Benji and the Taxi Driver's Dog

Benji did not like injustice.

This was, Omar had observed, the common thread. It was not that Benji liked solving puzzles. It was not that Benji enjoyed the process of leading three children around Cliffside and watching them figure things out. It was that Benji did not like it when things were wrong, and he had a nose for wrong, and he did something about it.

The thing that was wrong this particular Saturday was a dog.

His name — the children gave him one later — was Cap. He was a brown dog, small, tied on a short rope in the yard of a house three streets from Cliffside Lane. The yard had no shade. The water bowl had been empty since at least Thursday, which was when Benji had first appeared at the corner of the street and begun his vigil.

Benji had been watching Cap’s yard for a week.

The house belonged to a taxi driver named Mr. Everton — not the same Mr. Everton from the churchyard story, a different one, common name in Cliffside — who worked long hours and was sometimes gone for two and three days at a stretch on airport runs. He was not a bad man. He had the dog because dogs were useful for yard security. He had not thought about the dog’s water bowl with the same attention he gave to other things.

Benji showed the crew the yard on Saturday morning by standing at the gate and looking at them until they looked where he was looking.

“The water bowl is empty,” Nadine said.

“It’s been empty a while,” Omar said. “Look at the dog’s eyes.”

Cap was lying in a corner of the yard, in the thin strip of shade from the fence, looking at them with eyes that did not have the energy to be interested.

“That’s not good,” Clevie said, in the quiet voice he used when something was genuinely upsetting him.

“No,” Nadine said.

“We can’t go into someone’s yard,” Omar said.

“No. But we can get water to the bowl.” She pointed. “The bowl is next to the fence. The fence has gaps. If we had a container and a hose—”

“I can get a hose from our yard,” Clevie said. He was already moving.

They got water to the bowl through the fence gap with a garden hose from Clevie’s yard extended at full stretch, which was not elegant but worked. Cap moved to the bowl within thirty seconds and drank for a long time.

“We need to talk to the owner,” Omar said.

“He’s not here,” Nadine said. “But someone knows how to reach him. This is a neighbourhood. Someone knows his schedule.”

Miss Icie knew his schedule. Miss Icie knew most people’s schedules, as a matter of being at a market table every Saturday for many years and paying attention. She said Mr. Everton the taxi driver was usually back on Sundays from his airport circuit and she would speak to him.

She spoke to him.

Mr. Everton was not a bad man, and when it was explained to him that a dog tied in a yard alone for two days with an empty water bowl was a problem, he said “Lord, yes, you’re right” and made an arrangement with his neighbour for the days he was away. The neighbour, who was retired and had time, said she was glad to help and she had been wondering about the dog for a while but hadn’t felt it was her place to say.

“It’s your place to say,” Nadine told her. “When you see something that’s wrong, it’s everyone’s place to say.”

The neighbour agreed, and she and Nadine had a conversation that went on longer than Omar had expected, about exactly this topic, in considerable depth.

Clevie fed Cap a piece of hard dough bread through the fence gap while they talked.

Cap ate it and looked at Clevie.

“You’re alright,” Clevie told him.

Cap’s tail moved.

Benji observed all of this from the corner of the street. He did not come to the gate. He did not introduce himself to Cap. He simply watched until things were arranged correctly and then turned and walked away.

“He’s not — friendly with Cap,” Clevie said, watching him go. “He didn’t even go over.”

“He wasn’t here for Cap’s company,” Nadine said. “He was here for Cap’s water.”

“Still. Another dog. I thought dogs liked each other.”

“Benji isn’t here to make friends,” Omar said. “He’s here to fix things. They’re different activities.”

Clevie considered this.

“He fixed it though,” he said.

“He started it,” Omar said. “We fixed it. Miss Icie fixed it. The neighbour fixed it. He just noticed it needed fixing.”

“That’s his whole thing, isn’t it,” Clevie said.

“That’s his whole thing,” Omar said.