Clem's Arc

Chapter 1 of 5

Clem pressed his nose against the fence post at the edge of Gremlin's Gorge. The scent of pine and old memories filled his nostrils. Somewhere beyond the ridge, buried in the yard where his first friend once lived, lay the brass collar he'd lost years ago. He turned and started down the dusty trail. His paws kicked up small clouds with each step. The sun beat down on his red bandana as he walked. After an hour, the path opened into a clearing. There it stood—the old adobe house with peeling paint. The walls were cracked and faded. A doghouse sagged in the yard, its roof-collapsed. Clem's tail wagged once. This was the place. The brass collar waited somewhere beneath that packed dirt, holding memories of when everything was different. He padded across the yard toward the doghouse. The wood smelled of rot and dust. Clem circled the structure twice, sniffing for the right spot. His nose caught something—a faint metallic scent mixed with earth. He stopped near the back corner where the ground looked softer. His claws scraped against the packed dirt. This was it. This was where he'd buried the collar all those years ago, the last piece of his first friend. Clem sat down and stared at the spot. Tomorrow he would dig. Tomorrow he would hold that brass again. But waiting felt wrong. Clem stood and scratched at the dirt with his front paws. The ground was hard, baked by too many summers. His claws barely made a dent. A young beagle pup bounded around the corner of the house, tail wagging. The pup sniffed Clem once, then started digging beside him. His small paws worked fast, loosening the packed earth. Clem joined in, and together they dug deeper. The dirt grew softer now. Clem's heart beat faster as the hole widened. Soon the brass collar would be in his teeth again, proof that his first friend had been real.