At the top of the dune she paused, looking down toward the long dark expanse of the beach. "It's been a good year," her father had said a couple of months before, over dinner. "We can't go far for vacation—but let's go somewhere nice. One of the beaches in the Hamptons, maybe. We'll rent a house and live beyond our means. For a couple weeks, anyway. …It hadn't taken Nita much begging to get her folks to let her friend Kit Rodriguez go along with them, or to get Kit's folks to say yes. Both families were delighted that their children had each finally found a close friend. Nita, and Kit laughed about that sometimes. Their families knew only the surface | of what was going on—which was probably for the best. A black shape came scrabbling up the dune toward Nita, flinging sand in I all directions in his hurry. "Whoa!" she shouted at Ponch, but it was no use; it never was. He hit her about stomach level with both paws and knocked her down, panting with excitement; then, when she managed to sit up, he started | enthusiastically washing her face. His breath smelled like dead fish."Euuuuw, enough!" Nita said, making a face and pushing the dog more or| less off her. "Ponch, where's Kit?""Yayayayayayayaya!" Ponch barked, jumping up and bouncing around Nita I in an attempt to get her to play. He grabbed up a long string of dead seaweed | in his jaws and began shaking it like a rope and growling."Cut it out, Ponch. Get serious." Nita got up and headed down the far| side of the dune, brushing herself off as she went. "Where's the boss?""He played with me," Ponch said in another string of barks as he loped | down the dune alongside her. "He threw the stick. I chased it.""Great. Where is he now?" They came to the bottom of the dune together. The sand was harder I there, but still dry; the tide was low and just beginning to turn. "Don't| know," Ponch said, a bark with a grumble on the end of it.
