AMELIA
Five years later…
It’s when I get home I know something’s wrong. Every time is always the same. I get in and Rex shoves himself against my legs, brushing up against me with his tail thumping on the wall.
He stops me from making it through to the kitchen until I’ve given him a fuss.
“I’ve been gone for like twenty minutes.”
He always acts as if I’ve been away for years and might never come back. He doesn’t eat while I’m out. He saves it. It’s like he doesn’t know how many weeks his food might have to last. He’s always been like that.
Ever since he came to me.
Until today.
Today I get home, trying to balance two bags of groceries in one hand so I can get the door unlocked with the other. I turn the key and shove the door open, knowing he’ll be there, tail thumping, grinning up at me in that way he does.
No sign of him.
“Rex?” I call out. I hear a thump from the lounge. I drop the bags of groceries and head through.
He’s laid on his side and I can tell at once he’s not well. He manages another thump of his tail, but he’s not getting to his feet.
“Hey boy,” I say as I kneel beside him. “What’s up? You not feeling so good?”
There have been signs for a couple of weeks. For someone who licks his food bowl clean, he’s been leaving a few biscuits here and there. Not drinking as much. Not bounding around the park on walks but staying by my side, taking it slow and steady.
I thought it was just a sign of his age. He wasn’t a young dog when he came to me and it’s been how long since then? I work it out. Five years.
Jeez. Really?
“Just stay there, all right,” I say. “Take it easy.”
I feel my way along his flanks. Distension near the stomach. Please don’t let it be a torsion. I grab my cellphone and give Moira a ring. She doesn’t answer. “It’s Rex,” I tell her machine. “Something’s not right. I’m bringing him over.”
I scoop him into my arms, not a straightforward task given the size of him. Leo Rossi might have carried him into the shelter like he’s nothing at all, but I’m not built like that. I struggle but I manage, carrying him out to the car.
“Shit,” I say out loud. I need the back open. I put him down as gently as I can. He just looks up at me and whines, a noise that stabs deep into my heart.
“Hold on,” I tell him, getting the trunk open and flattening out his blankets. Then I scoop him up and get him inside.
“Hold on there, buddy,” I tell him, and my eyes are watering. I swallow down the emotion. I need to see clearly to get him there safely. I sniff instead, slapping my face before starting the engine.
“Keep it together,” I tell myself, setting off along the road and glancing back. I can’t see him. He’s laid down out of sight. I hope he’s going to be okay. It’s probably not a torsion. If it was, he’d be in agony. He wouldn’t be able to thump his tail.
I’ve seen dogs try to bite for the first time when they’ve got a twisted bowel. By all accounts, it’s an excruciating way to die. It’s not that. It can’t be that. He’s not drooling. He’s not refusing to lie down. It must be something else. But what?
I race to Moira’s. The sheriff spots me tearing past him and comes after, lights flashing. I don’t pull over. I’m nearly there.
I turn the corner and pull up outside Moira’s. I remember the night I found her here, almost bleeding to death on the floor of the waiting room.
Images flash into my head. The ambulance journey. Her going straight into theater. The forms, filling them in on her behalf. Hoping she has enough insurance to pay for all this. Going home to try to get some sleep.
Finding the note and Rex in my kitchen. You owe me a debt. Details of what Cam signed. The son of a bitch. Rex thumping his tail as I put the note down. Happy to see me like he’s been every single day since then.
Nothing came of the supposed debt, so I put it out of my mind. Forgot about it, eventually.
“Please don’t let it be a torsion,” I tell myself as I climb out of my car and run to the trunk.
Louie is walking over, already talking. “You can’t go driving that fast, Amelia.”
“Not now,” I snap, scooping up Rex and running into Moira’s. If he’s going to write me a ticket, he can. I don’t give a shit. I call out for Moira.
“In here,” she yells back. “Just sewn up old man Marley’s beagle. Maybe he can stop eating so many rubber bands.”
As I walk down the corridor toward her, she comes out of the operating room, pulling surgical gloves off her hands. “What’s this?” she asks, her expression changing. “Is that Rex?”
“Swollen stomach. Hard. Can’t walk.”
She looks at me and nods. “Get him in the exam room.”
Louie’s in the doorway behind me, still talking. “I’ve got to talk to you, Amelia,” he says.
“Not now!” Moira yells, and she’s loud enough for him to take a step back. Even Rex flinches.
“I’ll… I’ll wait through here,” he says, walking into the waiting room.
I take Rex through and lower him onto the steel table. He thumps his tail and as he does so, his eyes shut. “Is he…?” I ask.
She shakes her head, running a stethoscope down his chest. “Still with us,” she says, listening hard. I pace up and down, wanting to do something, but I can’t.
“Go wait in there,” she says. “I can’t concentrate with you doing that.”
“Is he dying?”
“Go!”
I leave. I don’t want to go, but I know she’s right. She can work better without me hovering over her. Rex knows her well. He’s been here for his checkups ever since he was left with me. I head through to the waiting room and Louie’s flicking through a sewing magazine.
He sees me and tosses it aside, grabbing a classic car mag and acting like he was reading that.
“Listen,” he says, looking up at me. “You can’t drive through red lights at that kind of speed. I’m going to have to give you a ticket.”
“My dog’s sick,” I tell him. “If you couldn’t work that out, maybe you shouldn’t be a sheriff.”
“Oh,” he says, putting the magazine down, getting to his feet, and throwing his arms around me. He crushes me to his chest. He smells of sweat. “I’m sorry.”
I let him hold me, but I feel nothing. I’m numb. He lets go of me. “Is he going to be all right?”
“I don’t know. Moira’s looking at him.”
He coughs and then shifts his feet. “Listen, just slow down, all right.
We’ll call this a warning.”
“Thanks, Louie.”
“And maybe when he’s better, maybe we could go take him for a walk somewhere sometime.”
I give him a look. “Are you seriously picking now to ask me out?”
“No, I mean, I should get going.” He walks past me without looking me in the eye. I wait until he’s gone before sinking into a chair. I don’t know how long I’m sitting there.
I see the spot where I found Moira, covered in blood, face so pale I was sure she wouldn’t survive. Leo running out of the room.
The last thing I said to him was, “Where are you going?” He didn’t answer. He just left. I haven’t seen him since.
I think about the casino chip. I haven’t cashed it in. He told me to keep it safe. I did. He never came back. I was always tempted to go get the money but it didn’t feel right. It would have felt like stealing.
I look at the clock. Ten minutes have passed. It feels like I’ve been sitting here for a year. Please let Rex be okay.
I pray he’ll be all right. It wasn’t the way I’d have chosen to get a dog, left in my house by a man who vanished. But I’m glad he came along.
He’s been my closest friend ever since, making sure anyone passing the house knows he’s there, sending them on their way with growls and yips. Follows me to the bathroom, his nose poking through the gap in the door.
Never comes in. Thinks he might get bathed if he does. But thinks I might be scared in there, so brings me one of his toys, dumps it through the door while I’m brushing my teeth or sitting on the toilet.
I need to stop thinking about the damned dog. I need to distract myself or I’m going to go crazy.
I could tell Molly. Get her to reassure me.
Why make her worry? She’s got enough shit to deal with. She doesn’t need my dying dog on top of everything else. She’s been working the late shifts over at the diner. Sleepy time slot, midnight until eight.
I asked her once if she ever got any customers, but she said I’d be surprised. Truck drivers, deputies on their way into the mountains. Early morning sailors and fishermen.
All of them coming to eat and gossip while she piles up the tips, saving to buy her own place someday.
Right now she’ll be catching up on some much-needed sleep. I don’t want to disturb her. Besides, he might be fine. I might be worrying over nothing.
I don’t want Rex to die. He’s been such a comfort to me.
Sometimes, late at night while I’m trying to sleep, one arm down the side of the bed, stroking his soft fur, I think of his owner. His proper owner.
Over time, his face has become darker, angrier. No humor there. No light. An intensity and a danger that runs through him like electricity. In my head I picture him coming back sometime, kicking open the door, and bursting into my bedroom.
Only this time I haven’t got a gun. This time I’m helpless. He grabs me and throws me onto the bed. That’s when I know I’m thinking about him too much. Sometimes, in those thoughts, he scares me. Sometimes, just sometimes, I feel different things.
That’s when Rex goes to sleep on the landing and I shut the door, rummage in my drawer for my vibrator. It’s only a fantasy, right? No harm there. I lay back and think of Leo, and those are the nights I get to sleep easily.
A shadow falls over me. I look up and Moira is standing there. She’s not looking happy. “Is he dead?” I ask. “What is it?”
She comes to sit beside me, taking my hand in hers. She speaks matter of fact but there’s a warmth in her voice I appreciate.
“He’s just an old dog,” she says. “The lump’s cancerous and it’s been building below the surface for some time.”
“But it’s so big. Shouldn’t we have seen it sooner?”
“It happens this way sometimes. They come up almost overnight.”
“Can’t you operate?”
I’ve X-rayed him and it’s everywhere, Amelia. I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t do any good. It would just hurt him.”
“Oh.” I can’t think of anything else to say. I’m numb again. “How long?”
“A couple of weeks, maybe. I’ve given him something for the pain and he’s all right in himself. Responded to his name, knows who I am.”
“Do you have to put him to sleep?”
“Maybe, but not yet. He’s got a little while yet. The best thing you can do is make him comfortable. If you like, he can stay here with me. That way I can keep him dosed up whenever he needs it.”
I nod, but I’m not listening anymore. I don’t know how the rest of the conversation goes. I blink and I’m in my car driving home. The tears are coming again and this time I let them. By the time I get home, I’m a mess.
There’s his blanket by the fire and it looks wrong without him on it. I kneel beside it and run my hands over it. He’s not coming back here. The thought hits me with the force of a punch to the stomach. He’s never coming back.
I blink again and I’m sobbing in bed, curled up on my side. He’s dying. I should have noticed the lump sooner. It’s my fault. Again. My cellphone beeps and I pick it up, certain it’s Moira telling me he’s gone. It’s not. It’s from Molly.
How you doing, sexy lady?
I don’t reply. I get out of bed and head into the bathroom. I look a mess. I
wipe my eyes and blow my nose before going back to bed. I feel like i might never get out of it again.