One Man's Opus (Book 3): Opus Adventure

by Craven III, Boyd

  “Kota!” Owen told her seriously.

  “Yes, Miss Dakota, so Opus is coming back here soon. After Daddy changes your britches, we’ll get you some good food, ok?”

  “Bar?” he asked, sticking a finger deep into his mouth.

  I grinned. He had molars coming in and had been a drool monster for a bit last night. Neither Tina and I remembered when they’d started coming in, but he hadn’t complained.

  “You know what, how about you walk with me? We’ll take the two furballs with us and see if we can get Sarge to use the bathroom again.”

  “Wan bar!” Owen said, sliding to the ground, looking at the door with a serious face.

  “Daddy will get you one,” she said over the sound of her stomach rumbling.

  I picked him up and Supermanned him, making him laugh. I stopped when I saw Tina’s exasperated face and put him down. She still scowled and I realized she wasn’t staring at me, she was looking at the window. Somewhere, somebody had lost a potted plant. Muted by the sound of the storm and the air conditioning, the plant minus pot had blown onto the window. The rain and wind had smeared the dirt momentarily, but it was getting quickly washed away.

  “Do you think we’re safe up here on this floor?” Tina asked.

  “Yes, but if you’d like… I can…”

  “No, that’s fine,” Tina said.

  I wasn’t sure what I was going to offer to do for her. The last nurse had taken her IV out, and she was technically free to move about the room but was tired and hadn’t slept well with the bed thief.

  “If it gets too bad, go in the hallway, yeah?”

  “I will, don’t be such a worry wart!”

  I gave her a little wave and walked over to pick up both leashes. Sarge ducked and ran to Tina’s side of the bed where he tried to crawl up.

  “You don’t want to go?” she cooed to him.

  “I’m not going to make him, but I figured he could take care of business before the storm gets worse.”

  Sarge let out a low wine and put his front paws on the bed and crawled up, laying out next to Tina. The sight made me both sad and smile at the same time. Ophelia had done much the same when it had been me in a hospital bed two years ago. Opus was lending his services elsewhere and apparently Sarge was stepping up.

  “You keep your mom safe,” I told him, petting him on the back.

  He seemed to relax and let out a breath he’d been holding.

  “Wan Bar!” Owen said, using his tiny hands to push my face to his.

  “Ok, ok. Ophelia, I’m going to forget the leash, you just stick tight to me.”

  She let out a happy sound as I knelt and unclipped her leash.

  We got to the courtyard and Ophelia refused to go out. The hurricane was pushing winds to speeds that made the square courtyard howl. When I put Owen down and cracked the door, it was almost pulled out of my hands. She just walked back and sat next to Owen. I could almost read the meaning of her body language. If somebody is going outside, it’s the dumb human. Yeah, that would be me. The hairless monkey.

  “How about we go to the cafeteria?”

  “Ungry!” Owen told me, both arms lifted.

  I picked him up, and Ophelia fell in as I followed my nose. Owen made faces at the nurses or people he encountered, giving a shy wave. Most would break out into a big smile and wave back, but more than a couple looked at Ophelia uneasily. A dog, off leash, at a hospital. I saw one gal seemingly have a mental battle with herself, then shrug. A hurricane was raging outside and a man walking with a dog probably wasn’t even high up on the list of things she had to care about.

  “There it is!”

  “Down, ungry!”

  I put Owen down and he took off at an almost dead run for the double glass doors. Ophelia let out a quick yip and ran ahead and in front of him, turning her body. Owen laughed and tried to go around Ophelia who changed directions, blocking and herding him.

  “It’s ok, girl, we’ll all go then. Besides, he’s getting too heavy to carry all the time. He’s turning into a lump.”

  She let out a chuff I could barely hear as the wind and rain intensified. Debris and other things were hitting the side of the hospital. I worried about all this glass, but it was supposedly built to withstand much worse. The radio said this was a Category 4 and unless it turned directly, we’d only be brushed by it. Still, government had evacuated the entire area as services weren’t going to be available until things were safe.

  I opened the door to the cafeteria, and Owen and Ophelia walked in. Owen put his hands on her collar as his legs wobbled, and she turned and licked his face. He giggled and I followed him in, rolling my eyes. There were half a dozen uniformed police officers sitting at one table with the detective I recognized from earlier. He gave me a smile and a nod as I walked up.

  “Who’s this fine young lady?” one of the patrolman asked.

  “Ophie!” Owen told him proudly, coming to a stop next to him.

  “Ophelia,” I told the group.

  She was pleased with the attention and wagged her tail a little less nervously than before.

  “She’s the one who nailed our suspect?” the detective asked.

  “That was Opus and Sarge. She’ll do it if asked, but with those two guys around, not usually. She’s actually a trained tracker. We have done some volunteer work—”

  My words cut off as one of the police officers reached over to her, two strips of bacon in his hand. She growled and he pulled his hand back, looking at me.

  “Trained not to get food from strangers?” he asked me.

  “I think so? She’s usually a chow hound, though. Ophelia, you want some bacon?”

  Her head cocked to the side and she considered my words and her tail wagged, but nervously. The patrolman handed me the bacon, and I offered it to her. She gently took one strip from my hand and dropped it to the ground where she inhaled it in a couple big bites. Owen had snatched the other piece and was attempting to force choke himself with it.

  “Um, thanks,” I said, watching the cop smile.

  “I think she stopped me from giving the baby the bacon,” the patrolman said to me.

  I thought about that and it made sense. Ophelia had never seen us allowing a stranger to give food to the baby. With her training she probably was buying me time to make up my mind. When I’d made a decision, she’d gone along with it. I was starting to think my dogs were smarter than me.

  “That makes sense. What are you guys doing?” I asked.

  “Only place in town open for breakfast,” one said around a mouthful of biscuits and gravy.

  My stomach grumbled.

  “Plus the hospital is on high ground. We can park our patrol cars here and dispatch can radio in what’s needed. Better than sitting in the car in the middle of this,” another one said, motioning outside where the storm had turned the sky into a roiling black mass.

  “True. And… the scenery isn’t half bad,” Detective Hanson said.

  I followed his gaze to a table where younger twenty something nurses were all chatting. A couple noticed our attention and they turned back to their table; laughter rang out and the one who’d caught the detective staring had a creeping redness on her neck and ears.

  “I think she’s caught you looking before,” another patrolman ribbed him.

  “I hate talking to women,” he said suddenly, “I never know how to break the ice.”

  I knelt down. “Owen, you see that pretty nurse in the blue and white?” I said, pointing.

  “Momma pretty?” he asked me, a finger going to his mouth to pick at the remnants of the bacon.

  “Yes, she’s pretty like mommy. Go say hi.”

  “Oh tay,” Owen said with a smile and started for the group.

  “What are you doing?” Hanson asked.

  “Matchmaking.”

  The guys were laughing, but not as loud and raucously as the ladies had, because they saw Owen was actually going through with it. Both tables full of people watched a
s my tiny human went to the gal who vaguely looked like Tina. She even had similar glasses, but was a little less gazelle and more gentle curves.

  “What’s that?” she asked as he pulled on her sleeve.

  “Dayee, more, po!” Owen said loud enough for us to hear. “Pull,” he said, taking a finger in both hands and pulling on her.

  “Ok, ok,” she said, looking over.

  Ophelia sat on her hind end, her tail going a mile a minute and her tongue hanging out.

  “Did you ever doubt me?” I asked her, dropping a hand to her head to give her a pet.

  Ophelia barked excitedly as the nurse followed Owen back to me.

  “I’m not quite sure what he was asking, but sounded like he said daddy?” she asked me.

  “Actually, he was asking you to come over here. I asked him to introduce you to Detective Hanson here,” I said, nodding to the plain clothes detective.

  He shot me a panicked look, but her smile lit her face and this time he was the one who was turning red in the face. Ophelia hesitated before finally getting up and running over to her. She pushed with her muzzle making the nurse turn to see why she was getting pushed.

  “What’s she doing?” she asked me as Ophelia herded her around the table.

  “I know what she’s doing,” one of the patrolmen said, getting up and offering her his seat. “I’m going to head upstairs and check on the prisoner anyway. See you guys.”

  The nurse sat down in the vacated seat next to Hanson, and everybody at two tables was watching the two of them, the other people having gone silent figuring out something was going on.

  “Hi,” Detective Hanson said, then shot me a look of pure evil.

  “Hi there, Detective. Nice to see you again.”

  “Again?” one of the others asked in a falsetto voice.

  “He comes in here for breakfast three days a week and then goes to the Pediatric Chemo Clinic and reads to the kids, or plays video games with him.”

  He looked at his plate, where he was rearranging eggs and hash browns, then up at us, almost daring us to say something.

  “It’s nice seeing you again, Cindy,” he said, breaking into a smile. “I noticed you on the pediatric floor more and more lately?”

  “I love working with the kids,” she said. “Someday… I would never wish cancer on any kid, but someday if I have kids, I want them to be as brave as the kids I help take care of.”

  “Ungry!” Owen said, pulling on my finger.

  I’d been watching the unfolding drama and romance, and although I’d kept track of the baby man, I had forgotten what we had come for.

  “Let’s get some food,” I told him. “Ladies and gentlemen, nice to see you again!” I backed up slowly as Ophelia gave them a high pitched yip before turning to follow me.

  Owen fell in place and when we got near the serving area I had to push him back gently, telling him it was hot. He repeated the word as I filled three plates with eggs, ham, bacon, biscuits and gravy on another, with sausage links. Then a plate of just meat, more bacon, sausage and ham. Owen was asking for a bar and french fries, the only two foods he never refused, but I was snagging silverware as the cashier rang me up at the end of the food line.

  “Don’t get too far from me,” I told Owen as Ophelia made the same conclusion I did.

  He laughed as she walked in front of him, herding him back my way, giving him a lick.

  “She’s so good with him,” the cashier said.

  “People don’t own dogs, dogs own people. She’s sort of adopted him. Ophelia had a litter of pups the same time he was born.”

  “My daughter has a boxer that’s like that. Protective dogs,” she told me, handing my change back.

  “They’re great at that,” I agreed and saw three patrolmen get up and head out the door in a hurry, probably having gotten a call.

  “Let’s go sit down,” I told Owen, noting the now empty chairs near Detective Hanson and Nurse Cindy.

  “Wan Juice!”

  “You want juice?” I asked to make sure because the wind had picked up and the last couple cops’ radios started crackling.

  “Juice cuppy!” Owen said, pulling on the leg of my shorts.

  I was glad I’d brought the little backpack that held an extra cup and bottle. I was even more surprised by how little pushback I was getting having the dogs in here.

  “Do you get a lot of service dogs in here?” I asked the cashier suddenly.

  “Quite a few. I don’t think I’ve seen your girl here before.”

  “Grammy wuv Oppy, Oofie, and Barge!” Owen said loudly. “Owie wan juice now?”

  “Ok,” I said laughing, “he’s telling you his grandma loves his Opus, Ophelia, and Sarge also.”

  “Those all your dogs?” she asked as Owen pulled at my finger.

  “Yeah, the other two are upstairs with my wife and Doc.”

  “I hope you folks plan on sticking around until this wind lets up. It might not be safe outside for three fur babies and this rascal.”

  I knew what she meant, the hurricane winds were blowing debris into the courtyard, we could see it through one of the glass walls of the café. Debris from outside the center portion of the hospital. Despite the glass, I felt safer inside than the outside.

  “We’re planning on sticking around until it’s safe to leave,” I told her.

  “You three stay out of shenanigans,” she said, a matronly smile crossing her face.

  We took our trays to the table where Detective Hanson was sitting with Cindy. His face looked concerned and pinched. He motioned for me to sit. I put the trays down and pulled a seat out for Owen. He climbed up in it awkwardly.

  “I’ll be right back, I need to grab some coffee,” I told them.

  “Javier got out of his cuffs and assaulted a nurse,” Hanson blurted.

  I sat down instead of heading for coffee.

  28

  Tina & Sarge

  As soon as Rick and Owen left with Ophelia, Tina kicked Sarge off the bed and stretched out. It felt glorious to have an entire bed to herself. Sarge sat next to her, then laid down on the floor as she got comfortable. She pulled one of the blankets up and, ignoring her rumbling stomach, she rolled on her side. She was still sleepy, either a result of the knock on the head, the drug, or just plain exhaustion. Still, the wind howled and things made banging and crashing sounds outside the room.

  Sarge drifted also. In his dreams, he was following his alpha into another fight. The man who’d tried to hurt his human had already shown his stomach and was retreating, holding a bloody arm, when the smell hit him. The bad man was going away, yet he could smell him getting closer. His leg twitched as the door seemingly opened, snapping the dog awake. Sarge growled low and then heard a loud bark further away, his alpha, his father. The human Tina also woke up with a start, but Sarge was moving to the door.

  Every guard hair on his body stood up, and the ridge along his back did as well. Something more than the dream made him instinctively want to fight. To protect. To make his enemies quake in fear for even daring to hurt the humans he was entrusted to care for. Another bark, then the slapping of feet. Sarge used his nose to push the door open to see Opus flash past the room. More slapping of the feet and the man in the white coat was running after the leash that had been dropped. Or, more than likely, that Opus had pulled out of his grip.

  Sarge wanted to follow, but his duty lay with this tiny human woman. His father was on the case, and he’d learned everything he could from his father. Protect the humans first, fight and conquer the enemies second.

  “What is it, boy?” Tina said, “Did I hear Opus?”

  Sarge cocked his head to the side, considering her question, then turned and jumped on her bed from almost five feet away. She sat back in shock, pushing at his body, but he put his nose down and pushed back at her hands, then turned and laid down on her legs.

  “Get off me, you big doofus,” Tina complained.

  Sarge just looked at her with big brown
eyes. His human wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was he.

  29

  Opus

  Opus let out a bark as soon as he caught the scent of the bad human. He’d pulled against the leash so hard that the man in the white coat was forced to let it go. Then he’d taken off, giving a hunting bark, both to let the prey know the game was on, and to alert Ophelia and Sarge. They both had jobs to do protecting humans, but the bad man might try to go in their direction. Better they were forewarned.

  Opus shot between the legs and a walker of an elderly patient who let out a surprised laugh as he made his way toward the bottom of the building. Opus knew about the metal boxes that took you up and down, but not how to use them. He skid to a stop next to a door, thinking hard. He could smell the outside stronger here. He pushed the door with his muzzle, but it didn’t budge. He took half a step back trying to figure out what to do while listening to the human in the white coat chase after him.

  There was a silver flashy handle. Opus pushed himself to his hind legs and looked out the square glass above the handle, his paws resting against the door. It was slick and his front paws slipped, but not before he saw stairs. Those he understood. Some went toward the clouds, some went toward the smell of the ocean. As he was sliding down to all fours, his paw brushed the handle and the door pushed forward. The opening almost had him falling in an undignified manner, so he hurried. The door swung half shut when he was halfway in, but his body prevented the door from closing. He pushed past until he heard a click.

  Smelling the bad man’s smell heading in the direction of down and the ocean, Opus went for the stairs, only to be pulled up short. The red leash the Doc had used was wedged in the bottom of the door. Opus let out a frustrated bark that echoed on the tiled surfaces of the stairwell, making his ears hurt. The slapping of feet outside seemed to stop and then the door opened. As soon as Opus felt the leash free, he hurried down the stairs as fast as his legs would take him, being mindful of not tripping on the dragging leash.