The Immigrant Who Played Basketball

Chapter Twenty Six-"You'll never give up."

Lara's POV

"Lara. Can you walk Barbara's dog? She's not feeling too well but that dog is restless," Mom calls out.

I would do anything right now to clear my head from my impossible Algebra homework.

"Sure," I respond, chucking my Algebra books out of sight.

I slip on a warm hoodie, old leggings and muddy trainers and tie my hair into a messy bun. Collecting a get-better-soon gift, I leave the house.

"See you later, Mom."

"See you, honey."

I close the gate behind me and stroll to the house next door. I ring the doorbell.

DING! DONG!

There's a bark and a hush behind the door. Barbara opens the door, eyes tired and her face paler than ever.

"Hello, Lara," Barbara croaks, clutching a worn handkerchief," How are you, dear?"

"Good. I can't say the same for you, though."

"Horrible sore throat and cough!"

"Well, I hope you get better. Mom made tomato soup. She hopes you get better, too, and that you enjoy the soup."

"Thank you. And say thank you to your mum. You're both nice folk. Should I get Sammy ready?"

"Yes, please!"

Barbara smiles weakly.

"Sammy! Come here, boy!" Barbara wheezes.

A bundle of blonde fur leaps onto me as a golden retriever licks my face with its sandpaper tongue.

"Hey, boy! I'm happy to see you, too," I chuckle.

As Barbara watches us, she smiles sadly.

"Poor dog! It's not fun being cooped up all day but I haven't been feeling up to it," she sighs," You do remember how he likes his walks, right?"

"You don't have to worry at all. Your dog will be in great hands while you rest," I assure her, stroking Sammy's fur affectionately," Won't ya, boy?"

"I knew I asked the right girl for the job."

Barbara disappears into the house but returns.

"Here," she says, passing me Sammy's lead and his favourite ball," Have a great time, you two!"

"We will!" I reply before she closes the door.

"It's just you and me, boy," I whisper lovingly, clipping Sammy's lead onto his collar.
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Sammy leaps ahead of me, laying down in the grass. We've just entered his favourite park. I unclip his lead, allowing him freedom. He barks happily, signalling his approval. I laugh while grabbing the ball from my pocket and tossing it at him.

As quick as a flash, he zooms after it and I settle on a comfortable patch of grass, chilling. I only open my eyes when Sammy receives the ball, placing it on my body to throw it again.

However, one time I don't hear his panting, telling me that he hasn't returned. I open my eyes, double checking, thinking maybe he's just being really quiet. There's no sign of golden fur.

My heart rate increases as I start to panick. I tossed the ball to him ages ago, he should have come back by now. I stand up, dizzy with anxiety.

"Sammy! Where are you, boy? Come here!" I yell.