A Light in the Dark

by Becky Doughty

  Sebastian nodded. “Haven’t seen you around lately. Looked for you on Saturday. Brought you something from Mama Dosh, but had to eat it myself.”

  I nudged Ani with my elbow. Sebastian must have left our impromptu practice session and come here to bring Foster the bag of treats I’d ribbed him about from Sienna Cafe. I felt silly and selfish; I’d been so worried he’d been avoiding me, ignoring my phone calls, but he’d been busy thinking about this man, looking for him while I sat at home and pouted.

  Come to think of it, Foster and Pete hadn’t been here the last time we came, either. A week ago, we’d only made it to the park for a short visit and had stayed for maybe a half an hour at the most. We hadn’t thought anything of Foster and Pete’s absence, mainly because we were on a tight time schedule and had been deeply occupied with our conversation about the men in our lives. We’d noticed, but nothing more, having no reason to believe we should be concerned. For all we knew, he’d showed up right after we left, or had left right before we got there. But hearing Sebastian mention it, the unsettled feeling in my stomach kicked up a notch. When Foster continued, my eyes widened and I peered over at Ani. Her expression had to mirror mine.

  “Yeah. Got caught in the middle of something I can’t get out of, kid.” Foster dipped his head at the dog who was now sniffing the ground in small circles in search of any treats or scraps left behind in and around the bench. He didn’t wander more than two feet from Foster, though. Sebastian pulled out another dog biscuit and Pete sat for it without being told. Juno must have been exhausted—she didn’t even lift her head at Pete’s crunching and slurping. Foster added, “I worry about Pete.”

  I was pretty sure I knew what Foster was trying to say. And from the look on Sebastian’s face, even though I couldn’t see him straight on, I was pretty sure he did, too. He didn’t say anything, though. Just waited while Foster repositioned himself, groaned pitifully, and took several stuttering breaths.

  “You know how it is,” Foster said, no longer looking at Sebastian, but out over the lawns behind the cordoned-off dog arena. Circles of hazy yellow light shone on the ground below lampposts, but they were few and far between, and the expanse of the park was slipping away into the shadows of night. “In the wrong place at the wrong time when the hammer fell on some poor sucker. I’ve been lying low, waiting for word that he was onto me, but when I didn’t hear anything, I thought maybe I was off the hook.” He reached over and gently scrubbed Pete’s head. “Shoulda known better.”

  The resolute look on Foster’s face told me as little as his words did, but a sense of foreboding washed over me as he added, “We got interrupted today.” Foster let out a short grunt that could have been a laugh or a groan. “But he’ll be back. Finish what he started.”

  “What can I do to help?” Sebastian’s voice cracked a little on the last word, the strain of staying calm in the face of what was unfolding starting to get to him. I felt a strange mixture of emotions as I watched him interact with Foster; I was so proud of him for keeping his head on straight, but I wanted to shake him in frustration and demand that he get the authorities involved. Whatever this was all about, Foster needed help. He was completely alone in this world except for his extra-friendly dog. Ani and I would be happy to do what we could for him, but we had no idea where to even begin.

  “I’m wondering about that feed store you work at.” Foster’s eyes suddenly glistened in the overhead light and I realized the man was on the verge of tears. I looked down at my hands so as not to embarrass him if he caught me watching. I almost didn’t hear his next words; they came out just barely above a whisper. “They need a guard dog?”

  Sebastian didn’t respond right away, but finally, he said, “I’ll see what I can do.” He re-wet the cloth he’d held pressed to Foster’s head and held it out for the man to take. Foster returned it to the bump and closed his eyes.

  “That’s all I can ask.”

  ***

  Sebastian straightened, pulled his phone from his back pocket, and checked the time before glancing our way. I could tell he was in a quandary over what to do.

  I spoke up, not wanting him worrying about us, too. “Is there anything we can do? Do you want us to get the First Aid kit from your car?”

  Sebastian eyed Foster for a moment, seemed satisfied that he wouldn’t topple over onto the ground, and crossed to where we sat. Juno lifted her head drowsily, yawned, and nuzzled her nose back into the crook of Ani’s arm. Sebastian crouched down in front of us the same way he had with Foster. “He’s pretty banged up, but he says he’s going to be okay.”

  Not from what I’d just overheard. Granted, I didn’t know the details, but it sounded to me like Foster was making post-mortem arrangements for Pete.

  Sebastian must have seen the look I gave him. “Listen. There’s no love lost between Foster and the cops. It’s nothing against them, but they have to uphold the law in Midtown, and part of the law does not allow loitering in public areas. Foster and Pete don’t have anything but public areas to call home, not even a place to use the bathroom without the possibility of someone turning him in for indecent exposure, so both he and the police usually just end up frustrated and short-fused when they encounter each other.” He dropped his gaze to the gravel, picked up a smooth pebble, and bounced it around on his open palm. “You’ve probably guessed that he doesn’t carry health insurance. And even if he did, he’d have to leave Pete somewhere to get medical treatment.”

  I thought about all the comforts of my life, my own bedroom, the garage we Marauders had commandeered and converted to the studio, a seemingly endless supply of food and water, the three bathrooms in our home, the backyard that sat empty most days now that we’d outgrown the swing set and sandbox, where a dog like Pete could play untended for hours. Sure, we barbecued during the summer out there, Jordan sometimes used the back patio to build his props since I’d taken over the garage, and Mom grew her flowers and vegetables year round. But really, it was just an extra space in our lives where we could do whatever we wanted and no one had a right to tell us otherwise. Foster and Pete had nothing to call their own but the clothes on Foster’s back, and the bundle in the tunnel. Not even the tunnel where they slept belonged to them. They staked their claim on it by leaving their meager belongings behind, but any unscrupulous person coming along could take even those from them, out of malice, sport, or self-righteous indignation. Tears burned the back of my throat and I swallowed hard.

  Sebastian looked back and forth between Ani and me. “Although the bump on his head looks awful, he swears he didn’t pass out. His ribs are the worst of it, but he’s breathing fine, if a bit shallow, and he says he’s not coughing up blood.” He didn’t bother confirming what was obvious to us all, that Foster had indeed been beaten up by someone. Badly. He seemed nervous, though, glancing over his shoulder toward the parking lot periodically, but then, I wouldn’t want to be the one calling the shots in this situation, either. What if Foster had internal injuries? What if he had a concussion from being hit on the head? “I’m no doctor, but I’ve—” He faltered a little, but continued. “Well, I’ve seen stuff like this before. The human body is pretty resilient when it has to be.”

  A little pin prick of light came on at the back of my mind, making me think I was missing something, that there was some bit of information I hadn’t quite put together, but try as I might, it wouldn’t come to me.

  “If you two will help me, I think we can get him out to his tunnel where I can wrap his ribs and make him as comfortable as possible. He should be safe out there with Pete standing guard. Then I’ll take you home. I’ll—”

  “We can’t just leave him here alone all night,” I interrupted a bit shrilly. “What if he has a concussion? What if—what if something happens to him, and Pete is stuck here alone?” I couldn’t say what I was really afraid of. I pulled out my phone and swiped it open to call home. “We need to take him back to my place if he won’t go to the emergency room. My folks will help him.�
�

  “No, Tish!” Sebastian’s adamant reply startled me, and he reached over to cover my phone, squeezing my hand firmly. I glanced at Foster. He didn’t even open his eyes. “No,” he said again, more gently this time. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Tish, you don’t know anything about Foster or what he’s mixed up in.” He shook his head slowly, his eyes imploring me to understand. “You can’t take him home.”

  I made a huffing sound of disbelief and crossed my arms over my chest, wrapping my fingers tightly around my upper arms. How could he think, for one moment, that we wouldn’t be willing to help an injured man, no matter what the threat? “What are you saying? You think I don’t want to contaminate my house with his kind?” I knew I sounded defensive, but I didn’t like what he was inferring about me and my family.

  Sebastian grip on my hand softened and he rubbed the pad of his thumb back and forth across my wrist. I pressed my lips together but wouldn’t meet his eyes. “No, no. That’s not it at all,” he said, his voice sincere, soothing. “I don’t doubt for a moment that you would take both Foster and Pete in and care for them like they were family. I know you would. And I’m fairly certain your folks wouldn’t even blink twice if you showed up on your doorstep with that man and his dog.” He waited until I looked at him, and then quietly added, “But Tish, Foster won’t—he wouldn’t go—”

  Sebastian’s voice cracked, dropping off abruptly, and I saw tears welling up in his beautiful dark eyes. Shocked by the sight of them, I reached up and covered my mouth with my other hand. Ani sniffed softly beside me.

  “Please, just help me get him to his tunnel, okay? Then I’ll drive you home.” He glanced over at Foster again and in the different angle of light, Sebastian’s face looked haggard with worry.

  “We can walk home, Sebastian. You don’t have to take us,” Ani spoke up. “We do it all the time.”

  “No. It’s late. And I don’t know how safe it is tonight.” He was still watching Foster, but the battered man hadn’t moved. “I’ll come back after and check on him. I can even stay with him for a while, make sure he’s sleeping all right. And maybe…” His voice trailed off, suddenly hesitant.

  “What? What is it?” I brushed tears from my cheeks.

  “Do you think maybe you could round up some leftovers?” He’d shared the burgers with Pete and Juno after the first hour of waiting. Ani and I had already eaten. “Foster might be hungry. If not now, then he probably will be in the morning. Even just a sandwich or some fruit. Something simple. And maybe an extra blanket or two.”

  “Yes!” Now that I could do. “Yes, yes, yes.” I suddenly felt a whole lot less helpless, and even though it wasn’t much in the grand scheme of things, it was something. “We even have a couple of those Styrofoam coolers the guys always buy on their fishing trips when they forget to bring our good ones. We can fill one with ice for his bruises and another with food for a couple of days.” My mind was racing, scrambling. How was I going to pack two coolers without explaining to my mother what we were up to? “Ani, can you fill the ice one? Just tell your folks I need extra ice.”

  Ani nodded agreeably and I turned to Sebastian. “We’re always borrowing ice from them. They have a jet-fueled ice machine and only three of them at their house. We use trays and there are usually thousands of people at ours.” Focus, T-Bird. “I’ll pack a food cooler and we have lots of extra blankets in the studio. We’re always hoarding them for padding when hauling gear.”

  “If you give us your car keys, we’ll go get your First Aid kit,” Ani said, holding out her hand. She slid Juno gently to the ground where the dog sat for a few moments, and then flopped down to her belly, resting her head on her front paws.

  Sebastian stood, dug his keys from his pocket, but instead of handing them over, said, “My trunk is kind of a mess. I’ll go get it since I know where it is. Can you two just stay right here and keep Foster from falling off the bench? I’ll hurry. I have a couple of flashlights in there, too.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Sebastian returned shortly, his arms loaded. My eyes widened in surprise and when I looked at her, Ani’s face bore the same expression. A heavy-duty sleeping bag, the dark green, flannel-lined kind you get if you’re a hardcore camper, a club-length MagLite flashlight, a small, battery-operated lantern, a box of high-protein granola bars and a resealable plastic bag full of what had to be dog food. Even his First Aid kit was a surprise; a large plastic bin with everything but the kitchen sink inside it.

  Before we moved Foster, Sebastian gave him a couple of ibuprofen tablets for pain, and while we waited for them to start taking effect, he poured a hearty scoop of dog food into Pete’s bowl. Juno ate her own helping out of a small plastic bowl Sebastian dug out of the bottomless bin.

  Ani and I had phoned home to assure our parents all was well, that Foster had shown up and we were making sure he ate and had a place to stay for the night. Mom, of course, asked if we were bringing him and Pete home. She said Dad offered to take him by the church in the morning where they could hook Foster up with one of the shelters in the area. I thanked them both for being so gracious and explained he’d refused, but that we’d be home soon. Mom sent me a whole row of smiley faces when I told her Sebastian would be driving us.

  Ani and I distributed the gear between us, including the lantern, and Sebastian walked alongside Foster, the flashlight’s brilliant beam lighting the way ahead of them. Pete and Juno ambled between us, sated and subdued.

  “Why does he have all this stuff in his car?” Ani whispered to me. Sebastian and Foster spoke in low voices a few steps ahead of us and weren’t likely to hear.

  “I don’t know,” I replied. “I was wondering the same thing.” I jostled the heavy plastic bin I held. “I mean, this is how we pack when we’re going camping.”

  Ani hesitated a moment, and then in an even quieter whisper, “You don’t think he’s homeless too, do you?”

  The thought had crossed my mind, but I’d seen the W-4 he’d filled out for Corny and by all appearances, the address looked legit. An apartment complex on a street I didn’t recognize, but it was in Midtown with the same zip code as mine. “I really don’t think so, but I suppose it’s possible.”

  “It’s just so weird. I’ve never seen anyone keep this much stuff in their car for no reason. His car is too clean for him to be a hoarder.”

  I nodded in agreement, even though I knew she couldn’t see me in the dark. We’d reached the fence and Sebastian needed us to hold it as wide as we could so he could help Foster through. Both men were panting from exertion by the time we got to the tunnel.

  I set the lantern on a sizable boulder at the mouth of the tunnel, the light bouncing off the curved walls around us. Ani shined the flashlight from her phone into the dark corners. I was anticipating the reflection of vermin eyes or scattering bugs, but the tunnel was surprisingly uninhabited. Maybe Foster and Pete’s presence was a deterrent, but my relief knew no bounds. Most critters didn’t really bother me, with the exception of crickets and grasshoppers, but that didn’t mean I wanted their company right now.

  While Sebastian helped Foster out of his flannel and undershirt and wiped his ribcage down with no-rinse soap from the bin, Ani and I arranged Foster’s things within reach of the sleeping bag we unrolled for him. Foster had dug out a narrow hollow in the sand a few feet back from the mouth of the tunnel, just big enough for him and Pete. I wondered if it was simply for comfort or if there was a special reason for doing so, like being able to keep a lower profile if anyone happened by.

  Having seen my fair share of bruises and bloody noses, I convinced Ani to be the flashlight holder while Sebastian and I worked on Foster’s ribs. Even in the distorted beam, it was easy to see the bruise darkening his left side. Foster saw my grimace and reached up to pat my cheek.

  “I’ll be fine, Missy. Come from sturdy stock.” Pete sidled up next to me and licked my arm as though to assure me as well. “Pete’s real grateful to you, aren’t you
, Pete?”

  Between Sebastian and me, we made short work of binding Foster’s ribs. “It needs to feel snug, but not so tight it’s hard to breathe.” Foster nodded, assuring us it felt secure. “When I get back, I’ll bring ice for your head and ribs, okay? We can loosen the bandage and ice it while you’re awake, but if you need to sleep, the bandage needs to stay on for support.” Sebastian pulled a clean flannel shirt out of the pile of things we’d brought and held it open so Foster could slip his arms in. It was huge on the rail-thin man, obviously meant for a man Sebastian’s size, but he assured Foster the extra room would make it easier to get to the ribs without having to take it on and off.

  There was a cut inside Foster’s mouth, too, so Sebastian had him rinse with some kind of medicated mouthwash and told him to use it after every meal for at least a day or two.

  Once Foster was settled in the sleeping bag, we gathered up the few things we were taking back with us, including a bag of Foster’s clothes Sebastian insisted on washing, and said goodnight.

  “I’m praying for you, Foster,” I murmured, touching his bony shoulder. Pete lay right up next to him on his uninjured side, his fuzzy head resting on Foster’s shoulder. “And for you, too, Pete. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Foster thanked us again, but his voice was drowsy, fading quickly. We’d left the lantern behind, but the big flashlight gave off more than enough light for us to find our way back through the park.

  Sebastian held our doors for us and I slid into the seat, surprised again by how clean the interior of his car was. Tom’s truck cab required shoveling out every time I wanted to go anywhere with him, and my brothers’ cars, at least until they got women in their lives, were the same. Even Sebastian’s back seat was spotless, except for a laundry basket of folded clothes.