by Amy Shojai
Shadow ambled over, but instead of asking for attention from Lia, he cold nosed all of Karma’s tender spots. That was his right, since he was bigger and older than she was. Karma managed to hold still a few seconds before she just had to snap at Shadow’s muzzle so that he’d let her up. She might be young, but Karma was brave and in charge, and she let Shadow sniff because . . . Well, because he was Shadow. He’d even let her sniff him. Once. She licked the bigger dog’s face.
“Grandfather has put us on a deadline, so it’s game on.” Lia levered herself upright with a groan, and limped from the office into the kennel area.
Karma liked the game word, but she followed only a few steps. She whined at the door, leery of the scary place where trees fell through roofs and bad men made Lia cry. Karma remembered biting the bad man. It hadn’t been as much fun as she thought.
Hearing good-dog was the best. When Lia called her good-dog it made Karma hungry to learn more, and more, and more. Maybe she’d learn as much as Shadow! Wouldn’t that be fine?
At the happy thought, Karma bounced around the small room, chased her tail for three turns, and then looked up at Shadow. He wagged his tail again, then moved into a sudden forward bow, dancing each foreleg back and forth in clear invitation to play. His hurts had started to heal and his legs weren’t shaky anymore.
Delighted, Karma agreed to join the game—dog games were as good as people games, even without treats—and the black shepherd leaped away, dodging her advances. He stumbled into the wooden step stool holding the broken door closed. It jarred a few inches, and the door cracked wider to allow cold wind to whistle inside.
Karma remembered the big yard with lots more room to run and sniff grass and play chase. Outside sniffs painted pictures inside her head of hidden furry creatures that promised contests Karma wanted to win. She yapped and pranced forward, sticking her blunt muzzle into the gap and levered the door open. Karma liked opening doors. She’d gotten very good at it. She trotted outside, head up to drink in the breeze, and noticed the fence didn’t reach this far. With no barriers, the entire world of sounds and smells beckoned.
Lia came back into the room, and gasped when she saw Karma outside. “Wait!”
Shadow flinched like the word was a slap, but he pushed his way through the opening to join Karma. They stood shoulder to shoulder, and when Shadow walked toward the road, Karma couldn’t resist following for a few paces.
“Please, wait.” Lia stood in the doorway. She took a limping step toward them but didn’t come any further.
Karma wished the girl would chase them. Dogs could outrun people with their pitiful two legs, and Lia still limped from her hurts. Even so, Karma never tired of the game. She looked back at Lia, and barked, tail quivering at the thought of the chase game to come.
But the shepherd kept walking. Even with his injuries, Karma knew Shadow could outrun her. She took two steps after him, but sudden thunder made Karma yelp. She remembered the snakes, the sky flashes, and the hungry flood, and outside adventure lost its appeal. She wanted to squat-and-pee, but didn’t.
Because she was Karma! A brave good-dog. So she squared her shoulders, like Shadow, and ignored the prickled sensation of raised hackles she couldn’t control. She wanted to be with him, to follow him.
She didn’t want Shadow to go. Karma barked again. She grabbed up her lamb-toy, and offered it to him.
He paused. Karma wriggled with delight when he padded back toward her. She dropped the toy, and they nose-touched and she licked his chin. And then he grasped Karma in his massive jaws, and push-carried her back to Lia’s feet, and left her there.
Karma let him, relaxed and trusting. Because he was Shadow.
Lia knelt and gathered Karma to her with her uninjured arm.
No! Shadow couldn’t leave her behind. Karma struggled, and yelped, wanting to reach him.
The girl held out her injured hand to him. An invitation.
Shadow stared into Lia’s face for a long moment. Her eyes widened, and she half smiled with sad recognition as if hearing a whispered farewell. Then he moved forward for one more nose-touch with Karma. Shadow whirled, dashed to the muddy, flooded road, and limped away.
Lia stood for a long moment in the doorway, staring after the mysterious warrior dog. She called into the night, “Aloha `oe. Safe journey home, and mahalo.” She grabbed up the lamb-toy, sat down in the doorway and pulled Karma onto her lap with soft whispered words and gentle touches. “My brave Karma-girl, I’m so sorry. But Shadow doesn’t need us anymore. He has someone waiting for him, and has to find his own way home. And so do we.”
Karma licked the girl’s face, tasting salty wet that rained from Lia’s eyes. She whimpered, and licked Lia again. It didn’t hurt so bad once she realized they shared the same hurt. Because they were together.
This time she didn’t struggle. Karma welcomed the girl’s embrace. She sniffed the stuffy and felt comforted by the lingering scent of Shadow. People were confusing, but she’d figured out what hugs meant, when they came from a good-dog’s person. Love.
Chapter 27
“Mom, can I borrow your car?” September stood beside the polished marble countertop, feeling about fifteen years old. It sucked not having a car. Or a house.
“Sit down. Eat your breakfast, dear, you’re thin as a rail. It’s only been a few days, and the doctors made me promise you’d rest.” She poured coffee into two delicate china cups, and carried them to the table.
September drank hers in three swallows. She grimaced at Mom’s frown of disapproval. “I drink two full pots of coffee every morning. You know that.” She retrieved the coffee carafe, refilled her tiny cup, and set both on the table before taking her seat. “I’ll get a big coffee mug when I go out.”
Little things, like losing her favorite Life’s a Peach coffee mug, continued to remind her of how much she’d lost. “I need to pick up my cello from the theater. And I want to visit Macy at the vet since you won’t let me bring him here.”
Her cat and the cello were all she had left.
“You know I’m allergic.” Mom sipped her coffee, and toyed with her eggs Benedict. Rose’s allergies excused anything she didn’t like. “I need the car all morning for my spa day. I’m visiting Steven to talk about the newspaper feature. My grandson, the hero! He’s so talented, but then all my grandchildren are special.” She chattered on, enraptured by the notion he’d saved another boy with his computer skills.
Yes, he found the boy, and not Shadow. She hid ready tears behind another jolt of coffee. She had to accept the painful reality that Shadow was gone.
“I could stop by the theater on the way home, I suppose.” Mom took a bite of egg, chewed exactly six times, and swallowed. “Perhaps Steven will want to visit the director. He’s so handsome, don’t you think? We’re very fortunate to have such a talent here in Heartland. It’s a shame you’ll miss the closing weekend performances.” She offered a tight smile.
The old refrain ran unspoken beneath Mom’s chatter. September wasn’t married. September preferred animals to kids. Two strikes. And she’d denied her musical gifts—well, until Mom convinced her to try again. So count that two strikes and a half.
“Guess I’ll ask Dad when he gets home.”
“He needs his car for work. Really, September, what’s your hurry? Heavens, I’d think you’d welcome some downtime after everything you’ve been through. Might be time to think about getting a real job. After all, Steven doesn’t need a service dog anymore.” And neither should you, she implied.
“Like you don’t need a sister anymore?” The words came out of their own volition. “I didn’t even know you had a sister.”
Mom’s smooth brow furrowed, and lips pressed into a thin white line. One fluttering hand went to her throat. “I’m not talking with you about this.” She stood, grabbed her half-eaten breakfast, and carried it to the sink.
“Why not?” Hurt fueled her words. September followed, carrying her own uneaten meal. Mom knew she prefer
red plain Jane scrambled eggs, not these pretentious restaurant recipes. Everything with Mom had to do with appearances. Her home, her family, her looks, all orchestrated to seem perfect to the outside world. September’s recent public strife reflected badly, but now a secret sister appeared. Maybe Rose wasn’t perfect after all. “What happened between you and Aunt Cornelia?”
“It’s none of your business!” Mom grabbed the plate and dropped in the sink, then grasped the edge of the counter, her breathing heavy. “None of it matters anymore. It’s a dead issue, and has nothing to do with you.” She straightened, smoothing her hair. She painted on a forced smile. “I need to get ready. Please straighten up for me?” Without meeting September’s eyes, Mom flounced out of the kitchen, kitten heels clicking on the tile.
September rinsed the plates, ran the disposal and loaded the dishwasher. She drank two more tiny cups of coffee before rummaging in the cupboard and finding a soup mug to use instead.
Her phone rang again. September answered without looking. “My mom says she’ll pick up Harmony later today.”
“Who? Is that you, September?”
“Combs, oh it’s you. Sorry.” With a clink, she managed to place her makeshift mug on the counter when her hand started to tremble. “My cello, Harmony, is still over at the theater. The orchestra director keeps calling, twice already this morning.”
“Oh, right.”
“How are you? I mean, have you had any rest at all? The news reports massive damage all over the county.” September hadn’t been back to her house yet. She needed to figure out whether to repair, rebuild or relocate. Much would depend on the state of the building, and what insurance would pay. “Mom and Dad’s house had a couple broken windows and may need new shingles, but otherwise, they were lucky.”
“It’ll be months before things get back to normal, if they ever do.” He paused, and added, “How’s life with Mom and Dad?”
She snorted. “Just as you’d expect.” But at least she’d suffered no flashbacks. Until she could get a new car and find a place for her and Macy, she’d grin and bear living with her folks.
Combs cleared his throat. “I’ve got some good news.”
Her heart thrummed, but then settled as he continued.
“They found Sunny Babcock trying to cross into Mexico.”
“Oh wow. She survived.” The killer escaped the flood, when poor Shadow drowned rescuing the innocent. “Listen, this is hard for me, but I have to ask you something.”
“September, I can’t talk details about open investigations.”
“No, not about that.” She pushed coffee color hair out of her eyes. She winced when her hand touched the still tender bald spot at the crown. “It’s about volunteering me to evaluate that police dog.”
“Lia Corazon’s puppy? September, I didn’t volunteer you to do anything.” She could imagine him cracking his knuckles as he paced back and forth. “Uncle Stanley found out about your experience with police dogs when we needed his help with that investigation last November.”
“Oh.” Combs lost his mom—Uncle Stanley’s sister—last Thanksgiving in the debacle where she’d first met the detective. “You didn’t volunteer me? Then how come Mr. Corazon—”
“They’re friends, and Corazon called him for a favor.” His tone turned dark. “But Corazon saw you at the hospital and approached you before we could tell you.”
The tension in her neck evaporated. He hadn’t shared her secrets with strangers. Everyone had secrets, private horrors they kept locked away.
Before she could reply, Combs spoke again. “Let me make it up to you. Please. I meant no harm. Let me take you to dinner, okay?”
She grinned. “You mean, a real date? A for real, dress-up adult-type date? Why sir, I think we’re way overdue.” She disconnected and continued to smile as Mom came back into the room.
“Did I hear right? You’ve got a date? With that nice orchestra director.” Mom fairly clapped her hands with excitement.
September laughed. “You heard right, I’ve got a date.” If Rose wanted to keep old painful secrets, then September figured she deserved a happy new secret.
“Well then, hurry up, you’re coming with me. It’s spa day, and my treat. We’ve got to do something with your hair.”
Chapter 28
Shadow limped in fits and starts down the road. After two days on the road, his hurts kept him tethered to a slow trudging pace. Moon glow lit the path ahead, and the sky noise had stopped but balmy temperatures had turned bitter. The cold made wet ground crunchy, and ice-capped water still overflowed pathways that forced detours along the way.
At first, he wasn’t sure of the way, just that he must get away from Karma and the girl. Both treated him with kindness, and Shadow knew that the girl wanted him to stay. He liked her well enough. But he belonged with September. He’d tried to wait—Shadow felt stronger with food in his belly—but she hadn’t come for him, so he must go to her. September might be hurt, too, so it was up to a good-dog to take care of family. Only by finding her would the achy spot deep inside be soothed. At the thought, Shadow whined low in his throat, and then shook himself, hard, to focus his purpose.
He must pace onward, slow to a walk if needed, but place one paw forward time after time. Head down, tongue lolling, eyes half closed, but moving, always moving onward toward home.
Now and then, Shadow paused to look up at the night sky, and adjusted his path. Shadow didn’t think about why, it just felt right. He moved in wide concentric sweeps, in the same way he’d track the missing, and adjusted each sweep deeper toward his goal. By the time the sun streaks chased clouds from the sky, he’d traveled far from Lia and Karma.
No cars met him on the car-path, either. Shadow liked cars. They moved much faster than a dog could run. Many trees blocked the path, though, and Shadow didn’t think cars could climb over and around them the way dogs could. Strangers sometimes gave tired dogs a ride, but they often took dogs the wrong way. When Shadow heard a car come near, he hurried off the shoulder and hid in the damp underbrush. Men got out, and hooked lines to fallen trees to bully limbs out of the roadway. They ate smelly sandwiches while they worked. Shadow licked his lips at the bacon scent, but he made no sound until they went away. Better that he keep going on his own than risk being driven farther away from September.
He limped a couple of steps and stopped to lick and nibble burrs from between two toes. His empty tummy grumbled. Shadow drooled at the memory of the treats Lia offered freely, but a different, deeper hunger drove him on. He never rested for long, and pushed beyond exhaustion. Home beckoned.
Shadow stopped to quench his thirst from a roadside puddle. He flushed a flock of birds picking at something, and they scattered in the wind. The birds cursed him, and he hunched shoulders against their static, but wasted no energy returning their cries. September didn’t like it when he found dead creatures. He always rolled on them, but September wasn’t here to say “drop it.” He sniffed the rich leavings, wrinkling his lips.
Before he could gulp down the gift, fur and all, another creature rushed him, snarling and vicious. His tired reflexes couldn’t save him when the coyote grappled his shoulder and neck, reopening the recent wounds. Shadow screamed, and recoiled, but the more experienced predator scooped up the pungent squirrel and sprinted away. Lesson learned, Shadow moved on, wasting no further energy on the lost cause.
By late in the third day, he’d swept back and forth dozens of times in a many-mile zigzag pattern plodding always in an easterly path. The sun had fallen to the horizon when the breeze changed. Shadow’s head came up, ears twitching at the familiar sound carried by the wind. There! Again it sounded, pure and real, a beacon he’d sought all along.
The tracking pattern no longer needed, Shadow set off cross-country to reach home as soon as possible. He picked up the pace, forgetting the pain in his bruised paws, and huffed and panted faster and faster. Whines came faster, too. Shadow couldn’t help it. He smelled home! He heard home!
September waited for him! She’d be at the front door, open her arms, call him “good-dog”, and smooth his ears. He cried with longing.
Through the last field, Shadow dodged past regiments of cedar trees that blocked the view of the big house once guarded by the strong metal gate that now hung askew. He barked, and barked again, but his voice failed him. He raced to reach the house.
The house looked different. He stopped with a whimper, cocking his head from side to side. The moon shine turned the scene to dark and light, and everything familiar turned inside out.
The roof no longer covered the house, and brick tumbled down one wall and across the lawn. An open front door yawned like a hungry mouth without teeth making Shadow shiver when he realized the house stood split in two, leaving the inside open to the weather. The smaller building for the car was gone, too, scrubbed clean by wind and rain.
Shadow crept closer, fearful the clear sky might again throw trees at a good-dog. He sniffed the broken gate and picked his way with care through the scattered debris. Shivers wracked his body when he climbed the steps to the open front door, testing the air inside before daring to cross the threshold.
Nobody met him at the door. Smells of many strangers teased the air, making the fur on Shadow’s hackles bristle with alarm. He padded into the house and up the stairs to the sleep-room he shared with September. But the stairs ended midway up. He scrambled back down, taking another route through the jumbled office furniture to reach the kitchen. Here, three walls still stood, the fourth open into the back garden where the scent of roses floated in the moist air. The clank and clatter of wind chime music, the beacon calling him home, still moved and danced in the breeze.
In this room, he could still detect traces of September, and of Macy-cat. The stale scents, though, told of days gone by. Shadow’s home sat empty, abandoned. Maybe September waited for him outside in the garden. They’d spent many hours together digging in the dirt. One of the roses hung down from the sliver of roof that remained, transplanted by the storm. Had September been uprooted and thrown somewhere she didn’t belong?