Say No More

by Sasson, Gemini

  “Hunter, you’re going to choke if you keep singing,” Lise said tersely. “Eat.”

  “Oookay, Mommy,” Hunter replied. A moment later, he peeked under the table and grinned at me. He held his hand out. In his palm lay three glistening nuggets of sugary cereal. I snarfed them down as fast as I could. This was Hunter’s gift to me every morning: a few bits of cereal, a corner of toast, a piece of bacon fat. Sometimes when he had pancakes, he’d dip his fingers in the syrup, then dangle them beside his chair for me to lick clean.

  “Hunter!” Lise scolded. Usually he was good about making sure she wasn’t watching, but sometimes, I think, he just plain forgot.

  Hunter dropped the edge of the tablecloth. “Just saying hi to Halo.”

  “Halo’s fine. You go get ready to go to Grandma’s. It’s supposed to stop raining soon, so she said she’s going to take you to the zoo today so Mommy can get some work done around here, okay? If you’re good, she might even let you pick out a stuffed animal.”

  “Can I have the kangaroo?”

  “It’s up to her. And you have to be good. No wandering off. Now go.”

  Hunter jumped to the floor and hopped out of the kitchen, his hands folded over at the wrists at chest height. It was tempting to follow him, but I figured Lise wouldn’t appreciate me running through the house as wet as I was. Humans were unreasonably obsessed about cleanliness.

  Lise tapped her foot on the floor, then stomped it abruptly. “Really, Cam? Couldn’t you take today off? I was thinking after you dropped Hunter off, you could come back here and we could ... you know, spend some time alone together? You start your new job tomorrow and —”

  “All the more reason for me to be there today,” Cam said. “Look, maybe if I can help him get through this harvest, he and Mom will realize it’s time to retire. He even said it’s getting to be too much for him to handle by himself.”

  Again, bile splashed at the back of my throat. I laid as still as I could, hoping my stomach would settle.

  Lise set her cup down so hard it jarred the table. “You haven’t told him yet, have you?”

  Cam’s foot slid from underneath my chin. As he stood, I clamped my teeth on to his pants leg. I didn’t want him to go.

  He shook me loose. “Stop it, Halo.”

  I balked at the sternness in his tone. Confusion tore at my conscience. Yes, we dogs know right from wrong, although our ideas of such often differ from those of the human species. Obedience wars with instinct constantly. If we are hungry, the trash can is fair game. To eat is to survive. A scolding is small punishment for a full belly. In this case, however I couldn’t explain my need to deter him. Cam went to work every weekday, at least until recently. He went to his parents’ farm frequently, as well. Why should his leaving now be any different? Flattening myself to the floor, I acquiesced.

  Cam walked over to the sink, rinsed his cup and set it on the counter. “Told him what?”

  “Cameron Scott McHugh, you know what I mean. About the transfer to Florence if the new company’s contract gets renewed. We talked about this. You better not be having second thoughts. We’ll be closer to my mom then. Ever since Dad went into the nursing home it’s been rough on her. She needs me there. And we won’t be so far away that we can’t visit your parents on weekends.”

  Cam didn’t reply right away. He gripped the edge of the sink, his eyes fixed on the gray gloom outside the window. “You’re right. She does need you. I’ll tell him today. It’s just ... it’s not easy, you know? There are so many things I like about working on the farm with him. But it is time to move on. Working the land is hard. It’s never ending. You’re never off duty. And the benefits, well, there aren’t any. No paid vacations, no sick hours, no company matched retirement fund ... I want to be able to provide for my family, give you everything you need.”

  She was so quiet in her terry cloth slippers that I didn’t notice her moving from her chair until I heard her voice from further away. She slipped her arms around Cam’s middle, laid her head against his back. “I know it’s hard, sweetie. He probably won’t take it well. But there’s never going to be a good time. It’s just one of those things you have to do. He’ll make adjustments.”

  Cam turned around and drew her close, kissed the top of her hair where it parted. “Thanks.”

  She leaned back to look into his eyes. “For what?”

  “Understanding.”

  He tilted his head. Their lips met. Cam’s hands slipped lower on her back, stroking. Soon, he was cleaning the inside of her mouth with his tongue. Here they go again. I grunted a sigh, stretched my long legs, and yawned.

  Lise grabbed Cam’s hand to tug him toward the hallway. “Ten minutes?”

  He stood his ground firmly. “God, I wish, but I’m late already. Besides, Hunter will throw a fit if I’m not ready to go out the door in less than two. He’s got kangaroos on the brain.”

  Lise grinned mischievously. “If you’re home on time, I just might have a surprise for you.”

  “Cheesecake?”

  “Nope.”

  He arched an eyebrow. “Did you buy that negligee? The one with the —”

  “Nope. Just come home on time. And ask your mom if she could watch Hunter for an extra hour or two. I thought we could go to Leonardo’s. Order that sinful lasagna and some tiramisu, maybe. Maybe a couple of cocktails to wash it all down with.” She pulled up the half-zipper on the front of his hoodie for him, held onto the collar of it like she didn’t want to let him go, either. “Hey, be extra careful today, okay?”

  “You tell me that every time, Lise. I’m always careful, you know that.” He gave her a quick smooch on the cheek and snatched his raincoat off the hook next to the backdoor. “See you later.”

  Just as he grabbed the doorknob, Lise blurted out, “Wait!”

  “What?”

  “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

  “Oh, yeah.” He smacked a palm to his forehead. “Hunter!”

  Hunter sped through the kitchen with his raincoat flaring out behind him. On the back of it was a picture of an elephant holding an umbrella in its trunk. Cam zipped it up, then inspected the inside of Hunter’s mouth to make sure he had brushed his teeth.

  “Something else, Cam?” Lise said.

  He dug his hands in his front pockets, jangled his keys, and patted his back pocket where he kept his wallet. “Naw, I’m good.”

  She tipped her head in my direction, her long blonde hair sweeping across her shoulder as she did so. “What about Halo?”

  “Can’t. I’ll be on the tractor all day. She’d just end up parked in the outside pen, looking like a drowned rat.”

  “Oh, all right. Go. But don’t forget to tell —”

  “I will, promise. And I’ll be back before 6:00. Go ahead and make reservations. Can’t wait to spend the evening with you, sweetie. Love you.” Nudging Hunter out the door, he blew her an air kiss.

  She caught it in her hand, brought her fist to her heart. “Love you, too, Cam.”

  It was my last chance to stop him. I rushed forward to stand in front of him, swayed over the doormat, and regurgitated every last bit of that morning’s kibble in a sloppy steaming heap at Cam’s feet.

  “Eeewww!” Hunter pointed at my offering.

  Cam flipped his hood over his head. “You have fun cleaning that up.”

  The door banged shut behind them. Outside, rain came down in sheets. Lise went to the door, stepped carefully around my pile, and pressed a palm to the glass. In the first puff of air from her lips, her breath fogged the window. She watched as he got in the truck and drove away.

  —o00o—

  Rain pattered on the metal roof of the house again later that day as Lise slipped her feet into a pair of high heels. Sitting on the edge of the bed next to me, she studied her red painted toenails a moment, then kicked her shoes off.

  “Who am I kidding?” she said. “What I need are duck boots on a day like today.”

  She rifled around in
the closet for a minute, before plucking up the dust ruffle of the bed and poking her head underneath. With a disgruntled sigh, she sat back on her haunches. “Dang it, must have given those boots to Goodwill. Now I’m going to have to change my entire outfit.”

  After flipping through her blouses and skirts again, she pulled out a pair of tan fitted slacks and a white silk shirt. From the bottom drawer of her dresser, she dug out a yellow sweater. Holding it up to her front, she twirled around to me. “What do you think, Halo? Will he be suspicious if he sees me in his favorite outfit?”

  I understood humans needed clothes because they had no fur, but why so many of them? And what did it matter what they wore, aside from having protection from the sun or enough layers to keep them warm?

  “I want to save the news until the waiter brings him his Long Island Iced Tea, not just blurt it out when he walks in the kitchen door and sees me all dolled up. It’s not every day that a woman makes an important announcement like this to her husband. You don’t know how hard it’s been to hold it in since Friday. That’s two whole days! Oh, Halo,” — she knelt before me, the clothes draped over one arm, and scratched beneath my chin — “everything is turning out just perfect: Cam has a new job, by next summer we’ll have a new house, bigger and nicer than this one, and soon after that —”

  She flipped her wrist over to look at her watch. “Crap! I don’t have time to change.”

  Flinging the clothes on the bed, she grabbed her strappy heels and raced down the hallway. “I’ll just wear the ugly duck boots until I get in the car. Cam can drop me off at the front door of the restaurant. They have an awning out over the sidewalk. Or do they? Yes, I’m sure they do. Shouldn’t be a problem. Tonight’s going to be perfect. Absolutely perfect. Except for the pouring rain. And the horrendous hair day I’m having. Otherwise, perfect.”

  I trailed after her. Humans think we follow them everywhere out of loyalty, but the truth is we do it because we’re bored. They may be complicated and senseless sometimes, but they do the most interesting things. I was always trying to understand what the purpose was of some of their rituals, though. Like now. Lise popped into the bathroom and studied her face close up in the mirror. Why the constant fascination with appearances?

  “Sloppy job with the mascara, chick. Who did your makeup? A chimpanzee? And look at that hair. My God, did you just walk through a wind tunnel?”

  As she snatched the hairbrush off the counter, the phone downstairs rang. I barely dodged her feet as she spun around and stomped down the hallway again. “Probably those stupid survey people again. Do they ever give up?”

  In the kitchen, she looked at the caller ID. “Oh, it’s Cam’s mom. Seems to think her cell phone is only for emergencies. Probably telling me he’s running late. Well, I’m going to give him grief if he is. He knew tonight was important.”

  Lise tucked her hair behind her ear and put the receiver to it. “Hi, Estelle. Are the guys almost done? I was expecting Cam home by —” She paused, shook her head. “Excuse me? Who is this again?”

  A muffled voice buzzed through the phone. It wasn’t Estelle or Ray, that much I could tell.

  Lise clasped her forehead. She took a step back, her shoulders collapsing with an invisible blow. She stumbled to the nearest chair.

  “Oh, God. Are you sure?” Elbows planted on the table, she cradled her head between her hands, crushing the phone to her ear so I couldn’t hear the voice anymore. “No. That can’t be right. It can’t be. Let me talk to Estelle.”

  Lise sucked in a ragged breath, squeezed her eyes shut. Her knees were bouncing up and down beneath the table. She started to rock back and forth in the chair. Its frame creaked in time with her motions. She stopped abruptly, exhaled loudly. Her words had a hollow tone to them. “She won’t come to the phone? No, I ... This is horrible. So, so horrible. I can’t even fathom ... Is Hunter —?” Another pause. “Oh, thank God. Tell her I’ll be there as soon as I can. Thank you, Officer Diehl.”

  There was a long pause and then a resounding ‘thunk’ as the phone fell from her hand onto the table.

  Sitting near the sink, watching her, I wasn’t sure whether I should go to her, stay put, or flee into another room. Her head folded down against her forearm. A tiny wail leaked from her mouth, hidden in the bend of her elbow. The sound rose to a howl, broke as she gulped in air, then rose again. Her shoulders shook uncontrollably with each sob that gripped her.

  On soft paws, I crept to her. I sat for a minute at her knee, waiting patiently while she continued to cry. Finally, I lifted a paw and tapped her on the foot. Then I pushed my muzzle against her shin and whimpered in sympathy. She sobbed twice more, sniffed, lifted her head to look down at me. Her eyes were puffy, ringed in red. Tears streaked down her cheeks. Her hand drifted down to touch the top of my head.

  “Halo, what are we going to do?”

  Do about what?

  The chair groaned as she scooted it back. She settled down on the floor and wrapped her arms tight around me.

  “Cam is never coming home,” she whispered into my ruff.

  Reaching my front paws onto her shoulders, I hugged Lise and licked away the trail of sadness on her cheeks as her tears wet my fur.

  I will always come home, I wanted to tell her. I will always, always come home.

  chapter 4

  A whimper rose in my throat. The cold had settled deep in my bones. I stretched my paws to reach upward, but I was too short to see through the kitchen door window to inside. Scout was probably warm and asleep in his dog house in the kennels, which was inside the garage. I hadn’t seen him or the other dogs since Lise shoved me out into the backyard an hour ago. I wished I was curled up with Scout, muzzle to muzzle. I’d even put up with him chewing on my ear just to be out of this cold.

  Another frigid wind blasted around me. Shivering, I let out a few woofs, but still Lise didn’t come to let me in. It was the first really cold day I could remember. The wind was brisk and biting, the clouds gray and low. Gently, I scratched at the door, my nails scraping away the paint to leave tiny parallel marks.

  In the distance, a car rolled down the gravel lane, tires crunching over rock. I ran to the gate to see who it was, barking to alert everyone of a visitor. Even the dogs in the kennels joined in with me. I heard Scout’s high yip and Chase’s deep, long bellow, mixed with Cricket’s and Bit’s rapid woofs. Still, no Lise.

  A dark blue Buick stopped just outside the yard. Estelle got out of the driver’s side, blew her nose on a tissue, and wiped at her eyes with gloved fingers. As she walked toward the gate, my barks became a greeting. I kept my eyes on the car, waiting for Ray to step out and walk with her, but he didn’t. He just sat there in the passenger seat, gazing blankly at her through the car window. His face was an odd shade of pale, almost transparent. He raised a hand, waved at her, then leaned closer to the window, his breath fogging it until I could no longer see him.

  Why didn’t he get out and come in with her? Was he sick? Hurt, maybe?

  Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  As Estelle swung the gate open, I backed up, resisting the urge to jump up on her. Unlike Cam or Lise, Estelle and Ray never let their dogs in the house. They never so much as patted me on the head, either. Even though Cam took me to their place many times, I was never allowed inside. If I wasn’t with him while he worked in the barns or the fields, Cam would lock me inside Slick’s pen so I wouldn’t ‘get into trouble’, as he put it. I couldn’t see how my exploring meant I was getting into trouble, but he wasn’t always pleased with what I did to occupy my time, so that was where I went when he was busy. Slick was seldom inside the pen himself. Whenever he was not at work with Ray bossing the cows, he would lie on the front porch, his chin and paws draped over the top step as he surveyed his domain. I was not given such freedom. Yet. Cam had told me I’d have to earn it.

  Today, Estelle was dressed differently. Her stretchy jeans and loose sweatshirt had been replaced by a fitted black skirt and jacket, t
an stockings covering her lower legs. Instead of her white sneakers, she was wearing a pair of black leather shoes, dull and stiff from years of infrequent use. Now that she was closer, I could see that her nose and cheeks were chapped from crying, her eyes rubbed red. She nearly tripped over me as she fumbled to put the key in the lock and open the door.

  I glanced back at the car, still expecting Ray to step out and follow her, only ... he wasn’t there anymore. Gone. Like he’d never been there at all. The window was free of fog, drops of water sliding down the pane like rivers of tears.

  “Did someone forget you?” Estelle said as she nudged the door open with her hip, her hands held above her rounded stomach so as not to contaminate them with dog germs should she accidentally brush against me.

  It wasn’t like her to willingly let me in the house, but I rushed through anyway, glad to be inside. After lapping up some water, I plunked down on top of the register to let the waft of heated air warm my tummy. Her eyes unfocused, Estelle peeled off her gloves and hung up her coat. She lifted the teapot from the stove and ran water into it from the sink faucet.

  “I don’t know why she lets you smelly creatures inside,” she mumbled, her back to me. “It’s hard enough to keep a house clean ... clean with just ...”

  Her words broke apart. She snuffled back tears. “No, none of that, Estelle Ruth Skidmore McHugh. You’re going to be strong today. It’s just that ... Damn you, Ray. You can’t just up and die on me like that. I can’t run that farm by myself. You left two hundred acres of wheat in the field. What am I supposed to do with it? And the corn! I don’t even know how to drive that stupid combine. And Ned Hanson can only take care of those cows and hogs for so long. Damn you for not thinking of me and —”

  A rustle sounded from behind. Lise hovered in the entryway to the kitchen, one hand resting against the doorjamb.

  “Estelle?” Lise said softly.

  The teapot nearly dropped from Estelle’s grasp. She clutched a hand against her mouth, as if ashamed of what she’d said.