I raced out the door to the front yard, Tabitha close behind me.
A ladder was propped up against the house, the feet stuck in the wet concrete. Anger burst through my chest, raging through the rest of my body. Then that emotion was replacedby confusion. There were two kinds of animal prints in the concrete. The pig was right there, but where was this other animal? The prints stopped at the edge of the house.
Voices intruded, and I glanced up. Tabitha’s parents were on the roof, Monty in his old-fashioned nightwear, and Penny in flowy white Victorian nightwear…trying to get Goatee down.
Wait. “Goatee climbed all the way up that ladder?” I yelled up.
“YouknowGoatee can climb ladders,” Monty called down indignantly.
“Mum, Dad! I told you.” Frustration wrenching her voice, Tabitha clutched at my shirtsleeve. “Get down here.”
“Now!” I bellowed up at them. I turned to Tabs, forcing myself to lower my voice because none of this was her fault. “Tabs, could you please take the pig to the backyard and get her cleaned off?”
Tabitha nodded and turned to the pig. “C’mon, Pinky, not your fault, but a pedicure might be in order.” She guided her around the back.
“You two!” I shouted up toward the roof. Monty and Penelope snapped to attention.
“Climb. Down. Now!” I barked out.
Goatee was turning in circles on the roof.
“But what about him?” Penny asked timidly.
I had no idea how I was going to get Goatee down. I might have to fireman-carry him down the ladder myself, but my first mission was to get Monty and Penny well away.
“I’ll get him.” They were still dithering, flapping their arms around. I realized they needed specific instructions. “Penelope, you go down the ladder first.”
While I held the ladder tight, Penny scrambled down, Monty precariously following.
One by one, they jumped down in front of me, glancing guiltily to the side. Good, because I could barely look at them.
“We’ll stay and help hose him down. All hands on deck,” Monty said.
“Noneof your hands onanybloody decks,” I spluttered, incoherent with anger.
Tab had returned. “Mum, Dad, get inside and wait for us in the library.” Her parents made as if to climb through the library windows. “Through the proper entrance.”
Without arguing, they slunk off.
I threw my head back.Argh.
“That’s it,” Tabs said, steaming with anger. “They’ve ignored my warnings about the animals, and all your hard work on the path is ruined.”
Her parents were either totally oblivious or very selfish, which was a terrible sign for how the next two weeks would go. Being polite and firm with them over the past three months hadn’t worked, so I’d use my harshest rugby captain voice, and they were going to shape up.
“Why don’t you hold the ladder while I climb up and get Goatee?” she asked.
“No, you hold the ladder. I might have to fireman-carry him down.”
She grasped it tightly while I climbed to the top. Somehow finding my footing on the roof, I grabbed the goat, shuffled back to the edge, transferred him under one arm, and climbed down very carefully, one hand sliding down the ladder, the other arm wrapped tightly around his very wriggly body.
“Oh, thank God you made it down, Tim.” Tabs wiped her trembling hand over her forehead. “I would never have forgiven myself if you’d fallen.”
Her visible concern touched me, and I didn’t want to add more to her stress. “I had it under control, don’t worry.”
“C’mon, let’s hose him down,” she said.
At the back, I held Goatee as she hosed the wet concrete from his hooves, reassuring him with whispers in his ear. I listened to her soothing murmurs, watched the soft slide of her hand over his fur. Lucky bastard.
