Gaby, Lost and Found Read online

  It made her not want to return to St. Ann’s, but she had no choice. There wasn’t any money to buy Gaby a ticket to Honduras. Plus, Gaby had been born in the United States. She didn’t know Honduras. Still, the risks of moving to a new country had seemed easy at the time, compared to the stares and whispers she faced at school.

  The City Harvest Center would be the same thing all over again. Even with Alma blocking the blows, once gossipy eighth graders like Dolores and Jan got started, the teasing would be unbearable. She could see it now: Dolores would stop her in the hallway and snidely ask, “Did you pick up your box from the center this month?” Maybe Dolores and Jan would leave canned food at her locker just as they had left pictures of Martian aliens taped on her locker months before. Gaby shuddered.

  “Let’s take a vote,” Mrs. Kohler said.

  Gaby tapped Alma’s arm. “I’m voting for the sweet little dogs and cats.”

  “Said the girl with the sweet little scratches.” Alma smirked.

  “It’s not that bad.” Gaby rubbed her arms. “Besides, I’d happily save that cat again.”

  “Not me.” Alma shook her head. “There are enough claws out with Dolores around. I don’t need more!”

  Gaby lowered her head. “I can’t go to the Harvest Center. I just can’t.”

  Alma gave her a knowing, sympathetic smile. “Don’t worry. I got this.” She stood up. “Mrs. Kohler and dear classmates, I would like to say that we should go to the Furry Friends Animal Shelter because even though I may not be a fan of stinky dog poop” — the classroom filled with giggles — “or itchy cat hair, I happen to know there are many animal lovers in this class.”

  “Thank you, Alma,” Mrs. Kohler said. Alma remained standing. “Is there something else?”

  “Well,” she offered, “the animal shelter would be something different for us.”

  “Very good, Alma, but you do realize no one is contesting the animal shelter?”

  “Oh … well, then I guess it makes no sense to mention that the eighth graders have to clean up a park for their community project. And the seventh graders are collecting pop cans. We have a chance to play with puppies. Puppies. Think about it, chicas. Let’s stick it to the seventh and eighth graders and —”

  “Alma Gomez!” Mrs. Kohler interrupted. “I think you’ve made your point.”

  So when the class voted, Gaby and Alma — along with the entire classroom — raised their hands in support of Furry Friends Animal Shelter. Gaby smiled at her best friend, relieved. “Marcos was right, Alma. He predicted we’d go to the shelter.”

  “Yeah, itchy-scratchy-cat-hair-all-over-our-clothes, here we come.” Alma brushed invisible cat hair off her purple scarf.

  Furry Friends Animal Shelter was located in a part of Kansas City that neither Gaby nor Alma knew.

  “Fancy schmancy.” Gaby nudged Alma. “That’s the fifth slug bug I’ve seen.”

  “I’ve counted two yoga studios and four coffee shops,” Alma said.

  When the school bus pulled up to the shelter, all the girls hopped out and pressed down their school shirts. A tall, lanky man dressed in blue jeans and a black Star Wars T-shirt emerged from the building.

  “Welcome!” he yelped, striding down the sidewalk toward them. As he approached, his hands flew up over his head like he was on a roller coaster. “Welcome to Furry Friends!”

  Gaby couldn’t take her eyes off him. “If he had a tail, it’d be wagging,” she whispered to Alma.

  He had a long ponytail of black hair, thick dark eyebrows that hovered over brown eyes, and a goatee. Both his arms were covered with colorful tattoos, and a silver stud sparkled from one earlobe. Gaby liked him at once.

  “I’m not sure whether I should shake his hand or put a leash on him,” Alma said.

  “Hi, Dr. Villalobos, I am Mrs. Kohler. And these students are the brightest in our school.” Mrs. Kohler’s tiny hands gestured toward the girls. The tall man, who looked younger and cooler than any doctor Gaby had ever met, scratched his chin and took a long look at them.

  “That is phenomenal! Good afternoon, sixth graders. I’m Dr. V. Are you young ladies ready to meet some furry friends?”

  The girls answered yes, but apparently not loudly enough for him. He howled, “Ready to meet some furry friends?”

  Mrs. Kohler nodded at the girls and they screamed “YES!” at the top of their lungs.

  “Right on! Let’s go!” He punched the air with his fist and led them to the lobby. He stopped at the front desk, where an older woman with red hair and black-rimmed glasses sat shuffling through papers. “Daisy, these are our volunteers from St. Ann’s. Everyone, this is the lovely Daisy, shelter director!”

  Gaby liked how Daisy wore her long hair at the nape of her neck like an orange roll without the frosting. Daisy gave them a thumbs-up. “Glad to have you ladies here.”

  The students followed Dr. V. into a large room where dozens of dogs of every size and breed jumped, barked, and yelped in their cages. He placed his hands like a bullhorn around his mouth and yelled over the ruckus, “Aren’t they fantastic?”

  Alma covered her ears with her hands. Gaby chuckled.

  “Beware the next room. It’s full of fluffy kittens and cool cats that will steal your heart with one meow.”

  Walking from the dog room to the cat room was like the rainbow after a thunderstorm. The room was painted turquoise blue. Hot pink scratching posts, yellow pillows, and balls of yarn of every color were lined up on high shelves. An assortment of stuffed toy rats and mice lay defeated on the tiled floor, looking like they’d seen better days. A couple of cats lounging near a large window looked back at the girls and yawned. Kittens stuck their paws out of their cages and mewed as the girls moved from one cage to another squealing, “Look at this kitty!” and, “Aw, this one is so cute!”

  Dr. Villalobos opened a cage. “Go ahead. Hold them. Human contact is important to help shelter pets become sociable and more adoptable.”

  Gaby didn’t hesitate. She took a small yellow kitten named Lemon from its cage. She ran her hand over its soft back. “Poor thing, I bet it hates being caged up.” Just then the kitten clasped its small paws around Gaby’s pigtail as if it’d caught a snake. Gaby winced as it pulled and chewed her hair.

  “Ew! Ouch! It won’t let go!” Gaby cried out. Alma worked fast to detach the cat’s claws and tiny teeth from Gaby’s thick brown hair. When she got the two separated, she returned Lemon to its cage.

  “What was that you were saying about the ‘poor thing’?” Alma grinned.

  “Not funny.” Gaby smoothed down her hair and pouted.

  Dr. Villalobos motioned for the girls to follow him into the veterinarian clinic. Once inside the clinic, he pulled a skinny cat out of a cage. The cat was like no cat Gaby had ever seen. She was gray, tan, and white with black stripes that streamed from her forehead and down her back. Above the cat’s bright green eyes was a dark M. It was the sign of a true tabby. Gaby was sure that the M stood for marvelous, magical, magnificent …

  The cat cried out.

  “Shush, it’s all right.” Dr. Villalobos swayed with the cat like a father soothing a fussy baby. “This is Feather. Who wants to hold her?”

  Gaby’s hand flew up. Alma gave her an incredulous look. Gaby wasn’t having much luck with cats lately. The stray from yesterday had left her with red welts and a bad dream, and Lemon had just tried to eat her hair. Still … she couldn’t resist.

  Dr. Villalobos passed Feather to Gaby. She was stunned by how light the cat was. She glided her hand over its fur. The cat’s ribs poked out like the handlebars on Marcos’s bike.

  “Why is she so skinny?” Gaby asked.

  “Feather was abandoned at a rest stop. I named her Feather because when she came in, she was as light as a feather. If you can believe it, she’s actually gained weight.”

  “Someone just abandoned her?” Gaby said. The cat purred deep and low against her chest.

  Dr. Villalobos nodded. “The h
ighway patrol said she was sitting at a picnic table as if she was waiting for someone. She’s also declawed, which means she was definitely someone’s pet.” He took Feather from Gaby and showed the girls Feather’s clawless front paws. The cat let out a soft meow and reached back toward Gaby. Gaby’s heart jumped. All the girls sighed.

  “Wow! She likes you.” Dr. Villalobos said. He put Feather back into her cage. “You two can visit later. Right now, it’s time to play outside with the wolves!”

  While her classmates swarmed past her to head outside, Gaby stopped at the doorway and looked back at Feather. The small cat locked eyes with her and meowed.

  “I’ll be back,” Gaby answered.

  The shelter’s backyard was lined with large pine trees, and along one side of the yard there were a number of large pens that held two dogs each. The dogs jumped wildly. Their barking became louder when Daisy brought out a few dogs from inside the shelter. Dr. Villalobos explained the playtime rules and instructed the girls to dispose of dog droppings in a specific trash can.

  “I knew it! This is going to get bad,” Alma said. She wrinkled her nose. “Dr. Villalobos?” she shouted. “What if the poop is slimy and we can’t pick it up?” A white-toothed grin took over Dr. V’s entire face. He even chuckled. Alma pressed on. “You know what I mean, right?”

  “Yeah, that slimy poop can be quite a sticky situation. In that case, you should grab the big shovel over there and scoop it up. And please let us know because that’s a sign that the dog is sick or has dietary issues, and we need to fix that.”

  Gaby elbowed Alma. “I know what we can do — quick, let’s make friends with a small dog because their stuff will be … you know, smaller.” The girls spotted a small black-and-white terrier. The dog was chewing on a stuffed purple bear.

  “He seems harmless, huh?” Alma said. The terrier looked up at her with wet brown eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” she snapped. “You’re cute, but you’re not that cute.” She sat down on the grass, grabbed the stuffed toy, and began a game of tug-of-war with the dog. The feisty terrier jerked the stuffed toy and Alma from left to right. The dog growled and Alma grunted.

  “I think you’ve met your match.” Gaby giggled.

  “So what do you think about this place?”

  “Cool, but I’d like to take care of the sick animals, too.” Gaby looked toward the clinic. “Like Feather.” Daisy and Dr. Villalobos were at the clinic entrance, deep in conversation. Whatever they were discussing made Daisy drop her shoulders and Dr. Villalobos lower and shake his head. Gaby hoped whatever it was had nothing to do with Feather.

  Before the girls left the shelter for the day, Dr. Villalobos sat them in a circle outside on the grass. “Every day, shelters like ours accept thousands of dogs and cats brought in by animal control or people like you. Here at Furry Friends, these animals get a second chance to be loved and find a good home,” he said. “Unfortunately, right now our shelter is completely full. That means we can’t accept any more.”

  “Thousands?” Gaby asked.

  Dr. Villalobos nodded. “I have hundreds of stories about the dogs and cats here at the shelter. Some really sad stories, but they were lucky to wind up at our shelter.” He paused and looked back at the cage that housed Cinder, the rottweiler pup. “Cinder was found by police behind an abandoned house. She was tied with a thick chain to a post. Poor thing had scratched off all the fur around her neck trying to free herself. Her ear and tail had been ripped, possibly in a fight with another dog, and she was severely dehydrated and flea infested.”

  The mere mention of fleas made Gaby scratch her neck. She looked back at Cinder. Earlier, she had noticed that whenever any of the girls approached Cinder’s cage, the pup backed away and whimpered. Now Gaby understood why.

  “How about that little black-and-white dog? What’s his story?” Alma asked.

  “That’s Spike. He was found near the highway. From what animal control told us, Spike was running in and out of traffic barking at cars,” Dr. Villalobos said. “He’s lucky he wasn’t hit.”

  Alma shook her head. “That dog is nuts.”

  “Spike was adopted twice, but both times the families brought him back to the shelter complaining that he was too wild. I’m afraid if Spike doesn’t change he’ll never know the joy of a real home and family.”

  Alma gulped. “That’s not right.”

  “Poor Spike,” Gaby said.

  “Many of the cats were dumped here as newborns,” Dr. Villalobos continued. “So they’re like my babies.” All the girls sighed. “People don’t know what to do when their pet has a litter so they put them in a box and leave them at our door, which is still better than dumping them in the woods or open fields.”

  “In our neighborhood,” Alma said, “people dump their pets under the Parkway Bridge. It’s a big problem.”

  “So then you know what I’m talking about.” Dr. V. nodded. “I’m hoping you ladies can promote the shelter so that we can find homes for the animals here and open up space for other homeless animals.”

  Gaby raised her hand. “Can you put these stories on your website and on flyers?”

  Dr. Villalobos’s face brightened. “I’ve never had time to do that. Maybe you ladies could help me with it?”

  “Gaby could write them,” Alma said. Gaby jabbed her with her elbow.

  “Yes, she is a very creative writer,” Mrs. Kohler spoke up. Gaby peered over at Mrs. Kohler, who winked at her. “She will do a superb job.”

  Gaby dropped her head back, exasperated. Could she really write these stories?

  “Sweet! Our very own shelter scribe. How perfect is that?” Dr. Villalobos bobbed his head. “Too perfect.”

  Alma whispered to Gaby, “His tail is definitely wagging now.”

  Gaby glared at her. “Shelter scribe?”

  “Catchy, isn’t it?”

  Gaby rolled her eyes.

  By the end of the talk, the class had planned an entire adoption campaign for the shelter. They’d take new photos of each dog and cat for flyers and the website. A team of girls, led by Alma, would train dogs like Spike to be less wild and more adoptable. For the grand finale, they’d have an open house to bring people into the shelter.

  “We could call our open house Barkapalooza,” Dr. Villalobos said.

  The girls responded with polite smiles and a few claps.

  He howled, “What do you think, ladies? I want to hear some noise!”

  The girls screamed at the top of their lungs and Dr. Villalobos led them in a loud chant of “Barkapalooza.”

  At school, the girls were always being told to “keep it down” or “be quiet please, young ladies.” Dr. Villalobos seemed to prefer that they make as much noise as possible. Gaby liked that about him.

  As her classmates continued the chant all the way to the bus, Gaby pulled her notebook from her book bag. She thumbed through the blank pages. If her mom was around, she would tell Gaby to give todo su corazón and nothing less than her whole heart to help the animals, but Gaby had no idea what to write about them. Plus, there were a lot of dogs and cats in the shelter! She couldn’t write stories for all of them, could she? There weren’t enough words, adverbs, or adjectives in the dictionary to make a bunch of lost cats and unwanted dogs sound appealing. Were there?

  On the inside of the notebook cover, she wrote her mother’s words: “Animales depend on us to take care of them.” It wasn’t much, but it was true, and it was a start.

  The next day at school, Gaby received special permission from Mrs. Kohler to leave during silent reading time and go to the cafeteria to write profiles. She doodled an image of Spike chewing on his stuffed panda. Next, she sketched a picture of Feather with a bold M above her almond-shaped eyes. Still, no words came to her. There were so many dogs and cats that needed homes: Pouncer, Lemon, Cinder, Puck, Atticus, Secret, Snowflake, Bonita, Spike, and Feather. If the list never stopped, where was she supposed to start?

  Frustrated, Gaby looked around the
cafeteria. It was mostly empty except for the kitchen staff cleaning up after lunch and a group of eighth graders studying at the far end, near the stage. When she’d spotted them there, she considered going back to class, but she needed to get away to stir up her creative juices. She chose the table farthest away from the older girls. Any farther and she would have been outside in the teachers’ parking lot.

  The St. Ann’s cafeteria also served as the school’s theater. It was where they held their annual Christmas program, “Christmas Around the World.” The nuns burned cinnamon-scented candles to hide the cafeteria smell and each class presented on how Christmas was celebrated in a country of their choice. This year, the sixth graders had covered Mexico. Alma’s mom made Mexican sweet bread called conchas. And the class ended the presentation on Mexico by breaking a star-shaped piñata filled with pennies and Tootsie Rolls.

  Gaby’s class had wanted to present on Honduras in honor of Gaby’s mom, but Gaby had told them to wait until next Christmas. By then, she said, her mom would be home. She and her mom could prepare tamales made with plantain leaves, arroz con leche, and hot chocolate for everyone. It would be a true Honduran feast! And from center stage, Gaby imagined that she and Alma would lead the entire cafeteria in singing “Silent Night” in Spanish. Noche de paz … noche de amor …

  Next thing Gaby knew, Dolores and Jan were scowling at her from across the room. Gaby looked away, confused. What did she do? Then she realized that while she was staring off toward the stage, deep into “Silent Night,” it must have seemed like she was staring at them. Dolores and Jan were the ones who had given her the hardest time after her mom was arrested. She was certain it was Dolores who had left pictures of skinny, slant-eyed, cone-headed green space aliens on her locker. And if she passed Dolores and her sidekick, Jan, in the hallway, they’d cough “illegal,” or other awful names not worth repeating. Those had been some of the worst days of Gaby’s life.