×

We use cookies to help make LingQ better. By visiting the site, you agree to our cookie policy.


image

Novellas, Hotel for Dogs by Lois Duncan ch 1-2

Hotel for Dogs by Lois Duncan ch 1-2

The September sun was waiting for them when they went outside into the front yard. It fell warm across their heads and shoulders, just as it had back in Albuquerque the day they left. The sky curved rich and blue overhead, and there was a faint, far-off smell of autumn in the air.

“Elmwood isn't really such a bad place,” Bruce said. “That house down the street is cool with those vines and bushes all over it, like a hideout in the middle of a forest. I wish we were going to be living there.”

“Well, we aren't,” Andi said. She was not ready to see the good side of anything. “We're going to be living with allergic Aunt Alice and her white rugs, and I'm going to be ‘sweet little Andrea,' and you're going to be ‘darling Bruce,' and I don't think I can stand it.” “Don't worry,” Bruce said, “you won't be ‘sweet Andrea' for long. Not after she gets to know what you're really like. Besides, we'll be at school most of the time, and Dad will be off at work. It will be Mom who has to sit in the house all day and soak it up.”

Bruce's camera case hung by a strap from his shoulder. Now he opened it and took out his camera.

“Stand over there by the steps, and I'll get your picture. You can send it to Holly Arquette to show to Bebe.”

“All right,” Andi said more agreeably. It wasn't often that Bruce offered to photograph his sister. Usually he concentrated on more interesting subject matter.

She had been standing by the porch steps for about thirty seconds when she heard Bruce say, “Hey!”

“Hey, what?” Andi asked him.

“Hey, look who's come visiting! He wants his picture taken. Look at him pose!”

Andi turned to find her brother aiming his camera, not at her, but at a big red dog who stood surveying them from the line between Aunt Alice's house and the one she had told them belonged to the Gordons.

“Where did he come from?” Andi asked, too surprised to feel insulted because she would no longer be the subject of the picture.

“I don't know, but he shouldn't be out wandering. He's a beauty, isn't he?” Shifting his camera to his left hand, Bruce held his right one out to the dog. “Here, boy, come over and see me. Do you live around here?”

Waving his full red tail like a welcoming banner, the dog came eagerly forward to meet his new friend. Dropping to his knees, Bruce took the soft face in his hands and smiled into its brown eyes.

“I didn't think you liked dogs all that much,” Andi said. “You never spend time playing with Bebe.”

“Bebe's spoiled,” Bruce said. “She doesn't want to play, she just wants to be petted. This big fellow is a man's dog. I bet he'd be fun to take —”

“What do you think you're doing with my dog?” The coldness of the voice cut like a knife through the soft afternoon.

Bruce glanced up in surprise at the tall, blond-haired boy who was suddenly standing in front of him.

“Hi,” he said in his friendly way. “You must be Jerry Gordon. Aunt Alice said you lived next door. I'm Bruce Walker, and that's my sister, Andi. We're going to be your neighbors for a while.”

“I didn't ask who you were,” the boy said curtly. “I asked you what you think you're doing with Red Rover. That's an expensive dog with a mile-long pedigree. My dad gave him to me for my birthday, and nobody messes around with him without my permission.”

“Bruce isn't hurting him. All he did was take his picture.” Andi left her place by the steps and came across the lawn to join the two boys. “I don't think this is your dog anyway. If he was, he wouldn't be acting like that.”

At the sound of the boy's voice the dog had pressed himself tightly against Bruce's leg.

“He's mine, all right,” Jerry Gordon said. He snapped his fingers. “Come on, Red. Get over there in your own yard.”

Instead of obeying, the dog dropped his head and whined nervously. He seemed to huddle even harder against Bruce, as though begging for protection.

“What's the matter with him?” Bruce asked. “I've never seen my sister's dog act like that. She comes leaping when Andi calls her.”

“He's stubborn,” the tall boy said. “I haven't got him trained yet. Red Rover, you get over there, do you hear me?”

Raising his hand, he brought it down in a hard stroke between the dog's shoulder blades. Red Rover gave a yelp of pain. Dashing past his master, he ran across the yard and disappeared around the corner of the house.

“Is that what you call training?” Bruce gave a snort of disgust. “No wonder the poor thing's scared of you. He'll end up hating you if you keep on treating him that way.”

“You don't deserve to have a dog!” Andi's voice was choked with fury. “If I was Red Rover, I'd bite your arm off!”

“He's got to learn to obey,” Jerry Gordon said. “You've got to show a dog who's boss. If he acts like he ought to, then I'm nice to him.” He paused and then added in a more pleasant voice, “That goes for people, too. You behave yourself, and maybe I'll let you come over sometime.” He nodded at Bruce. “You, I mean. Your dorky sister is something else.”

“What makes you think I'd come if you invited me?” Bruce asked. “Maybe I'd rather look for other friends.”

“Sure you'd come,” Jerry said confidently. “All the guys in the neighborhood want to hang out at my place. I've got more cool stuff than the rest of you put together. They're not going to risk getting in bad with me by being friends with a shrimp like you.”

“My brother's not a shrimp!” Andi said angrily. “He's a straight-A student and an awesome photographer! Everybody likes Bruce! Back in Albuquerque he was voted president of his class!”

“Maybe you western weirdo types like shrimp,” Jerry said. “Here in the East we eat them for dinner. And we don't much like fat little girls, especially when they talk funny.”

“I am not fat!” cried Andi, who really wasn't — only a little plump and not nearly as much as she had been when she was younger. “And I don't talk funny! You're the one with a stupid accent!”

“Ah don't tawk funnnnnnnny!” Jerry gave an imitation of a western drawl like the ones on TV shows. Then suddenly his eyes lifted, and the sneering expression left his face. In its place there appeared the sweetest smile imaginable.

“Hi, Mrs. Scudder!” he called. “How are you today?”

Bruce and Andi turned simultaneously to see Aunt Alice standing on the front porch with their parents close behind her. She was evidently bringing the Walkers out to show them her garden.

“Just fine, Jerry, dear,” she called back, her face breaking into a broad smile at the sight of the three children together. “I'm so happy you've met each other! I was telling Bruce and Andi that we have the sweetest boy next door. I was coming out to introduce you, but I see that you're friends already!”


Hotel for Dogs by Lois Duncan ch 1-2 Hotel para perros de Lois Duncan cap 1-2 Отель для собак" Лоис Дункан гл. 1-2

The September sun was waiting for them when they went outside into the front yard. It fell warm across their heads and shoulders, just as it had back in Albuquerque the day they left. The sky curved rich and blue overhead, and there was a faint, far-off smell of autumn in the air.

“Elmwood isn’t really such a bad place,” Bruce said. “That house down the street is cool with those vines and bushes all over it, like a hideout in the middle of a forest. I wish we were going to be living there.”

“Well, we aren’t,” Andi said. She was not ready to see the good side of anything. “We’re going to be living with allergic Aunt Alice and her white rugs, and I’m going to be ‘sweet little Andrea,' and you’re going to be ‘darling Bruce,' and I don’t think I can stand it.” “Don’t worry,” Bruce said, “you won’t be ‘sweet Andrea' for long. Not after she gets to know what you’re really like. Besides, we’ll be at school most of the time, and Dad will be off at work. It will be Mom who has to sit in the house all day and soak it up.”

Bruce’s camera case hung by a strap from his shoulder. Now he opened it and took out his camera.

“Stand over there by the steps, and I’ll get your picture. You can send it to Holly Arquette to show to Bebe.”

“All right,” Andi said more agreeably. It wasn’t often that Bruce offered to photograph his sister. Usually he concentrated on more interesting subject matter.

She had been standing by the porch steps for about thirty seconds when she heard Bruce say, “Hey!”

“Hey, what?” Andi asked him.

“Hey, look who’s come visiting! He wants his picture taken. Look at him pose!”

Andi turned to find her brother aiming his camera, not at her, but at a big red dog who stood surveying them from the line between Aunt Alice’s house and the one she had told them belonged to the Gordons.

“Where did he come from?” Andi asked, too surprised to feel insulted because she would no longer be the subject of the picture.

“I don’t know, but he shouldn’t be out wandering. He’s a beauty, isn’t he?” Shifting his camera to his left hand, Bruce held his right one out to the dog. “Here, boy, come over and see me. Do you live around here?”

Waving his full red tail like a welcoming banner, the dog came eagerly forward to meet his new friend. Dropping to his knees, Bruce took the soft face in his hands and smiled into its brown eyes.

“I didn’t think you liked dogs all that much,” Andi said. “You never spend time playing with Bebe.”

“Bebe’s spoiled,” Bruce said. “She doesn’t want to play, she just wants to be petted. This big fellow is a man’s dog. I bet he’d be fun to take —”

“What do you think you’re doing with my dog?” The coldness of the voice cut like a knife through the soft afternoon.

Bruce glanced up in surprise at the tall, blond-haired boy who was suddenly standing in front of him.

“Hi,” he said in his friendly way. “You must be Jerry Gordon. Aunt Alice said you lived next door. I’m Bruce Walker, and that’s my sister, Andi. We’re going to be your neighbors for a while.”

“I didn’t ask who you were,” the boy said curtly. “I asked you what you think you’re doing with Red Rover. That’s an expensive dog with a mile-long pedigree. My dad gave him to me for my birthday, and nobody messes around with him without my permission.”

“Bruce isn’t hurting him. All he did was take his picture.” Andi left her place by the steps and came across the lawn to join the two boys. “I don’t think this is your dog anyway. If he was, he wouldn’t be acting like that.”

At the sound of the boy’s voice the dog had pressed himself tightly against Bruce’s leg.

“He’s mine, all right,” Jerry Gordon said. He snapped his fingers. “Come on, Red. Get over there in your own yard.”

Instead of obeying, the dog dropped his head and whined nervously. He seemed to huddle even harder against Bruce, as though begging for protection.

“What’s the matter with him?” Bruce asked. “I’ve never seen my sister’s dog act like that. She comes leaping when Andi calls her.”

“He’s stubborn,” the tall boy said. “I haven’t got him trained yet. Red Rover, you get over there, do you hear me?”

Raising his hand, he brought it down in a hard stroke between the dog’s shoulder blades. Red Rover gave a yelp of pain. Dashing past his master, he ran across the yard and disappeared around the corner of the house.

“Is that what you call training?” Bruce gave a snort of disgust. “No wonder the poor thing’s scared of you. He’ll end up hating you if you keep on treating him that way.”

“You don’t deserve to have a dog!” Andi’s voice was choked with fury. “If I was Red Rover, I’d bite your arm off!”

“He’s got to learn to obey,” Jerry Gordon said. “You’ve got to show a dog who’s boss. If he acts like he ought to, then I’m nice to him.” He paused and then added in a more pleasant voice, “That goes for people, too. You behave yourself, and maybe I’ll let you come over sometime.” He nodded at Bruce. “You, I mean. Your dorky sister is something else.”

“What makes you think I’d come if you invited me?” Bruce asked. “Maybe I’d rather look for other friends.”

“Sure you’d come,” Jerry said confidently. “All the guys in the neighborhood want to hang out at my place. I’ve got more cool stuff than the rest of you put together. They’re not going to risk getting in bad with me by being friends with a shrimp like you.”

“My brother’s not a shrimp!” Andi said angrily. “He’s a straight-A student and an awesome photographer! Everybody likes Bruce! Back in Albuquerque he was voted president of his class!”

“Maybe you western weirdo types like shrimp,” Jerry said. “Here in the East we eat them for dinner. And we don’t much like fat little girls, especially when they talk funny.”

“I am not fat!” cried Andi, who really wasn’t — only a little plump and not nearly as much as she had been when she was younger. “And I don’t talk funny! You’re the one with a stupid accent!”

“Ah don’t tawk funnnnnnnny!” Jerry gave an imitation of a western drawl like the ones on TV shows. Then suddenly his eyes lifted, and the sneering expression left his face. In its place there appeared the sweetest smile imaginable.

“Hi, Mrs. Scudder!” he called. “How are you today?”

Bruce and Andi turned simultaneously to see Aunt Alice standing on the front porch with their parents close behind her. She was evidently bringing the Walkers out to show them her garden.

“Just fine, Jerry, dear,” she called back, her face breaking into a broad smile at the sight of the three children together. “I’m so happy you’ve met each other! I was telling Bruce and Andi that we have the sweetest boy next door. I was coming out to introduce you, but I see that you’re friends already!”