That family never knew what happened to their beloved pet. Probably figured coyotes got him or something. And now Zin had herself a much needed friend. She even changed his name. Since she was named after a flower, she named him after another plant. She chose the fast-growing kudzu, because of the way the dog had grown on her. She didn't even remember his real name anymore.
But that was a story she couldn't tell, because she knew in her heart how shameful it was. Well, what goes around comes around to bite you in the butt, and now it was time to make things right. But she didn't have to like it.
She did what the Ogre told her to do: She found a family. Not just any family, but one that was like the one Kudzu had come from. She found a wealthy family with two little kids, and Zin watched them long enough to know they were good people. She sat with them at dinner, ripping herself some corn on the cob when no one was looking. Then, when she was absolutely sure this was the right home, she went to get Kudzu and the Ogre.
Distant thunder rolled, low and ominous as they approached the house. Dark clouds filled the Eastern horizon. Zin felt much the same on the inside.
"Looks like they already have a dog," the Ogre said, as they stepped into the family's backyard. There was a doghouse in the yard, and two big bags of dried dog food leaned up against it.
"I put that there," Zin told him. She had ripped the doghouse and the food from a nearby pet store, and had crammed it all into the backyard earlier in the day. The family had seen it and was understandably confused. The children were convinced that this was all some sort of surprise--that somebody was about to give them a dog, and the parents tried to figure which friend or relative might do something like this.
"I hadda prepare them," Zin told the Ogre. "Because, if a dog just showed up in their yard, they'd probably just take him to the pound. But if he shows up along with all this other stuff, they'll know he's not just a stray. They'll know that someone meant to put him here, even if they don't know who."
"Good thinking," said the Ogre.
The family was inside now, maybe making calls to see who was playing pooch games with them. Zin held Kudzu for the longest time. He might have been a smart dog, but he had no idea what was coming.
"Maybe it won't work," Zin said. "A dog's not like a bunch of stupid flowers. Maybe something this big--this alive--can't get through."
"Maybe not, but there's only one way to know for sure."
She knew the Ogre would say that.
Zin spoke to Kudzu in hushed tones, saying all the things you say to someone when you know you're never going to see him again. Then finally the Ogre said, "It's time."
Zin grabbed Kudzu by the scruff of his neck with her ripping hand. "Sorry, boy," and she began to push him forward.
Cramming, which had been so hard at first, had become easier, just as the Ogre had said it would--but nothing could make this easy. It wasn't like picking a lock, it was like breaking into Fort Knox.
And to make it even worse, Kudzu began to whine and resist the second the portal began to open. "Help me!" Zin said, straining to force Kudzu forward. Now the Ogre pushed along with her, both of them straining with all their might. His snout was through, then his head, then his front legs. Kudzu let loose a mournful howl, the portal stretched around his haunches, and with a final push he was through, the portal healed closed, and Zin and the Ogre fell back, knocked down by the shock wave of the sealing portal.
Kudzu darted back and forth on the grass in front of them, confused and confounded by the change.
"Look!" the Ogre said. "He has no afterglow! Do you see? Do you see?" Kudzu was back in the living world! The browns of his fur were paler and out of focus, and his body was true flesh and bone. He leaped this way and that, searching for Zin, barking frantically. Some faint sense must have told him she was still there, but he couldn't find her and never would.
"He's alive!" the Ogre said, like some mad scientist. "He's alive!"
"I'm sorry, boy," Zin whimpered, "I'm so, so sorry... ." But she knew Kudzu couldn't hear her.
The family, hearing the barking dog, came out to the yard, and although it took a few minutes, it was the kids who won Kudzu over. They put their arms around his frightened neck.
"What's your name, boy?" the girl asked.
"It's Kudzu!" shouted Zin, but no one heard.
Thunder rolled, a little closer than before. The parents looked up at the threatening sky, and the boy said, "Let's call him Storm!"
And that finally closed the circle--because Zin suddenly remembered that Storm was his real name.
In a few moments, the dog's barks became whimpers, which soon gave way to nervous panting. It wasn't long until Kudzu/Storm lay down and rolled over, angling for a belly rub, which his new family was more than happy to provide.
Zin turned to the Ogre. "I hate you," she said, and she meant it with every bit of her being.
"You can hate me all you want," he told her. "But you've just shown your loyalty by putting your orders ahead of your personal feelings. That kind of loyalty is rewarded ... lieutenant." Then he reached forward with his chocolate-covered hand, and painted a fresh brown chevron on the sleeve of her uniform. Then he said something that put it all into focus for Zin, making her admire him almost as much as she hated him.
"I want you to remember what it took to push Kudzu into the living world," the Chocolate Ogre told her, "because very soon, that's exactly what you'll be doing to Mary Hightower."
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