Page 50 of Slots & Sticks
“What a fun game!” I call. “You win. You can come back now.”
Skinbad does not come back. He disappears behind the pile of rocks. I swear to myself and take off after him.
I skirt the right of the rocks and make my way down to the stretch of flatter ground beyond. Skinbad barks and hops around a low shrub, nipping at the leaves and growling.
“Come here, troublemaker.” I make a grab for him. He feints to one side. My fingers slide along his bare skin, but he’s too quick. Now I see why Coach went for old dogs in the past.
Whatever’s in the bush is holding his attention. He noses forward, then darts back, yapping like he’s having the time of his life. I make another grab for him and end up on all fours in the dirt.
“How are you so fast?” I demand.
Skinbad wags his tail. He noses at the bush again. Something inside makes an odd noise—he’s probably got a critter of some type cornered in there. I make one final lunge and tackle Skinbad. From the sounds he makes when I scoop him up, you’d think I was murdering him. His long nails dig into my shoulder, and he almost succeeds in his fresh escape attempt. I twist around to get a better grip on him with both hands. I end up flat on my back with Skinbad clutched to my chest, wailing like a banshee.
Success. The escape artist is safe, and I’m not going to end up on Dot’s shit list. The day is saved.
“Camden!” Dot crests the hill with Bo trotting beside her. She lets out a little cry of relief when she sees Skinbad in my arms. “Oh, you got him! I thought bringing Bo would help lure him back.”
As soon as they’re close enough, Bo sniffs Skinbad, who immediately goes limp in my arms. He licks her nose. She licks back, though given the tongue-to-face ratio of the two of them, I’m pretty sure she licked his eyeballs, too. Satisfied that her small friend is in one piece, she loses interest in me and turns her attention to the shrub.
Dot crouches down. She’s holding the second, smaller leash that the shelter gave us, so that she can clip it to Skinbad’s collar. “There,” she says. “No more escaping, young man!”
I release Skinbad. He pops up to climb off of me and get back to his original business: annoying the living shit out of whatever’s hiding in the shrub.
“Oh, jeez.” Dot covers her mouth with both hands. “He really did a number on you.”
“He’s got moves. Slipped right past my defenses.” I grin and hoist myself upright. I’m covered in mud, front and back. Dot tries to help dust me off, which isn’t effective butdoesresult in her running her hands over my torso. It’s a decent reward for the effort I’ve put in.
She catches me watching her and smiles shyly. With both palms braced against my chest, she stands on her tiptoes.
I bend down for a quick kiss, though I want more. Maybe not when I’m muddy and she’s wrangling two dogs, though. Even the softest press of her lips against mine quiets my runaway thoughts.
Her eyes flick up, then down. It’s not embarrassment, not really. Just the quiet awareness that we’re different now. That we keep doing this—touching, then pretending we didn’t.
Dot pulls away quickly with cheeks flushed scarlet. “Come on, everyone, back to the car.”
The dogs won’t budge. Bo sticks her long nose through the branches of the shrub. I catch a flash of black that bops her nose. Now that things are less frantic, I can hear the tiny hiss that accompanies the motion.
“What is that?” Dot asks.
“I thought it was a rodent, but…” I squat down to peer into the foliage. “They don’t hiss, as far as I know.”
“Do you mind taking a look?” Dot asks. “It sounds like a cat.”
In the immortal words of Admiral Akbar, I have a bad feeling about this, but I’m already covered in mud. I lie down and squirm under the branches of the shrub until I can see the miniature, mostly black kitten that’s spitting at Bo.
“Aw, come here, buddy.” I do the worm until I’m close enough to reach it.
Unlike Skinbad, the kitten doesn’t put up a fight once I’ve got her in hand. She cries as I maneuver her free.
“Aww!” Dot’s eyes go huge at the sight of the muddy fluffball cradled in my hands. “Poor baby!”
“She’s so skinny.” I pet the kitten’s back with one finger. “Where’s your mama? Huh? How come you’re on your own?”
The kitten weighs almost nothing. I can feel her little heartbeat against my palm. She latches one mouth onto the tip of my finger and sucks furiously.
Her ribs flutter under my fingers. The sound she makes is smaller than a breath, and it hits somewhere I didn’t know was unguarded.
“She’s hungry.” Dot’s bottom lip trembles. “And she’s lost her mom. Cam…”
