“I think that’s our cue,” Tyler grinned. “After you…” he motioned Amanda ahead of him.
Amanda locked her hands behind her neck and turned side-to-side a few times. “It feels good to get the kinks out.” She sat on top of the wooden table and patted the empty space to her right. “Take a load off, Tyler…you’re going to want to be seated when I tell you about Sam.”
Tyler sat beside her, but left a good foot of distance between them. “After what I saw Sam do this morning, I’m not sure if what you have to say can surprise me any more than that did.”
Amanda nodded. “You said that Sam snapped Licker’s neck, right?”
“Yeah…he did…no doubt about that…everyone there heard it.”
“Well…” Amanda began. “What if I told you that…maybe…that didn’t really happen…that…what you think you saw wasn’t actually the real thing.”
“No offense, Amanda, but you’re not making any sense. I thought you had something insightful to tell me about Sam.”
“I do,” Amanda nodded. “And what you think you saw is all part of it; it’s what Sam wanted you to think. Actually, it’s possible that Licker wasn’t really dead at all…”
“I heard his neck SNAP!” Tyler insisted. “You’re trying to make me think I imagined all of what I saw, is that it?”
Amanda touched his shoulder and felt a tingling sensation travel from the tips of her fingers, down her arm, and into the pit of her belly. “No, Tyler…you didn’t imagine it. Let me just spit it out, okay? Let me just say what I need to say, and then…we can discuss it a little more.”
“Oh, this is getting good,” Spartacus grinned and closed his eyes.
“I’m listening…” Tyler encouraged her to go on.
Amanda turned sideways and propped her right knee on the table top. She looked Tyler squarely in the eye and did not hesitate. “Sam is my dog. My father got him for me when I was seven years old, shortly after my mother was killed in a car accident…”
Tyler shook his head. “No, no…wait a minute, how old are you?”
Amanda never took her eyes from his. “I am twenty-three…”
Tyler rubbed his face and squeezed his mouth between his palm. He did the mental math and said, “That would mean that Sam would have to be…”
Amanda raised her brows and puckered her mouth. She nodded and said, “Yep…sixteen…yep.”
“But…he…” Tyler stopped to refocus. “That dog cannot be more than five years old, Amanda; I would have guessed closer to two or three…”
Amanda wrinkled her nose. “Yeah…he looks pretty good for his age, huh? Except that…well, he’s not really sixteen either.” She inhaled a deep breath and released it slowly before she continued. “Tyler…and, please promise you won’t freak out on me when I tell you this…but, Sam died when I was seventeen years old. My Dad and I were with him when he took his last breath; we had him cremated and buried his ashes in our back yard, in my Mom’s favorite flower bed.” When Tyler didn’t respond, she pushed on. “I never saw my Sam again until two days ago…on Monday…when I arrived at the café…”
“I told you this was going to be good!” Spartacus opened his eyes and crawled from beneath the table. He thought the look on Tyler’s face was priceless. “Heh, heh…I wish Sam could’ve been here for this!”
“Tyler?” Amanda lowered her head so that she could see his face better.
Tyler lifted his head and stared at her. “Do…you…honestly…expect…me…to…believe…that? Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”
Amanda nodded in agreement. It would be easier, not to mention more believable, if she could tell him the truth about the angels at the Heavenly Grille Café, but she knew that she could never reveal that particular fact; Max was the only one who could make that decision. She knew how risky it could be if too many people learned the truth about her angels. “Yeah…yeah, I do, actually…”
Tyler was shaking his head. “No, you’re mistaken, that’s all. He’s a black pit-mix…do you know how common that breed is? How many of them are roaming the world as we speak? No…he just looks like your long, dead pet, Amanda.”
Amanda waited for him to collect his thoughts and said, “Actually, Sam has more black lab in him that he does pit…I’m not entirely sure if he has any pit in him at all, but, I can see where you would think that, Tyler, but then…you would still have to explain to yourself how Sam resurrected Licker this morning. You said you saw it with your own eyes.”
“I did…” Tyler mumbled.
“Well…all I’m saying is that there is no doubt in MY mind that Sam is my dog. I believe he is an angel dog who has come back to help out with what’s coming down at the Abbott ranch. Maybe Sam did not really kill that pup this morning, Tyler; maybe it’s just what he wanted you and everyone else to believe. It was important that those other men thought the dog was dead; otherwise, they may have thrown him into that burning pit you talk about, or worse, tortured him even more until he really did die. I can’t say with one hundred percent certainty…yet…whether that’s exactly what happened or not, but I do believe that Sam sort of suspended things for a bit and when the timing was right, he woke Licker back up…or…maybe he really did snap the little booger’s neck and licked him back to life.” She shrugged and offered a weak grin.
Spartacus came out from beneath the table, stood up, and stretched his hind legs, one at a time. He took one look at Tyler’s open-mouth expression and thought, “Oh, Sam…you would’ve loved this!” He finished his stretches and reached out to nudge Tyler’s boot. “Okay, you two, it’s getting late, and I’d really like to get something to eat before going back to that place…what do you say, can we go now, can we…”
Tyler stared at Amanda, opened his mouth as if to respond, closed it, and shook his head. “I need some time to think about what you’ve said, Amanda; and, I need to get you back to the café.” He looked at his watch. “We can get something to eat before Spartacus and I head back to the ranch. As much as I hate to do it, I’m going to have to get him settled and let Abbott know that I found him…before I head into town to meet the inspectors.” He shook his head. “You do know how crazy your explanation sounds, right?”
Amanda shrugged her shoulders again. “If it’s any consolation, crazy doesn’t run in my family, so…our kids should turn out okay!”
_____
Clint wiped his feet and knocked on the massive oak door of the Abbott home. He spat a wad of tobacco juice into the flower bed just as the door swung open.
Little John looked down at the brown liquid mess for a long moment before looking back into his foreman’s wary eyes. “Pick it up…”
Clint wiped away a drop of juice from the corner of his mouth. “What…”
Little John continued to stare at him. There was no doubt to the intentions behind the stare. “I said…pick it up…”
Clint pushed some mulch around the spat juice, bent down, and wadded it up into his ungloved hands. He knew how stupid he must look just standing there, and he resented Little John Abbott for making him feel that way. Big John never would have treated him like this. “Sorry, Boss…”
Little John did not invite him inside his home, nor did he offer up a trash can in which to dispose of the nastiness that Clint held in his left hand. “Did you go through the car like I said?”
Clint nodded. “We just finished. It’s a rental car, but there’s nothing inside it, except the rental contract in the glove compartment. Those guys didn’t bring any identification with them.”
“A rental contract?” Little John asked. “Did you think to look at it to see what names might be on it?”
Resentment was a mild feeling to describe what Clint really felt toward Little John Abbott. Did the man really think he was stupid, or did he just get a kick out of treating people that way? Maybe twenty years was long enough on this job…maybe it was time for Clint to move on to bigger and better things. He bit his tongue to prevent anything that m
ight be interpreted as a retort from erupting. “Tim Smith is the name on the rental contract.”
“Is that right…” Little John mused. Could it be possible that the two men locked in the cabin had been telling him the truth earlier that day? “I checked on them earlier and had a little chat. They said they were cousins…that they were just trying to check out the merchandise before placing their bets for the upcoming fight.”
Clint shifted his weight to the other foot and avoided the temptation to spit out another wad of juice. “You believe ‘em?”
Little John didn’t answer. He just looked over Clint’s shoulder and said. “Just keep doing what needs to be done…for now. What do you have that Jones kid working on today?”
“He’s supposed to be working with the new batch of bait dogs that came in last night, Boss. I’ve been tied up all morning taking care of those trespassers and their vehicle, so I haven’t really had time to check up on him.”
“I’ve got my own ideas about him. I want to see if he can be trusted, so when you see him, you tell him to drive that rental car back to town. Tell him I want him to find out where those two fellas are staying and to go through their room…find out who they really are. One of our dump trucks is parked at the Shell station…oil change supposed to be done on it tomorrow. Give him a spare key to the truck and tell him to drive it back here when he finds out what I want to know.”
“You can’t be serious…” Clint began, but stopped when he saw the deadly, steel glare from Little John Abbott. “Sorry, Boss…but…I thought that we’ve already agreed that the kid can’t be trusted…”
“WE haven’t agreed on anything…last time I checked, I was still in charge of this ranch. I’ve given you a direct order, Clint. I expect you’ll carry it out…tell Jones to report directly to me when he gets back…no matter how late it is…” Little John slammed the door in his foreman’s face.
Clint’s bottom teeth bit hard against his upper lip. He waited until he heard Little John’s receding footsteps; then, he turned to the right and spit an especially large dose of juice back into the prized flower bed, along with the wad he held in his left hand.
21. Heaven - Martin Does Some Research
The more and more I learn about this despicable sport, the more I worry about the heartless souls who find it so easy to carry it out…” Martin mumbled to himself. He was alone in his quiet work space. He placed his hands behind his back and began pacing back and forth, thinking about everything he had learned about the sadistic sport of illegal dogfighting. He had learned that most fights average one to two hours, and did not end until one of the dogs could not, or would not, continue the fight. He learned that the majority of the dogs used in these fights died from exhaustion, infection, blood loss, and/or shock. One of the dogs – named Boomer – had been in a fight where he spent the majority of the time on his back, while the champion fighter broke one of his front legs high up in the shoulder, as well as one of his back legs, at the knee joint. Boomer only had one leg that the champion dog had not broken, and it had been chewed and punctured beyond repair. If that had not been torture enough, the owners had allowed the fight to continue until the champion dog had literally scalped Boomer by tearing a large chunk of skin alongside one of his ears. Boomer had been tossed from the ring, into a pit, and left to take his last breath alone, and in extreme pain. Like Boomer, some of the dogs used for fighting did not die right away; it often took some of them several hours, or even days, to die from their wounds. They all died thinking that this was how ALL mankind treated animals; most of them never knew the loving and kind touch from someone who truly cared about their welfare.
Martin waved his hand and the research vanished from the white screen before him. “I cannot bear to read any more of this today…”
“Excuse me, Mr. Martin, sir…” Andrew Brown cleared his throat. He thought that the angel looked extremely agitated and he felt uncomfortable now, having interrupted him. “I’m sorry to bother you…I can come back later…”
Martin spun around when he heard Andrew speak and quickly spotted the shepherd/lab-mix dog that sat obediently at his side. The dog looked directly into Martin’s eyes, and Martin could have sworn that the dog smiled at him. He stared back at the dog for a few moments before he realized that this dog was the same dog he had been researching a short while ago. “Well…hello there, Boomer! It’s so nice to finally get to meet you. I see you have found one of our caretakers…”
The dog’s coat was magnificent and his eyes and teeth were healthy and bright. His legs were strong and he held his head high with confidence. “It’s nice to meet you, too…” he transferred his thoughts directly to Martin. “I see you’ve read my story?”
Andrew stood quietly and watched while Martin interacted with the dog he had found waiting on his front porch just that morning. They appeared to be having an actual conversation. “Can you understand him, Mr. Martin?”
Martin walked over to Boomer and kneeled before him. He took the dog’s head between his hands and lowered his head to Boomer’s head. “I can, indeed, Andrew. It broke my heart to read about the way he lived…and the way he died…but, that is all in his past now. He’s been here for a while now, but he did not want to leave the Rainbow Bridge. Since he’s with you, I am assuming he found his way to you?”
Andrew grinned and nodded. “Yessir, I found him sitting on the porch this morning. I sat down beside him and he laid his big, ‘ole head in my lap. He’s a beauty, isn’t he?”
“Yes, he is!” Martin shouted and raised his hands upward. “Praise, God…praise, God…” He stood up and placed a hand on Andrew’s shoulder. “So, how are things going for you, Andrew?”
“Well, Mr. Martin…to tell you the truth…if I’d known Heaven was going to be like this, I would have wanted to leave my earthly body a long, long time ago. My Mama and Daddy have decided to move from their own mansion soon and to share mine. It’s just so good seeing them both again. Daddy comes over every day to study God’s word with me and to play with all the pups…last time I counted, there’s 312 dogs and 97 cats on my grounds now…and they all want love and attention. Daddy was always a huge animal lover, so he suggested that we all stay in one place so we could take care of the animals. I just wanted to check in with you and make sure that was alright…I mean, I don’t know all the rules and all…”
Martin laughed out loud. “Oh, my sweet boy…there are absolutely no rules in Heaven! No…there is nothing in writing that says anyone even has to live in a mansion; they can all live out in the open if they so choose…it is their choice. You and your parents are free to go and live anywhere you want, but we knew about your love for animals, so we thought you might want to be actively involved with those who never had a real home on earth.”
Andrew nodded. “I guess I’m having a hard time not thinking about all this as a…job. I feel like I need to be contributing something for being allowed to spend eternity here.”
Martin disregarded that idea with a forward flick of his wrist. “Nonsense…no, no, no. It’s true, though, that everyone is very productive in Heaven, but that is of their own choosing. There are no jobs, no time clocks, no reports to fill out, nothing of the sort. Your…job…if you want to call it that is to simply continue your studies about your Maker and Heaven, so that you will be prepared to help all the souls who arrive during the Rapture and afterwards. It’s going to be a very hectic and busy time up here when that happens, and everyone is going to have to pitch in and help. In the meantime…you should continue to care for and love these lost, abandoned, neglected, and abused animals. When they are ready to leave your sanctuary, they will choose their own heavenly fur-ever family with whom they will spend eternity.”
Andrew nodded again. “That’s pretty much what my Daddy said, too, but I just wanted to double-check with you. I am so thankful for everything that’s been given to me here…I don’t want anyone to think I take things for granted…know what I mean?”
“I do,
yes…and nobody thinks that, Andrew. Your heart is pure…you were a good man on earth and you are an even better man in Heaven. Things are so perfect here, I can see where it might be easy for people to eventually take things for granted, but so far…no one has.”
Boomer walked over and licked Martin’s hand. “I sure don’t take anything for granted. This place rocks!”
Martin smiled at the dog and said, “Well…yes…I guess it does, Boomer!” He looked back at Andrew. “Anything else on your mind, Andrew?”
Andrew grinned. “No sir, just wanted to check with you about sharing the mansion with my parents. Oh…did I tell you that I met the parents of my friend, Amanda? You probably already know that, though, huh?”
“No, I didn’t know you had met Regina and Stephen…contrary to popular belief, I do not keep tabs on everyone!” Martin laughed out loud. “I have enough to do just keeping an eye on our own little naughty angel”
Andrew met Martin’s laugh with one of his own. “You must be talking about Miss Bertie.” He nodded his head again. “She’s one in a million, alright.”
“So, Andrew…where did you meet Amanda’s parents?”
“At the community Bible study meeting last night. They said they thought they recognized me ‘cause they had seen me and Amos on one of your screens here a couple of years ago. They wanted to thank me for being nice to their daughter.”
“They are fine folks,” Martin said.
Andrew cleared his throat. “Mr. Martin…they said that they get to see and talk to Amanda through her dreams?”
“Yes, that is true,” Martin acknowledged.
“Well…I was wondering if all of us can do that…I mean…can we appear to those we left behind in their dreams?”
“You’re hoping you could do the same to Amos, I’m guessing…right?”
Andrew sighed deeply. “Oh, I would give anything to see my brother again…twins share a very special bond, you know. I would just love for him to know that I ain’t in any pain no more and that I love and miss him.”
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