From the Ashes, page 14
“She’s right. I do.”
His grin widened. “I suppose you could strap me to the roof.”
The image of that made her laugh. Oh, how she had missed this. How she wanted it. Even if only for a day.
He took the folded white cane out of the inside pocket of his jacket and snapped it open. “Even strapped to the top of your little car, I could almost use this to find my way.”
Once more she laughed, glad to see that his sense of humor about his situation remained intact.
Shaking her head at their silliness, Angela said, “I should warn you now, it’s likely to be a boring day. I walk up and down the aisle looking at dogs and then looking at them again. And then, if I decide they have potential, I take them for a walk before giving them a battery of tests. You could be bored out of your mind.”
“It won’t happen,” he assured her.
“Okay, okay. You can come, and we’ll take your car. But I don’t think making Sam wait around for us all day is right.” She glanced at him. “You can use my car.”
“That’s nice of you. Thanks,” Sam said. “But that’s up to Brian.”
“Fine with me,” he said. “In fact, it’s a good idea.”
While she put on her coat, they decided that Sam would leave her car at Brian’s house where he’d pick up his own, which left him free for the day.
After Sam left, she was alone with Brian and unaccountably uncomfortable, her words from the last time they’d been together echoing in her head. I never want to see you again. She’d both hated them and meant them.
“Maisey said you and Jasper are doing well,” she said, mostly to fill up the silence.
“You said that already.” He held out the car keys for her. “Don’t make small talk, Angela. Not now. Not after everything we’ve been through.”
“You’re right.”
She took a couple of steps forward to take the keys from him. He didn’t drop them into her hand, however, but instead took hers. This close, she was too aware of him, too ready to lean her head against his chest and listen to his heart beat, too shaky for her own peace of mind.
“The deal with Andrew Brogg isn’t going to be part of the dynamic between us,” he said, his voice husky.
“There will always be someone like him, aiming to make a name for himself.”
“Maybe, but you know as well as I do that you can’t live your life worrying about what someone else might do.”
“I don’t want to cause problems for you,” she whispered.
“I know. That was the main thing I kept thinking about the other night.” He touched her cheek with the back of his fingers. “I found a really useful tool a couple of days ago—well, actually, Sam did. A braille version of the Bible that can be read from the computer and that allows you to search on specific words like, for instance, faith.”
The change of topic surprised her, and she didn’t know what to say.
“Want to know what I found out?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Faith is a pretty terrific thing.”
She smiled. “I knew that.”
“But did you know that it’s to be sure of what you hope for and certain of what you do not see?”
“You’ve been reading.” She watched him, taking in his smile and the warmth of his hand holding hers. He was on a path that included God, she realized. Just as she had prayed for.
His grin was infectious. “Listening is more like it, but yeah.” He dropped the keys in her hand. “And, I’m beginning to understand a little bit about the source of your calm.”
She chuckled. “I haven’t been feeling very calm.”
“You were entitled to a relapse.” He clapped his hands together. “So, are you ready to go dog hunting?”
“I am.” She led the way toward the door. “That sounds really horrible, you know. Like something you’d need a special season and a license for.”
“Given the fate you’re saving some of these dogs from, that isn’t that far off.”
When they reached the Escalade, she discovered that Sam had already put the dog crate in the back of the vehicle. And as she pulled away from the curb, she also noticed Andrew Brogg’s too-familiar sedan a half block away. She didn’t say anything to Brian, though. There was nothing they could do about Andrew, so no reason to bring it up.
They headed for the county animal shelter close to her house, arriving there a scant fifteen minutes later. As they got out of the vehicle, Angela once again noticed Andrew’s car. Since the facility’s parking lot was also the end of the street, he was stuck coming into the parking lot to turn around. She thought about confronting him, then decided if he wanted to have a boring day, following them from one shelter to another, he was welcome to it.
“Hey, Angela,” called a woman as Brian and Angela came through the door.
The aroma of dogs and disinfectant hit him as he let Angela lead them across the room. He found himself listening to the way voices sounded, and he realized it was a large room without much to absorb the sound. He envisioned there was a concrete floor underneath them, and he suspected this was one of those large, all-purpose, metal warehouse-type buildings.
“How are you, Sandy?” Angela returned.
“Glad that you came. We have three dogs especially that I want you to look at.” The woman laughed. “And then, you always pick one I didn’t notice.”
“Sandy, this is my friend, Brian Ramsey,” Angela said, bringing their clasped hands forward enough that he felt a counter in front of them.
He appreciated the subtle gesture that helped him have a bearing on where he was in the room. He raised his right hand and discovered a tall counter.
“Nice to meet you,” she said without a bit of recognition in her voice.
“You, too,” Brian said, offering his hand.
She shook it, and he found himself analyzing that simple gesture, as well. Sandy wasn’t very big, he decided, since her hand was small within his. Even smaller than Angela’s slender one.
“Here are the pen numbers for the dogs I spotted,” she said. “Just give Pete a yell when you’re ready to look at any of them—he’s back there somewhere.”
“Will do.”
Still holding his hand, she led the way toward a door, which she opened. The sound of barking dogs was immediately heard, and to Brian’s ears, it wasn’t a happy sound, but a distressed one. Dogs barking because they were upset, because they were scared, some simply because they had nothing else to do.
“Do you ever get used to the sound?” he asked, imagining what it must look like—longing faces with hopeful eyes watching through chain-link gates. He sensed the room was a large one, and he imagined rows of chain-link cages separated by aisles.
“It rips my heart out every single time,” Angela said. “Do you have your cane with you?”
“Yep.” It was folded and tucked away inside his jacket. He knew that he had to start using the thing, but he hated the public display that he was blind.
As if somehow understanding that, she said, “Now would be a good time to practice. Nobody is here but you and me.”
He wanted to stare her down and had to laugh at himself about how futile that was. Despite his teasing her about it earlier, he hated the thing, hated that it marked him as different. Disabled. As always, the image of the blind beggar rose in his mind’s eye, and as always, he pushed it away. Soon, he’d have Jasper…and another symbol that he was blind. He laughed.
“What?” she asked.
“I’ve been thinking that I didn’t like the cane because it marks me as disabled. Like walking around with a guide dog won’t.”
“You’re not the only person to feel that way.”
“So be my eyes, Angela. What are we seeing and what are you looking for?”
“A dog that is no more than two years old, and a year or a bit more is even better. Sometimes you’ll find a purebred here, like I found Jasper, but there are mostly mixed breeds. I’m looking for dogs whose parents were goldens, shepherds, Labs, boxers. And if I found another poodle, that would be something.”
“You like my dog, huh?” Jasper wasn’t staying with him at night yet, but he was counting down the days until he would.
“I love your dog,” Angela replied. “I had a couple of great goldens that I trained about a year ago, and I didn’t think I’d ever work with a dog that was more responsive than those two. Jasper is smarter than they were, and they really were stellar dogs.”
Brian remembered his discomfort when he first met the dog, and he was also aware of just how much his perception had changed about that over the last week. He’d been able to see his dog before his sight was gone, thank God. The phrase echoed in his head, and he focused on it. Yeah. That was it exactly. Thank God, which must have been what his grandfather was getting at when they had first talked about the likelihood of him going blind. “You can moan about it, boy, with a ‘why me?’. And you’ll be miserable for the rest of your life. Or, you can be thankful for what you had and embrace that.”
“Hello, pretty boy,” Angela said, her voice bringing him back to the present. She must have bent over a little because her voice was lower to the floor than usual. “This guy is a boxer,” she added. “His ears have been cropped, but it wasn’t a very good job because they flop over at the top. He has a white blaze and a black mask, and there’s just a touch of white on his chin and upper lip that makes him look like he’s a candidate for a milk commercial.”
Brian chuckled. “I relate to that.”
“I bet you can,” she said, then adding to the dog, “We’ll be back to see you in a few minutes.”
Brian knew she had moved away since he could hear her footfalls. Sweeping the cane in front of him as he’d been taught by the occupational therapist, he followed her. Once he stopped being self-conscious, it was easier.
Angela was focused on the dogs, telling him about the personality profile and obedience aptitude that she’d be doing with the couple of dogs she was interested in. She told Brian there were more than fifty dogs in the shelter, which explained the noise level. He learned the cages were as he had imagined as she explained how they were kept clean and how the dogs were fed and watered. Most of the dogs were males and most of them were forty to seventy pounds. The information tags on many of the cages indicated they had been surrendered rather than caught running at large as he had assumed.
They had been going up and down the aisles for more than a half hour when she gave a distressed sound. “There should be a special kind of torture for people who let this happen to a dog. This cocker spaniel is so matted that it will be hours shaving him down.” The tone of her voice changed, and Brian knew that she’d once again knelt. “You don’t deserve this, do you, boy.” She stood, and her voice once again became brisk. “According to the information card, his owner brought him in, saying they were going on vacation and couldn’t find anyone to watch the dog, so they were giving him up. Like he’s an old pair of shoes or something. Can you believe it?”
“Do you ever think about adopting one of these dogs—just to have a dog?” he asked. “Not one to train for a service dog—just one to keep you company?”
“All the time. Especially when I see a guy like this who is as likely to be put down as he is to find a new home.”
“So, why haven’t you?”
“I don’t know. I could say I’m busy, but that would be only partly right.” She moved away from him. “I’ve lived alone for so long maybe I’m just scared to be responsible for someone else.”
The admission stunned Brian.
It must have stunned her, too, because a couple of seconds later, she said, “Don’t pay any attention to that. That’s the Christmas blues talking, that’s all.”
Brian thought it was probably more than that. In fact, he was sure of it as he imagined her house the couple of times he’d been there. She lived simply, and that was to be expected since he doubted she had anything more than a modest income. But now that he thought about it, her tidy home was austere. He didn’t remember seeing a single photograph or even a picture on the wall. It was as though she was still in some kind of prison, which maybe explained why she hadn’t given herself the companionship of any other living thing.
She inspected the last of the kennels, then went to find Pete so she could further examine the two dogs she was interested in, the boxer and a golden retriever mix. Brian stayed behind, and he found his way back to the kennel holding the cocker spaniel, first to see if he could, but secondly drawn to the dog who had struck such a chord with Angela.
He couldn’t get those two surprising things out of his head. That she was scared to be responsible for someone else when she was so responsible. And that she had the Christmas blues. He wondered if she had decorated her house for Christmas. He’d ask Sam about that later.
In front of the kennel, he knelt down on one knee and spoke softly to the dog. To his surprise, he heard the click of toenails against the cement and then felt the soft whoosh of the dog’s breath against his fingers, the chain-link separating them.
“Looks like you have one of the qualities Angela said she liked,” he told the dog. “You come to investigate. She’s all business today, but I think she likes you.”
At the sound of approaching footsteps, Brian lifted his head. One person, and not the familiar pattern of Angela’s footfall’s.
“Excuse me,” Brian said, “can you tell me if the card has this dog’s name on it?”
“Sure,” returned a male voice, and a second later reading, “Ziggy. You interested in this dog?”
“I am,” Brian said, thinking the voice sounded familiar. “What’s the process to adopt?”
“Fill out the paperwork, I guess. Pay the fee.” The man made a rude sound. “You’re good at that. Paying. And then expecting others to pay, too.”
“Do I know you?”
“Do you know me? Are you telling me that you can’t see me?”
“No. I can’t.” Brian stood, holding his cane in front of him, trying to judge the distance between him and the man, more trying to place the voice.
“I heard you’d gone blind, but I didn’t believe it. Everybody says it isn’t true, white cane or not.” The voice moved to his side, and a second later, the cane was kicked away and went clattering a few feet away. “You’re not such a big man now, are you?”
“And you’re proving you are?” Brian still didn’t place the voice though it was familiar.
All of his senses were tuned in somehow in a way they hadn’t been in months. Though the circumstances were completely different, he felt like he had in the middle of a big game when everything was on the line. He’d stand behind the center and look up and down the line, reading subtle changes in body language while he made the final adjustments in his own mind about how to finish the play. On the other side of the line were the players who wanted him intimidated, scared. And after the snap, when things were going well, it was an incredible feeling of power, dropping into the pocket and knowing his pass would land the football exactly where he wanted it to. It had been like that all week when he’d sat on the bench in his dark closet and prayed. It was like that now, though he knew the intent was to have him scared.
And he recognized the voice. The kid he had believed in, who had assured him the police could have nothing on him because he hadn’t done anything except hang out with his brother while he made a sale to an undercover cop. “What are you doing here, Ivan?”
FOURTEEN
“Just because you remembered my name—that don’t mean nothing,” Ivan said, sounding more like the teenager that he was, angry and sullen today.
Brian remembered being an angry teenager himself, and admitted that was part of what had drawn him to Ivan. Arguing with his logic wouldn’t get them anywhere.
“This is a little off the beaten path for you. How did you know I’d be here?” As he asked the question, he was also listening for Angela.
“I know stuff.”
No doubt about that, Brian thought. “That doesn’t answer the question.”
Brian could hear the kid shift from one foot to another, and he wished that he could see Ivan’s expression.
“I was surprised to see you, but you didn’t seem surprised to see me.”
“You can’t see nothing,” Ivan said. “And I knew you were going to be here.”
How, Brian wondered, ignoring the taunt. “So you found me. What’s on your mind?”
“I…uh…”
Stranger and stranger, Brian thought, comparing this conversation to one they’d had in his office the week before Thanksgiving. Then, Ivan had been sure of himself, polite, and he had made a convincing argument to have a second chance at the Beanstalk Gang, saying the activities, especially basketball, provided sanity in his life.
As Brian faced the young man, he imagined what he’d say to him if he could simply see. Despite the fact that Ivan had kicked away his cane, if he had intended any real harm he would have tried it by now.
“If I remember right, you don’t have wheels,” Brian said. “How did you get here?”
“A friend.”
Brian took a step forward, and when he heard Ivan back up a step, he inwardly smiled. The kid definitely wasn’t as cocky as he’d initially come off.
“The same friend who told you I was here?” One more step forward.
Ivan backed up again. “No.”
“What’s your friend’s name?” When Brian stepped forward this time, he felt the cane beneath his feet, and he bent to pick it up.
“How’d you do that? I mean, if you can’t see and all.”
“Sight is only one of the senses. You were going to tell me your friend’s name, and then you were going to tell me what you’re doing here.” Brian made sure his voice sounded authoritative.
“You owe me,” Ivan said, the words sounding forced, as though he’d just then remembered what he was going to say.
Brian took a step in the direction of his voice. “I doubt that, but just for the sake of conversation, exactly what do I owe you?” And he kept wondering where Angela was. Ivan’s older brother was trouble, and if he was the one who had driven the kid out here…
