Chapter 6 – Kiki's big surprise

KIKI WOKE to a strange noise.  It wasn’t the sound of the paperboy or the song of early rising birds.  It was a quiet, safe little noise.  Half asleep, she yawned, noting her back hurt.  ”Oh,” she exclaimed, remembering where she was and why.  Her eyes flew open and she smiled with joy.  The noise was coming from the little puppy.  It was lying next to her cheek, face in its paws. It was snoring, and snoring was good!  Just sleeping not dying!
    She freed herself from her covers as quietly as she could and sat up.  As much as she didn’t want to disturb the puppy she couldn’t resist reaching out and gently stroking its back.  The snoring stopped. 
    Jiji had more trouble than Kiki remembering where she was.  Of course she did—she’d never been in Kiki’s living room.  Remembering only bad things, scary and dangerous things, she opened her eyes just a little bit, to tiny secret slits.  She looked around cautiously.  Indoors.  She liked that—it was warm and felt safe.  But she wasn’t alone.
    Kiki leaned down—face-to-face—and whispered, “Are you awake?” She felt the puppy relax under her touch.
”Didn’t you talk yesterday?” She thought she remembered the dog speaking but now she wasn’t sure.  It was impossible really.
Jiji opened her eyes in wide surprise and stared at Kiki, No one—no dog, no human, had ever understood her.  It was exciting.
    ”That’s OK,” Kiki said, patting the puppy on the head.  Jiji rolled on her back and Kiki took the hint and scratched her on the stomach.  ”I don’t care if you can talk.  It was probably just a dream.”
    Jiji wriggled under the girl’s attentions and groaned, “A little lower, please.”
Kiki shrieked, surely loud enough to wake her father, “I knew it, I knew you could talk!”
    Jiji smiled in that funny, wrinkly way some dogs do.  She would have cried if she could.  At last, someone could hear her.  She wasn’t all alone anymore.  ”Only you, only you,” she whispered, and began to explain the best she could.  ”My name is Jiji and I...”
    At a little past 7 a.m., Kiki’s father stood in the doorway outside the living room listening to his daughter talk to the puppy.  It was an unusual conversation, if you could call it that.  She spoke, the puppy barked, she spoke, the puppy barked.  A little weird he thought, but she sounded happy.  The dog must have recovered.  He shook his head, knowing he was going to let her keep it. 
    ”You’d better hustle it up,” he warned, “You’ve got school today.”
School!  What was she going to do? ”I can’t leave her all alone.” Kiki begged.
Her father made a quick trip to the kitchen, returning with the morning newspaper.         ”Sure you can. Make a little pen in the corner of your room and cover the floor with newspaper.”
    Kiki shook her head but took the paper from her dad.  ”I don’t know...”
    ”She’ll be fine. After she gets a little older you can get rid of the pen and move the papers out on the balcony.”
    ”Sounds cool to me,” Jiji said.  ”Don’t forget food and water.” The puppy licked her lips, “Lots and lots of food.”
    Kiki smiled.  ”Well if it’s OK with you, it’s OK with me.”
    Her dad laughed, “So the dog can talk, huh?”
    Kiki was startled.  He could hear the puppy, too?  A quick look at his face told her the opposite.  He was just teasing.  She made a quick and wise decision—no one must ever know.  ”Dogs can’t talk, everybody knows that.” She winked at Jiji and smiled.