The Glasgow Gray: Spot and Smudge - Book 2 Read online

  After the woman watched them leave she noticed they had left behind a small tattered stuffed toy on the floor under the bench. It looked like a chicken.

  The woman was thinking about getting up and chasing after them when one of the black dogs tore back into the station, weaving through the crowd. It scooped up the toy at a run without slowing and zig-zagged back towards the boy and the trains.

  The woman watched them disappear through the doors of the platform. She tore open the candy bar and took a big bite as her brow crinkled and her brain wrestled.

  Chapter 15

  It took Ben fifteen hushed minutes on the phone and a dozen texts to convince his family that everything was fine and they had made the train. No harm done.

  Kelcy texted that he had exceeded the train’s duh-nage limit and Ben had to admit that was a pretty good one.

  An old ticket taker in a smart blue uniform and red tie took a shine to the pups and escorted them to a big seat on one of the train’s upper decks. He even asked some older teens to clear out and give the service dogs some room.

  As he looked at Ben’s ticket he said, “So you gonna be with us all the way to Pahtland? You might as well get comfortable. If you have something to spread out on the seats the dahgs can hop up, I whant tell if you dhan’t.” There was something in the man’s smile and Maine accent that reminded Ben a bit of Papa.

  The ticket man checked back with them every so often and even smuggled the dogs a few hotdogs from the snack car.

  The Downeaster ran north from Boston, and then through the tip of New Hampshire before angling east to follow the coast into the lower part of eastern Maine. Ben and the pups followed their progress on the little satphone-tethered tablet, taking turns reading little blurbs about the coastline, and how Downeast was the nickname for that part of Maine. The trip took about three hours and included stops at the oceanfront towns of Wells, Saco, and Old Orchard Beach. The conductor had walked through at each stop and took a moment to explain each town’s charms, which apparently had a lot to do with lobster, and he explained in the summer months these vacation stops would be thick with sunburnt travelers.

  They arrived at the Portland station in Maine in the late afternoon. Ben and the pups were met by the Hastings. Carl had worked for Papa at the printing factory and Mimi and Rebecca had kept in touch. Ben was starting to realize that everyone who met Mimi tended to stay in touch. His grandmother bought stamps by the roll for her Christmas cards.

  As he and the pups jumped into the back of the minivan Rebecca told Ben they’d met before, and launched into a very long story about how she’d watched Kelcy while Ben was getting born.

  Ben and pups stayed with the Hastings for a total of fourteen hours, and aside from the seven hours they slept Rebecca talked to them the entire time as she doted on the three of them. Spot confirmed she actually did stop talking at some point after she turned out their light and closed the door, but Ben wasn’t so sure. She was still talking when she came into their room the next morning so he was convinced she’d talked the entire night in between.

  Rebecca prattled on about the factory and their days in Pembury as she made sure they were fed, cleaned up, called home, put into a comfy bed, woke up on time, donned fresh drawers, fed again, resupplied with snacks, and were delivered on time at the Portland bus station.

  As Rebecca told Ben every detail of Kelcy’s visit on her way up to Hamish’s, and Hamish’s frequent stops when he drove through, Carl checked on Ben’s tickets with the bus driver. He nodded to the driver and then stuffed the second envelope, marked ‘Portland’, back into Ben’s bag.

  Carl gave the pups a pat and Ben a clap on the back, and Rebecca was still saying goodbye as he climbed onto the bus bound for the Canadian border. As he and the dogs took a seat and he waved down at his hosts Ben realized he had not heard Carl utter one word the entire visit.

  Even with a full night’s rest they were exhausted, partly from the trip and partly from trying to keep up with Rebecca’s running dialog. Spot almost nodded off while peeing in the snow in the Hasting’s back yard, and shortly after settling into their seats they quickly snuggled up and dropped back into a deep, comfortable sleep.

  Spot and Smudge were wrapped around each other under their fleece blanket, with the chicken plush toy sandwiched between them. The dogs took up the window seat and half of Ben’s seat, but he was half laying on them so they were all comfortable.

  Aside from the odd stretch or yawn they didn’t move until the bus pulled into Bangor two hours later. A cold front had moved in overnight and when they jumped off the bus for a bathroom break they were right back on it a minute later, shaking.

  Chapter 16

  Two and a half hours later the bus pulled into the circular drop-off at the border crossing near the small town of Calais, Maine. The cheery bus driver announced that the easternmost point in the United States was just a few miles down the road. He also announced that the bus would pick up the passengers in Canada, on the other side of the lot after it had been inspected and the passengers had cleared the border control.

  Where the train had hugged the Maine coastline and offered intermittent views of rocky shores and the Atlantic, the bus had travelled inland, cutting through the rolling hills of the snowy Maine countryside. The land started to stretch out into long uninterrupted spaces as they neared the border and moved away from the suburbs and strip malls. Ben texted a few pictures of the more interesting things he saw, and at one bus stop sent Kelcy a selfie of him and the pups peeing on a moose crossing sign.

  Ben stepped off the bus with the pups, and as he was taking a pic of the huge United States and Canadian flags he walked right into a wall of a man.

  He was dressed in a sharp brown uniform with a matching jacket, and he looked down at Ben through dark sunglasses from under the brim of his US Border Agent baseball cap. Ben barely came up to his badge.

  The man folded his thick arms across his chest and eyeballed Ben and the pups. At least Ben assumed he was being eyeballed, he couldn’t tell through the man’s sunglasses.

  The border agent looked up at the flags and in the deepest voice Ben had ever heard said, “Ugly damn flags, aren’t they? Sicily has the best flag, a face between three women’s legs.” He looked down at Ben and said, “Just where do you think you’re going, son?”

  The pups stood perfectly still, and craned to look up at him.

  “Canada, sir,” Ben said.

  The man boomed a laugh that made the other bus passengers turn and stare. “You wouldn’t happen to be Ben Hogan, would you boy?” he said.

  “Yes sir, I am,” Ben said, “Are you Mr. Coleman?”

  “I am not,” the man said as he held out his hand and flashed a huge white smile, “My dad’s mister Coleman. I’m Ollie, and that useless bag of bones over there is Snyder.” As Ben’s hand disappeared into Ollie’s massive mitt the agent nodded to a border collie sniffing around at the far end of the parking lot and yelled, “Get over here and say hello, you lazy Frenchman.”

  Snyder ignored Ollie until he was done with his business. He trotted along a well-worn path in the snow along the fence until it joined the curved sidewalk of the bus turnaround. The black and white dog was about the same size as the pups, and wore a black vest with a large white POLICE patch on the side. He sniffed hello to Spot and Smudge, and to Ben, and then stood at Ollie’s side.

  “Here, let me take that,” Ollie said, flipping Ben’s pack over his shoulder like it was nothing. It looked like a purse on the large man. He said, “Follow me son, let’s grab a quick bite.”

  As the three dogs fell in line behind them Spot eyeballed Snyder’s police patch and the little badge pinned to his chest. Turning to Smudge he said, We gotta get some of those.

  Smudge nodded, and Snyder wagged.

  They walked into the bright lobby of the border crossing building, past the gawking travelers queued in front of a row of manned islands and through a set a side doors to a hallway that led to a small
cafeteria. There were three small round tables with chairs in the middle of the room. At the back were a few vending machines, a small white fridge, and a counter with a coffee maker.

  Ollie dropped his hat, coat, and glasses onto one of the tables as he crossed the room to grab a large cooler from the countertop.

  He said, “Give your Mimi a quick call.”

  Ben talked to Mimi as Ollie set out a lunch of ridiculously thick sandwiches and cut up fruit. He offered a beverage choice and Ben tapped the can of ginger ale.

  Ben munched and chatted, and then handed the phone to Ollie so Mimi could thank him.

  As Ollie told Mimi not to mention it and said goodbye, he filled a few bowls of dry dog food from a plastic container, and filled one with water as all three of the canines ate happily.

  Ben and Ollie talked about his trip so far, and how Ollie had first met Hamish a long time ago when, “That big idiot,” had tried to bring his first team of sled dogs through the border crossing without any clue as to the correct paperwork.

  After a few minutes Ollie nodded to a row of monitors mounted high on the wall as he took a massive bite of sandwich. He swallowed and said to Ben, “We should chow son, the line’s moving pretty good out there.”

  Spot and Smudge stopped eating and came around to stand next to Ben. They looked up at Ollie.

  Ollie gave them a curious look and noticed the lightning bolt and the U embroidered on their vests. He said, “You can finish if you want to, we’re not in that big of a rush.”

  The pups looked at Ben and then went back to chomping in their bowls next to Snyder.

  Ollie gave Ben a long sideways look as he took another enormous bite and chewed slowly. He swallowed, downed his can of soda and then said, “When you see your uncle tell him he still owes me fifty bucks.”

  They packed up and put their coats on, and Ollie put a big paper bag lunch in Ben’s backpack. As Snyder introduced the pups to his bathroom area Ollie checked the paperwork from Ben’s third envelope. The pups came back down the snowy trail single file and Ollie walked them inside to one of the border agent windows. The lines had thinned and a pretty young woman smiled as they approached her island.

  “Once the beautiful Maria here is done with you just pass through those doors and your bus will be waiting in that lot,” Ollie said as he shook Ben’s hand, “You have a good time up there with that foufolle uncle of yours. He’s a pain in the arse sometimes but a better man I’ve never known.”

  Ollie and Snyder paused at the terminal’s side door to watch Ben and the pups head for their bus. Spot and Smudge were trailing behind Ben and walking and wagging in perfect sync. As the bus doors closed behind them Ollie pursed his large lips, nodded to himself, and winked thanks to Maria. He put on his sunglasses and kicked Snyder playfully on the behind, scooting him towards the vehicle inspection lot.

  “Why couldn’t Hamish make you that smart?” Ollie said.

  There were just a trickle of travelers left in the lobby. At an empty island a slight, pock faced customs agent waited for Ollie and the dog to leave the building. He watched them crossing the lot, and as Ben’s bus pulled away he typed into his phone, THEY HAVE LEFT CALAIS.

  Chapter 17

  A few hours later Ben stood on a sidewalk, texting a quick update to the family as the pups went behind some bushes to take care of business. The bus behind him roared away and with it no longer blocking the wind Ben was blasted by icy spray blowing in from the water.

  His phone chirped text responses from the family. He flipped up his coat hood as he read them and crossed the lot of the Saint John ferry terminal in New Brunswick, Canada, with the pups falling in line behind him.

  He was getting pretty good at terminals and noted how they all started to look the same, although this one’s signs were in English and French. He did a quick scan as he took off his jacket and oriented himself to the ticket window, the bathrooms, the vending machines, and the waiting area.

  Ben ducked into the restroom with the pups in tow. Once inside he set his backpack and coat down on a clean spot well away from the dirty slush near the doorway. The pups took up station on either side of them to wait.

  As Ben bellied up to one of the urinals the bathroom door kicked open. A big old codger in well-worn coveralls shuffled in and rubbed the knit skull cap off his head. He stepped up to the next urinal as his boots squeaked noisily on the wet tile floor. He unzipped, let out a long breath, and let a loud flow start.

  Out of the corner of his deeply crow-footed eye he gave Ben a look. Ben tried to stare straight ahead but couldn’t help himself. He looked up at the man’s thick white beard and ruddy cheeks.

  “Salut,” the salty coot said with a slight nod.

  “Hi,” Ben choked out.

  “Comment vas tu?” the man said, turning back towards the white tile wall in front of him.

  “Um, sure,” Ben said, looking back at the pups and shrugging his shoulders.

  The man turned his head to see what Ben was looking at and did a double take, he must not have noticed the pups when he walked in. “Ce que l’enfer?” he said with a start. He turned a little, and added something to the melting slush already on the floor. He said, “Give me crise cardiaque, where’d they come from?”

  “Oh they’re with me,” Ben said as he moved his feet away from the man’s dribble.

  The man looked down and noticed he was missing the urinal. He turned away and said, “Oh my friend, vraiment desole.”

  “S’okay,” Ben said.

  Again the man looked at the two pups who were wearing red service vests and staring back up at him. He took another long look at Ben.

  He said, “Would you be Hamish Walker’s petit-neveu?”

  They chatted and finished washing up in the bathroom as the man introduced himself with a broad smile. He shook Ben’s hand and said, “Emile St. John, this city was named after me.”

  Emile took Ben’s backpack and escorted them to the ticket window. He spoke to the woman behind the counter in a mix of French and English as he handed her the tickets from Ben’s last envelope. When she was done he walked with Ben through the lobby, past windows that looked out over the dock, the large blue and white ferry, and the winter whipped Bay of Fundi beyond.

  Emile handed Ben an orange juice from the vending machine as they settled into empty chairs by the window. He said, “Known your grand-oncle for going on thirty years, son. You look like a miniature version, only nowhere near as hairy, or as ugly. Buy him a biere or six when he passes through sometimes, and then he crashes on my canape when he misses the last ferry. Man’s snores can raise les morts. Met your grand-mere and grand-pere a few times, too. Fine people, them.”

  Ben told him about Papa’s passing and Emile gave his shoulder a squeeze as he read Ben’s face. They chatted for a while longer while Emile fed the dogs pieces of sandwich from Ben’s bag lunch.

  Eventually he stood and said, “Eh bien, back to work for me. Ferry will start to board in a few minutes,” as he pulled his gloves and hat from his back pocket. He shook Ben’s hand before putting them on and said with a smile, “You tell that fou renard I said salut.”

  As Emile walked through the doors that led to the docks he said with a laugh over his shoulder “Careful in those north woods, Ben. Beware the loup-garou.”

  Spot looked that one up on his tablet after they were hunkered down on the ferry, out of sight of anyone. He spun it around so Ben and Smudge could see it, WEREWOLF.

  Chapter 18

  Above the ferry’s four lane wide vehicle hold was a large carpeted lounge with tables, and then rows and rows of connected and comfortably padded seats. Windows ran around the entire outside of the lounge area giving panoramic views of the New Brunswick shore behind them and the seemingly endless water in front of them.

  Ben and the pups camped out in a far corner of the front row where the windows looked over the bow of the ship and the whitecaps of the bay.

  Smudge was sitting on a small fleece
blanket in the seat next to Ben.

  She was facing him, and staring at him.

  Ben wasn’t staring at her. He was facing forward, and had been trying to ignore Smudge for the last five minutes.

  She poked him on the shoulder with her snout again.

  He continued to ignore her.

  She poked him again. And again. And again.

  “I don’t care how bonnie she is,” Ben whispered, without looking away from his tablet.

  Smudge looked casually at the ceiling, then out the window, and eventually over her shoulder to the very pretty young girl seated across the aisle with her family a few rows back. The girl looked at Smudge with big brown eyes and smiled an adorable little smile.

  Smudge turned back to Ben, double checking to make sure no one could see, and signed, She just waved to you.

  “She did not,” Ben whispered. He was hunkered down in the seat with his feet stretched out in front of him on his backpack.

  Just go say hello, Smudge said, We’ve got another two hours on this tub. Who knows what can happen in two hours? We might hit an iceberg and you’ll be sorry you didn’t steal her away to a fogged up car in the cargo hold.

  “Shut it,” Ben said but snuck another quick look over Smudge’s shoulder at the girl, who shot them an equally quick glance as she fixed a strand of her lovely long brown hair that wasn’t really out of place to begin with. Ben returned to pretending to look at his tablet, and she did the same to her phone.

  What’s the big deal? Smudge said, Do I have to show you how this works, again?

  “I hate to break this to you,” Ben said without looking up from his tablet, “But binge watching ‘Sex and the City’ with Mimi does not make you a relationship expert.”

  Smudge let that go and said, Just go over and sniff her bum, head butt her, and then spend the next two hours chatting about your good grades and the upcoming science fair.