Cracker!

Cracker! by Cynthia Kadohata Page A

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Authors: Cynthia Kadohata
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counted about forty men. Everyone looked pretty relaxed. The commanding officer told Rick to head due east. Rick began walking point with Cracker and the other handler.
    Cracker didn’t like the other guy walking so close to them. A couple of times she growled at him, but then she felt the harness jerk and heard Rick snap, “No!” So she put up with the other man. She kept looking back at Rick to see if she was going to be let off leash, but Rick never gave any indication. The whole day they walked—and walked and walked and walked—through light brush. She didn’t smell anything special, except the body odor of the guy walking next to Rick. Then she smelled gunpowder and pricked up her ears. The smell kind of twirled around in the air with the wind. She looked back at Rick, and he said, “Search.” She walked more and then heard the whistle of the wind passing over string. She sat down.
    “Whatcha got, girl? She’s got something,” said Rick. He didn’t move forward—he’d learned his lesson well back in Georgia. He, the other handler, and Cracker fell back while one of the men checked out and then fired at the booby trap, setting it off. Cracker didn’t even flinch at the explosion. Man, she was a great dog.
    Rick found he loved walking point. This is what he’d been trained for. He thought again about saving that boy’s life. He could save lives today, and he felt one hundred percent certain that Cracker wouldn’t let him get killed. She found seven other booby traps that day. He’d heard the record was more than one hundred, but he didn’t believe it. Rick thought it had been a pretty low-key day, but when they went back to the camp several guys from the mission nodded at him. Respect. It felt good. He snuck Cracker some extra food that night.
    Cracker spent the night alone in her crate. She didn’t understand why some nights she had to sleep by herself in the crate and some nights she slept outside with Rick. She liked to sleep with Rick, though she still vaguely remembered her bed with Willie. That bed was pretty comfortable. She did miss that a little. And the concrete they used to walk on was easier on the feet than these bumpy trails. On the other hand, she’d felt something out there in the bush today, something new that she hadn’t felt even in that other place where they’d searched through the bushes. She felt like she was herself. That was strange, because “herself” really loved lying in a soft bed. But out there, searching for something she knew was important to Rick, and somehow also important to her, she was herself. She didn’t feel ecstatic, like she did when Rick was petting and praising her, and she didn’t feel excited, like when he was just about to feed her. She felt like she was herself and that she was a part of everything around her. It was something new. She liked it. And when she was finished for the day, she felt like she was Somebody Important. She knew Rick felt important too. They were important together.
    When Rick returned, Twenty-Twenty and Cody were off on missions. He saw them less and less. They’d both pulled a couple of longer missions right away, and just as they got back, Rick pulled his second mission. It seemed that the handlers worked more independently than most guys. One of the short timers had said you usually didn’t even know the men you were working with.
    Rick’s second mission was a night ambush near base. He went out with a platoon of twenty-four men. He and Cracker cleared the area first, meaning he walked through the area in an orderly fashion searching for booby traps or enemy mines. Cracker didn’t alert a single time, and one of the guys grumbled that she “isn’t finding anything.” But Rick knew that she didn’t alert because there was nothing to alert for. That night the platoon set up claymore mines around the perimeter of their nighttime defensive position. If any enemy soldiers approached in the night, they would be

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