Sometimes the Best Presents Can’t Be Wrapped

by B. G. Thomas

You growled at her. Barked at her like you were going to attack her!

  I have to show her I won’t hurt her. What would a dog do…?

  Then he knew. Recalled it somehow. He lay down on the floor. Then rolled over on his back. Yes, he was exposing himself. But wasn’t this a way of showing subservience or something?

  And trust…. It showed trust.

  He looked up at Lil. Tried a doggie smile.

  She laughed.

  “Awwwww…. Aren’t you a sweetie?”

  She squatted down next to him. Rubbed his chest. It was weird coming from Lillian and he knew she’d be just as embarrassed, or maybe ten times more so, if she knew it was him. But he had to do this.

  She looked at Jake. “I don’t know, Jake. I only saw him for a minute. And Labs all sorta look the same, don’t they?”

  “I could have picked out Coco in a lineup. I think I could Boy too.”

  “You’re calling him Boy?”

  “He wants me to call him Ned!”

  Lillian looked at Ned goggle-eyed. “You’re not, are you?”

  “Of course not.”

  Ned barked. Why not, dammit?

  “See?” Jake said.

  He couldn’t stand this! Maybe if he got in her face. Right in her face!

  So Ned did it. He moved in and put his face up to hers—she only flinched for a second—stared into her eyes… stared… and hoped. Hoped with everything in him.

  Finally, hers went wide. “Geez,” she said. “His eyes…. They’re….”

  “I know! Right?” Jake cried.

  But Ned was barely listening. He missed that she had reacted just as he wished her to. Because there was a smell. Coming off her breath. Like something rotting. His skin crawled. His hair stood up. His gut clenched. His tail went stiff. It was as if he were smelling something dying.

  No!

  Ned all but went crazy. He jumped up and put his feet on her knees and barked in her face. She let out a little shout and fell back on her butt, and he straddled her and howled.

  “Jake!” she screamed. “Help me!”

  No! I’m not trying to hurt you!

  “Boy! What the hell are you doing?”

  Ned looked up at Jake with pleading eyes. Please, Jake. Please. There’s something wrong with her!

  Jake was coming at him. He had fear and anger in his eyes, and it was shocking. Ned wanted to cry in frustration. To weep. He had to get Jake to understand. But how? Please, Jake. Please!

  And then Jake froze.

  “Jake!” Lillian again. She was clearly terrified. “Please!”

  It killed Ned to hear his beloved friend like this.

  But what could he do?

  “Boy…. What is it?”

  Ned went slack. Got down and curled up and whined. Whimpered.

  “Lillian,” Jake said. “He’s not trying to hurt you.”

  She didn’t respond with anything but a moan.

  Jake reached out. Grabbed Ned’s collar. “Boy? What’s wrong?”

  Ned looked up at him. Whined again. Tried to figure out how to tell them something he didn’t understand. He got up. Circled around to Lil’s side. He looked at her. Cried. And then ever so carefully, he licked her cheek.

  Her eyes went wide again. But this time… she didn’t seem to be afraid.

  Ned licked her again. Then sniffed. Drew in a deep breath, let air out his nose’s side slits, drew in even deeper.

  Then knew. Knew.

  He carefully, ever so carefully, nudged her left breast. It was strange to do that with his face. But what else could he do?

  He nudged her there again.

  And let out a long slow cry….

  Lillian pushed away from him. Crabbed back. Her face… he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. And he couldn’t smell it either, because all he could smell was that rotting smell.

  She’s sick. She needs to get to a doctor.

  “Make him go away,” she said.

  The words hurt. She was still afraid. But he didn’t think she was afraid of him anymore. Not seriously afraid.

  Jake took his collar and pulled him back. “Boy. Go to bed.”

  Ned looked at Jake again. Especially the right side of his face. Ned was learning something. He could tell things better by looking on Jake’s right side. Ned’s left.

  He glanced back at Lillian. The right side. His left.

  Yes. Still afraid. But not so much of him…. He saw that now.

  “Boy. Bed!”

  Ned gave both Jake and Lillian two, three back-and-forth looks.

  Cried again.

  And turned and walked away.

  It was terrible. Terrible.

  15

  THREE DAYS later Jake got two phone calls.

  The first was from….

  “Honey? This is Lillian.”

  Jake stiffened. So did Ned. Both because he could hear her trembling voice over the phone and because of Jake’s body language.

  “Lil. You okay?”

  “I’m… I’m not sure. It’s too early….” Ned heard it! Heard the stifled sob. He leapt to his feet, let out a bark.

  “But that goddamned dog may have saved my life.”

  “What?” Jake asked, and Ned barked his inquiry as well.

  “Jake…. After I left there the other night, I kept thinking about what you said. And… well, this is going to sound crazy. B-but I had a dream where this old man—big guy with a thick white beard—told me to go to the doctor.”

  Jake gave an attempt at a laugh. “Sounds like Santa Claus….”

  “And… and Jake… I wound up getting a mammogram. I-I have cancer.”

  Ned barked. No! No!

  Jake held out a hand. “Take it easy,” he whispered, mouth away from the phone. Then, back to it: “Cancer. My God, Lil….”

  “B-but it’s practically microscopic. Not much bigger than a pinprick. I don’t have to get a mastectomy, but he does urge it. The doctor. But he’s a man, and men are always wanting women to chop off their boobs, and I’m getting a second opinion. I think I’m just going to go for the radiation instead.”

  Her voice cracked at the end and Jake was quick to ask if she wanted him to come over.

  “No.” Her voice hitched this time. “I want to be alone. And the next time I see you… I want to see that dog of yours too. And I am not quite ready for that.”

  “Oh, Lillian!” It was Jake’s turn to try to hold back a sob.

  Ned could only let out what he hoped were some soothing dog sounds.

  “I’ve got a lot to think about, and I’ll need you to help, Jake. But I’ve got Himself here.” Himself. Her nickname for her husband. “And he’s a good man. I don’t think I’ll tell him a dog and Santa Claus told me to go to the doctor. He’s too Flat Earther for that. But he’ll help me make the right decision. And of course there’s my brother Donnie. I want to wait there too. He’s liable to have an emotional reaction to bring the house down.”

  Which was true. Donovan was a very… colorful man, albeit a downright sweetheart.

  Ned froze for just a second. Tilted his head. Hmmm. When had he last thought favorably about a flamboyant gay man?

  Well, since before he took over the family business.

  That song that Cliff loved so much came to mind. Things that make you go hmm….

  The second call came from the guy who ran Four-Footed Friends. Pretty Man.

  “Jake. Good news! I think I found a home for the dog.”

  Jake stiffened. So did Ned. Both because he could hear Pretty Man’s awful horrible words and because of Jake’s body language. And for once his growing ability to read the man with his sense of smell was failing him. What was Jake thinking?

  Ned let out a long whine. Once more it was completely involuntary. He felt a great sadness—

  Because…. Because he didn’t want to go anywhere else!

  —and it came out as a doggie whine.

  For now at least, as long as he was a dog—and God, what if it wa
s forever?—this was where he belonged. With Jake in this awful smelly apartment building with pee in the stairwell and a drag queen with a way-over-the-top decorating style and faulty extension cords. With a man who took him tobogganing and let him hide behind a tree to do his business. Weren’t they becoming a team? The boy and his dog?

  His dog?

  Another wow. Because he had never wanted to belong to anyone before, had he? Not even Cliff. He’d always balked at any term that he felt made him nothing but a piece of property. It was why he hadn’t even wanted to get married. Now? He found he liked being with Jake.

  And if he ever got to be a man again, well, maybe he could get Jake to move in with him. As a roommate, of course. Because he had room for the guy. And this place was a firetrap. His house was big. It had a pool. Hadn’t Jake said something about loving to go swimming? He was sure he had. That Jake knew this place where you could go skinny-dipping, but Bruce had never wanted to go—and how he now thought it was because it could be a very sexually cruisy place at one end of the grounds and maybe Bruce knew some of the men who hung out there. Knew them because he’d been with them. Been with them sexually.

  The thought should have been enough to make Ned growl again—another of those often involuntary responses—but he was too worried about what was going to happen next.

  “Jake” came the voice over the cell phone again. “Did you hear me?”

  “A-a home?” Jake asked. “Y-you mean a foster home?”

  Ned ran up to him and whined again. Laid his head on Jake’s knee. Looked up at him as soulfully as he thought a dog could look. They locked eyes. And Jake had such big eyes—soulful eyes of his own. He gave Ned a weak smile and then, without looking away, said, “Because if that’s what you mean, there really isn’t a need. Boy is fine right—”

  “Is that what you’re calling him?”

  “Well you know….” He winked at Ned. “I didn’t think it was fair to give him a name if he wasn’t going to be living with me forever and—”

  “But that’s just it! There is this family with kids, and they’re looking for a dog and—”

  “God no!” Jake cried, actually jumping up from where he was seated. “You don’t want Boy with kids. He takes a special hand. You’re going to need people who are experienced with dogs that can be a little rough, you know? He could wind up biting some kid in the face, and then he’d have to be put down.”

  “Shit….”

  “And isn’t that why you put him with me? Because I’m so damned good with dogs?” Whoa! Jake had just sworn again.

  “I-I guess so” came the response. “It’s too bad, though. The family had a golden Lab before and were really hoping that—”

  “But he’s not a golden Lab, is he?” Jake asked. “He’s a chocolate. So that wouldn’t work, right?”

  “Well, I don’t think the color mattered so much as—”

  “Yeah, but the biting problem does. And I don’t want to see this guy hurt. He needs a very special hand. So, you let me work with him a little while longer, okay?”

  Ned stood back, tail wagging, and gave a happy little “Woof!”

  “Well, if you’re sure. I also told you I wouldn’t leave him there longer than necessary and—”

  “It’s okay,” Jake insisted. “Really.”

  They signed off then, and Ned threw himself—as much as he could—into Jake’s arms and covered his face in doggie kisses.

  He couldn’t have helped if he’d tried. The relief and joy were that great.

  Jake laughed and bore the wet licks and gave Ned little human kisses right on top of the head.

  And for some reason it wasn’t weird. In another world the whole experience would have been electrifying and certainly have led to more serious activity.

  Tonight?

  Well it was just a boy and his dog. And Ned wouldn’t have had it any other way.

  16

  JAKE TOOK Ned to Lillian’s for Thanksgiving.

  Ned couldn’t decide whether to be deeply depressed or overjoyed. Could he be both? He thought maybe he could. He was feeling both.

  Depression because Thanksgiving wasn’t at his house this year with the big gathering of friends and family from both his side and Cliff’s. And boy, if Cliff knew he was feeling this way, he would probably clutch his chest and cry, “This is the big one! You hear that, Elizabeth? I’m coming to join ya, honey!”

  Not that he was old enough to remember the original run of Sanford and Son, but there were repeats and DVDs, and Cliff had introduced him to actual episodes, and my oh my, there had been many nights with them binge-watching and laughing until they cried.

  We had such good times.

  Ned used to love hosting Thanksgiving. Loved it! The two of them prepared for days, and he took such pride in the turkey. Cliff’s mom brought her incredible stuffing, made totally from scratch, and that meant two kinds—because Ned always made his, which he’d taken years to perfect—but he would never think of telling her not to bring hers. It was that good.

  I’m never going to have her stuffing again, am I? Even if I ever become human again.

  And Perry would bring his cheesy potatoes, and it was so inappropriate serving them from a Crock-Pot, but God! were they delicious. Patricia brought deviled eggs that might actually be an improvement over their mother’s, and that wasn’t easy. But it allowed their mother time to make several pies—yes, from scratch—and they made Tippin’s pies look like something kids would make from mud. Always at least two pumpkin pies and, as a favor to Cliff’s mom, a sweet potato pie and then her wondrous cherry pie and….

  Oh no…! That eighteen-pound turkey was still in the deep freezer. Or was it? What was happening to his house? He had no idea. What about the pool? Was Mike still taking care of the pool? Boy, Mike had looked good in his Speedo taking care of the pool! If there had ever been anyone who made Ned even flirt with the idea of cheating, it had been Mike—big muscular hairy man. In fact, Cliff had admitted the same, which made it all better and…

  Ned froze. Mike. Cliff had been talking to a Mike when Lillian was talking to him on her cell phone. Good Christ! Was Cliff with Mike at the lake house? Mike Etchison? No. Oh no….

  Mike Etchison.

  A pool boy.

  My husband is divorcing me because of a pool boy.

  “A big strapping muscular leatherman who struts around as nearly naked at The Male Box during the drag shows as he does in a Speedo cleaning the pool.” Who had said that? Was that the Voice again?

  I’ve been replaced by a pool boy—hot or not. He could forgive Cliff a roll in the hay or two with the man. But to replace him with a man whose highest reading level while relaxing by their pool—a couple hours to work on his tan was a part of the deal—was Archie comic books?

  “They’re fun,” Mike had explained once. “I don’t have to think. It’s a relief after all I have on my mind.”

  “What does he have to think about?” Ned had asked Cliff that evening. “Whether to wear the black leather jock at The Male Box or be daring and wear the red one? Whether to vacuum the pool clockwise or counterclockwise in the green or purple thong?”

  “You’re so mean,” Cliff had said. “Why are you so mean? You didn’t used to be mean. Mike is a really nice guy. And he doesn’t overthink every-damned-thing!”

  Oh God! They’d been having an affair. And he hadn’t seen it. Right under his damned nose and he hadn’t seen it.

  “You were too damned busy.” The Voice again.

  Fuck you! he shouted at It. He growled.

  “You already told me that….”

  “You okay?” Jake asked him. They were in the car on their way to Lillian’s. Not that Ned could answer.

  So who was hosting Thanksgiving this year, then? Cliff and Mike? At the lake house? Good God! It wasn’t at the Woodbridge house, was it?

  My family!

  What are they doing?

  His useless brother—

  And damned if he didn
’t feel a little pang of guilt for saying that. Weird.

  —and his sister and husband and her monsters and….

  Geez if he didn’t feel it again.

  A spike in his chest.

  They hadn’t really been monsters in a couple of years. Since he’d made the deals with them on proper behavior at his house. And let them swim in the pool. It was heated, after all. Where else could they swim this time of year?

  He remembered suddenly rushing to Patricia’s to take her to the hospital the year Hubert—her husband—was out of town on business and….

  And God….

  How there wasn’t time. She was cresting when he got there, and he delivered the baby, hadn’t thought for one second that he was seeing his sister’s most private parts because it hadn’t mattered, and being there when that boy came into the world had been the most magical moment of his entire life and….

  You called him a monster.

  Little Ned.

  Who she named after you.

  Ned all but collapsed in the car seat. He let out a whine that turned into a long, long keen.

  “Boy? Boy! Are you okay?” Jake pulled over to the side of the road. “Are you okay, Boy? You’re scaring me.”

  All Ned could do was look up at him.

  Oh my God, Jake. When did this happen to me? When did I forget? When did I forget all the things that brought me such happiness? When did I turn into a big asshole? Why did I? Oh Jake! What have I done?

  He sat up and threw himself into Jake’s arms. Jake, who held him close and rocked him and kissed the top of his head and told him that everything was going to be all right.

  Then they were off again, and he tried not to wonder about such things because… God… all of it was killing him. Tearing his heart out. He even thought about leaping right out of the window—if the window hadn’t been rolled up.

  But somehow it got better when they got to Lillian’s. She and her husband and even the two yappy Pekingese greeted him and Jake with much joyful enthusiasm, and Lillian hugged him very tight as she whispered, voice catching, “Thank you, Boy. For saving my life.”

  His voice would have caught too, if doggie sounds could do that. His heart certainly swelled, and his inner thoughts hitched.