“It’s a dog. She won’t do anything, she just peed outside.”
“A dog—are you sure it’s not a fox?”
“Why? Do you need another coat?”
I wandered over to the couch, but there was nothing underneath it but dusty smells. In fact, most of the odors in the house were coming from Gloria.
“It’s going to lift its leg on the couch! I’m calling someone,” Gloria shrieked.
“Did you even bother to read this?” Clarity said. She rattled the paper in her hand and I watched alertly, wondering if she was going to throw it. “This is a summons for you, you know. You have to appear in court, too.”
“Well, I’m going to tell them you are completely out of control.”
“And I’m going to tell them why.”
“Why what?”
“Why I was able to skip so much school. You go on trips all the time and leave me without any adults in the house, including when I was twelve years old. By myself !”
“I don’t believe this. You asked to be left alone. You hated the babysitter.”
“I hated her because she was a drunk! One time she fell asleep in her car in the driveway.”
“We’re not having this conversation again. If you’re going to imply that I was in any way a negligent mother then I’ll just call Social Services and you can live in an orphanage.”
I turned in circles a few times and lay down on the soft rug. The shouting made me anxious, though, and within a few seconds I was back on my feet.
“Sure, that’s how it works. You just leave me in a box on the front porch and they come by on Tuesdays to pick it up and take me to be an orphan.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes. You’re going to call Social Services and tell them you don’t want to be a mom anymore. So then there will be a hearing. And the judge is going to want to know where you were all last week—Aspen—and where you were when you went to Vegas when I was thirteen, and where you were when you went to New York for a month. And you know what he’s going to say? He’s going to say that you need to go to jail. And everyone in the neighborhood will know. They’ll see you getting into a patrol car in handcuffs with your fur coat over your head.”
“My mother left me alone when I was a lot younger than you. I never complained.”
“The same mother who beat you with garden tools? Who broke your arm when you were eight years old? I don’t think you would.”
“My point was, I was fine. You were fine.”
“Well, my point was, they arrested your mom and they’ll arrest you, too, Gloria. The laws are a lot more strict now. You don’t have to actually send your kid to the emergency room to wind up in jail.”
Gloria was staring at Clarity, who was breathing hard. “Unless,” Clarity said in a low voice, “you let me keep Molly.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“I’ll tell the judge that I lied to you. That I told you I was going to school, but actually I was skipping. I’ll say it wasn’t your fault.”
“It wasn’t my fault!”
“Or I can tell him about you leaving me all the time on your little trips with your boyfriends. That’s the deal. I keep Molly and I’ll lie to the judge. If you try to make me get rid of her, I’ll tell him everything.”
“You’re as horrible as your father.”
“Oh darn, Gloria. That one doesn’t even upset me anymore. You used it on me too often. So what do you want to do?”
Gloria left the room. Clarity went over to me and petted me and I curled up on the rug and fell asleep. When I woke up, Gloria was no longer in the house. Clarity was in the kitchen and I arose with a yawn and went in to see what she was doing. A delicious odor was in the air.
“Want some, Molly?” Clarity asked me. She sounded sad, but she fed me toast. “No honey butter for you, though,” she said. “That’s people-only food.”
She stood up from the table and opened a bag and soon the air carried with it the tantalizing smell of more toast. She dropped a toy on the floor and I chased it, my nails scrabbling on the smooth floor.
“You want the lid? Okay, you can have the lid,” she told me.
I licked the toy, which had an amazing sweet scent to it, but there was nothing to eat on it. I chewed it. Clarity got up from the table and made more toast, and then more, and then more, while I happily chewed on the toy. Then she stood up. “Out of bread,” she said, throwing a plastic sack into the trash can. I wagged, thinking she would come over to play with the toy, but instead she went to the counter and I heard her open a plastic bag and then she made more toast. She kicked the toy and it slid across the floor and I jumped on it. Every time she got up to make more toast, she would kick the toy and I would chase it. I found that if I put my front paws on it I could slide on it until I hit the wall. What a great game!
“All gone. Come on, Molly,” Clarity said. I followed her into her bedroom. “You want to sleep on this pillow? Molly?” Clarity patted a pillow and I jumped on it and shook it in my teeth.
Clarity didn’t want to play, though. She lay on her back with her eyes open. I put my head on her chest and she ran her fingers through my fur, but there was a change overcoming her, a darkening of her mood. I cuddled with her, hoping I could lift her out of her sadness, but when she moaned I knew I was failing. I went to lick her face, smelling butter and toast and the same sweet, sugary tang that had coated the toy, but she rolled away from me. “Oh God,” she said softly.
Clarity went into her bathroom and I heard her making a choking noise and I smelled the sweet toast. She was vomiting again. Her head was in the water bowl, which she refreshed a few times before standing up and looking at her teeth in the mirror. Then she stood on the small box. “A hundred six point five,” she moaned. “I hate myself.”
I decided I despised that box for how it made her feel.
“Let’s go to bed, Molly.”
Clarity didn’t take me down to the basement—she let me sleep on her bed. I was so excited to be out of that space and back in bed with her that I of course had trouble sleeping, but she put her hand on me and petted me until I got drowsy. I turned around and curled up against her and, as I drifted off, her love flowed into me and my love flowed into her. This was more than just watching over someone out of loyalty—I loved Clarity, loved her as completely and totally as any dog could love a person. Ethan had been my boy, but Clarity was my girl.
I woke up later because I heard Gloria and a man talking outside the house. The man laughed and then I heard a car start and drive away and the front door of the house opened and closed. Clarity was still asleep. I heard someone coming down the hall—my time under the stairs, listening to footsteps, told me it was Gloria.
The door to the hallway was open and Gloria stopped in it, staring in at me on the bed. Her complex scents drifted into the room. I wagged a little.
That’s all she did: just stared at me from the darkened hallway.
NINE
Clarity had lots of friends who would come over to play with me and gradually I came to understand that her name was now CJ. People can do that, change the names of things, though I was still Molly. Gloria’s name was Gloria and also Mo-ther. Only Gloria called CJ Clarity anymore.
It worked the other way, too—sometimes the names would stay the same, but the people would change. That’s how the Vet, which was another name for Doctor Deb, was now what CJ called Doctor Marty. He was as nice as Doctor Deb, with hair between his nose and his lip, and strong hands that touched me very gently.
My favorite of all of CJ’s friends was Trent, the boy who took care of Rocky. Trent was taller than CJ and his hair was dark and he always smelled like Rocky. When Trent came to visit he usually brought my brother, and the two of us would tear around in the backyard, wrestling with each other. We would play until we collapsed with exhaustion, sprawled out on the lawn. Often I would lie panting on top of my brother, holding his leg in my mouth out of sheer affection.
&n
bsp; Rocky was stockier than I was and taller, too, but he usually let me pin him when I wanted. When I had him down I always noticed that the darker brown of his muzzle matched the color of my legs—he was otherwise a lighter brown color. I found that as the days became warmer I could measure my growth by assessing Rocky’s—my brother was no longer a gawky puppy, and neither was I.
Rocky was completely devoted to Trent. In the middle of play he would suddenly break off and run over to Trent to be petted. I’d follow him, and CJ would pet me, too.
“You think he’s maybe schnauzer-poodle?” CJ asked Trent. “A schnoodle?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe a Doberman-poodle,” Trent said.
“A Doodle?”
I wagged at my favorite name and gave CJ a friendly nudge with my nose. Ethan had called me a doodle dog; it was a special name that carried with it all the love a boy could have for a dog. Hearing CJ say it reminded me of the connection between my boy and CJ, my girl.
“Or a spaniel of some kind,” Trent speculated.
“Molly, you could be a schnoodle, a spoodle, or a Doodle, but you’re not a poodle,” CJ told me, holding me close and kissing my nose. I wagged with pleasure.
“Hey, watch this. Rocky? Sit! Sit!” Trent commanded. Rocky stared at Trent alertly, sitting down and holding still. “Good dog!”
“I’m not teaching Molly any tricks,” CJ said. “I get enough orders in my own life.”
“Are you kidding? Dogs want to work. They crave it. Don’t you, Rocky? Good boy, Sit!”
Well, I knew what that word meant. This time, when Rocky sat, I sat, too.
“Look, Molly figured it out by watching Rocky! You are such a good dog, Molly!”
I wagged at being a good dog. There were other commands I knew, too, but CJ didn’t say any of them. Rocky rolled on his back for a tummy rub and I put my teeth on his throat.
“Hey, so…,” Trent said. Rocky froze, then struggled out of my grip. I’d felt it, too—a sudden whiff of fear from Trent. Rocky pushed his muzzle at Trent’s hand, while I checked on CJ, who was smiling up at the sky, unaware of any danger.
“Maybe … CJ? Maybe we should go to prom together this year.”
“What? No, are you kidding? You don’t go to prom with your friends. That’s not what it’s for.”
“Yeah, but…”
“But what?” CJ rolled over, brushing her hair back from her face. “God, Trent, ask someone pretty. What about Susan? I know she likes you.”
“No, I’m … Pretty?” Trent said. “Come on. You know you’re pretty.”
CJ slugged him lightly in the arm. “Ya goof.”
Trent was frowning and looking at the ground.
“What?” CJ asked.
“Nothing.”
“Come on; let’s go to the park.”
We went for a walk. Rocky held us up, sniffing and marking the bushes, while I stuck close to CJ’s side. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a little box, but it wasn’t a treat. There was a flare of fire and then a smelly smoke was coming out of her mouth. I knew that odor: it was in all of CJ’s clothing and was often on her breath.
“So what’s probation like? The whole house arrest thing?” Trent wanted to know.
“It’s nothing. I just have to go to school. It’s not even real probation. Gloria acts like I’m some kind of, like, felon.” CJ laughed, then coughed out more smoke.
“You get to keep the dog, though.”
Both Rocky and I looked up at the word “dog.”
“I’m moving out the second I turn eighteen.”
“Yeah? How are you going to manage that?”
“I’ll join the army if I have to. I’ll go to a nunnery. I just have to survive until I’m twenty-one.”
Rocky and I found something deliciously dead to sniff, but CJ and Trent kept walking and our leashes pulled us away before either one of us could roll in it. Sometimes people let their dogs take the time to smell everything important, but most of the time they walk too fast and the wonderful opportunities are lost.
“What happens at twenty-one?” Trent asked.
“That’s when I get the first half of the trust fund my daddy left me.”
“Yeah? How much?”
“Like a million dollars.”
“No way.”
“Way. There was a settlement with the airline after the crash. It’s enough to pay for college and for me to move to New York to take my acting to the next level.”
A squirrel was hopping along in the grass a few houses ahead of us. It froze, realizing its fatal mistake. Rocky and I lowered our heads and charged, straining against our leashes. “Hey!” Trent said, laughing. He ran with us, but with him and CJ holding us back the squirrel was able to make it to a tree and dashed up, chattering at us. Otherwise we most surely would have caught it. We chased that same squirrel on the way back home. Did the stupid thing want to be caught?
Every so often CJ would say, “Want to go to the Vet?” Roughly translated, this meant “We’re going for a car ride in the front seat to see Doctor Marty!” I always responded enthusiastically, even when I came home one day wearing a stupid collar, a plastic cone that magnified all sounds and made it difficult to eat and drink. It had taken me a long time to get used to the idea, but eventually I had learned that people like to put their dogs in stupid collars from time to time.
When I next saw Rocky, he was wearing the same kind of collar! It made wrestling difficult, but we managed.
“Poor Rocky’s singing soprano now,” Trent said.
CJ laughed, smoke coming from her nose and mouth.
Soon after the stupid collar came off we started doing “art building,” which was where we’d go to a quiet place and I’d munch on a chew toy while CJ sat and played with smelly sticks and papers. Everyone at Art Building knew my name and petted me and sometimes fed me—it was so different from at home, where CJ hugged me and cuddled me and Gloria just pushed me away if I tried to greet her in any fashion.
Gloria never touched CJ, either, which was why it was good I was there. In a way, being held by CJ was my most important function. I could feel the lonely ache inside her melting away as we lay together on her bed. I would wag and kiss her and even nibble lightly on her arm, so happy to be with my girl.
When CJ wasn’t home I lived downstairs. Trent came over and he and CJ put a dog door in the basement door, so that I could go out into the backyard if I wanted. I loved going in and out through that dog door—there was always something fun to do on the other side!
Sometimes when I was out in the yard I could see Gloria standing at the window, watching me. I always wagged. Gloria was mad at me for some reason, but I knew from experience that people can’t stay mad at dogs forever.
One day when CJ came home it was late enough that the sun had set. She hugged me for a long time and was sad and upset. Then we went into her bathroom and she vomited. I yawned and paced anxiously—I never knew what to do when this happened. CJ and I both looked up at the same time and there was Gloria standing in the doorway, watching us.
“You wouldn’t have to do that so often if you didn’t eat so much,” Gloria said.
“Oh, mo-ther,” CJ replied. She stood and went to her sink and drank water.
“How did your auditions go?” Gloria asked.
“Terrible. I didn’t get anything. It’s like, you have to have been doing drama this whole year or they won’t even consider casting you.”
“Well. If they don’t want my daughter in their summer play, it’s their loss. It hardly matters—no one ever got to be an actress by being in plays in high school.”
“That’s right, Gloria. Who ever heard of an actor acting?”
“I am just saying that I never sang in high school and it didn’t slow me down one bit.”
“I am noticing all the record companies beating down our door lately.”
Gloria crossed her arms. “I had a very promising career until I got pregnant with you. Once you have a bab
y, it’s all different.”
“What are you saying, you couldn’t sing anymore because you’d had a baby? Did you deliver me through your esophagus?”
“You’ve never thanked me, not once.”
“I’m supposed to thank you for giving birth? Seriously? Do they make cards for that, like: ‘Thanks for letting me hang out in your uterus for nine months’?”
I launched myself up and landed with expert placement at the foot of the bed.
“Get off!” Gloria snapped.
Guiltily I jumped down and slumped to the floor, my head lowered.
“It’s okay, Molly. You’re a good girl,” CJ soothed. “What do you got against dogs, Gloria?”
“I just don’t see the attraction. They’re messy and foul smelling. They lick. They don’t do anything useful.”
“You’d feel different if you just spent time with one,” CJ replied, petting me.
“I have. My mother had a dog when I was little.”
“You never told me that.”
“She used to kiss it on the mouth; it was disgusting,” Gloria continued. “She was always loving it up. It was fat and it just lay in her lap all day and didn’t do anything useful, just sat and watched me clean the house.”
“Well, Molly’s not like that.”
“You spend all your money on dog food and vet bills when there are so many nice things we could buy.”
“Now that I have Molly, I don’t need anything else.” CJ scratched my ear and I leaned into it, groaning a little.
“I see. The dog gets all the credit and your mother gets nothing.” Gloria turned away and walked out the door. CJ got up and shut it and then cuddled with me on the bed.
“We’re getting out of here as soon as we can, I promise, Molly,” CJ said. I licked her in the face.
I was a good dog who was taking care of Ethan’s child, but it wasn’t just because it was what he would want. I loved CJ. I loved falling asleep in her arms and walking with her and going to do art building.
What I didn’t love was the boy named Shane who started coming over all the time. Gloria was very often not home in the evening, so Shane and CJ would cuddle on the couch. Shane’s hands smelled of the same smoke that permeated CJ’s clothing. He always said hello to me, but I could tell he didn’t really like me—the way he petted me was too perfunctory. A dog can always tell.
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