A Dog's Journey Page 11

  I heard the back door open and ran over to see who it was. A flash of alarm coursed through CJ, so the fur went up on my neck.

  “I thought. You. Might be out here.” It was the bald man in front of whom Luke was always lying down. He made a gasping sound while he talked to CJ. I nosed her hand because she still felt scared to me. “Could. I have. A cigarette?”

  “Sure,” CJ said. She fumbled in her jacket.

  “Would you. Light it. For me? I cannot. Get. Enough. Suction,” the man said. He stroked his bald head.

  CJ lit fire and handed the stick to the man. He lifted it to his throat, not to his mouth like CJ did. There was a weak sucking sound and then smoke came out of a hole in his throat.

  “Ah,” the man said. “So good. I only. Allow. Myself one. A week.”

  “What happened? I mean…”

  “My hole?” The man smiled. “Throat. Cancer.”

  “God, I’m really sorry.”

  “No. My fault. I didn’t. Have to. Smoke.”

  They stood together for a moment. CJ was still upset, but her fear was slowly draining from her and dissipating like the smoke coming from her mouth.

  “Your age,” the man said.

  “Sorry?”

  “Your age. When I. Started. Smoking.” He smiled at her. I decided I didn’t need to stand guard over CJ anymore and went over to sniff his hand and see if maybe he had any treats. He leaned over. “Nice dog,” he said. His breath smelled like smoke, but it also had an odd metallic tang to it that I instantly recognized from when I was Buddy and had a bad taste in my mouth that I couldn’t get rid of. The bald man probably had the same taste in his mouth, because it was on his breath.

  The man went inside and CJ stood in the cold air and stared off into space for a long time. The stick in her hand was still smoldering. She leaned over and poked it into the snow and then threw it in the trash can and we went inside together.

  Andi was playing with the yellow dog. I was off leash and CJ was distracted, so I trotted over to where the bald man from outside was sitting in a chair. I went to him and bowed down, crossing my front paws as I’d seen Luke do.

  “Look at that,” Andi said. She came up to me. “Hey, Molly, did you learn to do that from Luke?”

  I wagged. However, I did not get a treat. Instead, Andi led me back over to be with CJ.

  I really liked Andi. I loved the way she greeted me with all the hugs and kisses a dog could ever want. But I thought it was unfair of her to give Luke a treat but not me.

  When we got home, Gloria was glad to see CJ but ignored me as usual. I had learned to stay away from Gloria, who never spoke to me or fed me or even looked at me, most of the time.

  “I think we should have a Christmas party this year,” Gloria said. She had a pad of paper in her hand and waved it at CJ. “Something really fancy. Catered. With champagne.”

  “I’m seventeen, Gloria. I’m not supposed to drink champagne.”

  “Oh, well, Christmas. You can invite whoever you want,” Gloria continued. “Are you seeing someone special?”

  “You know I’m not.”

  “What about that nice young man, Shane?”

  “And that’s why you’re not my go-to source for deciding who is a nice young man.”

  “I’ll invite Giuseppe,” Gloria said.

  “Who? What happened to Rick?”

  “Oh, Rick? He turned out to be not what I thought.”

  “So now you’re dating Pinocchio’s father?”

  “What? No, Giuseppe. He’s Italian. He’s from St. Louis.”

  “That’s where Italy is? No wonder I do so badly in geography.”

  “What? No, I mean real Italy.”

  ‘“Are you helping him buy a house or something?”

  “Well, well, yes. Of course.”

  I went into the kitchen to check to see if anything edible had fallen on the floor, and that’s when I saw a man standing outside, peering in through the glass doors. I barked the alarm.

  The man immediately turned and ran away. CJ came into the kitchen. “What is it, Molly?” she asked. She went to the door and slid it open and I raced out into the yard. The man’s scent was on the air and I followed it quickly to the closed back gate. I knew that smell, knew who it belonged to.

  Shane.

  CJ called me back into the house. “Come on, Molly; it’s too cold,” she said to me.

  The next time we went to Andi’s, she came over to us as CJ was stomping the snow off her feet. “Hey. I want to try something today.”

  “Sure,” CJ said.

  It was the same game Andi played every day. It did not seem like much fun to me when there were ropes to tug on and balls to chase, but people are like that—their idea of play is usually less fun than a dog’s. People were sitting in chairs spaced wide apart from one end of the big room to the other. Andi had CJ hold my leash and we went to the person at the far end, a woman who had on fur boots that smelled like cats. “Hi, what’s your name?” she said, holding her hand down for me to lick. Her fingers had a tangy taste to them.

  “This is Molly,” Andi said. I wagged at hearing my name.

  We went together to the next person, and the next, at each occasion taking the time for them to pet me and talk to me but not to give me any treats even though I could smell that one man had something with cheese on it in one of his pockets.

  Then we came to a woman whose hands smelled like fish. She leaned over to pet me and I picked up that same scent, the one that was similar to what I couldn’t get off my tongue when I was Buddy, the same scent the bald man who talked to CJ had on his breath.

  “Hello, Molly,” the woman said.

  I felt the slightest bit of tension in Andi as we started to move on, and that’s when I got it: the game, it had to do with this smell. I turned back to the woman and lay down, crossing my paws.

  “That’s it!” Andi said, clapping her hands. “Good dog, Molly, good dog!”

  Andi gave me treats. I decided I loved this game and wagged, ready to play again.

  “So Molly just figured it out?” CJ asked.

  “Well, there’s more to it than that. I think that all dogs can detect the odor, but that doesn’t mean they necessarily connect it to signaling us that they’ve done so. But Molly has been watching Luke—did you see how she crossed her paws, just like he does? I’ve never heard of a dog learning this from watching another one, but there it is; there can’t be any other explanation.” Andi knelt down and kissed me on the nose. I licked her face. “Molly, you are a genius, a true genius dog.”

  “You’re a goodle, Molly,” CJ said. “Part genius, part poodle. A goodle dog.” I wagged, loving the attention.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to involve Molly in the program. You, too, if you’re interested,” Andi said. “It would count toward your community service.”

  “What, and give up shoveling dog poo? I’ll have to think about it.”

  From that day forward, whenever we were with Andi, Molly would lead me to meet people and I would signal whenever I picked up that odd, bad odor. It didn’t happen very often, though. Most of the time, people just smell like people.

  But sometimes, they smell like food! For Happy Thanksgiving CJ and I went to Trent’s house and the air and people’s hands were so redolent with meat and cheese and bread and other wonderful smells that Rocky and I were nearly delirious. People ate all day, tossing us morsels to snatch out of the air.

  Trent had a father and a mother. For the first time, I wondered why CJ didn’t have a father as well. Maybe if Gloria had a mate she wouldn’t be unhappy all the time.

  There was nothing I could do about that, though. I had to content myself with eating Happy Thanksgiving food.

  And I was very content.

  CJ was happy, too. At one point in the day we all gathered against a wall that smelled strongly of smoke and the people all put their arms around each other, full of love. Rocky and I were told to sit and there was a lot of laught
er and bright flashes.

  When we were leaving, CJ hugged and kissed Trent’s mother. “This was the most wonderful Thanksgiving I’ve ever had,” CJ said.

  “Please come every year. You’re one of the family,” Trent’s mother said.

  I smelled tears on CJ’s face, but she was happy and as we drove away she held my head in her lap, stroking me. As I drifted off to sleep, I was thinking about how much the people in Trent’s house hugged each other. I hoped we’d go back there often, because the hugging seemed good for my girl.

  At Merry Christmas time, CJ and Gloria put a tree in the living room and hung cat toys from it. I could smell that tree from anywhere in the house. And one evening people came over and hung lights and cooked food. CJ put on clothes that swished loudly when she moved, and so did Gloria.

  “What do you think?” Gloria asked, standing in CJ’s doorway. She twirled noisily. It didn’t seem possible, but Gloria was even more fragrant than usual. My nose crinkled involuntarily at the flood of odors drenching the air.

  “Very nice,” CJ said.

  Gloria laughed happily. “Now let me see you.”

  CJ stopped brushing her hair and spun. Then she stopped and stared at Gloria. “What?” she said.

  “Nothing, it’s just … Have you put on some weight? It fits different than when we bought it.”

  “I quit smoking.”

  “Well…”

  “Well what?”

  “I just don’t know why you couldn’t control yourself with the party coming up.”

  “You’re right, I should have kept sucking poison because it would help me fit in my new dress for a party.”

  “I never said that. I don’t know why I bother to try to talk to you,” Gloria said. She was angry and walked away.

  Then friends arrived. Trent came but did not bring Rocky, for some reason. Mostly they were people Gloria’s age. I wandered around, smelling warm delicious things, and after a while people started feeding me treats—not for doing any tricks but just for being a dog. They were the best sort of people, in my opinion.

  One woman leaned over and fed me a piece of meat with melted cheese on it. “Oh, you are such a pretty dog!” she said to me.

  I did what I was supposed to do: I lay down on the floor, crossing my front paws.

  “How cute! She’s doing a curtsey!” the woman said.

  CJ came around the couch to see me and I wagged. “Oh my God,” CJ said.

  FOURTEEN

  CJ was anxious and scared. “Sheryl, can I talk to you for a minute? Privately?”

  The woman was still petting me, but I was watching CJ to see what was wrong. “Sure,” the woman said.

  I started to follow them down the hallway, but then CJ turned and said, “Stay, Molly.”

  I knew “Stay,” but it was my least favorite thing to do. I sat for a minute, then got up and went down to sniff under the door where they had gone. They were in there for about ten minutes, and then the door popped open and the woman came out with a hand to her mouth. She was crying. CJ was upset, too, and felt sad.

  The woman got her coat and Gloria came up holding a glass. “What happened?” She looked between CJ and the crying woman. “What did you say to her?”

  CJ shook her head. The woman said, “I’m sorry. I’ll call you,” to Gloria and then was out the door. Gloria was very angry. Trent came up from behind her, looking from Gloria to CJ and then moving past Gloria to stand by CJ. I lifted my nose to touch his hand as he passed.

  “What happened?” Gloria said.

  “Molly signaled the way she’s been trained. For cancer. She signaled Sheryl had cancer.”

  “Oh God,” Trent said.

  Some people had come down the hallway and I heard one of them say, “Cancer? Who has cancer?”

  “And you had to tell her now?” Gloria hissed. She then turned, jerking her head when she saw the people behind her. “It’s nothing,” she said.

  “What happened?” a man asked.

  CJ shook her head. “Just a personal conversation. I’m sorry.”

  The people stood for a moment and then turned away.

  “You only care about yourself,” Gloria said.

  “How does that make sense?” Trent responded, his voice loud.

  “Trent,” CJ said. She put a hand on Trent’s sleeve.

  “Do you know how much money this party cost?” Gloria said.

  “The party?” Trent said.

  “Trent. Don’t,” CJ said. “Just … you know what, Gloria? Give my excuses to your friends. Tell them I’ve got a headache and I’m going to my room.”

  Gloria made a loud noise and then turned and stared at me hatefully. I glanced away from her eyes. She spun and strode off down the hallway, where the people had silently withdrawn. When she got to the end of the hallway she stopped, straightened her back, and tossed her hair. “Giuseppe?” she called into the living room. “Where did you get to?”

  “I’ll get your coat,” CJ said to Trent.

  His shoulders slumped a little. “You sure? I mean, I could stay with you for a while. Talk.”

  “No, it’s okay.”

  CJ went into Gloria’s bedroom and came out with Trent’s coat. He put it on. He was sad. CJ smiled at him. “Hey, in case I don’t see you, Merry Christmas.”

  “Yeah, same to you.”

  “CJ, you do get that your mom’s wrong, don’t you? That you might have upset Sheryl, but you gave her really important information. And if you had waited because you didn’t want to disturb the party, you’d have a hard time ever telling Sheryl at all because, well, it would look crazy that you had waited.”

  “I know.”

  “So don’t let her get to you, okay? Don’t let Gloria into your head.”

  They stood and looked at each other for a minute. “Okay, Trent,” CJ finally said.

  Trent turned and went to the door and we followed. Then he paused and looked up. “Hey, mistletoe.”

  CJ nodded.

  “Well, come on then,” Trent said. CJ laughed as he held out his arms. Trent pressed forward and kissed her and I jumped up and put my front feet on her back so I would be part of whatever was going on.

  “Whoa,” CJ said.

  “Okay, well, good-bye. Merry Christmas,” Trent said.

  I tried to slip out the door with him, but CJ held me back. Then she shut the door and looked at it for a minute, while I looked at her, wondering what we were doing.

  I would have been happy to circulate under the feet of all the loud people in the living room and eat treats, but CJ went up to her room, snapping her fingers for me to follow. She took off her loud clothes and put on what she usually wore: a soft shirt that went to her knees. She got into bed with the lights on, holding a book.

  Books are okay to chew on, though they are fairly tasteless and it always makes people unhappy when a dog does so. They are one of those toys that dogs aren’t supposed to play with.

  I curled up on the floor next to her bed and fell asleep, though I was conscious of the hum of people talking below me and, later, the front door opening and shutting a few times. Then there was a knocking sound and I woke up. The bedroom door pushed open.

  “Hello, CJ,” said a man. I recognized his scent from downstairs. When he had reached down to feed me a piece of fish, his watch slid down his wrist with a heavy sound.

  “Oh, hi, Giuseppe.”

  The man laughed and came into the room. “Call me Gus. The only person who calls me Giuseppe is your mother. I think because she believes I’m from Italian royalty.” He laughed again.

  “Huh,” CJ said. She smoothed the blankets down over her legs.

  The man shut the bedroom door behind him. “So what are you reading?” he asked.

  “You’re drunk, Gus.”

  “Hey, it’s a party.” The man sat down heavily on the bed, his feet on the floor right by me. I sat up.

  “What are you doing? Get out of my room,” CJ said. She felt angry.

  T
he man put his hand on the blanket. “I loved that dress you were wearing. You have great stems. You know what stems are? Legs.”

  The man pulled on the blanket. CJ pulled back. “Stop,” she said.

  “Come on,” the man said. He stood back up, reaching for CJ with both hands. I felt the fear coming off of her and I leaped up and put my paws on the bed and thrust my face at the man and snarled the way I’d gone after Troy the horse when he’d been about to stamp on the baby.

  The man threw himself back and stumbled against the shelf on the wall, books and photographs falling to the floor. He twisted and with a crash fell on the carpet, lying on his side. I barked and lunged forward, my teeth still bared.

  “Molly! It’s okay. Good girl.” I felt CJ’s hand on my fur, which was stiff along the ridge of my back.

  “Hey,” the man said.

  CJ found my collar and pulled me back. “You need to leave, Gus.”

  He rolled and got on his knees. The door flew open and Gloria was standing there. “What happened?” she demanded. She looked at Gus, who was crawling on the floor. He put his hands on the bedpost and hauled himself to his feet. “Giuseppe? What happened?”

  He pushed past her out into the hallway, his footsteps heavy. Gloria turned to face her daughter. “I heard the dog; did it bite him?”

  “No! Of course not.”

  “Well, what is going on?”

  “You don’t want to know, Gloria.”

  “Tell me!”

  “He came in here and started touching me, okay?” CJ shouted. “Molly was protecting me.”

  I turned my head at my name. Gloria turned rigid and her eyes grew large, then narrow and small. “You are such a liar,” she hissed. She turned and ran away just as the front door slammed. “Giuseppe!” she called.

  For the next several days Gloria and CJ never seemed to be in the same room. When they sat down for the part of Merry Christmas where they tore papers and had boxes, they didn’t talk to each other very much. CJ started eating her meals in her bedroom and sometimes it would just be a tiny amount of vegetable and sometimes it would be wonderful plates full of noodles and sauces and cheeses, or pizza and chips, and ice cream. Then she would go into the bathroom and stand on that small box and make a sad noise. Every few hours, every single day, CJ would go stand on that small box. I started thinking of it as the sad box, because that’s how CJ always felt when she was on it.