Patches Read Free Page B

ate two breakfasts, one at home and one at the Petersons’. “Hey,” he said when he saw Charles. “Ready to go see Patches?”
    “Who’s Patches?” Mom asked as she put the syrup and butter away.
    “Nobody,” Charles said. “I mean, he’s just a puppy we know.”
    “Charles!” His mother gave him a stern look. “Are you going to come home with another puppy to foster? Because if you are —”
    “I’m not!” Charles said. “I promise. We’re just visiting.”
    “Okay.” Mom didn’t look totally convinced.
    Charles didn’t want to tell Mom all about Patches quite yet. He and Sammy had decided to spy on Patches’s family that morning and make sure they were treating him right. Somehow, Charles didn’t think his mom would approve. Spying was not high on her list of okay things to do. But Charles thought it was important to check up on Patches.
    Charles gave Buddy and the Bean good-bye hugs. Then he and Sammy hopped on their bikes and rode to Ferndale Drive. This time Charles walked right up onto the porch of the haunted house. Now that he knew all the moaning came from Patches, and not from a ghost, he felt safe.
    “Here, behind these vines,” Sammy whisperedwhen they got to the back porch. “We can see everything, but nobody can see us.”
    They sat down behind the vines. Charles pulled out the little notebook he had brought so that they could keep track of how Patches was being treated.
    Patches was tied out in the garage again. But this time he wasn’t crying. This time he was getting at least a
little
bit of attention. First, two kids came out of the house, a boy and a girl about Lizzie’s age. The girl gave Patches a little pat when she passed him on her way to get her bike out of the garage. The boy didn’t pat him, but he said, “Hey, Patches.”
    Charles could tell that Patches would have liked more attention. But the kids jumped onto their bikes and rode off. Charles made some notes in his notebook.
    A few minutes later, a lady who must have been the kids’ mom came outside. She went to the hose and filled up Patches’s water bowl. His tail waggedwhen she put it down for him, but she didn’t pat him or say anything to him.
    “Wanda!” somebody yelled from inside. “Where are you?”
    It must have been the dad. His voice was loud. Charles wondered if he was mad. Mad enough to be mean to a puppy? Charles hoped not.
    “I’m out here with the dog,” the woman called back. “I’ll be right in.” She rearranged the blankets that made up the puppy’s bed, then headed inside.
    Charles made some more notes while he and Sammy sat and waited for something else to happen. Nothing much did. After a while, the kids came back on their bicycles. They left them in the driveway and ran inside without saying hello to Patches. A little bit later, the whole family came out.
    “Whoa,” Charles whispered when he saw the dad. He was a big guy, like football-player big. And he was frowning. He didn’t even glance at Patches.
    “Let’s go,” he said to the kids. “We’re late.”
    The family piled into the car and drove off without saying good-bye to Patches. As the car disappeared down the driveway, Patches began to howl.
    Charles didn’t even stop to write any notes in his spy notebook. He jumped up and ran right across the driveway and into the garage. He gave Patches a big hug. “You poor guy,” he muttered into the soft fur on the puppy’s neck. “All you want is a little more attention.”
    It felt so good to be hugged! Patches snuggled into the boy’s arms. He could have stayed there forever.
    “Charles!”
    Charles looked up. Sammy was standing on the porch, waving both arms. “Charles, there’s somebody home!” Sammy said in a loud whisper.
    Oops! Charles gave Patches one last squeeze,then dashed back across the driveway. When he joined Sammy on the porch, Sammy pointed to the side window of the house next door. The man in the red sweater was sitting there again!
    “But