Sniff It!

Sniff it!

Adventures in Happyland, book #1

By C.C. Reverie

Copyright 2014 C.C. Reverie

This

book

is dedicated

to my daughter, Maria,

who

first

imagined

the world and the characters

of Happyland

Thank you,

To my daughter, Maria, to whom this book is dedicated, for helping create the story and the characters;

To my husband, Bill, for his quiet support;

To my sister, Rodica, for making the cover of the book;

To my editor, Morten Rand, who polished my manuscript, gave me advice and, most of all, believed in my work;

To my first beta readers, Lindsey and Pam Siebert, for their precious feedback;

To all of you who bought this book, for giving me your time and trust.

Thank You!

CHAPTER 1

No creature on this planet deserves to be alone on a cold, mean night, when the wind howls and the icy raindrops of a late November shatter against dark windows. But fate is not always fair, everybody knows it. When the hunger strikes like a knife, tearing guts, when the frigid air cuts deep into the bones, when the night is so dark that the owls can't find their way home, someone who's out alone must be the most miserable being on Earth. Or at least in that town and on that specific street, under that particular tree. And when the sky clears for a minute and the rays of a shiny moon fall on the down through the branches of an infinite tree, he’s there, a dog coiled on the ground, trying hard to ignore the annoying rumble of his empty stomach.

Looking around, he thought he saw the shadow of a creature poking on the building wall, across the street. From where he was hiding, Pepper raised his head and perked up his ears. The wind was loud enough to cover the soft, sneaky noises, but he could still hear the rustle of the leaves on the ground, near the corner, across the street, by the big garbage bin.

Ah, a mouse or a rat, nothing a dog needs to bother about, he told himself, resting his head on his front paws.

Pepper tried to sleep, but the smell of cooked food that came from a nearby building was too strong. He closed his eyes and fell into a short nap, dreaming of mountains of juicy bones that were rolling over, almost killing him.

A few hours ago, lured by a yummy scent, he had circled the building and determined it was that kind of place where some humans cook tons of food and others eat it. He was just waiting for the humans to leave so he could search the large waste bins for leftovers.

He couldn't risk getting caught by the dog hunters. Once, Pepper had spent a few weeks in a kennel and didn't find it fun at all. First, there are too many dogs that talk at the same time; second, there’s always this smell of poop and pee that made him sick from his guts; third, you are not allowed to move around, the most you can do is going in and out of your sleeping place. But the worst thing is that they kill you if no human wants you. That had happened to his best friend. He could still shed tears over it.

However, this was no time to become sentimental. His instincts had a better job to do, a.k.a. to keep him out of trouble until he got to those garbage bins and squeezed his body inside. Oh! he sighed and fell asleep again.

Pepper was one tired dog after having to travel a great deal, not yet to his destination. He was heading to Happyland, the town where he was, once, a happy dog and where he was hoping to find his lost fortune. For he wanted to return to his master. He had replayed the facts in his mind over and over again, and still couldn’t understand what had happened that day he got lost. All he knew was that he had to find his way back.

But going back is no easy job for a dog that has not used a compass, or anything for that matter, to show directions or where to go. Of course, he had a vague idea, mostly driven by the different smells he had sniffed along the way. But there was nothing like the scent of his previous home, even though sometimes he got clues from the various surroundings.

His heart still fluttered whenever he remembered the subway episode. It was in Pine City, during an early, brutal winter, his first month on the streets. He had made no friends, had no food, nor shelter. Heavy snow had fallen over the town, and there was no place for him to hide; it was either wet and cold, or too exposed to dangers. Finally, one night, he stumbled upon a stairway that led him to the subway. Oh, my, how happy he was... At first, he discovered a spot by the cleaning room – a dark corner where he thought he was safe. But one morning, a big round man stumbled upon him and shooed him away, threatening with a spiked broom. Forced to leave, tail tucked between his legs, Pepper jumped on an empty wagon standing still at the platform. Then the doors closed behind him and the train moved, gaining speed in seconds. Surprised and a little dizzy, he sneaked under a plastic chair, waiting to see what might happen next. At the following station, the wagon came to a halt, but Pepper didn't want to leave for he liked the pleasant rocking of the moving train on the tracks.

He spent the winter in the subway, eating out of the garbage cans, sleeping under chairs inside the trains and making friends with the rats and mice roaming around the station at night.

He considered himself content until the day when someone sat on the chair he was hiding under. It was the smell that startled him – a sweet and pungent odor like a gingerbread cookie but lighter, mellower, a homey odor. Almost paralyzed with excitement, Pepper pulled himself closer to the man's legs, sniffing his black, well-polished shoes, then moving up to the man's cuffed pant, sniffing intently, forgetting he was in a hostile environment, in hiding. Pepper abandoned himself to the sweet memories, reviving the moments when his master would bring home a huge clear plastic bag full of clothes, smelling somehow so different than anything else in the house. And for days, that scent would float around the bedroom, stronger in the closet, following his master whenever he got dressed to leave.

The man in the subway train changed position, crossing his legs, away from Pepper's nose. The dog pulled back, shy but happy. He was sure he had found his master. His only problem was how to present himself before him. First, he was dirty and unkempt, almost unrecognizable. His brown and white silky fur was now black and rough to the touch, with occasional fleas scattered around the warmest parts of his body. Second, he felt guilty about the separation, so there was a chance that his master might be upset with him. And third, what if his master wouldn't recognize him?

Not sure what to do, Pepper stayed put until the train stopped and the man got out. Creeping between passengers, Pepper followed the man outside the wagon and up the stairway, to the exit. From a safe distance and trusting his nose, the dog kept on going until they both reached a parking lot. It was time for Pepper to take action. His heart was pounding, his breath was heavy and fast. He stopped and barked. The sound came out thin and frail, after months of abstinence. The man stopped too and turned around. They looked at each other in surprise, none of them recognizing the other. Confused and brokenhearted, Pepper backed up a few steps, still barking slightly, not knowing if he should stay or run, for that man was not his master but a stranger. The dog watched him driving away and vanishing forever – and with him, Pepper's hope of return.

* * *

The wind was intense, blowing leaves off the tree above him. One of them came swirling down and crashed against Pepper's nose, before being rushed along the street, into the night. The dog opened his eyes, raised his head and yawned. He looked up. No star was breaking through the blanket of clouds. He peeked around. Just falling leaves, rain, and shadows running in the headlights of the cars on the street.

When he was just about to go back to sleep, Pepper detected movement around the back stairs of the building across the street that he had been keeping under surveillance for hours. It was hard to see in the dark, but his trained eyes caught the shape of a four-legged creature. It's a cat, he thought.

The creature stopped and looked around with suspicion. Then she lowered her body to the ground in a waiting pose. Pepper watched and waited. In his experience, no cat would go out on a night like this without a good reason. As far as he could see and smell, the cat was as stray as he was. Suddenly, she sprang forward and, with an elegant leap, disappeared behind the trash cans. A burst of metallic noises rose from the scene, echoing loud on the deserted street. Scratchy sounds, mixed with cat spit and a grievous cry, made Pepper's hair go up straight on his spine. He almost felt the pain of the poor creature that had been attacked by such a beast. Because it didn't matter how small or how cute cats were, in his eyes they were real monsters. So arrogant with the weak, so selfish, so hat in hands when needed. A species meant to terrorize. Pepper had encountered many cats in his stray years and learned neither to pay attention to them, nor to interfere with the cats' business. Better to walk away when you meet one. But tonight, he had to wait because that garbage bin where all the fighting was taking place was his last resort before starvation.

The fight stopped, but Pepper could still sniff the feline, her body smelling like blood clots and pee, fear and anguish. Hidden behind the trash containers there was someone else, someone not as scared as the cat may have hoped, but nervous enough to make her stalk the creature with eagerness.

Now, the whole thing was very inconvenient for Pepper. Midnight was coming soon, and the workers at the restaurant would take out the food waste and leave. That was the moment Pepper was waiting for, the time when fresh foods would be thrown away. Then he would get out of his nest and, with his strong teeth, tear the bags open, feasting on the scraps, undisturbed, till morning. But now he was afraid that the wild beast would hang around and he wouldn't be able to eat. And he was sure he didn't have enough strength to fight it out. On the other hand, cats could be on a watch forever and not move a whisker in hours.

After weighing his options, Pepper curled back into a ball, sighing softly. The night was going to be long and gloomy. Pepper napped and dreamt about the last time he had enjoyed a decent meal, some days back, in a little town when he stumbled upon a late picnic and a table left unsupervised. He had eaten some chicken wings on the spot and had carried some others into the nearby woods and buried them. He dreamt he was back in those woods, scoping out the chicken wings from the frozen ground. But the sweet moment didn't last too long. He was fast awakened from his nap by another roar, this time more forceful. In a split second, he saw the cat's silhouette plunging from the height of the garbage bin and knocking down the lid, which hit the sidewalk with a terrible loud noise. The cat ran in circles several times, spitting, scratching and caterwauling. She came to a halt, arching her spine, her front paws together, closed around a poor creature.

Pepper felt startled. His body changed position and his black and brown ears pointed up, like two large funnels. Through the whistles of the wind and the roars of the car engines, he was trying to catch a noise coming from the other side of the street. It seemed that someone was calling his name.

I must be delirious, thought the dog.

He left his place under the tree and crawled to the edge of the sidewalk.

Here boy, come here, someone said in a soft but firm voice.

Is there anybody speaking to me? Pepper wondered. It seemed like a voice coming from across the street was barking, just like a dog or like a puppy, a grown-up puppy. Pepper waited. He did not want to talk back. His loud and hoarse bark could alert the neighborhood, and that was not an option. And maybe the voice did not even address him. A few seconds passed, and he was just about to go back under the tree when the call came again.

Here boy, come here!

It was just like his master used to say sometimes: Good boy!... Come here, boy!... Fetch that, boy! But Pepper was no fool, he wouldn't fall for the joke. Whoever was calling him, he was not to respond. It is a trap, he thought. But just as he decided to ignore the whole thing, the voice called him again.

Hey you, you dog. I'm talking to you!

Taken by surprise, Pepper let out a growl. At the sound of it, the cat meowed and spat.

Hey, easy now, no need to be mean, said the voice defensively.

The dog growled again, softer this time. He thought about it for a moment trying to understand who was speaking and from where. The way it sounded, young and fresh, made him think it was an adolescent dog still changing his voice. But the manner was nothing like a puppy. On the contrary, it was like a big, arrogant buttonhole, to say the least. Bewildered, Pepper shook the rain off his fur.

Could there be another dog hiding somewhere? His nose gave him no clue.

Breathing heavily, the creature called again.

Listen up dog! The anonymous voice was now mellow and persuasive. Here is what you have to do... You listen now? All right. Look across the road. You see a big dirty cat beast? I need you to chase her away.

Perplex, Pepper didn't move.

Right now! cried the voice, filled with pain.

No way! replied Pepper at once. I'm not chasing no cats tonight.

Realizing he was responding to an unseen creature, perhaps a wicked one, Pepper added: And who are you, if I may?

Look dog, I don't have time for explanations and conversations. I'm gonna die soon if you don't do anything.

So be it, concluded Pepper. And oh, by the way, my name is Pepper, not dog, he added, spiteful but proud. And as to demonstrate it, he raised his head, opened his nostrils and sniffed the air deeply. There was the smell of the cat, a monster no doubt. Then there was another creature with a more sophisticated scent, like it was hidden or tinted.