A Dog's Journey Page 6

  “We’ve left several messages for her and she hasn’t called back,” the woman said.

  “She’s very busy. She sells real estate.”

  “Well, okay. I want you to give her this, okay?” The woman handed Clarity a piece of paper. “You’ve missed a lot of school, CJ. People are worried about you.”

  “I’ve been sick a lot, I guess.”

  “Give that to your mother. I’ll be expecting her call. Tell her she can call anytime, leave me a message if I’m not there. Understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good-bye, CJ.”

  Clarity closed the door. She seemed afraid and angry. She went into the kitchen and put some things on the table. “Molly, we need ice-cream bars,” she told me. She put a cold, deliciously sweet treat in a bowl for me.

  Clarity sat at the table and ate and ate. I sat, too, staring at her intently, but she didn’t give me any more treats. When she was done she put some papers in a tub under the sink and I could smell the same sweet smell on them and couldn’t understand why she didn’t set them down to lick. People are like that; they discard the most delicious things.

  A little while later Clarity went into her bathroom and stood on a small, flat, square box, bigger than a dog bowl but not as high off the ground. “Two point six pounds? God! I’m such an idiot!” she hissed unhappily. I picked up on her anguish, but she didn’t seem to notice me trying to comfort her.

  She made a ragged sound and then knelt down in front of the water bowl and vomited. I paced behind her, distressed because I could feel her pain and upset. I could smell the sweet scent from the treats she’d eaten earlier, and then she pulled the handle and the smell went away with a whoosh. I wagged my tail as hard as I could, trying to climb on her and lick her, and after a while it seemed to do some good, though she was still a little upset.

  A couple of days later we settled into a routine. Every morning Clarity would leave me alone in the basement for hours at a time, blocked into the little space under the stairs. She would come home and play with me and clean up any messes and feed me for a short time in the middle of the day and would run down the stairs calling, “Molly!” in the afternoon and then stay home until the next morning. She was, I decided, doing school. My boy, Ethan, had done school, too. I didn’t like it any better with her doing it.

  Clarity and I played a game every night: She would block me in the space using the boxes but would stay outside where I could sense her. If I cried or barked, she would slide the boxes and say, “No!” very harshly. If I sat quietly, she’d slide the boxes back and give me a treat. We’d go longer and longer periods of time with me sitting quietly, and every time I got a treat. I came to understand that when I was under the stairs she wanted me to be quiet as long as she was on just the other side of the boxes.

  I didn’t like being alone in there and could think of a lot of other games that were much more fun to play.

  When I had to be there all night I was pretty sure it was a mistake, especially when I heard Clarity go upstairs. Every time I barked, though, Clarity came down and said, “No!” And when I finally just gave up and lay down, she woke me up and gave me a treat. I wasn’t sure what to make of any of it.

  Then one day Clarity said, “Okay, here she comes. Let’s do this, Molly.” She led me down and put me under the stairs. I sat quietly. Then I heard voices and footsteps and knew that Gloria had come home.

  I sat quietly.

  Clarity gave me a big treat and took me for a long walk. I smelled a rabbit!

  When it was dark Clarity put me in the space and I lay down with a heavy sigh. I was quiet, though, and got a big treat and a walk in the early morning.

  “You be good. Stay quiet. I love you, Molly. I love you,” Clarity said. Then she left. I napped for a bit, and then I heard Gloria walking around upstairs. I didn’t know if Gloria knew I was supposed to be fed treats for being quiet.

  Clarity hadn’t shoved the boxes all the way across the space and, when I put my nose to it, I found I could move the bottom box just enough to stick my head through. I wriggled and pushed and strained and then I was through!

  Though I was big enough to climb stairs, it was not easy work to get to the top. The door there was open and just as I reached the highest step the doorbell rang. I heard Gloria move across the floor to open the front door.

  I trotted into the living room, stopping to sniff at a suitcase on the floor that hadn’t been there before.

  “Yes?” Gloria said, standing in the doorway. Air flowing in from outside brought the scent of wonderful grasses and trees but also the strong flowery smell that was Gloria, so overpowering it threatened to choke off everything else.

  “Miss Mahoney? I’m Officer Llewellyn. I’m the truant officer in charge of CJ’s case. Did she give you the citation?”

  I trotted over to say hi to Gloria. The officer on the porch glanced at me as I approached.

  “Citation. Clarity? What are you talking about?”

  “I’m sorry. I need to talk to you. Your daughter has been absent from school too many times this semester.”

  Gloria was just standing there, even though I was right by her side. I put a paw on her leg.

  She looked down at me and screamed.

  EIGHT

  Gloria jumped out onto the porch and I followed her, wagging my tail at both women.

  “That’s not a fox!” Gloria yelled.

  The woman bent down and petted me. She had warm, gentle hands that smelled of soap and also nuts of some kind. “A fox? Of course not, it’s a puppy.”

  “What’s it doing in my house?”

  The woman stood. “I can’t answer that, ma’am; it’s your house. The dog was here when I saw your daughter last week.”

  “That’s impossible!”

  “Well … look,” the woman said, “here’s another copy of the citation, along with a notice to appear.” She handed Gloria some papers. “You’ll need to come to court with your daughter. Understand? Because she’s a minor, you are legally liable.”

  “What about the dog?”

  “Sorry?”

  I sat at the word “dog.” Gloria seemed upset about something, but I thought the nice lady might be good for a treat. I liked nuts of all kinds, even the salty ones that burned my tongue.

  “Take the dog with you,” Gloria said.

  “I can’t do that, ma’am.”

  “So you mean to tell me you’re more concerned about a high school student skipping a few classes than a woman trapped by a dog?”

  “That’s … yes, that’s right.”

  “That’s the stupidest thing I ever heard of. What kind of police officer are you?”

  “I’m a truant officer, Miss Mahoney.”

  “I’m going to file a formal complaint with the police commissioner.”

  “You do that. Meanwhile, I’ll see you in court.” The woman turned and walked away, so no treats.

  “What do I do about the dog?” Gloria yelled at her.

  “Call Animal Control, ma’am; that’s what they do.”

  “All right, I will,” Gloria said. I made to follow her back into the house but cringed when she yelled, “No!” at me. She slammed the door, shutting me out.

  I wandered out into the front yard. It was another nice day. Maybe that rabbit would be outside looking for me. I trotted down the sidewalk, sniffing at the bushes.

  The front yards of the houses on the street reminded me of the home Ethan lived in before he moved to the Farm: they were big enough to play in and often were bordered by shrubs. The air was full of the sweet smell of flowers and all of the growth was lush and full. I smelled dogs and cats and people but no ducks or goats. An occasional car cruised past, stirring the air and adding its metallic and oily odors to the riot of scents.

  I felt a little like a bad dog, wandering free without a leash, but Gloria had set me loose, so I reasoned it must be okay.

  After an hour or so of sniffing and exploring, I heard footfalls comin
g toward me, and a man called out, “Here, puppy!” My initial inclination was to trot right over to him, but I stopped when I saw the pole in his hand, a loop dangling from the pole. He advanced on me, holding the loop out. “Come on; that’s a good girl,” he said to me.

  I could feel that loop of rope around my neck as if it were already there. I danced back.

  “Now don’t run away,” he said softly.

  I ducked my head and made to run past him, but he lunged and then I was twisting on the end of that pole. “Gotcha!” he said.

  I was afraid. This was not right. I didn’t want to go with the man, who pulled me with his pole over to a truck. The line around my neck tightened, forcing my head toward the truck tire, and then he scooped me up and with a clang I was in a metal cage in the back of the truck.

  “Hey!”

  The man turned at the sound of approaching footsteps.

  “Hey!”

  It was Clarity.

  “What are you doing? That’s my dog!”

  The man held his hands out to Clarity, who stood before him, panting. I put my paws on the cage, wagging, delighted to see her.

  “Now wait, just wait,” the man said.

  “You can’t take my dog!” Clarity said angrily.

  The man crossed his arms. “I am taking the dog. We’ve had complaints, and it was running loose.”

  I yipped so she’d know I was right there waiting to be let out.

  “Complaints? Molly is just a puppy. Who complains about a puppy?” Clarity said. “What was she, making people too happy?”

  “That’s not your business. If it is your dog, you can pick it up at the shelter anytime after noon tomorrow.” The man made to move away.

  “But wait! Wait! She’s just…” The tears were flowing down Clarity’s face now. I whimpered, wanting to kiss her sadness away. She put a hand to her mouth. “She won’t understand if you take her. She’s a rescue dog who has already been abandoned once. Please, please. I don’t know how she got out, but I promise you it won’t happen again. Promise, promise. Please?”

  The man’s shoulders slumped. He took in a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “Well … All right, look. Okay, but you need to get her chipped and vaccinated and in a few months spay her. Deal? And then get a license. It’s the law.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  The game of truck was over. The man opened the cage and Clarity reached in and pulled me out. She hugged me and I kissed her face, then looked at the man to see if he wanted a kiss, too.

  “All right,” the man said.

  “Thank you, thank you,” Clarity said.

  The truck drove off. Clarity stood and watched it go, still holding me. “Complaints,” she muttered.

  As she carried me to her house, I could feel her heart beating loudly in her chest. We went through the front door and she stooped, setting me down. A piece of paper was right in front of my nose on the floor and I sniffed it, smelling the woman who had been on the porch a little while ago. Clarity picked up the paper and looked at it.

  “Clarity? Is that you?”

  Gloria came around the corner and stopped, staring at me. I wagged and started to go to her to say hello, but Clarity reached down and picked me up.

  “What? What are you doing?” Gloria demanded.

  “This is Molly. She’s … she’s my dog.” Clarity’s hands were trembling.

  “No, she is not,” Gloria said.

  “Not which part? Not Molly? Or not a dog?” Clarity asked.

  “Out!” Gloria yelled.

  “No!” Clarity shouted back.

  “You cannot have a dog in my house!”

  “I am keeping her!”

  “You can’t say anything to me right now. Do you know what trouble you’re in? I had a visit from the delinquency officer. You’ve been missing so much school that they came out here to arrest you.”

  Clarity set me down.

  “No! Do not put that animal on my carpet.”

  With all the shouting, I shied away from Gloria.

  “It’s a dog. She won’t do anything, she just peed outside.”

  “A dog—are you sure it’s not a fox?”

  “Why? Do you need another coat?”

  I wandered over to the couch, but there was nothing underneath it but dusty smells. In fact, most of the odors in the house were coming from Gloria.

  “It’s going to lift its leg on the couch! I’m calling someone,” Gloria shrieked.

  “Did you even bother to read this?” Clarity said. She rattled the paper in her hand and I watched alertly, wondering if she was going to throw it. “This is a summons for you, you know. You have to appear in court, too.”

  “Well, I’m going to tell them you are completely out of control.”

  “And I’m going to tell them why.”

  “Why what?”

  “Why I was able to skip so much school. You go on trips all the time and leave me without any adults in the house, including when I was twelve years old. By myself !”

  “I don’t believe this. You asked to be left alone. You hated the babysitter.”

  “I hated her because she was a drunk! One time she fell asleep in her car in the driveway.”

  “We’re not having this conversation again. If you’re going to imply that I was in any way a negligent mother then I’ll just call Social Services and you can live in an orphanage.”

  I turned in circles a few times and lay down on the soft rug. The shouting made me anxious, though, and within a few seconds I was back on my feet.

  “Sure, that’s how it works. You just leave me in a box on the front porch and they come by on Tuesdays to pick it up and take me to be an orphan.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Yes. You’re going to call Social Services and tell them you don’t want to be a mom anymore. So then there will be a hearing. And the judge is going to want to know where you were all last week—Aspen—and where you were when you went to Vegas when I was thirteen, and where you were when you went to New York for a month. And you know what he’s going to say? He’s going to say that you need to go to jail. And everyone in the neighborhood will know. They’ll see you getting into a patrol car in handcuffs with your fur coat over your head.”

  “My mother left me alone when I was a lot younger than you. I never complained.”

  “The same mother who beat you with garden tools? Who broke your arm when you were eight years old? I don’t think you would.”

  “My point was, I was fine. You were fine.”

  “Well, my point was, they arrested your mom and they’ll arrest you, too, Gloria. The laws are a lot more strict now. You don’t have to actually send your kid to the emergency room to wind up in jail.”

  Gloria was staring at Clarity, who was breathing hard. “Unless,” Clarity said in a low voice, “you let me keep Molly.”

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “I’ll tell the judge that I lied to you. That I told you I was going to school, but actually I was skipping. I’ll say it wasn’t your fault.”

  “It wasn’t my fault!”

  “Or I can tell him about you leaving me all the time on your little trips with your boyfriends. That’s the deal. I keep Molly and I’ll lie to the judge. If you try to make me get rid of her, I’ll tell him everything.”

  “You’re as horrible as your father.”

  “Oh darn, Gloria. That one doesn’t even upset me anymore. You used it on me too often. So what do you want to do?”

  Gloria left the room. Clarity went over to me and petted me and I curled up on the rug and fell asleep. When I woke up, Gloria was no longer in the house. Clarity was in the kitchen and I arose with a yawn and went in to see what she was doing. A delicious odor was in the air.

  “Want some, Molly?” Clarity asked me. She sounded sad, but she fed me toast. “No honey butter for you, though,” she said. “That’s people-only food.”

  She stood up from the table and opened a
bag and soon the air carried with it the tantalizing smell of more toast. She dropped a toy on the floor and I chased it, my nails scrabbling on the smooth floor.

  “You want the lid? Okay, you can have the lid,” she told me.

  I licked the toy, which had an amazing sweet scent to it, but there was nothing to eat on it. I chewed it. Clarity got up from the table and made more toast, and then more, and then more, while I happily chewed on the toy. Then she stood up. “Out of bread,” she said, throwing a plastic sack into the trash can. I wagged, thinking she would come over to play with the toy, but instead she went to the counter and I heard her open a plastic bag and then she made more toast. She kicked the toy and it slid across the floor and I jumped on it. Every time she got up to make more toast, she would kick the toy and I would chase it. I found that if I put my front paws on it I could slide on it until I hit the wall. What a great game!

  “All gone. Come on, Molly,” Clarity said. I followed her into her bedroom. “You want to sleep on this pillow? Molly?” Clarity patted a pillow and I jumped on it and shook it in my teeth.

  Clarity didn’t want to play, though. She lay on her back with her eyes open. I put my head on her chest and she ran her fingers through my fur, but there was a change overcoming her, a darkening of her mood. I cuddled with her, hoping I could lift her out of her sadness, but when she moaned I knew I was failing. I went to lick her face, smelling butter and toast and the same sweet, sugary tang that had coated the toy, but she rolled away from me. “Oh God,” she said softly.

  Clarity went into her bathroom and I heard her making a choking noise and I smelled the sweet toast. She was vomiting again. Her head was in the water bowl, which she refreshed a few times before standing up and looking at her teeth in the mirror. Then she stood on the small box. “A hundred six point five,” she moaned. “I hate myself.”

  I decided I despised that box for how it made her feel.

  “Let’s go to bed, Molly.”

  Clarity didn’t take me down to the basement—she let me sleep on her bed. I was so excited to be out of that space and back in bed with her that I of course had trouble sleeping, but she put her hand on me and petted me until I got drowsy. I turned around and curled up against her and, as I drifted off, her love flowed into me and my love flowed into her. This was more than just watching over someone out of loyalty—I loved Clarity, loved her as completely and totally as any dog could love a person. Ethan had been my boy, but Clarity was my girl.