The Crossroads Read Online Free PDF Page B

sheriff.
    â€œNo way to know for certain. All we know is that it was an oak. Plenty of those on both sides of the road.”
    â€œOkay. We’ll trim whatever you think needs trimming.”
    â€œGive me a call,” said the younger Mandica, “and we’ll set up an inspection.”
    â€œIt won’t come down,” the old man suddenly said.
    His son laughed. “What, Pop?”
    â€œThe tree. No man nor ax can pierce its bark.”
    â€œOh-kay, Pop. Don’t worry, folks. No matter what
he
says, six of my guys with chain saws can handle any tree you got. Come on, Pop. Let’s go home and have a nice nap.”
    The two Mandicas disappeared into the trees edging the yard.
    Zack remembered the tree near the museum in New York City. It was an oak, too. He wondered if the oak trees killing people up here were that tree’s country cousins.
    â€œWe should go inside,” Zack’s father announced.
    â€œGood to have you back in town, George,” said Sheriff Hargrove.
    â€œThanks, Ben. Good to be home.”
    Hargrove waved goodbye and followed the Mandicas.
    Zack’s father went back to the car to grab the groceries.
    Zack stared up at the canopy of tangled branches overhead.
    â€œWoo-woo! Killer trees,” said Judy in a funny, spooky voice. “Hey, Zack—do you think they’re related to the killer bees?”
    She was trying to make a joke.
    Zack wasn’t laughing.

The scruffy little dog heard the back door open and scampered into the kitchen.
    â€œWho’s this?” Zack asked when the dog sat down at his feet and raised a paw.
    â€œZack,” said his dad, “meet Zipper!”
    â€œUh, hello,” Zack said as he bent down to shake hands with Zipper.
    Judy rubbed behind the dog’s ears. Zipper rolled over on the floor to let her know he really needed his belly scratched right now, not his ears.
    â€œDoes he belong to a neighbor?” asked Zack.
    â€œNope,” said his father. “He’s your new dog!”
    Zipper started yapping.
    â€œSurprise!” said Judy.
    â€œWe figured you’d want a dog!” said his father.
    â€œNo, I don’t.”
    â€œSure you do!” his father insisted. “Out here in the country, every boy has a dog. In fact, I think it’s a Connecticut state law. And just so you wouldn’t get arrested, Dr. Freed, my old vet up here, let us have this great Jack Russell. He was the runt of the litter, so nobody wanted to adopt him. I asked Dr. Freed to drop him off this morning.”
    â€œWell, I think he’s perfect,” said Judy.
    Zipper stood up on his hind legs.
    â€œDid he do that on purpose?” Zack wondered out loud.
    â€œI dunno,” said Judy. “Let’s see if he’ll do it again. Up, Zipper! Up!”
    The dog stood up again. This time, he twirled.
    â€œYou know what?” said Zack. “I think we should probably keep him. Especially if it’s a state law and all.”
    Â 
    About ten seconds after they’d gone into the house and done the whole welcome-to-Connecticut-here’s-yournew-dog deal, Zack’s father’s high-tech DingleBerry (that was what Zack called it) cell phone started beeping on his belt, so he disappeared into the room already set up by the moving company to be his home office—the one with the bookshelves crammed with law books.
    Judy and Zack went into the kitchen, where she attempted to toast bread for sandwiches. After she burned the first four slices and set off the smoke detector, Zack said he really didn’t need toast for his sandwich; plain bread would be fine. When the smoke cleared, they moved into the breakfast nook.
    Zipper followed after them, carrying what was, apparently, his favorite ball: a chewed-up spongy thing soaked with saliva. The dog curled up underneath Zack’s stool to feast on foam rubber while the humans settled in with their