My Own Four Cents [2016]

Chapter 9: A Hundred Dollars Richer

I walk around that afternoon after school, looking for... I don't know what. I don't see anything, even though animals are everywhere. I can barely see my own feet.

I go farther and farther into the woods, the night getting darker. I jump every time I see a movement, like a bird or a squirrel. I smell pine and a bunch of other scents I've never smelled before. I feel the leaves crumbling beneath my shoes. Branches of pine trees scrape my arms and brush scratches my legs through my jeans. I am about to turn back when I smell something familiar that triggers another memory.

When I was five, we once took care of a family friend's dog, and it smelled exactly like what I smell now.

I turn around and see a tiny little dog. It's black and white and is wearing a collar. I walk slowly toward the little guy, but he shies away.

I walk toward him calmly. He cocks his head at me.

Come on. What am I thinking, speaking in sign language to a dog?

I take the last step toward him, so I'm standing right next to him.

The dog wags his tail but stays where he is.

Come here, little guy. Seriously, Maria! Dogs don't speak sign language. What are you thinking?

I put out my head for him to smell. He stays perfectly still for a moment, then he nuzzles his nose against my hand. A little pink tongue pokes out of his mouth and wets my hand. I pet him and scratch him and he lies on his stomach, kicking his feet. I smile.

I glance at his collar. It says Beau. Owner: William Goodman. 46 Sunset Avenue. 694-013-5791.

This is Beau, the dog the people had set out a reward for.

I have to find them right away. I know that they would expect a phone call, but phones are useless to me. I have no choice but to find their house. I'm just hoping that they live around here.

How? I glance around, but I don't know where I am. I'm lost.

I look for the nearest earthbound light and walk toward it.

After about thirty minutes of walking with the dog in my arms, I stop to take a rest. I can just barely see the little terrier right next to me. My throat burns for water. The dog, Beau, is panting, staring at me with his tongue hanging out.

When we pass a stream, Beau jumps out of my arms and runs toward it. He rolls in it and laps up water happily.

I wish I could do that, but I know it's dangerous to drink water from a stream in the wilderness. Unless I'm a dog, which I'm not.

As night falls, I start getting worried. What if it gets totally dark and I'm not home yet? We'd have to sleep in the woods. What would I do then?

I finally see a streetlight very close. By now it's almost pitch dark. I walk toward it gratefully. We emerge from the woods at last, and I find a sign that can tell me where I am. It says Sunset Avenue.

Where have I seen that before? On Beau's collar. The people who own Beau live on this road.

I check the house number on Beau's collar: 46. I look at each mailbox and find number 46. Then I take out my notebook and plan what I will say to whoever lives at 46 Sunset Avenue.

Hi. My name is Maria. I found your dog Beau wandering in the woods and I knew he was yours because I saw your sign.

Then I ring the doorbell and take a deep breath.

A little girl appears at the door.She speaks to me, and I wish I could hear what she is saying. I hand her the notebook.

She reads it and then writes, Why aren't you talking?

I can't hear.

Oh.

This is your dog?

Oh yes! Thank you so much! I missed Beau.

The girl then calls into the house and both her parents rush in. They both ask me something.

The little girl explains to them. They smile and the girl writes again: We are happy you brought back Beau. We missed him a lot.

I smile back, and the woman goes into the other room for a while. She comes back with her wallet. The girl writes, What's your name?

Maria Valasquez.

Thank you, Maria Valasquez. I'm Hailey Goodman. Nice to meet you.

What's your mom doing?

She's giving you the reward, of course.

The reward! I forgot all about it. I look at Beau. He is lucky. He doesn't have to worry about a poor family or a sister in trouble.

The woman hands me a stack of money. I count it and it adds up to one hundred dollars!

My fingers shake as I write.

Thank you!

No, thank you. It's nothing compared to getting our dog back.

I leave the house one dog shorter and one hundred dollars richer.

Where on Earth did you get that money? Mom gasps when I pull the money out of my pocket.

I returned a lost dog.

Well, that's wonderful! And you got a reward for it?

Yeah.

I'm so proud of you!

Mom hugs me. Thank you.

No problem. I only found a dog and walked an hour through the woods to find them. I do it every day.

Don't be ridiculous. You are amazing.

Hey, it wasn't that big a deal. It's a hundred dollars-- that won't help you buy food.

I know, but I'm still proud of you.

Dad is so happy that I got the money. But I notice Mom and Dad being secretive. Mom and Dad are huddled in the living room, talking. Mom keeps glancing around like she doesn't want me to be around. I wish I could hear them!

Did I ever say being deaf isn't so bad? Sometimes it's a pain. I wish I could be normal. Being able to hear, not having an aide, talking to Tanisha the way everybody else does, getting to know the other kids in my class, living with my parents and sister and having plenty of money. But I can't. I can't even talk. I don't even know what loud means.

I tell Tanisha about the adventures of the night before, and she is very happy for me. Tanisha tells me she knows of a volunteer animal shelter that she's heard of near here. She tells me the phone number too. I ask her how she knows, and she says she saw it on an advertisement on her phone. I gasp, and she covers her mouth with her hand. Oops.

You have a PHONE?

Well, yeah.

Why didn't you tell me?

Because... well, I don't know.

Yeah, that's what she says. But I know the truth: she didn't want me to be jealous because her family has money and mine doesn't.

I hate being poor.

I know I shouldn't think like that, but it's true. I know I just gave my family a hundred dollars, but I know it won't help a lot. All I can do is make a small difference to my family, but maybe it will help them in the end. Maybe someday, I'll make a difference to the world, too.