Alan MacDonald - Ask Oscar

All that day at school, Sam’s thoughts kept returning to Oscar. He worried that he might be scared of the dark. What if he started barking or whining and his dad went up to investigate? (His mum worked part time as a physio at the hospital so she wasn’t at home on Mondays). Sam was dying to tell someone, so eventually he let his best friend, Louie, in on the secret half way through maths.

‘A DOG?’ cried Louie.

‘Shh! Keep your voice down!’ whispered Sam. ‘It’s a secret!’ He glanced up. Miss Bramble was busy helping someone with their work.

‘But where did you get him?’ asked Louie.

Sam briefly explained how Oscar had arrived on the bus.

‘That’s fantastic!’ enthused Louie. ‘We could take him for walks – we could go to the beach!’

‘If he stays,’ said Sam. ‘My parents don’t even know about him yet. I had to hide him in my cupboard.’

Louie’s eyebrows shot up. ‘You’ve left him in a cupboard?’

‘It’s quite a big one and he’s got biscuits,’ explained Sam. ‘But if my parents find him they’ll go mad.’

‘You’re the one that’s mad,’ said Louie.

But they didn’t get any further because Miss Bramble told them off for talking instead of getting on with their work.

As soon as the bell went, Sam grabbed his bag and ran all the way home. He’d been plagued by worries all day. What if Dad had discovered Oscar and thrown him out? They hadn’t even had the chance to get to know each other!

Arriving home, Sam dumped his bag and ran upstairs. He found his Dad hoovering the landing.

‘Ah, Sam, perfect timing,’ he said, switching the machine off. ‘I was just about to do your room.’

His room? Sam looked aghast.

‘You can’t!’ he said. ‘I mean, my pyjamas are all over the floor. I haven’t tidied up!’

‘Well you can tidy it now,’ said Dad. ‘But get a move on, I haven’t got all day.’

Sam dashed into his bedroom and closed the door. He was surprised to see the cupboard door was wide open. Somehow Oscar had managed to get out because he was curled on the bed with a book open. (It was a picture book about pirates and for a moment Sam imagined he was reading it). In the cupboard were a scattering of biscuit crumbs and a damp patch on the carpet that might have been water but probably wasn’t. Oscar yawned, rolled onto his side and stretched out lazily.

Sam had to think fast. He could put Oscar back in the cupboard but what if his Dad tried to tidy something away when he was hoovering the room? The only other solution was to smuggle Oscar out of the house. But how could he get past his dad on the landing? Suddenly he saw a possible way out – the laundry basket! Sam reckoned it was probably just big enough to hold Oscar if he made himself small.

A few moments later Sam emerged from his room, dragging the laundry basket with an effort. Oscar was a lot heavier than he’d expected and he was hidden under a pile of dirty T-shirts, socks and pants.

‘Finally!’ said Dad. ‘What’s that?’

‘My dirty washing,’ said Sam. ‘I thought I’d take it down to the washing machine for er . . . washing.’

‘Right,’ said Dad, sounding puzzled. Generally Sam regarded washing and ironing as something that happened as if by magic.

Sam staggered forward and Dad stepped aside to let him past. He could feel his dad’s eyes on him as he reached the stairs. The laundry basket was so heavy he was sweating and could hardly get it off the floor. He wished Oscar had been a pug dog or something smaller.

‘What on earth have you got in there?’ asked Dad.

‘Just my clothes and stuff,’ said Sam, breathing hard. If he could just make it downstairs then they’d be safe. He heaved the basket after him, setting it down on the next step with a thump. A loud grunt came from inside.

‘What was that?’ asked Dad.

‘What?’

‘That noise!’

‘It was me,’ said Sam. He coughed loudly but Dad wasn’t buying it.

‘Let me see the basket,’ he demanded.

Sam turned round slowly in time to see his dad’s eyes grow wide with astonishment. Looking down, Sam saw a pair of blue pants rising up out of the basket. Underneath was a whiskery face and a wet black nose. Oscar sneezed and the pants fell off.

Unluckily at that very moment the front door slammed and Mum came in.

‘A DOG!’ she screamed.

‘Oh yes, so it is,’ said Sam, sounding surprised.

‘But where . . . how on earth did it get here?’ asked Mum.

‘On the bus I think,’ replied Sam, truthfully.

Mum looked up at Dad. ‘Did you know about this?’

‘ME?’ protested Dad. ‘It’s nothing to do with me!’

Mum folded her arms. ‘Right, get down here, Sam and bring the dog,’ she said. ‘We need to have a serious talk.’

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