Short Story: Where’s Wally?

by Diane Barnes

Henry hangs the last of thirty flyers on the bulletin board inside Holy Grounds. His eyes fill with tears as he looks at the picture of Wally with the Red Sox bandana tied around his neck. Missing Black Lab, the headline reads. If found, please contact Henry. His phone number runs across the bottom of the paper in large bold font. He posted the signs all over downtown Hudson and Marlboro and all along the bike path connecting the two towns as well as on social media.

Wally’s been missing for twenty-eight hours. He got away from the dog sitter, Henry’s twelve-year-old neighbor Kayla. Yesterday was her third day on the job. She forgot to close the fence gate. When Henry returned home after work, Kayla, her parents, and two brothers were waiting in his driveway. The girl was crying too hard to speak, gasping for air every time she tried. Her father told Henry that Wally escaped. The family had been looking for him all afternoon.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Kayla’s entire body trembled as the words spilled out.

Henry pulled the girl into a tight embrace. “It’s okay. He’ll come home.”

Now, he isn’t so sure. Last night, he heard the coyotes that live in the woods behind his house howling, and he feared they were attacking Wally. When he finally fell asleep, he had nightmares that Wally got hit by a car.

Henry’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He pulls it out, hoping whoever’s calling has news about Wally. “Have you found him?” Kayla’s voice cracks.

Henry swallows the lump in his throat. “Not yet.”

Kayla disconnects without saying anything else. For his sake as well as the girl’s, Henry prays Wally comes home soon.

“You okay, man?” a teenaged boy with a ponytail asks. He’s standing to Henry’s right, sipping a cup of coffee and reading the bulletin board.

Henry points to his flyer. “My dog’s missing.”

The teenager puts his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “That’s rough.” He leans closer to Wally’s picture. “Whoa dude, your dog looks exactly like Xander, my friend Aidan’s dog. I mean exactly.” He taps his phone and thrusts it under Henry’s nose. There’s a picture of a black lab that does look like Wally. He’s even wearing a similar bandana.

“Probably came from the same litter,” Henry says. He bought Wally from a breeder in Stowe, the next town over.

“I’ll keep a look out for him.” The teenager pats Henry’s back again. “I’m sure he’ll show up.”

Henry thanks the kid, who he decides he likes very much, and heads out of the coffee shop. As he makes his way down the sidewalk toward his car, the hot summer sun beats down on him. Wally must be thirsty, he thinks. How long can dogs survive without water?

#

Four days have passed since Wally went missing. Henry roams aimlessly through his house, tearing up every time he sees a dog toy or the dog’s dishes. He’s convinced himself that someone found Wally and decided to keep him. He needs to believe this because he doesn’t want to think about the alternative. He hopes the person has lots of kids who shower Wally with love and attention.

Kayla has called every day. Henry’s heart breaks each time he has to tell her that Wally’s still not home. Today, he couldn’t bring himself to answer her call.

Henry settles on the couch to watch the Red Sox game and remembers he hasn’t had dinner. In fact, he’s had nothing to eat since breakfast. In the kitchen, he opens the refrigerator to search for something to eat. He waits for Wally to come running because that’s what the dog does every time Henry prepares himself a meal, and Henry usually shares some of whatever it is he’s eating. Of course tonight, Wally doesn’t come running, and pain washes over Henry again. He closes the refrigerator without taking anything out and returns to the living room.

The Red Sox mascot, who Wally was named after, fills the TV screen, dancing on top of the dugout. It’s all too much for Henry. He clicks off the television and sits in silence in the dark room. He falls asleep and wakes to the sound of the doorbell and barking, Wally’s weird toylike bark.

Henry races downstairs and pulls open the door. Wally leaps up on him, resting his front paws on Henry’s chest and licking his face. Henry buries his head in the dog’s soft black fur. “Oh buddy, I missed you so much,” he says.

After several seconds, Henry lifts his eyes and notices a woman with dark curly hair standing on the landing watching him and Wally. “Roni Cheevers.”

Henry grins. He wants to hug her. Heck, he wants to marry her because she has brought his Wally home.

“Funny story,” she says. “My neighbors left for vacation on Wednesday. They have a black lab, Xander. He looks just like this guy. I mean exactly like him.” She stops speaking to pet Wally. “I saw him standing in their backyard and thought they’d somehow left their dog behind. They’re the kind of knuckleheads to do something like that.” She shrugs. “They came home today. Imagine my surprise when I saw they had their dog with them. I finally read this guy’s tags.” She shrugs again. “I guess I’m the knucklehead.”

“I’m just glad he’s home and safe,” Henry says.

“I should have checked his tags as soon as I found him. Sorry for any trouble I put you through.”

As soon as she leaves, Henry snaps a leash on Wally and walks him across the street to Kayla’s. The girl falls to her knees to embrace Wally, tears streaking down her face.

“You coming over tomorrow to watch him?” Henry asks.

Kayla wipes her eyes. “You still trust me with him?”

Henry nods. He thinks it’s important to give the girl another chance for her confidence. “You’ll make sure the gate is closed this time.”

“I swear,” Kayla says. “I’ll double check. I’ll triple check.”

“Wally will see you tomorrow then.”

Henry tussles Kayla’s hair and takes Wally home. He grills himself a steak and splits it with the dog.