The Whistle

Ages 12-15

Leeza is trying to whistle for the dog, and what comes out is air.

She sits on the porch step with her lips pushed forward. She has watched her brother do it, with two fingers in his mouth, and the dog comes from the end of the road at a run. Hers makes a soft sound.

The dog is at the bottom of the yard, looking at a leaf. He does not turn.

She tries again. She tries with a finger, and then with two. She wets her lips, and pushes her tongue back. A thin hiss. A thin cough.

Her brother goes by, with his bag on his shoulder, and does not stop.

She keeps trying for an hour. The light moves along the boards. Her lips are dry, and her cheeks ache.

Then she stops trying, and rests her chin on her knees, and, without meaning to, whistles once through her teeth. A note comes. It is thin, and high, and it carries.

The dog's head comes up. He looks at her. He crosses the yard, and he comes up the steps, and sits down against her leg.

She sits very still. His head is heavy on her knee.