Page 39 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

Jet held up both fingerless-gloved hands and nodded, red bangs flopping into his eyes. “Fine. But be back in time for our cooking lesson with Kreed.”

“He’s really doing that?”

“He’s really doing that. It’s for all our good. Trust me. This is something you need to know if we’re going to survive. I’m tired of grilled cheeses and cans of tomato soup.”

“I love grilled Jesus!” Shelly piped from somewhere behind him, making Steven snort.

“I know you do, Shells.” He grimaced at Steven. “This place is like an echo chamber.”

“What’s an echo chamber?” Shelly asked. “Like you can grow new books out of these old ones?”

Jet sighed. “E-cho, not ee-cho,” he said, turning away from Myles towards his sister. “How’s that picture coming along?”

“How do you draw white hair?” she asked, and Myles let them be, and brought his attention back to Steven.

“She is a smart cookie.” Steven had attached MJ’s lead to his collar and he held it out to Myles now. “Take your time. They’re fine.”

Myles nodded. “Okay. Thanks.”

Once outside, Myles had to admit to himself that the fresh air, along with the knowledge the kids were fine without him for a few minutes, allowed some of the tension to ease from his muscles. His bad hip stopped clenching, and he could use the cane for balance rather than support. He even managed to enjoy the quiet calm of small-town energy.

There was nothing like Griffon’s Elbow’s main street in Calgary. Not that Myles had ever seen, anyway. Here, most of the century-old houses had been converted to businesses, at least on the ground floor, and most of those buildings along the street that weren’t houses were still old, though well cared for.

The town had what seemed to him more than its share of second-hand shops with clever names like Finder’s Keepers and New To You. Each shop had a bit of everything, while specializing in one thing unique to it that the others didn’t carry so much of. New to You had a lot of clothes, from what he could see from the street, and Finder’s Keepers leaned more towards dishes. Another shop boasted some decent furniture, while yet another had an impressive assortment of art and picture frames.

Of course MJ found the pet food store almost immediately. Housed in a limestone building reminiscent of miniature Parliament buildings, complete with a steep copper roof turned green by exposure, the shop had everything a pet owner could need. It also had about a million and one things imperative to his dog’s existence, if MJ’s yapping and tugging at the leash was anything to go by.

“Let’s go in here,” Myles suggested, like it was entirely his idea. The door practically opened itself to let MJ prance inside, head up, ears forwards.

They exited with Myles’s pockets filled with treats, a new studded collar and a pleather coat Myles felt sure Jet would approve of, and a neon pink stuffed butterfly MJ carried proudly between his tiny stubborn jaws. Jet would probably not appreciate the butterfly with the bad-ass new outerwear, but Myles liked the contrast.

Back at the bookshop, Jet stood leafing through the albums while Shelly sat on Steven’s lap explaining her picture to him. Myles tried not to cringe as she described a scene in what appeared to be a tangle of coloured lines on the page.

Steven didn’t seem perturbed by the weirdness of it, so Myles said nothing.

At the sound of the bell, Jet turned to glance at them but stopped to stare at MJ.

“What is he wearing?”

“Biker jacket,” Myles said.

“He’s a dog. Does he need clothes?”

“He needed this.” Myles picked him up, butterfly and all, to show off his new threads.

“He looks—is that a studded collar?”

“It is.”

“How punk are you?” he asked the dog, scratching behind his ears.

MJ wiggled and licked at Jet’s fingers, dropping the butterfly in his enthusiasm, then squirming to get down to it.

“I’m going to draw him!” Shelly declared, and climbed off Steven’s lap, headed for her corner where her crayons and papers were spread over the hardwood.

“Shells, we have to go,” Jet said, handing Myles his chosen record and going after her. “Uncle Myles and I have a cooking lesson at the B and B.”

“I wanna stay!” She stomped a foot and crossed her arms over her chest.