My Three Dogs, page 11
Brad finally stepped forward. He put gloved fingers on the blanket, finding and holding Liam’s limp hand. “Liam,” Brad croaked, “this is it. I have to go. It’s what you told me I had to do. Go to Germany, I mean. I can’t promise when I’ll be back. It’s not up to me.” Brad shrugged. “I’m so sorry this happened to you. I feel like my whole life I was supposed to protect you, but now there’s nothing I can do. Well”—he gestured toward the door—“except I told them, no way are you going to turn off the machines. No way, stop feeding. Stop feeding? No. Give you every chance. And this place is a lot better than the hospital.” Brad glanced around. The small room had a painting of a sailboat hanging on the wall. It looked like something you’d see in a cheap motel room.
“I’ve been doing a lot of reading about comas,” he continued. “Some people make it to the other side, get better, sometimes without the doctors fully understanding why, and I want that person to be you. If there’s anybody who can do it, it’s you.” Brad’s face crumpled in agony, and he put his palms up and over his eyes and let the racking sobs beat at him from within. When he could finally catch a breath, he looked at the ceiling as if reading words written there.
“I’ve always been so proud of you, little brother. When we were younger and Mom and Dad vanished on us, you were always the optimistic one. When those people from family services came and took us out of the house, I wanted to fight, I wanted to hit them, and I couldn’t bear the thought of abandoning the last place Mom and Dad had left us, in case they came looking and we were gone, but you said everything was going to be okay. You were my little brother, but you assured me; you propped me up and kept me strong. That’s why everyone likes you, Liam. You go through life and people are drawn to you.
“That’s why”—Brad gave a little laugh—“here in a time when housing construction is being taken over by huge corporations everywhere in the world, you make a success at being independent, keeping your customers happy by just hiring the best people because they want to be with you, want to work for you.
“Mom always said you were like a light attracting the moths. Well, those moths are the people. The people who love you, Liam.” Brad was silent for a long moment, visibly forcing himself under control. “So this might be goodbye until the next life. I’ve never talked to God as much as I have since the day of your accident. Am I doing the right thing? Should I stay? But they tell me this could go on for years, or days, or even just a few hours, though you’re stable now, and this facility is designed for patients just like you. Everyone assures me there’s no reason for me to come every day. You don’t know I’m here, they say. They’ll keep moving your limbs and turning you and helping you, and I’d just be in the way. The therapist told me I can’t let the accident destroy everything, that if you did wake up and found out I never went to Germany, it would break your heart. So everybody who thinks they get a vote is telling me to go.” Brad shook his head in resignation. “I tried asking God for a sign, you know, like the Clash—should I stay or should I go? I got nothing. So now when I pray, I’m just begging, ‘Please, please let my brother live.’ You’re more important to me than anybody else has ever been. I can’t imagine what my life will be without you, Liam. I just can’t even describe it to myself. I think maybe it helps that I’m going to a new country where I don’t speak the language worth a damn because it means everything will be so new and different. I won’t be reminded of you at every street corner, every restaurant. Hell, even the beer is different.” Brad barked out a short, mirthless laugh.
“I guess the only thing that will really strike me is when I see somebody with too many dogs.” Brad gave a wry smile, but it quickly dropped off his face. “So yes, Sabrina couldn’t take the dogs. You know, I had to … I had to take them to a shelter, but they’ll find good homes, and I believe like in that book that we both read when we were younger that our dogs will return to find us, either in this life or the next one. It wouldn’t be heaven without them.”
Brad guiltily lifted his mask off his nose and hastily drew a sleeve across it before dropping it back into place. “This could be goodbye forever, Liam. Baby brother. Best friend. Only family I got left. I love you.”
18
Yet another family came to the place of all the barking. There was a man, a woman, and a boy.
The boy ran to Archie’s cage and announced, “This is the dog. This is the dog.” He stood and gestured impatiently for Teme to open the door.
Teme nodded to the two adults. “We have to have signed permission from your parents first.”
The boy scowled. As he did so, he raised his hand and pushed a flop of black hair out of his dark eyes. The hair immediately fell back. It reminded Riggs of the way Archie’s curls sometimes seemed to completely obscure the dog’s vision.
“I’m sixteen,” the boy stated emphatically.
“Right,” Teme responded blandly. She passed over a clipboard and the woman accepted it.
“This is Darren,” the woman advised as she scrawled with a pen on the clipboard. “He’s not legally Theo’s stepfather, so does he need to sign?”
“Well, but we’re married…” Darren objected mildly. “That makes me the stepfather.”
The woman and Theo both shook their heads. “Not legally,” the woman insisted.
Teme shrugged, returning to the question. “I don’t know. I think as long as you’ve got one adult signature, it’s good enough.” Teme opened the cage door, and Archie came rushing out, going straight to the boy named Theo.
Archie jumped on Theo, and the boy let himself be tackled to the ground, laughing. “I’ve always wanted a dog,” he declared delightedly.
“Well, hey, are you forgetting Brody?” the woman asked.
The boy shook his head. “That wasn’t my dog. That was your dog. And he died a long time ago.”
“Well, two years,” the woman corrected.
“What do you think, son?” the man asked the boy, who was still sprawled on the floor.
The boy darted a quick, hostile look at the man. “I think, Darren,” the boy replied deliberately, “this is the dog I want. See how he came to me?”
Riggs watched in mild disgust as Archie reacted to Theo the way he reacted to everybody, with heedless, indiscriminate affection.
“A lot of responsibility goes into taking care of a dog,” Darren observed neutrally.
Theo returned this bit of advice with a sullen glare. “I know that,” he retorted impatiently. He looked to the woman. “What do you think, Mom?”
“I think whatever you want,” the woman, Mom, replied. “It’s going to be your dog, after all.”
“What do you think, Archie?” the boy asked. “Do you want to come live with me?”
“You’ll have to take care of this dog,” the man insisted. “That means giving him food and water. That means taking him for walks. That especially means keeping the yard clean when he squats and does his business.”
“Yeah,” the boy replied vacantly. “Sure.”
“You think you’re ready for that?” the man probed.
The woman turned on him. “Darren,” she chided, “he’s sixteen.”
“He is sixteen,” the man responded agreeably, “but he doesn’t even have a driver’s license.”
The boy darted an embarrassed look at Teme before responding. “None of my friends have driver’s licenses,” he snapped.
“All right,” Darren acknowledged, still addressing Mom, “but he’s not really taking care of the chores he does have.”
“Yeah, but you said I could have a dog, Mom,” the boy interjected in offended tones, ignoring the man.
The woman turned. “Darren, I think this would be a great way to teach responsibility, don’t you?”
The man raised an eyebrow. “Sure,” he agreed slowly, “sort of like how having a baby teaches someone responsibility, right?”
The woman scowled. “Whatever point you think you are making doesn’t apply here.”
The boy stood, and Archie gazed up at him adoringly. “Let’s go,” the boy suggested.
“You’re next in line, but there are other families who are interested in Archie, so if it doesn’t work out for you, please let us know and bring him back,” Teme requested. “Labradoodle puppies are very much in demand.”
“Well, he hardly seems like a puppy,” Mom objected.
“He’s less than a year old, and, in Labradoodle time, that makes him pretty much a puppy,” Teme responded.
“We had discussed getting an older dog,” the man ventured.
“Yes, but now I want this one,” the boy answered emphatically.
Luna and Riggs watched as the family walked down the hallway with Teme and Archie. When they passed through the door and it shut, the smell of their fellow pack mate immediately began to leave the room. Riggs turned and met Luna’s gaze. Something had happened, but Riggs didn’t understand.
Luna did, though. Luna understood that Archie was irrepressibly affectionate and trusting. Instead of waiting for their real people to come back, Archie fell instantly in love with everyone.
Yet this particular family had seemed especially onerous to Luna. She had felt the real tension between the three of them, and it was clear that the boy wanted Archie to go with him but that the man wasn’t so sure.
Luna resolved not to be enthusiastic about any visiting families. She would not act as if it would be wonderful if they would all leave together. And she would never, she decided as she regarded her brother dog, abandon Riggs.
Riggs gazed back at her as if he understood what she was thinking.
* * *
The first few days Archie was in his new home were so much fun the young dog almost forgot about life with Liam and the dog pack. The boy, Theo, gave him constant attention. They played in his room and in the backyard. Theo threw a ball, and Archie joyously pursued it and brought it back to him for another toss. The boy fed him and watered him on a regular basis, setting it out for him on the floor in the kitchen. Archie needed to go out into the backyard frequently to maintain the sort of biological discipline Riggs and Liam had seemed to want from him, and Theo cheerfully accommodated this need. Apparently, this was what people desired from dogs, though always before it had seemed most sensible to enjoy having fun and only stop to squat when the need was immediate.
After that initial time period, Theo started coming home in the afternoon, fixing himself something to eat, and then sitting on the couch to look at his phone. Archie was no longer the center of Theo’s world, which meant that the dog wasn’t getting let outside as much as he needed. Even when Archie pointedly stepped over to the sliding window and scratched, the boy didn’t so much as look up. When Archie finally squatted on the floor, something that had always in his life led to doors being flung open, the boy shouted at him and smacked him across his butt with an open palm. Chagrined and terrified, Archie retreated, urine still dribbling from him, and the boy became even angrier. He did finally throw open the sliding door, and Archie ran guiltily out into the warm sun. There was, he was sure, a lesson he was supposed to have learned, though he wasn’t altogether sure what it was.
Later that evening, the man slumped into the house. That’s how he always arrived, as if carrying something invisible across his shoulders. Archie now knew his name was Darren, that he wasn’t around very much but that he lived with Mom and Theo.
Darren walked into the kitchen, sighing. “Tough day today,” he murmured.
Mom looked pointedly at her wrist. “Theo and I ate dinner more than an hour ago.”
The man settled tiredly into his chair, and Archie padded over to sniff his hand. “There you are. Hi, Archie,” Darren crooned, stroking him. Some of the heaviness seemed to lift off him.
“Archie had an accident in the house today. It was all over. I had to mop it up and spray Lysol,” Mom complained.
“Huh,” the man grunted. He looked up. “Where was Theo?”
The woman looked away and then back. “Is that what this is going to be? Every time the dog does something wrong, you blame my son?”
Darren wearily shook his head. “I’m just remembering the guitar lessons that he did for like a month. Now that guitar just sits in his closet. Or the time I put up the basketball hoop and we gave him those ridiculously expensive shoes and a new basketball and then he went out and dribbled around for a while, and now the basketball’s in the closet next to the guitar.”
“What’s your point?” the woman asked sharply.
“I just think that we might be indulging Theo too much. That the boy needs to learn—”
The woman held up a hand to interrupt him. “You have no idea what it was like to raise him after his father abandoned us, and I will not stand here and listen to you criticize my parenting.”
“I’m not criticizing,” Darren responded with gentle defensiveness. “I just think if it’s going to be his dog, Theo should clean up the dog’s messes, and not you.”
“Well, good luck with that,” the woman spat. She stalked out of the kitchen. Archie watched attentively as Darren went to the refrigerator and pulled out something that crinkled. Crinkly noises were always a good sign.
The man sat wearily. “All right, Archie. Have you been fed yet?” The man glanced into Archie’s bowl. “You don’t have any water either.” Before he had taken a bite himself, Darren eased back up out of his chair, went to the sink, filled Archie’s water bowl, and then set a bowl of glorious food next to it.
Archie loved Darren.
A day later, when Archie’s boredom could not be worse, he found a dry toy and chewed it contentedly. Once he started gnawing at the thing, he couldn’t stop himself. Every time he pulled with his teeth and a satisfying tearing noise met his efforts, some part of Archie celebrated, even as another small part thought he might be doing something bad. Being a bad dog was not something Archie wanted, but it wasn’t always clear how his actions might be interpreted by humans.
It was clear this time, though.
Archie had forgotten about the dry toy and left its pieces scattered around the room. He was sound asleep on Theo’s bed when Theo came running in, dumped a bag that landed heavily on the floor, turned, and started to run out. Then he stopped, swiveled, and stared.
“What did you do, Archie?” he screamed.
That was a tone no dog could misunderstand. Archie slid guiltily off the bed, hit the floor, and trotted quickly in a fast retreat out of the room. Theo pursued.
“You are a bad dog, bad dog!” Theo yelled angrily. In the kitchen, Archie ran to the door and gave Mom a pleading look. She was talking on the phone and turned away from him. Archie was afraid of Theo, afraid of his anger, and cringed away from it as Theo came across the kitchen floor. The boy drew back his foot for a kick.
Archie cowered, blinking, trying to shrink away from what was coming.
19
Theo’s fury affected his aim. Archie darted aside as the foot swiftly descended, and it smacked audibly against the sliding door where Archie had been cowering a moment before.
“Hey!” Mom yelled. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“The damn dog ripped up my sketchbook,” Theo replied tersely.
The mom fixed him with an angry look. “Well, I’m on the phone,” she snapped.
With an elaborate shrug and roll of his eyes, Theo reached down, snagged the handle of the slider, and flung it open so violently it made a loud bang. “Get out there!” he bellowed at Archie.
“Hey!” Mom shouted again. “Would you do that somewhere else?”
“Would I open the door to the backyard somewhere else? Like where, the bathroom?” Theo demanded.
Mom rolled her eyes.
Archie darted out into the yard for whatever safety could be had in the fenced-in enclosure. He registered the sound of the slider closing, and then he was alone.
Archie found shade and curled up in it, hoping Theo would stop being angry soon. As long as the boy was angry, Archie felt like a bad dog.
That night, Darren came out into the yard and whistled softly. Archie trotted to him willingly. It was dark now, and the day had given up a lot of heat. A joyous time to be outside, but Archie had been wallowing in grief from having been such a bad dog that he couldn’t enjoy it. Darren, though, seemed forgiving, and let him in the house. Archie trotted immediately to the water bowl and lapped and lapped greedily. It reminded him of that first drink in the area of baths when Luna had figured out how to provide water for the pack—he was that thirsty.
Mom and Theo were in the kitchen. Mom was picking up dishes and carrying them to the sink, and Theo was looking at his phone.
“How long has the dog been out there without water?” Darren demanded.
Theo looked up with a scowl. “He’s being punished.”
Darren glanced at Mom, who shrugged, and then back at Theo. “You don’t punish a dog by denying him water,” Darren lectured sternly.
“That’s not what I was doing,” Theo responded evenly. “He chewed up my sketchbook. I mean, totally destroyed it. All of my graphic novel ideas were in there. I was going to submit them in English for extra credit this fall.”
“So you believe that by putting him out in the yard without water that you have taught Archie never to have anything to do with high school English again,” Darren summarized. Theo gave him a blank look. “Hey,” Darren finally said, making a deliberate attempt to lighten the mood, “at least now you get to say that your dog literally ate your homework.” Darren shrugged and smiled. “It’s like a slacker’s dream come true.”
