Ark - Softcover

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Elisabeth Sharp McKetta is the author of thirteen books including She Never Told Me About the Ocean and Awake with Asashoryu, both published by Paul Dry Books, and Edit Your Life, published by Penguin Random House. She and her family used to live in a backyard tiny house in Boise, Idaho, like Arden and Martin; now they live in an ordinary house.

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“Ahouse becomes a home”

Nearlyall of my friends agreed that moving houses when you’re a kid is pretty muchthe end of the world. Except for my best friend, Farah.

Farahsaid I would survive it. She said a house becomes a home when you have a dog init, and that as long as we still had a dog, it would all be okay. Farah alwayssays this kind of thing, and because I have known her for half my life, I amused to it.

Wefirst met in the kitchen of my old house at a party for all the first-gradefamilies to meet before school. The other kids looked nervous and clung totheir mothers’ hands, but not Farah. She walked into our house with a smile—infact, she led her family in: her bearlike, shy-looking father, her tiny seriousmother, who was holding her baby brother, who is Martin’s age. She was thehappiest person I had ever seen, and that was why I wanted to be her friend.

Sheloved that we had two dogs, and she and I spent the whole party on the floorwith them. I never even showed her my room. When it was time to go, her mothersaid, “Oh Farah,” when she saw the yellow dog-hair all over her dress andsocks.

Mymother said: “Can we organize a date to get these girls together again?”

AndFarah and I knew our fate was sealed. We would be best friends forever, girlswho love animals, girls who spend parties on the floor petting dogs.

Sincethen, Farah has been my everything-friend.

Whatwas happening around us never mattered, for we had each other. She never evergot upset. Farah was the friend I told when Woody our yellow lab died and Imissed school because I was crying too hard. She came over after school and wehugged Tulip, our dog who was still alive, and she told me the story of whenher aunt died and somehow hearing that made me feel better, not worse.

Butthere were three things Farah could not get me to feel better about: threelosses that punched holes in my life the February I turned eleven.

“Whatabout Tulip?”

Whenmy parents told us we would be moving, and moving to a house so very small, Isaid, “What about Tulip? How will she fit? A dog can’t live in so little space.We can’t even fit her dog bed! I guess that means she can sleep with me…?”

Momand Dad looked at each other in that awful secret suspicious way that means badnews. Then Dad said, “Aunt Les has agreed to share her with us.”

“WHAT!”I yelled.

“We’renot a yelling family,” Mom reminded me.

“What?”I said more quietly.

“Weare gone all day,” Dad started in. “You and Martin at school, Mom and me atwork, and in the winter, she’ll be cold in the yard. So Tulip will live with usin the warm half of the year and with Les in the winter. But we promise thatall summer when you’re home from school, she’ll be with us.”

“AndAunt Les comes to visit, like, every day!” Martin said. Martin thinks everyidea is fine, and this is why we all used to call him Buddha Baby. I gave him aglare—small enough that my parents didn’t notice, but big enough to quiet his annoyingoptimism.

Ifelt like it was a bad joke. I was waiting for someone to say, “April Fool!”But it was February. I felt like a February fool. I could not speak, I was justlistening while they took apart my life.

“She’llbe our part-time dog,” my mother said. “Itwon’t be the same, but…”

AndI interrupted: “That is not the same. That is so, so, so not the same. Nowexcuse me. I have a call to make.”