by Wayne Smith
Uncle Ted’s face went white with fear, but Mom’s back was turned and she didn’t see it. “So . . . what did he find?” he managed to say.
“Nothing,” Mom answered. “It took some effort, but he finally got Thor to come in. He was really pissed when he got back to bed.”
“So what do you think it was all about?” Uncle Ted asked, a little too nonchalantly.
“I have no idea, but I’m not too worried. Thor barks at practically everything.”
“Well, I don’t know, sis. Big predators can travel awfully long distances if their habitat runs dry. Just because the woods here haven’t had anything dangerous recently, doesn’t mean they’ll always be safe. If I were you, I wouldn’t let the kids play out there for a while, until—” He stopped short.
“Yes? Until what?”
“I don’t know. I must be getting confused. I was thinking for a second about the wolf near my house. I was going to say, ‘until this thing blows over.’ But anyway, it just proves my point: There aren’t supposed to be wolves where I live, and look what happened to that girl. I just think you should be more cautious, all of you, and take the dog more seriously. And don’t let him go out there, either.”
“Ted, don’t you think you overdoing it a little? Thor isn’t exactly helpless, you know.”
“How big is he? In pounds, I mean.”
“Are you ready for this? Ninety-three pounds!”
“You know how big gray wolves get? Up to a hundred seventy-five!”
“Ted, give me a break! The dog starts barking in the night, and now you’ve got a hundred and seventy-five pound wolf at the door! It’s not exactly like dogs never bark in the night. Are you feeling okay?”
She put down the iron and looked at her brother. “Listen, Ted,” she said, “I know you’ve been going through hell for a while now, but you’ve got to try to take it easy. Relax. You’re turning into a bundle of nerves. Ever since you got here, you’ve been as jumpy as a cat, and the last couple of nights it’s gotten worse. I really think you should consider . . . seeing someone.”
Uncle Ted snorted. “And I don’t suppose you mean a date, do you?” Mom looked at the floor, took a deep breath, then met his eyes.
“No, Ted, I don’t. I’m afraid for you. I’ve never seen you like this, and I don’t know what to do. You’re drifting further and further away, and I don’t mean from me. I mean from everyone and everything.” Tears welled up in her eyes and her voice wavered. “Oh, Ted.”
She choked back a sob, then broke down and cried, face in her hands, knees trembling. Uncle Ted rushed to her and took her in his arms.
Thor snapped to alarmed attention, his fur standing on his shoulders. If Mom cried out or tried to get away from Uncle Ted, Thor was ready to attack him without hesitation.
But Mom took succor from Uncle Ted’s embrace. Uncle Ted gently guided her to the kitchen table and sat her down, then went to the stove and turned on the burner under the tea kettle. He looked over his shoulder at her as she dabbed her eyes with a napkin, then turned his face to the stove. He gripped the stove with both hands and spoke to the burners.
“I wish there was something you could do to help me, but there isn’t. If I weren’t such a selfish, cowardly bastard, I wouldn’t even be here.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’m leaving. Today.”
Mom looked up, startled.
“No, Ted! You can’t! Where would you go?”
“I don’t know,” he said with his back still turned to her. “But I have to. It’s not right, me being here, taking advantage of you.”
“You’re not—” Mom began, but Uncle Ted cut her off.
“I am taking advantage of you, and the fact that you don’t realize it doesn’t make it any better.” He took another breath and said, “I have to go.”
Mom got up and tentatively put a hand on his back to massage the muscles between his shoulders. Uncle Ted didn’t respond. She leaned against his back and ran her hands down his arms and took hold of his wrists, and he flinched and gasped. She immediately let go and decided against asking why his wrists were sore. She was afraid to find out.
“Ted, don’t go,” she pleaded. “Stay for me. Please. If you go now, it’ll kill me. Please don’t.” She knew her brother well enough to understand that he was talking suicide. She countered the only way she knew how, by threatening in kind.
Thor understood the conversation better than almost any other he’d ever heard. The depth of Uncle Ted’s guilt and despair, and the desperation and terror and love in Mom’s response left no doubt that they were discussing Uncle Ted’s possible demise.
But unlike Mom, Thor wasn’t bothered by the prospect. Uncle Ted’s departure would solve all of Thor’s problems.
What did bother Thor was the strength of Mom’s attachment to her brother. Every word that passed between them seemed to cement Uncle Ted’s position in the Pack.
“Promise me,” Mom whispered. “Promise me you’ll stay here until . . . until you work things out. Please.”
Uncle Ted let go of the counter and covered his face with his hands, unconsciously imitating his sister’s pose from moments before.
But he didn’t cry. He just stood that way for what seemed like an eternity, thinking. Finally, he said, “I’ll try.”
Chapter 11
Uncle Ted kept to himself for the rest of the day, retreating to his apartment after his laundry was done. Thor spent the day on the kitchen stoop, watching the door to Uncle Ted’s apartment. Dad got home early for a change, and under orders from Mom, he dragged Uncle Ted out of hiding and into the house to be with the family. The Pack seemed determined to make Uncle Ted a full-fledged member.
Uncle Ted worked hard to conceal his depression in Dad’s presence, and he did a good job, too. The two of them sat together in the living room, drinking beer and talking while they ignored the TV news. After a while, Uncle Ted seemed as relaxed as any Good Dog. At one point, Dad grunted himself out of his chair and grabbed the remote control. He muted the set and flipped through the channels and found a National Geographic special, which he left on with no sound.
“You were there, weren’t you?” he asked Uncle Ted. The screen showed the Serengeti Plain in Africa.
“No, but I could’ve gone. I got an offer last year.” Dad was sorry he’d asked. Uncle Ted had turned down the offer because he was in mourning. Uncle Ted deftly changed the subject.
“Check this out,” he said, and he nodded his head toward the dog. Thor, who was lying between them on the floor like a library lion, had just straightened his posture a little to get a better view of the TV. The image on the screen was a cheetah stalking a wildebeest. Both animals appeared in profile. Their shapes and behavior were unmistakable, and Thor was fascinated.
“Well, how do you like that?” Dad said. “I always wondered if they can see what’s on the screen. I guess he just wasn’t interested in car chases and bouncy blondes.”
Uncle Ted laughed.
“For sure!” Uncle Ted said. “It was proved conclusively on Stupid Pet Tricks, on David Letterman. This lady had a dog who watched TV all the time, and he was totally cool as long as there weren’t animals on screen. Humans, yes, animals no. As soon as he saw a dog on screen, he went crazy. It was wild! He was jumping and snapping at the set like a maniac. And as soon as the animals left the screen, he calmed down. Fucking amazing!”
The profile views of the cheetah and the wildebeest were gone, and so was Thor’s interest in the TV.
“I wonder what he thinks of the stereo,” Dad said, almost to himself. “You know, it doesn’t matter what’s playing, classical, jazz, noise-rock — he acts like he doesn’t even hear it.”
“Oh, he does. He just knows it’s irrelevant, that’s all.”
“But how does he know it’s irrelevant?” Dad said. “I mean, some of Teddy’s records sound like the end of the goddamn world. And he plays them loud. But the dog just lies there like he’s deaf.”
“It’
s directional,” Uncle Ted said without a moment’s thought. “He’s learned that the meaningless sounds, the ones that never result in anything happening, always come from the exact same spot in the room, no matter what they sound like or how loud they are. So he learns to ignore any sound that comes from that spot.” Uncle Ted noticed Dad looking at him wonderingly. “I’m . . . speculating. I’ve wondered about it myself, given it a lot of thought.”
Dad thought that was an odd answer, considering Uncle Ted had never owned a dog. And he didn’t sound like he was speculating. But Dad didn’t say anything about it.
“Hey, I’ve got an idea!” Uncle Ted offered. “Hey, Janet! Call the dog, will you?”
“Here, Thor!” Mom answered from the kitchen. Thor looked up but didn’t move.
“Thor!” Mom repeated. “C’mere!” Thor sat up at attention, but still didn’t budge.
“Hey!” Dad snapped. He reached down and gave Thor a light slap on his rump. Thor looked around, startled. “Get out there!” Dad said, annoyed. Thor stood up and sullenly walked into the kitchen. The slow click of his claws on the hardwood floor spoke eloquently of his reluctance to leave the living room. As soon as he was in the kitchen, Uncle Ted called, “Now put him out!” Mom opened the kitchen door, and after some ordering, reordering, and angry foot-stomping, she dragged him onto the back stoop.
“Okay,” Uncle Ted said, rubbing his hands mischievously and hunkering down in front of the stereo cabinet. “Where’s the microphone for your cassette deck?” He and Mom had mailed each other cassette-letters back before there was e-mail, so he knew there was a mike around somewhere. Dad opened a drawer next to the cabinet and pulled out a cheap plastic Radio Shack microphone.
“Okay, here’s what you do,” Ted said conspiratorially, explaining his plan in hushed tones as if there were a spy in the room.
* * * *
Mom thought it was odd that Thor didn’t want to go out. He always wanted to go out, and yet this time he’d resisted. And when she finally got him out, there was another surprise; instead of joining the kids, who were playing in the backyard, he ran around the house and onto the front porch, for no apparent reason.
Mom went back to the stove, turned down the gas under the instant mashed potatoes, and started toward the living room to see what was going on.
Dad and Uncle Ted were snickering in front of the cassette deck as she entered the room. Dad had the microphone in his hand. He was about to record something.
“Look at that,” Mom said, pointing to the window. Thor stood on the porch with his paws on the windowsill, watching them.
“What the . . ?” Dad said. He’d never seen Thor do anything like it before.
“Hm,” Uncle Ted said, sounding disappointed. “We can’t do this with him there. Let’s see if the kids can get him to stay in the backyard.”
Mom gave Dad a look that said, What’s going on here? but Dad just shrugged. He was having fun and obviously wanted to try whatever Uncle Ted had suggested.
It wasn’t easy, but they finally got Teddy to drag Thor into the backyard on a leash, where Teddy tethered him to a fence post. Throughout the operation, Thor’s eyes and ears never left the house. He thought he heard Dad calling him at one point, and he barked and strained at the leash, choking himself in the process. Brett wanted to unleash him, but Teddy wouldn’t let him.
“He’s doing it to himself,” Teddy said callously. “If he doesn’t want to choke, he can stop pulling.”
The muffled sound of Dad’s voice inside the house faded. Thor lay on the ground as close to the house as he could, with the leash pulled taut. He never once looked around at the kids playing in the yard.
Uncle Ted had not only insinuated himself into the Pack, he’d also managed to separate Thor from his Duty. Things were bad and getting worse. He watched the house and worried.
A few endless minutes passed, and Mom stuck her head out the kitchen door.
“Okay, you can let him go!” she called. Brett undid the clasp at Thor’s collar and he dashed across the yard and through the kitchen door, which Mom thoughtfully held open for him.
He ran into the living room in a state of high alert. When he saw everything was normal, he excitedly kissed Dad’s hands and wagged his tail as if he hadn’t seen him all day. He hardly glanced at Uncle Ted. His only concern was that Dad was okay.
Whatever they’d done, it didn’t show. Everything looked and smelled the same as before. Dad and Uncle Ted sat in the same chairs, watching TV. Thor relaxed and made himself comfortable on the floor between them, and forgot about their mysterious behavior.
The rich soup of aromas from the kitchen became overwhelming and Mom called everyone in for dinner.
Thor lay on the floor a few feet from the table, ignoring the food in his dish. He didn’t have much appetite lately, and even the promise of table scraps for dessert couldn’t arouse his interest.
“So what’s the big secret?” Mom asked Uncle Ted after settling into her seat.
“You’ll see,” Uncle Ted said, smiling mischievously. “After dinner.”
Dad asked Uncle Ted about the Amazon Basin, where he had once spent over a year photographing insects, and the table conversation quickly led off into geography. The big secret was almost forgotten by the time everyone finished eating. Mom was collecting the plates when Uncle Ted brought the subject up.
“Okay,” he explained, “the best way to do this is to move the table, so we can all see the living room from our seats. That way, we can act like nothing is going on while we watch.” He and Dad lifted the table and scooted it into position as the kids followed with their chairs. Brett got Mom’s chair for her while she put the last dishes in the dishwasher.
“Ted,” Uncle Ted said (winning a few points with his nephew by not calling him “Teddy” or “Little Ted”), “would you go into the living room and press the ‘play’ button on the cassette deck? Everything is set up, so all you have to do is start the tape, then come back and have a seat. Janet, come on and sit down.”
Teddy did as he was asked and joined the family at the table. No sound came from the stereo.
Then, about thirty seconds later, Thor was startled by the sound of Dad’s voice in the living room.
“Here, Thor!” it called out cheerily. “C’mere, Thor!” Thor scrambled to his feet, looked briefly at Dad, then dashed to the living room, looked around, and looked back into the kitchen, where Dad sat smiling at the table. From behind him in the living room, Dad called again. “Thor! Come here! C’mere, Thor!”
Thor ran to the left stereo speaker and peered at it quizzically with his head cocked at a forty-five degree angle. Except for the difference in breed and color, he looked just like Nipper, the dog in the old RCA Victor trademark, “His Master’s Voice.” But just as Thor was examining the left speaker, Dad’s voice said, “Over here, Thor!” from the right one.
Thor jumped and ran to the right speaker, just as Dad’s voice came out of the left speaker again. “No, no. Over here!” Thor stayed put and looked into the kitchen, where Dad sat at the table, laughing with the rest of the Pack. “Come here, Thor!” Dad’s voice said from behind him. Thor spun around and barked angrily at the speaker. The Pack laughed so hard they appeared to be in pain. Tears rolled down Mom’s cheeks, and Brett was literally rolling on the floor, holding his stomach.
As Dad’s voice continued to beckon him, first to one speaker then to the other, Thor decided the correct response was to ignore the stereo as he’d always done. It wasn’t easy. The voice in the speakers wasn’t Dad, and yet it sounded just like him. The timing, the inflections, the pitch and timbre . . . But it still wasn’t Dad. Dad was in the kitchen, in plain sight. With great difficulty, Thor resolved to ignore the phantom voice of Dad.
Besides, he didn’t like being laughed at.
Thor did plenty of things that made the Pack laugh, but it was never like this.
The first time he pulled Teddy’s buttons off for teasing him, Dad had just ab
out laughed himself to death. But Dad’s laughter wasn’t ridiculing him — on the contrary, it told Thor that Dad was proud of him, impressed by his resourcefulness.
This laughter was different; it said that the Pack was amused by his confusion.
Thor did nothing to show his feelings, but inwardly he was mortified.
He walked back into the kitchen, ignoring the laughter and trying to act as if nothing had happened, while the tape-recorded calls continued to beckon from the living room. Thor grunted and plopped down sulkily on the floor, and Dad told Teddy to turn off the stereo.
“That’s the funniest thing I ever saw,” Dad said as he wiped tears from his face.
“Yeah,” Uncle Ted agreed. “It was nice to get a little reprieve, too.”
Dad looked at him oddly.
“What do you mean?”
“Haven’t you noticed?” Uncle Ted asked.
“Noticed what?” Mom said.
“Watch,” Uncle Ted said. He got up and nonchalantly walked to the living room window, where he stood gazing at the street. A few seconds later, Thor got up as if he were bored and just looking for a change of scene. He wandered into the living room and lay down on the floor with a view of Uncle Ted.
As soon as Thor made himself comfortable, Uncle Ted turned away from the window and walked back into the kitchen. Thor immediately got up and followed him back, with his nose not more than six inches behind Uncle Ted’s heels. Thor never took his eyes off the floor the whole time.
Uncle Ted sat down, and Thor dropped himself onto the floor. Uncle Ted got up and walked back to the living room. After a moment’s pause, Thor got up and followed. Before Thor had a chance to sit down in the living room, Uncle Ted came back into the kitchen. Thor followed so closely that Mom was afraid Uncle Ted might accidentally kick Thor’s nose with his heels. Uncle Ted sat back down, and Thor sat behind his chair.