Dog Eyes | By: Spencer Caro | | Category: Short Story - Friendship Bookmark and Share

Dog Eyes


                        DOG EYES 

                                          By Spencer Caro

                     

                   1

Michael sat on the wooden bench outside his house holding a four-leaved clover. He had lived here for 3 weeks. It had been 2 months since his mom and dad died, and a widow by the name of Jill had adopted him. Michael believed in superstitions and that four-leaved clovers brought good luck. As he sat on the bench that windy day, he started doubting in that kind of power. The day he found it in his yard, his parents had died, and no one would tell him how or why. Michael stuffed the four-leaved clover in his left pocket. He shielded his eyes as the bright sun touched his soft cheek. He ran his hand through his orange hair and slowly touched the freckles under it. He wiped a small tear away from his face. He told himself he was twelve years old and he went inside. Michael had a disliking for Jill because of the screechy voice she had, the eerie white coat she always wore over her head, her evil personality, and the dirty house she lived in. She also made him do her chores; buy her food and buy her Gothic magazines. He was not as much as a son to her as she was a servant. Michael had been working on a plan to flee the house for two weeks, and he was almost finished. That was, until Jill crashed her Honda into the garage, and carried a small beagle in her hands.

  

          "Darn car. Only stupid idiots drive cars," Jill said to herself.    Michael ran out the door and saw the Honda, its bumper smashed into the garage door. He stood there, watching Jill get out of the car and walk towards the front door, carrying a beagle in her hand. The dog started yelping and she put the beagle down. The beagle ran to Michael and sat on his Nike tennis shoes.

          After a few minutes, Michael worked up the courage to ask: "What's with the dog?"

          Jill stopped and said: "You are da slowest little boy ever! Ah got ya a little pup to make the work go fastah."

          Michael couldn't see how a beagle would make his chores faster, but he thought it would be nice to make a friend.

           Another thing about Jill: she was literally crazy in the head. Michael had suspected that she had gone insane by drugs.

          “Is there a leash?” Michael asked.

          “There’s one around his neck, dummy!” Jill said in a mean voice.     Michael picked the leash up and took the dog inside. When Jill finally got inside she asked, “What are ya gonna call the durtee creature?”

          Michael thought for a moment what he should name the dog. He saw a big, black spot on his back. That’s it! Spot! “I’ll name ‘im Spot,” Michael said.

          “Spot, Spot, stupid name but it’ll do. Get to work now! And it’s already 10:31! You had better get a move on yourself!” Jill yelled. “And take the dang leash off of ‘im!”

          “Yes ma’am.” Michael took the leash off and walked into the kitchen to get a mop. “Actually, it’s about 11:00,” Michael whispered under his breath.

          Michael had to mop the bathroom and make her double-queen sized bed with thirty sheets. He ran to the bathroom, with Spot by his side, and began to rock the mop back and forth, as if they were dancing. For the first time while cleaning, Michael found himself smiling. He glanced over at Spot. There was something about that dog that made his life seem happy again.   

          When he was done, he would eat a yogurt cup for lunch. After lunch he ran to the market and bought a gothic magazine which had a name that should be censored for all children.

          He ran back home (although home is not really an accurate way to describe it, a home is supposed to be a place of happiness) and gave it to Jill (it was a wonder how she could read anyway).

           Now he was doing the laundry and will stop around 6:00 PM, where he would get a loaf of bread and some cheese to eat for dinner.

          He even snuck some grapes from Jill’s fruit bowl to give to Spot. After dinner, he washed the dishes (even the ones unused) until 9:00 PM. He then did some other chores until 11:00, and then went to sleep, with Spot curling up by his toes.

                                      2                    

                                 8 days later…

“What are you saying?” Michael asked Jill. “You can’t sell Spot!”

Jill said in reply, “I don’t like dat Spawt! He poop on my floor.  He slow yor work down. He bite me. He bark all nite. Why is my house dirty? Cuz of that pup!”

Michael looked around and saw the house was no different than before Spot came. He never understood the logic Jill used in their arguments.

“I can’t help it! I don’t want to do the work you’re too stupid to do! I want to have fun as a twelve-year old! I want to run in the forest with Spot! Not do a witch’s work!”

“No! Wee ar selling ‘im!” Jill tugged the leash away from Michael and ran out the front door.

Jill knew just the person that would take Spot. She ran to her neighbor’s driveway and pushed him out of the car and drove it away. Michael grabbed his kick scooter and started going after her. He knew he wouldn’t catch up until Jill started crashing, but she never got too far away. Jill had no driver’s license, so she crashed into almost everything in front of her. Spot was bumping around the seats as if the car were a rollercoaster.

Crashing delays helped Michael catch up with Jill. Jill was now driving sideways, going 120 miles an hour, and yelling, “OUT OF THE WAY!”

Jill crashed into a fence and lost most of its windshield. The backdoor was open, almost loose enough to fall off. Michael was getting close to the car, but he had to avoid the swinging back door. Jill was yelling almost every word she knew, and crashed into a half-painted, rusty, metal fence just when the gas ran out.

Three 10-year olds had just watched the chase in awe of a very drunk driver. It’s hard to believe, but Jill wasn’t drunk. She’d never touched a bottle of alcohol in her life. She was going to get her driver’s license at age 17, but she made a horrible crash and it damaged her brain. Now she acted kind of (in a mild way to put it) weird, but she survived.

Jill got out of the car and tugged on Spot to get out. Spot stumbled, but got up instantly. Michael was about 10 yards away from the house Jill stopped at. He kicked his left foot off the road like never before and kicked hard until he reached the house. He threw his scooter on the front lawn, and ran up to the front door. But, he was too late.

                             3

“I’ll give you 12 dollars for this beagle pup,” Susan said to Jill.

Susan was also a widow, and liked to collect as many dogs as she could. She believed that these four-legged creatures were the closest thing to a husband she could have. Her life was almost over. She wants to make the most of it and she hates living alone. She has 2 German Shepherds, a Boston Terrier, and a Chocolate Labrador. A beagle could make a good addition to her friends. Jill took 12 dollars and Susan took Spot.

 Jill ran and stole a parked Porsche outside a mansion to drive (or crash) back home. Michael just stood on the lawn, thinking that the world was just as crazy as Jill was, if she could hotwire a Porsche but not tell if her house was dirty or clean. He had lost another good friend in his life. He picked up his scooter and slowly rode back home.

“Now that ya hav no distraction, mah house can bee cleen again, and ya can get back to doing mah work,” Jill said.

But Michael was angry.

“No! I now have a big distraction of not having a friend when I could have had one!”

“Ah could care less, just do mah work!”

“This is the worst summer I’ve ever had! I can’t spend the last 7 weeks of my summer doing your work!”

“Be quiet, boy! Do mah work! It is already 2:00 PM! Do the laundree!”

Michael walked back to the laundry room. He picked up a laundry basket and fell into the floor. He had forgotten about the secret door he found in the laundry room. He put the basket of laundry down and looked at the five sheets of construction paper scattered among the cold, metal floor. This was his “OUT” plan. He would escape tomorrow at midnight. He would run to a better home. He looked at his plan and thought it would work. But one more thing would have to be added.

 

“Spot,” Susan said. “Spot, come here, boy!”

 Spot came over.

She picked him up and lied down on the couch. Spot lied down too while she slowly stroked his fur.         

“Tomorrow is David’s birthday. Oh, you probably don’t know who David is, do you? He was my husband. He was going to be 76 tomorrow. Oh, David!” She said, as if David were right there in front of her. She started to cry, half of her tears annoyingly falling on Spot’s head.

After about 10 minutes, Spot was finally free to roam about the house when he ran into a German Shepherd. The German Shepherd growled. Spot whimpered. The German Shepherd barked loudly and scratched Spot with his paw. He bit Spot’s tail, picked him up with it and threw him over to a dark corner.

Susan was wondering why Spot was crying all night.     

                                  4

Michael watched his alarm clock in his secret room as it turned from 11:58 to 11:59. It was almost midnight. He jumped out of his bed and grabbed the box of dog treats and the box of bread, cookies, cheese, bananas, grapes and apples. He put 3 20-packs of the Big-sized juice bottles and the dog treat box in the boxes he attached to a strap. He put the strap around his arm and looked at his clock. It turned from 11:59 to 12:00.

Michael ran over to the window and opened it. He jumped out and closed it. He grabbed his scooter and rode past the crashed and stolen Porsche. He dodged the crashed Honda and entered the road. He started kicking up the road. He looked at the map he stole from Jill that he taped on the box of dog treats. He was getting closer. He started to kick off even harder, and he could feel wind brushing harshly against his freckles and his orange hair.

He was surprised that it was midnight and it wasn’t pitch-black outside. It was kind of dark, but not as dark as he anticipated. He could see his way without guidance from the street lamps. He looked at the taped map again. He was three yards away.

He kicked off as hard as he could and stopped in front of the mailbox of the house he was looking for. He could especially tell because, taped on the mailbox was a paper that said, WILL BUY DOGS.  He put his scooter on the front lawn and ran up to a window near the ground. He was about to slide it open when he saw a small sticker that said: ALARM PROTECTED. He moved his hand away from the window and wondered what he should do now. He saw a small door under another window above the ground that was unscrewed. It could be alarm protected, but he didn’t have much of a choice. He slowly and cautiously took the screws out of the door with his hands and gradually opened the door. He bent over and crawled in. The alarm didn’t go off. Michael was relieved. He continued crawling in until he saw a hole in the ceiling. He looked up and climbed through.

He saw Spot in a corner, whimpering quietly. Bingo. He walked over to Spot and slowly shook him. “Spot… Hey…” Spot jumped and barked.

Michael put a finger over his mouth and said, “Shhh!” Spot calmed down once he saw it was Michael. “Listen, Spot. We are going to run away from our owners. We’re going to run and be free. C’mon, boy, let’s go,” Michael whispered to Spot.

Spot ran over to a pile of leashes. He picked up his in his mouth and gave it to Michael. Michael grinned. Spot was smart for a puppy. He attached the leash to Spot’s collar and they went. Michael jumped into the hole in the floor and started crawling back to the outside.     Surprisingly, Spot did the same. Michael jumped out and breathed in a breath of fresh air. Spot jumped out and Michael grabbed his leash. They ran across the street and into the woods. Michael looked at Spot’s back and on his big, black spot, he saw red marks.

“What are those?” he asked himself.

They sat down on a nice grassy area, although in the moonlight you couldn’t really tell that it was nice or grassy.  

“So Spot, we get to do whatever we want now. What do you want to do first?”

Spot put his paw on the dog treat box.

“You’re right, Spot. We should probably eat a snack before we continue.” Michael opened the box and gave two dog treats to Spot and some grapes. Michael ate some bread and cheese with a cookie.

Michael wiped his mouth with his arm and said, “Okay, Spot. I rode my scooter through here once, when I crashed into a vacant cabin. We could live there.”

Spot gave him a look that notified his agreeing.

“This is a nice place for now, but sooner or later our owners are going to discover us, so we had better run to stay away from them.” Spot moved his head and Michael picked up his leash. Wait a minute—did Spot just nod? This puppy seemed surprisingly smart…

They started running out of the woods and they stopped at Crystal Lake, the big lake filled with lots of fish. Michael saw a cabin next to the lake. Spot saw a flash of lightning.

He pulled on Spot’s leash gently and said, “C’mon boy. We’re going inside.” Spot stood up and followed Michael as he went over to the cabin. Michael knocked to make sure no one had moved in so they could live there, although he highly doubted someone was in there.

 A stout man with a bushy beard and a red, dirty, checkered shirt answered. “Why, hello, there! How er ya this mighty fine night?”

So much for a vacant cabin.

“Um, it’s raining,” Michael said.

“Well, that don’t mattah. C’mon on in and ah will give you two some hot choco’ how that sound? Good?”

 “Sure,” said Michael, letting go of Spot’s leash.

“So, uh, who is da dog?”

“Oh, him? He’s Spot, my beagle.”

“Oh, Ah see. Nothin’ like pup love, huh?”

“Um, yeah. Sure, okay. What’s your name?” This guy seemed a bit crazy, like Jill, but nicer.

“Mah name? Why, that would be Jerry! Jerry da fisherman! Now, what’s yer name?”

“Nice to meet you, Jerry. I’m Michael.”

“Well, hello, Michael. ‘Ere’s yer hot choco’.”

“Thanks, Jerry. Uh, you wouldn’t mind cooking something else for my dog?”

“Oh, yah. Ah fergot about choco’ and dogs. He can have some warm milk instead, how is that?” Spot wasn’t paying attention, so Jerry put down a bowl of warm milk. Spot and Michael started drinking. Michael put his mug down and Spot lied down.

“So, er, Michael, ain’t it? Wut breengz ya heer on this bea-uti-full nite?” Jerry asked.

“Oh. Well, I’m a runaway orphan with my dog, Spot,” Michael said as he looked out the window and decided not to correct Jerry on the weather again.

“Why on Erth wood ya run away like dat?”

“I did it because Jill, the woman who adopted me, is a terrible person. It’s like I’m her slave! She always steals and crashes cars, reads Gothic magazines I’m stuck buying for her, and she acts all weird. One day, she bought me this little puppy, Spot. Then, she sold him. So, at midnight I broke into the house Spot was sold to, and we ran here. We are going to run to a better home.”

Jerry looked at the floor.

“Empty yo’ pockits,” he said.

“Why?”

“JUST DO IT!” Jerry yelled.

Michael pulled the four-leaved clover out of his left pocket.

“That all?” He asked.

“Yep. That’s it.”

Jerry snatched the clover straight off of the table.

“Kid, ya betta cum with mee!”

“Whoa, what’s going on? Give me my clover back!”

“Not ryt now, ‘kay?” Jerry said.

“After you.”

“What? We’re leaving?” Michael asked.

“Yes. Grab yer pup and let us go!”

Not having any idea what was going on, he said: “C’mon, Spot. Let’s go.” He gently tugged Spot’s leash and Spot got up. Jerry opened the door.

 Should I go with this guy? Michael wondered.

“What about the rain?” Michael asked.

“Doo not bee cowerd! It is fine!”

Spot started shaking. He hated rain.

“It’s alright, it is okay, Spot. There isn’t anything to worry about.” Spot slowly got up and cautiously walked toward the door. Then, a loud thunder clap made a big, BOOM! that sent Spot under the table.

“Ah gess wee hav to wayt till da rayn stops,” Jerry said. “Yoo know, for da pup.”  

“Then, can I have my clover back?” Michael asked.

“Sure. Just DO NOTT LOOS IT!!” Jerry slapped the clover on the table and Michael stuffed it in his pocket.

“Thanks.”

“Yah.”

“So, why do you want my four-leaved clover so bad?” Michael asked.

“It’s not exactly me who wants it,” Jerry the fisherman said as a loud thunder rumbled in the distance.

                             5

“Then, who does?” Michael asked.

“Ah don’t know if Ah shood tell ya dis or not,” Jerry said.       Lightning flashed.

“Go ahead, tell me.”

“Well, there is dis old old man and he is sorta a wizard. He really wants wun of dose clovers! He is creatin’ a big fancy spell; he needs a clover to do it!”

“Why would he want a clover?” Michael asked.

“How shood me know? Me am not wizard! Only fisherman!” Jerry yelled.

“Oh, sorry,” Michael said. Spot curled up by his toes and Michael gently stroked his big spot, frowning when he saw the marks again. “There is no such thing as wizardry,” He pointed out.

Jerry sighed. “No there ain’t. This stupid old old man wants to proove mee wrong!”

“How is he going to do that?” Michael asked.

“Really, ya need too start askin’ the old old man dees questions!” “Sorry.”

They talked about this old, old man Jerry spoke of for twenty minutes. Then Spot got up and pushed the cabin door slightly open. The heavy rain had gone down to mild drizzle.

“Can wee go now, pup?” Jerry asked. Spot walked outside, signaling his approval. Michael grabbed his leash and they went out the door.

Jerry walked towards the lake. He took out a folded piece of parchment and looked at it. He looked to the right and Michael followed him with Spot running by his side.

Jerry looked back at the lake and jumped into a wooden boat in the lake. “Come on! You gonna cum?”

“Uh, I guess. C’mon, Spot.” Michael tugged on Spot and the climbed into the boat.

“Where are we going?” Michael asked Jerry.

“Yoo wil see!” Jerry said. He picked up the oars and started to row the boat gently across the lake.

“Where we is goin’ we don’t need luk to survive!” Jerry said as he rowed gently.

“Then where are we going?”

“Okay, okay. Wee are goin’ to a great man dat will bring yoo happiness!” Jerry said.

“When will we get to him?” Michael asked.

“Probably around six at morning,” Jerry said with a bit of excitement in his voice. “Although wee will need too go not only by boat but by walkeeng too. Boat get us to right path.”

They were on the boat, traveling across the lake for about an hour when they heard Spot whimper.

“Quiet,” Michael commanded. Spot started whimpering louder. “Shush, Spot, shush,” Michael said.

But Spot started whimpering even more. “Shut itt, pup!” Jerry yelled. Spot started squealing.
          “What’s the matter, boy?” Michael asked. Spot threw his left front paw on the boat’s bottom. “Oh, no!”  

“What is rong?” Jerry asked.

“Look at the bottom,” Michael said.

Jerry looked down and muttered a word that will not be revealed in this story.  

“The boat is leaking!” Michael yelled. Spot started whimpering louder.

Water poured into the boat. “Kwiklee! Hold dat pup and jump out of da boat!”

“Okay, okay, okay, Spot! Don’t be scared but we’re going to need to abandon ship.”

Spot threw a look of despair at Michael. But, Michael cautiously grabbed Spot off of the boat. Spot would not cooperate. “Come on, boy. You can come with me or you can drown with this boat.”

“Hurree, pup!” Jerry yelled. He was getting out of the boat. “It ain’t dat deep!” Jerry said.

“Probably 20 feet deep,” Michael guessed.

Jerry nodded.

 Spot didn’t know what to do. He slowly crawled in Michael’s arms.

“Atta boy, Spot,” Michael praised.

Spot got comfortable and Michael started swimming towards to what seemed like land, but they had traveled too far to really tell. The water was too deep for him to get back to the cabin and remain holding onto Spot.

So, he carefully swam towards the left of the lake, hoping Jerry was doing well. He was swimming a little faster by the second, and Spot was getting worried a little faster by the second.

Michael was around 5 feet away from land, when he slipped on a rock under the water. He dropped Spot and fell underwater. He tried to feel around for Spot, but he wasn’t there. Then, he did something he swore he’d never do since last summer at the pool. He opened his eyes.

The last time he had opened his eyes; they had gotten an infection and were hurting for days. Doing this again could damage his eyes, they were very sensitive. But, Spot was as at stake, so he opened them anyway.

The murky water stung his eyes badly. He was looking for a white blur. He couldn’t see anything. He had lost Spot. He looked around farther, his eyes stinging like mad. He could see nothing but dirty water, fish blurs, and rocks scattering the bottom.

He jumped to the surface and started gasping for air. He kept rubbing his eyes and coughing. He saw the forest again, and swam all the way to it.

Michael had lost Spot. He didn’t know what to do at this point. Spot was drowning, and Michael would probably never run with him again. He didn’t blame Spot for not wanting to go on the boat. Michael knew that even though Spot seemed comfortable, he wasn’t. And what were those marks? Had Susan abused him?

Michael opened his eyes. He couldn’t see Jerry anywhere.

Great, Michael thought. I have lost my two friends. I don’t know what to do now but go back home to Jill, and live my horrible life all over again. At least I get food and shelter there. Michael got up and small tears rustled down his freckle-stained cheeks. He looked around for Spot or Jerry again, but he didn’t see anything. He wiped away some more tears and started walking back to Jill’s house. He kept thinking about how he and Spot had bonded (if you would call it that) while they knew each other.

Now, Spot was dead. Jerry was dead. His parents were dead. His heart was dead. He couldn’t take anymore of this sadness.

 

“Where are you going?” Michael heard a voice ask.

He spun around. Michael saw Jerry soaking wet, carrying Spot in his hands. Jerry gently laid Spot’s body on the ground.

“Oh, I thought you two were gone forever, so I was going back to Jill.”

“Dat witch? Nah! Stay wif us!”

“Is Spot… dead?”

Jerry gave a woeful sigh. “He ain’t ded. Well, at least I don’t theenk so.”

Michael felt Spot’s heart. Spot was alive. Michael released a sigh of relief.

“Ah rescued ‘im when ah found ‘im on da bottom of da lake!”          Spot got up and started coughing. Michael hugged him and said,        “I’m sorry, boy. I’m so sorry I let you go with us to the lake.”

Spot continued coughing and Michael let go. Spot stopped coughing about 23 seconds after.

Jerry said, “I guess we’ll walk to it.”

 Michael tugged on Spot’s leash.

“Walk to… the man?” Michael asked.

“Yup. He ain’t dat far from here!”

“That’s nice.” Michael rubbed his eyes again.

Michael, Jerry and Spot started walking along the shore of the lake. They walked for a long time. Michael thought about questioning Jerry’s ‘not that far from here’ comment, but Jerry had said other confusing things so he kept his mouth shut.

Spot was getting energy back, and the sky started getting lighter. It was probably around six a.m. by now They stopped when they saw a woman with a white jacket hanging over her face, with German Shepherds. Spot started barking.

“Uh, oh,” Michael said. He recognized this woman. She was Jill.

“Where hav yoo bin?” Jill asked with evil in her voice. The two German Shepherds beside her legs growled. “Ah hav bin callin’ da police for ova an hour now! They are all lookin’ for yoo! Ah asked Susan if ah could borrow her too dogs to sniff yoo out!”

“Thanks,” Michael grumbled.

Spot barked louder.

“Shut up, pup!” Jill yelled. “Dat dumb mut ain’t nothin’ but trouble, dat’s what he is!” She said.

“Dat Jill?” Jerry whispered to Michael.

“Yep,” Michael whispered back. One of Susan’s beagles barked at Spot.

“Cum on, Michael. Play time iz over. Now, go home, kay?”

“No!” Michael said.

“No?” Jill asked.

“No,” Michael confirmed. “I am not going back to your little house so I can be your miserable, orphan slave!”

“And wha not?” Jill questioned. That sent Michael over the edge.     “BECAUSE! I DON’T KNOW IF YOU’VE NOTICED, BUT YOU’RE NOTHING BUT AN EVIL WITCH USING A SAD, TWELVE-YEAR OLD ORPHAN AS A GOOD-FOR-NOTHING SLAVE! AND THEN YOU SEPERATED ME FROM SPOT! WHY ON EARTH WOULD I GO HOME?” Michael shouted.  

“Cuz! I neeed ya at home for mah chorz!”

“WELL, FORGET IT! COME ON GUYS!” Michael tried to tug on Spot, but he was not there.

“GET OFFF OF MEEE YOU STOOPID MUT!” Jill yelled. Michael turned around. Spot was biting Jill’s leg. The German Shepherds started growling and biting Spot’s tail.

“Stupid dogs get away!” Michael yelled at Susan’s dogs. He pushed them away from Spot.

They whimpered and ran away. “NO! CUM BAK DUM SUSAN DOGS! AH NEEED YA!” Jill yelled. She screamed in frustration and kicked Spot off of her leg. He whimpered and ran against Michael’s legs. Michael picked up Spot’s leash and tugged. Spot and Michael started running. Jill didn’t know, and started brushing blood off of her leg.

Jerry yelled, “THIS IS WHERE WE PART! RUN TO A HUGE CABIN WITH A YELLOW ‘W’ ON IT!”

“GOT IT!” Michael yelled. “WILL I EVER SEE YOU AGAIN, JERRY?” Michael asked.

“AH, HOPE SO KID! SEE YA!”

“BYE!” Michael’s voice faded in the distance.

Jill got up and said, “Aw, dang! Wut is da use, aneeway? Hee will just run away again!” Jill said.

“Yah, don’t start loookin’ for him, ‘kay? Hee will just keep runnin’!” Jerry said.

“Yah, I’ll go adopt another dum orphan,” Jill replied.

Jerry laughed and started trudging his chubby body back to his cabin. “If they don’t arrest you for child mistreatment, first.”

 

“Okay, Spot!” Michael said. “We are looking for a big cabin with a yellow ‘w’ on it. Keep your eyes peeled for it.”

Spot started looking in all directions. They kept running and running, looking for the special cabin.

Then Spot suddenly ran in a different direction than Michael.

“Spot?” Michael cried in concern. “Spot, where are you going?”

Michael heard a loud dog bark, and dogs whimpering. Spot came back looking very pleased with himself.

When Susan’s two German Shepherds came home, she was wondering why they were crying all night. Was there a virus going around?

                  6

Michael and Spot didn’t find the cabin until the sun started to shine a little bit through the clouds. It had a big, yellow ‘w’ on it. They caught their breath and slowly opened the door.

A small old man was standing, pouring scarlet liquid into a beaker.

“Hello!” The little man said. “What are you here for on this lovely morning?”

A digital clock hung in the corner. The time is 6:00 AM. Just like Jerry had said.

“Do you believe in wizardry?” Michael asked the little old man. Spot lied down on a neat little rug by a small coffee table.

“Why, of course I do, young man! I’ve been trying to prove this fisherman wrong that wizardry does exist! By the way, have you by any chance stumbled across a four-leaved clover? That’s the last ingredient I need for this spell.”

“Oh yeah, sure. Let me get it out,” Michael answered.

“You mean you have one?” the little man excitedly replied.

Michael got the clover out of his pocket and gave it to the little man. The little man put the clover into the beaker filled with scarlet liquid.

“Once I put this liquid in the enchanting bowl, it will dissolve and become a spell!”

The little man poured the liquid from the beaker into a small bowl and the coffee table. The bowl began to shine, and the liquid began to dissolve.

“O, o, o, o! Let this liquid create a spell! A spell of the dead! A spell to bring the dead, alive and to this bed!” the little man pointed to a small bed next to a table. The bowl became empty.

“Wait, you can bring people back from the dead?” Michael asked.

“Well, now I can,” the little man answered.

“Can you bring my parents back to life?” Michael asked.

“Sure. What are their names?”

“Tony and Maria Smith,” Michael Smith answered.

The little man closed his eyes. “O, o, o, o! Bring Tony and Maria Smith from the dead! Bring them from the dead, alive on this bed!” Scarlet light filled the whole cabin. Michael shielded his eyes. The light faded. He looked at the bed. He saw both of his parents there, lying on the bed. His parents got up.

“Michael!” His mom exclaimed.

“Hey, son, you’re all right!” His dad yelled with excitement. They hugged each other.

“I guess wizardry is real,” Michael muttered. Spot got up and rubbed his head against Maria’s left leg. Everyone let go of the hug.

“Who is the sweet little dog?” Maria asked, patting Spot on his spot.

“He’s Spot, the beagle I adopted. I ran away from the witch of a woman who adopted me with this nice dog, and met Jerry the fisherman. He is not here, but he helped me and Spot get here! And that little wizard brought you back from the dead!” Michael said.

“Michael, I didn’t understand any of that. You can tell me later. Right now, I’m so glad we’re here as a family again,” Tony said.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed. Spot gave Michael a very happy look.

“You know what?” Michael said to his mom.

“What?” Maria answered.

“I wonder how Spot feels in those dog eyes of his.”

The truth is, Spot was smiling on the inside.

              The End        

              

 

 

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