugh as much as Todd did, though.
    One day, Todd announced that he had a firecracker this time. I had never seen anything like the brightly colored stick he was holding, and I didn’t like its smell—it was like the matches, only worse. It smoldered for a bit on the ground, and then there was a flash and a bang so loud that I leaped across the creek. Quickly, I ran back to the boy, barking.
    Ethan patted my head. “It’s okay, Bailey. Easy, boy. It’s just noise. Don’t worry.”
    I sniffed cautiously around on the ground where the stick had been. There were some scraps of paper and cardboard there now, and a piece of one of Linda’s dolls. All of these things had a charred, smokey smell that I didn’t like. Somehow it said “danger” to me.
    â€œCome on, Ethan. Get it!” Todd said impatiently while I sniffed.
    Ethan hesitated. I lifted my nose from the ground.
    â€œCome on, ” Todd insisted, and Ethan turned toward his house. Of course, I followed.
    Ethan went to his room and took something off a high shelf. I got a faint whiff of that same smell that came off the table when Dad and Ethan sat there together after dinner.
    â€œNo, not the rocket,” Ethan decided and put back the toy he was holding. He grabbed another one and ran outside to where Todd was waiting.
    â€œCool airplane!” Todd said.
    There was excitement coming off of Ethan, but it was a strange kind of excitement. I could smell something like fear in it, and I danced around nervously, barking a little, as Ethan and Todd fussed over the toy in Ethan’s hands. I could smell the sharp flare of a match being lighted, and then Ethan threw his toy up into the air.
    Bang!
    Another noise! I shook my ears, which hurt from the loudness. Both boys were standing still, looking up into the sky, where smelly, charred bits of plastic were drifting down to the creek.
    â€œCool!” Todd yelled. Ethan said nothing. The excitement and the fear were both draining out of him, leaving something heavy and sad behind.
    â€œCome on, Ethan, get another one!” Todd shouted. But Ethan shook his head. Todd lit more firecrackers and tossed them into the air, and I ran in circles as the noises went off.
    Ethan picked up a bit of plastic from a rock near the creek bed, one a little smaller than his hand.
    Behind Ethan’s back, Todd looked at me and grinned. He tossed a firecracker in my direction.
    Bang! The thing burst so close I felt the wind from the explosion whoosh against my fur. I yelped and ran to Ethan, who dropped the chunk of plastic to hug me.
    â€œCome on, Bailey,” he said. “Let’s go home.”
    The next day Ethan and I went to Chelsea’s house after school. Marshmallow and I wrestled and ran in their backyard. I liked Marshmallow. She was always ready for a good game of Tug on a Stick or This Ball Is Mine.
    Sometimes I even got to go and see Marshmallow on my own. Whenever Ethan went away on the yellow bus, leaving me alone in the backyard, I would check the gate. It didn’t have a doorknob, like the gate to the first yard I’d lived in, so there was nothing I could bite or tug with my teeth. But sometimes, if I gave this gate a good hard shove with my paw or my nose, it would swing open. Then I’d take a stroll around the neighborhood.
    I’d visit Marshmallow, touching noses with her through the wire fence around her backyard, and I’d mark all of her trees carefully. After that I’d go wherever my nose took me, until I remembered that the boy might be waiting. That meant it was time to trot home.
    One day I wandered farther than usual, so that when I turned back it was just starting to get dark. I began to worry that I might have missed the time when Ethan was supposed to get off the bus. What would he do without me there to greet him?
    I cut through the creek, which took me