by B. G. Thomas
Jake looked at him and nodded. As if he were telling Ned the story as well.
“And they found a dog in his house. A brown Lab. At least that’s what Lil thought he was, and….” Jake’s eyes went wide. “Holy shit, Wilma….”
Ned barked all the more. Yes! I’m the same dog. In fact—
Was that the first time he’d ever heard Jake swear?
—I’m him. I’m Ned!
“I’m going to have to call and find out! If it is, Jesus, the coincidence is too much!”
Tell me about it, thought Ned. Tell me about it!
11
THAT NIGHT Jake had him right up in the bed without hesitation. Ned had been a mess since Jake had decided he might be the dog found in Ned’s very own house. It was too much. It had thrown him into complete disarray. He didn’t truly calm down until the lights were out and Jake spooned up behind him. The trembling finally calmed and came to a stop as Jake cooed to him and told him that everything would be all right.
Ned finally twisted his neck back and licked Jake’s face. He couldn’t help it. It calmed him and expressed in the only way he could how grateful he was for Jake’s kindness. It was a kindness he hadn’t felt directed toward him in a long time.
“That’s not really true.”
Ned stiffened. It was the Voice.
“And if you stop and think about it, you would know that. Lillian for one. She loves you dearly. Cliff did too until you kept pushing him away. Ignoring him.”
I didn’t ignore him!
“Stop that! You did. You’re at Balding Adhesives twelve hours a day, not counting the traveling time. You go in on weekends. When did you ever have time for him?”
I didn’t have a choice! Dad died, and everything was dropped in my lap.
“That’s not true and you know that too.”
What? Was I supposed to let Perry take over? He can’t keep a job as a waiter at IHOP. How was he going to do it? And Patricia thinks of nothing but her kids.
“Did you ask her?”
I didn’t need to.
“Why not? And Perry. He didn’t need to be in charge. But maybe if you let him help. Gave him some responsibility—”
Perry couldn’t keep goldfish alive, let alone—
“But with a loving older brother to watch over him? Encourage him? Aren’t older brothers supposed to watch over their kid brothers? And maybe your sister would like to get away from her children now and again. What’s she going to do when they’re all in school?”
Well, I….
And Ned realized he didn’t have an answer to that.
“The name of the business is Balding Adhesives, after all. Not Ned Balding Adhesives.”
Ned froze.
“You okay, boy?” Jake gave him a little squeeze and rubbed his chest.
But his mind was still awhirl.
Was there any truth to that?
Jesus….
Had he asked Patricia if she was interested?
“You know you didn’t” came the Voice again. “You assumed.”
Jesus….
“Think of how she’s been since you took over.”
He thought about it. Reserved. Distant. But he’d figured it was because of their father dying.
“Really, Ned? Your father was a bastard to the three of you. Did you think she was still mourning the man?”
Good God….
“Hey, boy…. Tell me what’s wrong.” Jake pulled him closer.
And bit by bit, he began to calm down.
“Everything’s going to be all right, I promise. And I’ll tell you what. I’ll have my friend Lillian over to see if she recognizes you.”
Lillian?
“How does that sound?”
He twisted around and licked Jake’s face again.
Jake laughed. “Okay. That’s what I’ll do. Meanwhile, you get some rest, okay?”
And then, oh God, he began to sing softly to Ned. Sing a Christmas carol!
“Silent night! Holy night! All is calm, all is bright.”
But by God it was soothing, wasn’t it? Odd….
“Round yon Virgin, Mother and Child.”
There was nothing he could do about Balding Adhesives now, was there?
“Holy Infant so tender and mild.”
So why not follow Jake’s advice? Take it easy.
“Sleep in heavenly peace.”
He relaxed against the human.
“Sleep in heavenly peace.”
And he did.
12
LILLIAN DIDN’T come over the next few nights.
Instead they did stuff.
Mostly walks.
Tobogganing. Ned was terrified at first, and everyone was staring. But Jake was determined. It was a simple sled of wood bent upward in front to form a J. Jake climbed aboard, pulled Ned between his legs, wrapped his arms around him—“Do you trust me, Boy?” and wow, Ned realized he did—and down the steep hill they went! What the thing lacked in skis and runners, it made up for in old-school style. It was like flying, and after he got over the first terrifying plunge—heart pounding, he leapt off at the bottom and let out a deluge of excited barks—he found he couldn’t wait to do it again. It was the freest he’d felt since his imprisonment in his canine body.
A big burly man shook his head, laughing, and shouted to them, “A boy and his dog. Wonderful!”
The snow went away for a couple of days, and Jake took him to the dog park. And while he didn’t care for the other dogs—they seemed to know he wasn’t one of them—and he didn’t care for them sniffing his ass, he did find an astounding joy in running.
Running hard and fast and free. Free like the sledding and more. He could control where he went.
Why, he used to love to run all the time, didn’t he? He’d been in track and field in high school and done well. He’d won a medal in a regional event. He and Cliff used to run. He’d loved that. They’d been members of the Frontrunners at one time. That had been fun.
Running hard and fast and free.
Oh, and the friends they’d made with the other members of the group! Barbecues and picnics and late-night cocktails.
But he hadn’t stopped all that due to Balding Adhesives. He’d stopped long before that.
Why?
He couldn’t remember.
Ned didn’t know whether to be surprised or not when Jake got the tree out. Because of course Jake would put up a tree. But it was the kind of tree. A huge aluminum tree. Just like his mother used to put up when Ned was a kid, before his father had decreed it too tacky. God. Jake even had the rotating plastic color wheel that turned the silver foil into shining, shimmering red and blue, yellow and green. Oh, how Ned had loved that tree! But once more he was hit with how different things were now. This wheel was brown, blue, yellow, and a slightly darker yellow. God. So strange. And hurtful somehow. He’d gotten almost used to the color changes—or at least somewhat accepted them. But the color wheel. It made him feel somehow… cheated. To have his childhood memory… messed with.
“I know it’s early,” Jake said. “But I think we need a little Christmas right now. Or I do.”
Ned let out a bark.
“I usually wait until Thanksgiving Day, and Bruce didn’t want me to set it up until Christmas Day! Can you believe that? Set it up for a day?”
Ned woofed that no, he couldn’t believe it.
And that the more he heard, the more he was thinking that Bruce was an asshole!
Jake sighed. “What can I say? I guess I was addicted to him, you know? Because it was so good. We were so good. It was a fairy tale! Did I tell you he took me to the prom?”
Ned ruffed that he had heard something about that.
“I don’t know where it went wrong. Not really. I guess I was wearing blinders.”
Ned nodded.
Blinders. He was learning something about that.
He thought of Balding Adhesives.
He wondered what was happening to it.
/> How long had he been “missing” now? It was hard to tell time in this body.
“I think I kept hoping he… we… would go back to the way it used to be.”
God. Ned knew about that too, didn’t he?
Back to when he didn’t need to run the company. He could just work there. That, he’d liked. A lot. And he and Cliff had time to do all kinds of things.
“I would ask people—straight or gay—who’ve been in relationships for their whole lives what their secret was—”
The Frontrunners. The Gay Men’s Dinner Club—how much they’d loved their turn at hosting every now and again.
“—and they said to stick to it, even when they hated each other. Because they would fall back in love again.”
Mardi Gras. Morocco. San Francisco.
“I figured I was in it for better or worse, not just better.”
Why had he and Cliff stopped all those things? The dinner club because of Balding Adhesives, but not everything. Some of that they’d stopped before Ned’s father died. Jesus. Hadn’t Cliff asked him why that was a thousand times?
“You’re okay on that front, Neddie boy.”
God, the Voice again!
“He had his fair share of the blame there. That wasn’t just you. But it was part you.”
“I so wanted it to work,” Jake lamented. “I wanted to be with him all my life!”
Was there any way to fix things? If he weren’t a dog, could he fix things with Cliff?
“I’d let that one go, I’m afraid. That boat has sailed. Cliff has moved on. Even I can’t work that kind of Christmas miracle.”
He’s moved on…. He is with someone, then, isn’t he?
No answer from the Voice. Silence.
But not from Jake.
“It’s hard not to feel cheated. I’m almost thirty. I’d have to be eighty to celebrate my fiftieth anniversary.”
I’d have to be near ninety….
“Why can’t I find a man like you, Boy? A dog’s love is unconditional.”
Bruce is a freaking fool. But there seems to be a lot of that going around.
“You know what Marilyn Monroe said about dogs?” Jake kissed the top of Ned’s head. “She said, ‘Dogs never bite me. Just humans.’”
Ooof, thought Ned.
“Why can’t a man be more like that?”
Why indeed….
13
THERE WAS a scary moment when two cops came by the next evening. The older one was grouchy, paunchy, and balding. He introduced himself as Detective Townsend. His partner, Brookhart, was a slim, fit woman with short dark hair and pretty dark eyes. Not as pretty as Jake’s, of course.
They had been assigned Ned’s missing person case. One more blinding irony in all of this. As the three of them sat at Jake’s little dining room table, Ned—the missing person—circled them and sometimes wedged himself against Jake, who scratched him behind the ears and set his leg to shaking. God, he wished he knew why it did that, but he had no more chance of stopping it than he did of stopping being a dog.
“So you didn’t see Mr. Balding that night? Maybe after work?” Townsend said, as if daring Jake to deny it.
Jake shook his head. “No. After we talked—”
“Talked?” Townsend asked. “Because the way I heard it, Mr. Balding was shouting at you.”
Jake sighed, and the acrid smell of sweat came off him.
“You sure maybe he didn’t piss you off?”
Oh Christ, thought Ned. Is that why they’re here?
“Piss me off?” Jake looked back and forth between the two police detectives. “No. He hurt my feelings. A lot. He said I was being stupid because I was upset my dog died….”
Townsend shot Ned a look.
“Not that dog of course. My dog Coco—” He pulled out his cell phone and began playing with it. “—who I had for a long, long time.” He showed them both an image on the screen.
“Looks a lot like this one,” Townsend said, tilting his head in Ned’s direction.
Jake looked at Ned. They locked eyes. Jake shook his head. “I could spot Coco in a lineup. And I think I’ll be able to do the same with Boyo here soon.” He smiled. “I know he could pick me out.”
“His name is Boyo?”
Jake shook his head again. “No. It’s just hard naming this one. He’s pretty insistent.”
Townsend scoffed. “Really?”
“Hey, Boyo,” said Brookhart. She leaned on her knees. “You’re a beautiful dog, you know that?”
Ned went to her. Sniffed. She had a good smell. Cool and silver and moonlight. She held out a hand, and he gave it a little lick without compunction. She smiled and scratched him behind the ears.
“I would still like to know what you did the evening after your little… discussion with Lillian Cobbs. I heard there was some yelling going on between them too.”
“Are you asking me if I have an alibi?” Jake asked, eyes wide and that acrid smell growing.
“Well, as a matter of fact, I am.”
Ned growled. For God’s sake! He’s the only one actually helping me.
“You need to watch your dog,” Townsend said with a canine curl to his lip.
“Oh for God’s sake, Cain,” Brookhart said. “It’s plain he just doesn’t like you. He’s got good taste.”
Townsend flashed her a look complete with daggers.
“The truth is, I don’t have an alibi. I came straight home after work and watched some episodes of the new season of Orange Is the New Black. I can’t afford cable, but my ex let me have the Roku, and I can pay the $9.99 a month for Netflix. You guys don’t think someone hurt Mr. Balding, do you? He wasn’t everybody’s favorite guy, but I don’t think anyone would want to hurt him.”
“Then why would a man who hasn’t missed a day of work in two years and always arrives promptly at six every morning disappear and not leave so much as a note?”
Jake shook his head, and more scent began to come off Ned’s human. That scent of rotting grapes and wine gone to vinegar that Ned hated. “I don’t know. But I sure would like to. I like Mr. Balding.”
“From what I’ve heard, you must be about the only one.”
Jesus, thought Ned. He stepped back. Whined. Really?
“He does sound kind of like Mr. Scrooge,” Brookhart said. “People are saying some pretty… unkind things about him.”
They made it sound like everyone hated him. People didn’t hate him, did they? He sat. Let out a little cry again.
They hadn’t always. He knew that. He was sure of that. When had people started hating him?
“When you started being hateful” came the Voice.
There was a knock on the door then, and before anyone could do anything about it, it swung open and Wilma walked in. She looked almost completely male today, with only a hint of makeup, and pink culottes. At least Ned thought that was what color they were. It was hard to tell with the strange blue/yellow thing going on. She was barefoot, of course, and Ned thought maybe her toenails were also pink. “Jake! I need two cups of sugar, and I—Lawd!” She spread her fingers dramatically over her chest, braless and flat today. “What are the po-lease doing here?”
Jake stood, spread his arms. “They’re just asking about my boss.”
“Is Mister Man still missing?” she asked dramatically.
“Indeed he is,” said Townsend.
Wilma took a step back. “Oh my. Talking about Mister Man!”
“They were wanting to know where I was the night he disappeared, and I was telling them I don’t have a—”
“You was here,” Wilma said.
Brookhart sat up straight. “How would you know that?” she asked.
“Cuz he was listening to Orange Is the New Black. These walls is mighty thin, Lady Officer. You should hear him diddling with himself with some porn late at night.”
“Wilma!” Jake cried.
“Probably something from Raging Stallion or Steam Engine. Those are his favorites.”
“Disgusting,” said Townsend.
Brookhart rolled her eyes. “Well, I think that gives Mr. Carrara an alibi now. If we could just get your name, sir?” she asked.
“Why did I choose this moment to come get me some sugar?” Wilma asked.
“Well,” Brookhart replied. “It’s a good thing you did. You’ve just helped Mr. Carrara quite a bit.”
They left soon after that.
Wilma stayed long enough to tell Jake one thing. Something that touched Ned very deeply.
“I did hear the TV, that night,” she said. “I mean… I must have. But I didn’t know what you was watching. And these walls are mighty thin. Because that’s how I heard them grillin’ you. I got home and saw the po-lease car, and then I heard them talking, and I took one of my Christmas glasses and put it to the wall and heard what they was sayin’.”
“And you came over here and gave me an alibi,” Jake said, his eyes shimmering.
“Indeed I did,” Wilma answered. “Because it’s always been the cops against the gays. And we got to stick together.”
Jake hugged her tight, and Ned ran around them and jumped up on them to show his love too.
Wilma pulled back. “Girl! You keep that dog offa me! I don’t want these China pinks to get messed up! I’ll never get the dirt outta it!”
Well at least he knew the “pants” were indeed pink.
China pink.
14
LILLIAN CAME over the next night. Ned couldn’t remember when he’d been so happy to see her. And she was one of the few people lately that he was happy to see.
He jumped and barked and circled her in a joyous spin of energy.
“I….” She laughed. “Gosh. I’m not sure if this is the same dog or not!” She put her hands on her hips. “Could be. But remember. The dog at Ned’s place scared me.”
Scared you?
He stopped. Hung his head in shame.
“Goodness,” she said. “It’s like he really can understand me.”
“I told you,” Jake said.
She was scared. He could tell. He could smell it on her. Jesus, what have I done to scare Lillian?