Just Life

by Neil Abramson

  McGreary approached them a few minutes later with a look of weariness—the demeanor worn by a professional who knows that an ending will be bad, that he will be an instrument in that ending, and that he is powerless to alter it. “I just wanted to advise you as a courtesy that we will be setting and enforcing an armed perimeter around the church.”

  Kendall looked to the church entrance and pushed down the urge to vomit. Many of the bystanders had already gathered on the sidewalk in front of the church and started an impromptu protest facing the news cameras. Some had locked arms while others carried signs, hastily made with cardboard and paint conveniently stacked outside Sid’s shop, that read “Free Our Dogs” and “Tell the Truth!” They chanted, “Sanctuary!”

  Andy led them, his fists pumping above his head.

  “People will get hurt,” the mayor said.

  “I’ve got no choice,” McGreary replied.

  But the mayor wouldn’t be put off. “Of course you have a choice. You’ve already screwed this up and made—”

  “Me?” McGreary shouted back at her. “I’m not the one who—”

  “Look at this!” the mayor said, pointing to the crowd. “The Keystone Cops could’ve handled this better.”

  “With all due respect, Madam Mayor,” McGreary said with an obvious effort at control, “screw you!”

  “Perfect,” she said. “You really have to love the subtlety of the armed forces. Tell me something, Lieutenant. When they gave you your rules of engagement for this little exercise, which part said, ‘Trap an old priest and a hundred dogs in a church in front of network television on the eve of the presidential convention’?”

  Kendall turned to McGreary. “Let me try to talk to the priest. I know him. Maybe I can convince them to come out.”

  McGreary was already shaking his head before Kendall finished. “This is not a negotiation.”

  “The way I see it,” Kendall countered, “my offer has no downside and lots of upside. At least it may help get those folks off the front steps.”

  Three minutes later Kendall had made his way through the mass of people standing before the church. He banged on the door to the narthex. Gabriel opened it a crack. The crowd glimpsed the priest’s face and cheered.

  “What do you want?” Gabriel asked.

  “We need to talk.”

  “So talk.”

  “C’mon, Father. Let me in. I may be the only thing standing between you and a canister of tear gas at this point.” Gabriel opened the door a few inches wider and Kendall darted in.

  Kendall scanned the sanctuary, took in the caged dogs and the odor of antiseptic, urine, and feces. “Wow,” was all he could manage.

  “What? You’ve never seen the inside of a church before?” Gabriel brought Kendall into his office.

  “Have you heard from Sam?” Kendall asked.

  “Not since they got into the helicopter. You?”

  Kendall shook his big head.

  “So where does that leave us?

  Kendall shrugged. “Dangerous ground, I guess.”

  “If you’re here to try to convince me to give up the dogs, forget it.”

  “Give up the dogs,” Kendall said.

  “Forget it.”

  “OK. I can say I tried. On to Plan B. Get me a sheet of paper and a pen,” Kendall said.

  “You gonna write me a love note?”

  “No, you’re going to write one.”

  “Say again?”

  “You need to give me a demand that I can deliver to the Guard and the mayor.”

  “You’re acting like I have a hostage.”

  “You do. A peaceful end to this circus.”

  “How bad is it out there?”

  “Let me put it this way: if Al Pacino showed up, they’d be yelling, ‘Attica! Attica!’ You own that, at least for now. Or they think you do. So give me a demand.”

  25

  Sam forced herself to look up from her clenched hands and noticed that the sky outside the window had turned a sickly gray.

  “We’re being given instructions to put down,” the pilot called back to Sam and Tom.

  Sam risked a peek at the ground. “That isn’t New York City.”

  “No. Still seventy-five miles away.”

  “What’s up?” Tom asked.

  “A line of thunderclouds straight ahead. Always a problem in September. But you’ll need to drive from there. State cops will meet you.”

  “Damn,” Tom said. “What about going around?”

  The pilot shook his head. “The line goes all the way to Connecticut.”

  Sam felt a vibration in her pocket and it took a moment for her to realize that it was her phone. She pressed the phone hard to her ear, but it was still nearly impossible to hear the voice on the other end over the propeller blades.

  “… rabies virus used for the vaccine is self-limiting.”

  “Dad? I can barely hear you!”

  “… important! Listen, the VetMed documentation… the dogs that received the original vaccine are no longer shedding the virus. The virus is out of their systems and the immunity…” Daniel’s voice faded into static.

  “Say again, Dad.”

  “I said that the sick dogs at the shelter should have developed a blood serum immunity to the rabies virus. That part of the vaccine actually worked. The immunity they’ve developed may be critical to figuring out an antiviral to reverse the effects in the infected children.”

  “Do you have proof?”

  “… working on it. The serum is…” More crackling.

  “What?”

  “… you need to save those dogs. We need those antibodies from live animals. I’m trying to get through to the CDC now, but you must tell the mayor. We need those dogs alive.”

  “No one’s gonna believe us without proof,” Sam said.

  “Be persuasive!”

  An explosion of thunder rattled the helicopter and Sam’s connection went dead.

  “What?” Tom asked as soon as Sam lowered her phone.

  Sam ignored him and called to the pilot, “Is there any way you can take us straight through the storm?”

  “In an emergency I might be able to get permission.”

  “Get it. Please. We have an emergency.”

  “OK,” the pilot said. “But I hope you both brought a change of underwear.”

  She turned to Tom. “You need to get the mayor on the phone. Now!”

  26

  Kendall ran back to McGreary and the mayor, carrying Gabriel’s demand note. “What’s this?” McGreary asked.

  “A demand. But it’s short. They just want to speak to the mayor.”

  “I’m not agreeing to that,” McGreary said. “No way. I can’t guarantee her safety.”

  “It’s actually a good idea,” the mayor said. “I’ll go.”

  “I’ll be with her at all times,” Kendall volunteered.

  “I don’t care,” McGreary shot back. “No.”

  Kendall wouldn’t give up. “She might be able to defuse this. Let the priest save face. At least it would be helpful in getting the crowds to back off from the church without a riot.”

  McGreary shook his head. “But I can’t—”

  “You need to learn to interpret and improvise, Lieutenant,” the mayor cut in. “Take a look over there.” The mayor pointed to a group of reporters across the street standing beside a CNN satellite feed truck. She removed her cell phone and selected a number from her speed dial. A second later one of the reporters reached into his pocket, removed his ringing phone, and answered it. Kendall heard the reporter say, “Hello,” on the mayor’s phone right before she terminated the call. He assumed McGreary heard it as well.

  “I have thirty others on speed dial,” she told McGreary. “You may want to remind your superiors of that.”

  McGreary muttered one word—“Politicians”—and rolled his eyes. “I’ve gotta make a call to clear this.” He jogged over to the Jeeps for some privacy.

  The ma
yor didn’t wait. She passed through the crowd as Kendall and some other cops cleared her way. She ran to the church with Kendall beside her.

  Gabriel was waiting and he escorted them in stone-faced silence to his office. At the door the mayor turned to Kendall. “Can you give us a few moments, Jim?”

  “I promised I wouldn’t leave you,” Kendall answered.

  “It’s quite all right,” the mayor said. “I’ll be safe.”

  “It’s not really you I’m worried about,” Kendall said.

  The mayor nodded at Gabriel. “I promise I won’t do physical violence to this person.” Kendall left them and closed the door.

  27

  Once they were alone, the mayor and Gabriel stared at each other for a long, guarded moment. Then the mayor took a step forward and hugged the priest tightly.

  “I’m so sorry I got you into this, Gabe,” she said.

  Gabriel returned the embrace. “You do keep life interesting, Sandi. If only it kept us young.”

  “When I asked you to take the dogs, I didn’t really expect—”

  Gabriel pulled back and looked down at her—he had a good foot in height on her. “You didn’t expect only because you didn’t let yourself think about what would happen. You ignore fundamental rules of causality. Everything follows what came before.”

  The mayor smiled. “You’ve been saying that to me for years.”

  “And here we are again. How, may I ask, does this little excursion end? An act of God, perhaps?”

  The mayor slumped down into an offered chair. Molly came out of her hiding place and jumped into the mayor’s lap as if they were old friends. Eliot came over next. “Who’s this? One of the shelter dogs?” The mayor reached down and rubbed his head. Eliot stretched and returned to Gabriel’s feet.

  “No. Actually an impulse acquisition that was probably the best decision of my later years.”

  “Ah. We’re never too old to have a happy childhood.” The mayor stroked the cat absently while she spoke. “According to Daniel Lewis, the dogs are no longer contagious.”

  “Even I could have told you that.”

  “And he believes they may be important to figuring out a way to save the sick children.”

  “That’s very good news.”

  “Yes, but we need someone to believe us. Dr. Lewis is trying to convince the CDC as we speak. There are some countervailing influences and they don’t like being wrong on a good day. But if he can get the CDC on our side, maybe we can convince the governor to back down. Then we can hold the press conference on the church steps and still pull out a Pixar ending.”

  “When was the last time this governor backed down?”

  “Including this time? Never.”

  “And what are the contingencies if he does not?”

  “Then we’re looking at the potential for violence and I can’t let that happen. I won’t. I would need to turn over the dogs first and hope they stay alive until I have more proof.”

  “So this may all be for nothing?”

  The mayor smiled, but only for a moment. “I actually think it’s going to work out.”

  “Why would it? It never has in the past.”

  “I need you to hold the line for a little longer. This will all be over soon.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  “Toughen up.”

  Gabriel laughed. “Or what? You’re going to beat me up again like in fifth grade?”

  “If I have to.” The mayor lowered Molly to the floor. “I’m going to report that we made some progress and that you wanted a little time to think it over.”

  Gabriel escorted the mayor and Kendall to the front door and let them out. As he locked the door behind them, someone in the church basement screamed, “Fire!”

  And a situation that could not possibly get any worse actually did.

  28

  Sam had been through turbulence before… even bad turbulence. But nothing had prepared her for this descent into meteorological hell. The problem was not the lightning or the booming thunderclaps, but the rims and rifts of air currents that seemed to attack the helicopter from all directions. One moment they were rising up and the next dropping down thirty feet only to be shot upward again. She was too scared to puke.

  This violent display of nature forced her to consider that she might actually die in this helicopter. Despite that she had seen death often, and in fact was a member of the only healing profession authorized to deliver endings daily, she had not previously given much thought to her own death. She had been too angry and too focused on what someone else had done to her to take the kind of control necessary to imagine her own end.

  But now Sam thought of what she would miss and what she had missed. Travel? A human life partner? Children she might have given life or love to, and now would never know?

  Maybe these things. But her thoughts kept coming back to the smell of fur, the sound of paw-nails on hard floors, the clarity of gold-flecked irises in sunlight. She wouldn’t miss the things she had never done. She would miss what she knew—her dogs, the shelter, and those who had toiled with her amid the sounds and smells of rescue and sanctuary. All those would-haves or could-haves and lives not chosen? What did they really matter now? Could it be that, whether by luck, coincidence, or destiny, she had been doing the exact correct thing all along?

  Except even if that was true, she still could not avoid the conclusion that she had failed. The giant countdown clock sneered at her. She had given shelter but not sanctuary.

  Never sanctuary.

  In the hopes of some distraction from her own thoughts. Sam glanced at Tom, white-knuckling his armrest. He appeared to be experiencing the same physical effects of the turbulence and trying hard to keep it together. “I’m guessing I’m not looking too professional right now,” he said.

  “You seem to be doing fine.”

  “I’m trying to think of other things.”

  “Like what?”

  Tom shrugged, but it wasn’t convincing.

  “Throw me a line,” Sam said. “I’m sort of dying here.”

  “I was thinking that I miss my son. He would think this is really cool and if he were here I would try to act fearless for him. Try to be worthy…”

  “He likes adventure?”

  Tom nodded, and once again Sam could see the love this man had for his boy. “He likes movement, contact, activity, you know, signs of life. He’d love your shelter.”

  “He should come by… if we live through this.” To the pilot Sam shouted, “Will this thing hold together?”

  “Goodness, I hope so.”

  “A little more confidence right now would be great,” she said weakly.

  “We will be fine. Not as bad as I thought.”

  “Are you kidding me?” Sam asked.

  “At least we’re still vertical to the horizon.”

  Sam looked out the window and tried to see past the rain lashing the glass. “How can you tell?”

  “Because we haven’t stalled yet. We’re almost through this,” the pilot called back. “Just one more rift. Hold on.”

  “Crap. Not again.” Sam gnawed on her thumbnail.

  Tom unstrapped his broken watch and handed it over to Sam. “Keep this on until we finish this.”

  “I couldn’t—”

  “Take it. For luck.”

  Sam tightened the watch on her wrist and actually felt a bit better for reasons she could not explain. “Thank you. I promise I’ll give it back when we land.”

  “Don’t worry,” Tom said, and smiled. “I know where you work.”

  A powerful blast of thunder rocked the helicopter. Instinctively Sam reached out to steady herself and grabbed the first thing she found. She discovered Tom’s hand in midair already searching for her own.

  29

  When Gabriel reached the basement, he saw that Greg’s shout had been slightly premature. There were no flames, but there was smoke.

  For four hours an electrical outlet, wi
red when Eisenhower was president, had strained under the burden of two power strips attached to six lamps. In the 243rd minute of service, the outlet became so hot that it caused the wiring in the wall leading from the outlet to arc. The ancient “flame-resistant” insulation in the walls—made of some substance declared illegal under the building code two decades ago precisely for this reason—began to smolder. The smoke fought to escape the confines of the inner wall and found release in the same outlet that had started the problem.

  “It’s in the walls!” Sid shouted above the barking dogs.

  “Open the cages,” Gabriel ordered.

  “Should we try to leash them?” Luke asked.

  The priest looked across the rows of cages and the hundred dogs. “There’s no time. Just open the cages and we’ll try to leash them once they’re upstairs.”

  “This ever happen before?” Greg asked.

  Gabriel shook his head. “But only God knows how long it’s been since these outlets have been used, let alone this much.”

  “We need to call the fire department,” Sid said. He tried his cell phone but couldn’t get service in the basement. “Got to do it from upstairs.” Scrabble, Blinker, and eight other newly uncaged dogs followed him up the steps.

  Within minutes they had released thirty dogs, then forty, but the smoke continued to build.

  “We’ve got to get everyone upstairs,” Gabriel concluded. “We’ll need to see what the FDNY says when they get here.”

  “If the Guard lets them through unaccompanied.” Luke spoke aloud what had been on all their minds. The Guard now didn’t even need to break down the front door; it could step in right behind the fire department.

  “I don’t think we have a choice.” Gabriel touched one of the walls.

  Sid returned and announced, “Fire department is on the way.”

  Getting the dogs to follow Gabriel up the stairs and to the church sanctuary was no problem. The upper floor of the church and the sanctuary were still free of smoke, and the walls, for the moment, were cool to the touch. A dog’s olfactory system is over one hundred times more powerful than its human counterpart. The smoke in the basement was not only irritating, it smelled awful, so the dogs were only too happy to get away from it. Only Hips needed assistance; Sid and Greg carried his wheelchair up the stairs.