Max Page 2

  “You enlisted? You’re going to be a Marine? Just like that?” Justin wasn’t surprised that Kyle wanted to do it—he’d known all his life that his brother planned to follow in their dad’s footsteps. He just hadn’t realized it was happening so soon. Justin’s heart sank, and whatever happy feeling he’d just had was replaced by a sharp pang in his chest. Kyle was leaving?

  Kyle reached over and tousled Justin’s hair. “Just like that, man. Just like that. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to missing me.”

  Justin punched him on the shoulder. “I won’t miss you at all, dude.”

  He tried to look at his big brother, but his throat felt tight, and he had to look away.

  Justin held open the front door for his parents. His father held his mom tightly around her waist—almost as though he was keeping her upright—as they walked toward the waiting limousine. The driver stood by the open door, his hands clasped in front of him and his eyes cast downward. He looked miserable, as if he thought he was going to catch something from Justin and his family.

  Justin’s mom’s wavy black hair was pushed back from her face. Her eyes were red and swollen, and she clutched a packet of tissues. His dad’s face was a frozen mask. He looked so out of place in his new suit, especially with his sunburned neck peeking out above the collar. His jaw was set, his mouth pinched closed, his eyes glassy and unreadable. Like a soldier. He’d gotten up early to buzz his hair into a precise Marine cut.

  The three of them slid into the back of the air-conditioned car. The driver shut the door, and the silence closed in around them. Justin’s mom looked at him as if she were just realizing he was there.

  “You look very handsome, honey,” she said. “In your suit.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  No one spoke for the rest of the ten-minute drive to the church. The fabric of the white shirt rubbed against Justin’s neck. He swatted at it, but it just kept scratching him. His feet felt cramped in the stiff shoes. It was going to be a rough day, that much was clear. It made him wonder how Kyle had ever gotten used to wearing his uniform all the time—but Kyle wasn’t a complainer. Plus, Justin knew that his brother loved his “suit of armor,” as he called his full combat gear. Even his military dog, Max, wore an armored vest. That uniform had made everyone so proud of Kyle . . . Now he was going to be buried in it.

  “Hello, handsome,” his mom said to the laptop screen. She leaned in to the computer, as if it would actually bring her closer to her son.

  “Hey, Ma.” Kyle sat in a tent, wearing his fatigues. He looked tired.

  “You getting enough rest, hon?” she asked.

  “Mom, I’m in the Marines. That’s not exactly our first priority.” Kyle laughed.

  “Well, I’m in the Momarines, and it’s always my first priority,” she shot back with a smile. “Tell your captain I said so.”

  “I’ll get right on that.”

  Justin stomped through the kitchen, past his mom sitting at the round kitchen table with her laptop. He opened the fridge and rummaged around.

  “Justin, say hi to your brother,” his mom called out.

  “Hi to your brother,” Justin mumbled into the deli drawer.

  “So he can hear you,” she said. She swung the computer around toward Justin. Kyle’s face filled the video-chat screen.

  Justin waved, a big pretend smile plastered on his face. Then he stuck his face back into the fridge, looking for a snack.

  She rolled her eyes at Kyle, who shook his head and grinned. “It’s okay, Mom. He’s just being fourteen.”

  A loud barking made them all jump.

  “You want to say hi, too, Max?” Kyle asked. “Come here, boy.”

  Suddenly, a furry black snout and a loud snuffling sound filled the screen. Kyle and their mom burst out laughing. Justin turned around to see what was happening and couldn’t help but crack a smile. Even Justin couldn’t deny that the dog was pretty cute. Even though Justin had only met Max through video chat, he could tell that Max could be a goofball when he wasn’t off saving lives. Maybe Kyle and his dog were more alike than Justin had first thought.

  Justin’s dad limped into the kitchen carrying a large toolbox. He waved at the wet nose and whiskers on-screen.

  “Hey, son. Looks like you’re letting your beard grow in, huh?”

  “Very funny, Dad,” Kyle said from somewhere behind the dog. “Max, tell Dad he’s hilarious, would you?”

  Max barked.

  “Max, I heard you dug up a pretty good cache of weapons there, huh?” their dad said, leaning into the camera. “And you let Kyle lend a hand?”

  Kyle scratched Max behind the ears. They pressed their heads together so they could both see the screen. “He did all the work,” Kyle said. “Ain’t that right, boy?”

  “Can he really see us right now?” their mom asked.

  “We’re just a sea of pixels to a dog’s eyes, Pamela,” their dad said. “Don’t mess with your mother like that, Kyle.”

  “Sir, yes, sir.” Kyle saluted his dad.

  “Max, teach that Marine how to give a proper salute, would you, boy?” their dad teased.

  Kyle lifted up one of Max’s front paws and held it up to the dog’s brow.

  “Well,” their mom interrupted the banter, “I think you and Max deserve some kind of medal. You’re both very brave.”

  “Oh, Ma, we’re just doing our jobs.”

  “Yeah,” Justin said, closing the fridge a little too firmly. “Kyle’s so awesome even his frickin’ dog is a hero.”

  The room went still.

  “Justin,” his dad snapped. “Show some respect.”

  “And while you’re at it,” his mom added, “don’t you cuss in this house.”

  Justin slapped a slice of bread down on a plate. “I didn’t cuss.”

  “Close enough,” his mom said.

  “Do I hear Justin swearing?” A new voice cut through the tension. Kyle looked up and slid to the side as a different face appeared on the screen. Justin recognized the familiar smirk and dirty-blond hair. It was Tyler Harne, his brother’s best friend since forever. They had enlisted together, trained together, and now were stationed together. Another example of Kyle’s blessed life. How many guys got shipped out across the globe and still got to be with their oldest buddy?

  “Tyler!” his mom said. “Nice to see you.”

  “Hi, Mrs. W. Nice to see you, too. I got your boy covered here. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Is that your pot roast I smell? That right there is the pride of Lufkin,” Tyler said.

  “Oh, I’m sure you’re getting delicious pot roast in Afghanistan, Tyler,” Justin’s dad called out.

  “If you call dehydrated meat delicious, sir, then yes, we are,” Tyler replied.

  “Are you boys staying out of trouble?” Justin’s mom asked.

  “We’re making trouble, Mrs. W.,” Tyler said. “For the bad guys, that is.”

  “Hooooorah!” Justin sneered. He had never been much of a Tyler fan. Tyler had pretty much spent Justin’s entire childhood being extra nice to him in front of Justin’s parents, and nasty to him when adults weren’t around.

  “Can it, Justin,” his dad said in an icy tone.

  Kyle and Tyler looked up as a deep voice said something unintelligible offscreen. They both stood up quickly.

  “We got to go, guys,” Kyle said. “Love you, Mom.”

  “Love you, hon.” She kissed her fingertips, then placed them gently against the screen. “Justin, say good-bye to your brother.”

  Justin ignored her.

  “Justin!” she snapped.

  Justin barely had time to look up and see his brother’s face before the computer went black.

  THREE

  HIS MOTHER’S SOBS CARRIED UP AND OVER THE SINGING of
the church choir. Justin could feel the whole pew shake as she cried. Her sadness was overwhelming, but Justin didn’t feel sad. He didn’t feel much of anything.

  Behind Justin and his parents, the pews were packed with friends and family that had known Kyle his entire life. Even his teachers and ex-girlfriends had come to pay their respects. Justin knew Kyle would find it hilarious to see all these people in one place—if it wasn’t because it was his funeral, of course.

  Justin tried to look anywhere but straight ahead at his brother’s coffin. He gazed up at the arched ceiling for a minute, then down at the floor. He looked out the tall windows and counted the colors in the stained glass. He looked at the pastor’s expression of concern. He wondered how long it had taken the man to perfect his funeral face. Justin watched the mouths of the singers, forming perfect Os. But his eyes were always led back to the casket in front of him.

  The casket was dark wood, with gleaming handles and an American flag draped over the top. Next to it was a large photograph of a smiling Kyle posing in his uniform. Justin hated seeing the happy look on his brother’s face—it only reminded him that he would never hear Kyle’s laugh or see his big grin ever again.

  Justin had barely said good-bye to Kyle when he was getting ready to ship out. They had played some hoops in the driveway that morning. Kyle’s bags were packed, and his friends were going to drive him to the airport that afternoon. Kyle had told his parents they weren’t allowed to take him—they all knew it would upset their mom too much.

  Justin shifted in his seat. The wooden bench was uncomfortable—as were his shirt, shoes, and jacket. Every part of him felt unsettled and weird, inside and out. It was almost like he couldn’t escape the ill-fitting clothes or the queasy feeling in his gut—or the ache that had settled in his chest since the day the two Marines had shown up at his front door.

  If Justin was being honest with himself, he had been angry at Kyle the day he had shipped out. He didn’t understand why his older brother had to leave their family—had to leave him. With Kyle gone, there would be no one else for their dad to focus on. Just Justin—who could never do anything right. Justin, who wanted to play video games all day. Justin, who didn’t want to join the Marines.

  And now that Kyle was never coming back, their dad would only start paying more attention to Justin, and their mom would only be more worried about him all the time.

  The choir continued their hymn. The notes echoed up to the high ceiling, and Justin let the music fill his mind and clear away all his thoughts.

  Suddenly, the wide double doors of the church flew open with a bang, interrupting the song. The old wooden seats creaked loudly as everyone in the room spun around to look at the late arrivals. Justin strained his neck to try and see the group of men silhouetted against the doorway. There were four of them, and they were all in military dress uniforms. One of the soldiers held a leash, at the end of which was a very familiar-looking black and tan dog. Though he’d never actually met the animal, Justin instantly recognized his long black snout and oversized, pointy black ears from the many video chats with his brother.

  It was Max. He was bigger and slinkier than he appeared on camera, lean, but with muscles rippling under his fur. What was he doing here? Why wasn’t he still in Afghanistan and teamed up with a new soldier?

  Max stood in the doorway and sniffed the air. His head bobbed up and down as he strained against his collar. He took a few steps inside and sniffed at the ground. Justin thought he looked . . . nervous? Or maybe just confused? Suddenly, Max froze, his body tensed up, and his eyes grew round. Justin could tell he had found a familiar scent. Max bolted forward, but the man holding his leash tightened his grip and yanked back. He said a command to Max that Justin couldn’t quite hear. Max just kept struggling against his leash, his two front paws coming off the ground.

  One of the men in uniform walked up the aisle to Justin and his parents.

  “I’m sorry we’re late, Mr. and Mrs. Wincott,” he said, leaning over the pew. “We had a little tussle with Max here.”

  Justin couldn’t believe it, but his mom actually smiled. There was a flash of happiness in her red-rimmed eyes. She looked at Max, then back up at the man.

  “It’s quite all right,” she said.

  “I’m Sergeant Reyes,” the man went on. He had buzzed black hair and smiling eyes. “I trained your son and Max. After Kyle . . . after the incident, they sent Max back to us for an evaluation. He’s been having a hard time since he got back. We thought, since we’re located nearby . . . it might be a good thing for Max to be here today.”

  “You thought right,” Justin’s mom replied. “Kyle would have wanted it this way, I’m sure.”

  Across the room, Max whimpered and perked up his ears, as if he had heard Kyle’s name. Sergeant Reyes nodded at the man holding Max’s leash—or trying to hold Max’s leash—mostly the man was getting dragged around by Max, who was using all of his well-trained brute strength to pull forward. Justin winced at the sight of the dog’s desperate eyes and the sound of his whimpering. Max panted and strained to breathe as the soldier struggled to restrain him. But Max was stronger and more determined—the dog yanked so hard, Justin was actually worried for the man’s arm. With a jolt, the leash flew out of his hand.

  Max shot forward and crossed the room at lightning speed, stopping in front of Kyle’s casket. He raised himself up on his hind legs and rested his front paws on top of the wood. He sniffed at the shiny handles, the flowers, and the flag.

  Everyone in the church held their breath and watched. Finally, Max touched his nose to the flag atop Kyle’s coffin and let out a mournful howl. Then—as if he’d confirmed something for himself—Max dropped onto the floor, spun in a circle, curled up into a ball, and lay down at the foot of the casket.

  The crowd gasped, then loud sobs rang out across the room. Justin’s mom gripped his dad’s hand tightly and began to weep again. Justin saw his dad’s lower lip begin to quiver. His dad nodded quickly at the pastor, who gestured to the choir. The first notes of a new hymn floated out over the crowd as Max howled along.

  AS THE CEREMONY CAME TO AN END, JUSTIN DREADED the next step. They had to go to the cemetery to bury Kyle. But first, Sergeant Reyes and his men had to get Max away from the coffin, which was basically impossible. Like Justin, Max didn’t want to go.

  Reyes used a hand signal and a verbal command, but Max ignored him. Then the handler pulled hard on Max’s leash, and the dog went berserk. Everyone jumped as Max let out a series of harsh barks and howls. Justin didn’t remember Max ever acting this crazy—Kyle always said he was the perfect dog. Max strained against his leash, snarling and thrashing his head around. He scratched at the floor.

  It was terrible to watch. Justin had never seen an animal so upset before. In a way, though, Max was just doing what Justin wished he could do—scream and yell and let everyone know how pissed off he was at this whole stupid situation.

  Sergeant Reyes turned to Justin’s parents with a sheepish look on his face.

  “I’m sorry,” the sergeant said. “Max really was trained better than this.”

  “It’s okay,” Justin’s mom said softly. “I understand how he feels.”

  The handler slowly managed to steer Max away from the casket, even as the dog continued to growl and bark. But just as they neared the front pew, where Justin and his parents stood watching, Max suddenly froze and locked his legs. He raised his black muzzle into the air and twitched his nose. He’d caught the scent of something, and it instantly calmed him down. Max sniffed at the air and took a step toward Justin’s mom and dad. Sergeant Reyes instantly jumped in front of Max, shielding them from the unpredictable dog.

  “It’s okay,” Justin’s mom said. “I think he smells something—I think he recognizes us.”

  Reyes gave her a skeptical look, but moved slightly to the side, allowing Max to take another step forward. He snif
fed at her legs, then at Justin’s dad. Everyone in the church watched anxiously. Finally, Max nosed his way between the Wincotts and sat down right at Justin’s feet. Nervously, Justin took a big step backward, putting a safe distance between him and Max. He could feel the eyes of everyone directed straight at him. Even the pastor watched from the altar.

  “And who might you be, son?” Reyes asked.

  “This is Kyle’s brother,” Justin’s mom replied. “Justin.”

  Justin’s dad looked ready to pounce on the dog if it tried to hurt his wife or son. Max leaned forward and took a curious sniff at Justin. His long tail gave the slightest hint of a wag. Justin gulped and felt his hands get a bit sweaty. He’d never been a dog person like Kyle. The last time he’d been anywhere near a dog was with the twenty Chihuahuas that lived at Chuy’s house, and those tiny furballs didn’t count.

  “Max seems to have figured out who you are,” Reyes said to Justin, his voice warm and measured. The sergeant gave Justin a once-over, as if he were assessing a military situation. “Want to help us get him into the van?”

  Justin shook his head. “No thanks.”

  Reyes held Justin’s gaze for a long moment. Justin felt as if the man was trying to read his mind, so he looked away and down at the ground.

  “It might go a lot easier if you did,” Sergeant Reyes said, gesturing to the church doors—and the parking lot beyond them—with his thumb.

  “Go on, Justin,” his dad said, his voice hoarse. “Help the men out.”

  Justin shrugged. He hated that everyone was staring at him. Now he wasn’t just Kyle’s little brother, or even the dead Marine’s little brother—he was the dead Marine’s little brother who got sniffed by a crazy dog in church. Lufkin was too small of a town for that news to stay quiet for long.

  “Okay, fine,” he muttered.

  Justin headed for the doors, Max trotting happily by his side. The handler gave Max some slack on his leash, and Max didn’t pull away. Justin kept waiting for Max to turn psycho again, but he didn’t.

  The group stepped out into the sunlight and heat, and Max stuck next to Justin as they crossed the parking lot to the van. It was like Max was on a mission. Justin wondered if this is what Max did when he and Kyle were on patrol. Max was alert, and his big black-and-tan ears swerved from side to side, listening for danger. Justin almost wanted to laugh. What kind of danger did this dog expect to find in a tiny, boring Texas town?