The Watcher Read Online Free PDF Page B

without any expression. What was she thinking? Did she want the puppy gone? After all, he was in her kitchen, and she might consider him a pest. Once more I pulled him back under the table and set him on the blanket. “Now listen. You have to stay here.” I started to leave and he got up. “No, lie down,” I insisted.
    Adrie called from the hall. “Your dog may understand only German.”
    â€œAha!” Frieda exclaimed. “Platz!”
    This time the puppy folded his legs and lay down, but he watched me dejectedly as I left the room and closed the door.

    Late in the night I was roused by a howling—a deep sad cry. I sat up in bed, wondering for a moment where I was. The whining turned into a sharp bark, and I realized it was the puppy downstairs in the kitchen. If the dog woke up Adrie, she would be furious.
    Again the pup howled, louder this time. I climbed out of bed and made my way in the dark to the hall andstairwell. I felt my way along with my hands, not wanting to turn on the lights.
    Yelp! Arooo! Yelp! Arooo! The puppy cried then moaned so sadly.
    Nothing shone through the draped windows, and not a light was on anywhere. I crept slowly through the pitch black, and down the winding stairway to the first floor, and then headed for the kitchen.
    Now the sounds had stopped. I waited. Silence. Should I go back to bed? What if he began to bark again?
    As I entered the dining room, I noticed a light gleaming from under the door. Quietly, I treaded toward the kitchen and opened the swinging door. No one was there—and the dog was gone.
    Another light gleamed from the wing where Frieda slept. Could the puppy have gone into Frieda’s room? I tiptoed into the tiled hallway. A door was partly open, and a soft light came from within.
    I knocked gently on the door. “Frieda?”
    To my surprise, Frieda opened the door and laughed softly. Then with her finger to her lips, she pointed to her bed.
    Curled up smack in the center of a soft quilt, his head between his paws and his eyes closed, the puppy snored softly.
    I put out my hands to Frieda. “Shall I take him?” I asked, hoping she understood.
    She obviously did understand. She shook her head and once again put her hand to her lips. “Nein,” she said. Andwith a smile, she shoved me gently out the door. “Gute Nacht.”
    My suspicions of Frieda disappeared in an instant. “Good night and danke . Thank you,” was all that I could say.

10
At the Park
    F rieda served breakfast on the beautiful patio the next morning. The summer air was drenched with the scent of flowers. It was a sunny beautiful day, and once again the war seemed faraway.
    Frieda brought the newspaper and coffee on a tray. My puppy came running and leaping when he saw me. He sat at my feet, his tail wagging, and his eyes were on my face, watching my every move.
    â€œI should take the dog out,” I said, remembering my promise.
    â€œFrieda said she let him out in the fenced-in yard.” Adrie unfolded the morning paper. “Wendy, this isn’t Frieda’s job. It’s yours.”
    â€œI know, but she beat me to it.”
    Frieda came out again with a tray of sausage, cheese, toast, and more coffee, and I looked at her anxiously. Hadshe told Adrie that the dog had slept in her room, in her bed? I hoped not. However, Frieda smiled and winked at me, indicating everything was fine.
    Tonight I will have to do something if he starts barking, I decided. Maybe I’ll sneak him up to my room. I can’t expect Frieda to take care of him again.
    â€œI have to decide on a name for my dog,” I said to Adrie. “But I don’t know what to call him.”
    â€œMax is a good name for a dog,” Adrie suggested. “It’s masculine and strong. I like it.”
    â€œHmm.” I wanted something less common than Max. I stood up and gazed out over the patio. “Maybe I’ll take him for a walk in the