Read Hitchhikers for Free Online Page B

watching us now which I try to ignore.
    “Fine,” I say, and put the collar and leash
down on the ground beside me, out of her sight.
    It’s a few long minutes before she’ll come
back to my side. I try tempting her with treats but she doesn’t
take the bait. Finally she inches back and sits near me, nibbling
at her milkbone.
    When she seems calm enough, I drop my hand
down. She doesn’t notice. Then I’m grabbing the collar and wrapping
my arm around her neck and trying to wrangle it on her.
    Lila thrashes like crazy, her paws scrabbling
at the air and her throat growling. Her teeth are bared but she’s
not biting at me. “Come… on…” I pant. I can’t get both hands free
to buckle the collar. Finally I let her go and she runs across the
parking lot before stopping to look at me with her ears pinned back
and her tail low.
    Frustrated, I snatch up the collar and leash
and shove them into the pocket of my sweatshirt, even though
they’re too bulky. “What am I supposed to do if the animal control
people come by?” I yell at her. “They’re gonna think you’re a
stray. You wanna go to the pound?”
    Of course she doesn’t answer, just looks at
me with her sad eyes.
    “If you don’t want to be my dog, you can get
your own damn treats.”
    I sit back down, disgusted with her and
disgusted with myself. It’s not like I’m gonna chain her up out in
a hot yard with no water. I’d treat her nice. The leash and stuff
is just for show. How do you explain that to a dog? At the same
time, I feel dumb for wrestling with an animal in a parking lot. I
should’ve left her alone. I know if I was a dog I wouldn’t want
some random kid slapping a collar on me.
    I don’t want some cop demanding to know Is
this your dog? Prove it and taking her away when I can’t. Looks
like I don’t need a cop to take Lila away. I chased her away all on
my own.
    The time drags on while I get more and more
miserable, Lila panting in the shade of a bush on the other side of
the parking lot. I’ve nothing to do but be miserable. Wish I had a
book or something.
    Finally the hot dog man starts closing up
shop. He didn’t sell a single hot dog after me. “Do you need any
help?” I call to him.
    “Eh, I’ve got it down to a science,” he
says.
    I get up and help him anyway. Securing the
tubs of condiments and fastening the flaps on the sides. The cart
is attached to his truck by a trailer hitch.
    “That about does it.” He shuffles to the
driver’s side door. “Hop on in.”
    With a look back at Lila, I open the
passenger door.
    “You gonna bring along that dog of
yours?”
    “I – I don’t know.”
    “She can hop on in back,” he says.
    I look at Lila. Part of me doesn’t want to
try calling her over, in case she decides not to come. That would
just about kill me.
    I whistle softly.
    Her ears perk up and she steps forward.
    With a slap of my leg I whisper, “Come on,
girl.”
    She comes.
     
     

 
-15-
    Lila’s panting in my ear. The old man, who
tells me his name is Robert but I can call him Bobby, won’t let her
sit in the front with me. Even though she’s got the little backseat
to herself, she’s got her paws up on the back of my seat and is
pressing her head between my head and the open window.
    The buildings fall away and we are back out
in open country again. Not for long, and not as wide open as
before. Bobby drives down a bunch of random little roads, passing
houses that get smaller and shittier as we go. Dust flying
everywhere, lawns that are more scorched dirt than grass.
    Bobby pulls into a dirt area that I guess is
a driveway. His house is actually a trailer baking in the sun. It’s
kind of a cross between a house and a trailer. It’s got an awning
pulled out with a screen draped down from it, and inside the screen
area sits a lawn chair next to a little table, making it look like
a porch. There’s some plants in there too.
    The truck bounces to a stop and I wait until
Bobby gets out before