Different Kind of Beauty

by Sylvia McNicoll

  “Tell him ‘Forward’ again.”

  “Forward,” I told him. Nothing happened.

  “Forward!” I snapped. Stupid dog, how could he possibly show me up like this? You rely on the stupid animal and then he won’t do what he’s told.

  “Reach your hand up, Kyle,” January told me.

  I lifted my arm and my hand banged into a hanging branch. Since the last time I had walked this way, the wind or a storm must have snapped it. “Oh, geez. Did the dog understand that I might hit myself against that branch?”

  “Yes, he did,” January answered.

  Had I just flunked the interview? “Good dog, Good King.” I fumbled in my pocket for another one of the bones that Shawna had slipped me. Then I held it out. I wanted just to be grateful to the animal. He had saved me a scratch or a bump at the least. Still, I could feel my hand shaking. Don’t bite me. Don’t slobber, I willed silently instead. King took the cookie and I heard him crunching. I pulled back my hand. Phew.

  “Did you see the segment on the Discovery Channel about the guide dog that saved its owner from live wires downed by a storm?”

  “No.” I couldn’t help smiling and shaking my head.

  “What’s wrong?” January asked.

  “Nothing, nothing. It just seems that everyone in the world watched that program except me.”

  “Do you have any questions about the program, Kyle?”

  “Um, no…yes. Does anyone ever flunk?”

  “Not exactly. If we’ve accepted someone into the program, that person would never flunk. But sometimes we find we can’t match up the right dog with the right person.”

  Right dog, right person. Hmm. What dog could possibly be the right one for me?

  CHAPTER 13

  Elizabeth Alone

  Mom may have told Deb to stay calm but I could tell Mom wasn’t going to. She threw me the cell phone to call Dad while she booted it all the way home. “Nothing to worry about,” she lied as Debra climbed in the van. “Call the doctor,” she called back to me. “Give Liz the number.”

  “What should I say?” I asked as the phone rang.

  Deb just grabbed the cell phone from me. “Yes, yes. It’s Deb Kerr.” Pause. Debra moaned and spoke low. “I feel awful. My head hurts. My back aches.” She moaned again. “No, but my membranes ruptured.” Pause. “We’re almost there.” Debra moaned again and leaned her head against the window. She closed her eyes and slumped.

  “Mom, Mom!” I cried. “Deb’s passed out.”

  Mom glanced over from the steering wheel. I heard her suck in a breath. “It’s going to be fine,” she hissed at me. “We’re here now.” She veered around toward the emergency entrance. “Run in and grab someone,” she told me.

  I ran to the door, pushing my hip against the handle to bump it open. Then I tore over to the desk. “Help me, please! Something’s wrong with my sister and she’s going to have a baby.”

  “Where is she?” the lady behind the desk asked.

  I threw out my arm to point back at the car. “Outside.”

  “Hank, can you help? This girl’s sister is in trouble.”

  “She’s in that van.” I pointed it out as he grabbed a wheelchair and headed toward it. He yanked open the door where Deb sat leaning against Mom, still out and pale as snow. The man lifted Deb, who flopped like a rag doll in the chair.

  Then he rolled her into the hospital, with Mom and I on his tail.

  “Can you fill out these forms?” the lady at the desk called.

  Mom stopped for a second, pivoting as though faking a basketball pass.

  “It’s OK. I can do it,” I offered, and she continued after Deb and the guy named Hank.

  Forms are always a pain. Last name first, first name last, birth date— would it be month, day, year or day, month, year? Address, mailing address if different. What was our postal code? The numbers disappeared from my head.

  Name of doctor, reason for stay. I rushed through the questions as fast as I could but it took forever and I had to cross out a bunch of answers when I put them in the wrong spot.

  I gave the desk lady the clipboard and form back but she was talking on the phone. Then she picked it up and looked it over.

  “Please, could you tell me where they would have gone?” I asked desperately.

  “Fourth floor, maternity.”

  I dashed to the elevator, which I shared with a woman carrying a silver balloon. “Welcome Baby,” the words across the inflated heart read. The elevator lurched to a stop as the number four lit up. Sish. I pushed out frantically, not even knowing which way to go. When Balloon Lady squeezed by, I decided to follow her.

  She asked at the nurse’s station about her daughter, who was having a baby, and the nurse pointed her to the waiting room. “I’ll tell your son-in-law you’re here.”

  I asked about Deb and the nurse made me head for the waiting room too.

  “Mom, is she OK?” I asked when I saw my mother’s face buried in her hands. She looked up and I saw tears streaked down the sides of her face. “Oh, my god, what’s wrong?”

  “She’s having convulsions. They’re going to have to do an emergency Caesarean.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked, but she buried her head back into her hands. “Mom? Mom!” How could it all have turned so bad so quickly?

  When Dad finally arrived, I heard the whole explanation, although I processed only bits.

  “Preeclampsia,” Mom called it. Deb’s blood pressure had shot up too high and she could go into a coma. The baby might make it if they get him out in time; that was, if his lungs were mature.

  “What about Deb?” I asked. “She’ll be OK for sure, won’t she?”

  Mom turned and looked at me but she didn’t say a word.

  I ran out of the room. I can’t lose my sister, I thought. I don’t want to lose the baby, either, but Deb—it couldn’t be possible. It wouldn’t happen, and yet I could see the way she had slumped against the van window. She had looked…dead already. I paced back and forth in the halls. The lady with the balloon was going to see her new grandson now. Oh, sure, she got a healthy daughter and baby. How fair was that?

  I kept pacing. I couldn’t stop. Then I heard a voice.

  “Little sister?”

  “Rolph!” I snarled. Then I turned, rushed at him and started punching his chest. He didn’t stop me for a minute, but then grabbed both my fists, lifted them and dropped them over his shoulders as he hugged me. He was crying too.

  “I’ve been in town for two days and when your father called me, I couldn’t believe it. It’s so early.”

  “Elizabeth!” I heard my mother’s voice. “The baby’s out. Come see him.”

  Rolph and I rushed to Mom and we followed a nurse into a room full of glass incubators. There I met my nephew, too impossibly tiny, waving angry fists around. On his head, he wore a tiny blue woolen tuque. His eyes were covered in a blindfold.

  “He’s not…” I couldn’t finish.

  “No, they have to put him under special lights, so they cover his eyes to protect them.”

  I sighed. “Debra?” I asked Mom.

  “We’ll know soon.”

  I felt so awful that night—like everything good had been sucked out of the world. My chest and stomach ached and my eyes burned. If Beauty had been here I would have walked her, and some of my tightness would have unwound. But of course she wasn’t. So I slipped downstairs in my pajamas and sat by her crate for a while. How was she doing in the kennel? Had to be better than I was. I sighed.

  Then I got my pillow and blanket and bunked half in and half out of Beauty’s crate. With my head inside, I could smell dog and feel dog and almost see dog. It made me calmer. There I could sleep.

  The next morning I woke up aching a little less. You can only feel so awful for so long. Mom and Dad were already getting ready to go to the hospital. When the phone rang, Mom jumped to answer it. “It’s for you.”

  Scott, I thought. He does care.

&nb
sp; “Hi, Liz. Are you OK?” Alicia asked. “I mean, I know how rough it must be for you to give up Beauty.”

  I sighed, and then filled her in on just how much worse things had gotten since giving up my dog.

  “Wow.” She sucked in a long breath and stayed quiet for a moment. Then she spoke again. “You know Debra can’t die, don’t you?” Another quiet moment. I just couldn’t answer. Alicia continued quickly. “Sure, she may be really sick now, but she’s the in best hospital around. Honest, Liz, I wouldn’t just say it. My cousin’s a nurse there.”

  “But you had to see her. She looked so bad. And Teal. He’s tiny, with tubes stuck all over him. He wears this little blindfold, and he waves his arms like he’s angry at the world already.”

  “Poor little guy. But you know what? I have a good feeling about all this. They’ll come home soon.”

  Home. “I didn’t tell you—Rolph came to the hospital.”

  “Oh.” She paused for a moment. “Well, most people who have babies live with their partners. You can’t stop that. Is he moving back near here or staying in L.A.?”

  “I don’t know.” It was too depressing to think about, but I realized there was a bargain I should be making in my mind, in order to keep Debra and Teal alive. A bargain I wasn’t ready to make. “I gotta go now. We’re leaving for the hospital.”

  “OK. Call me when things turn around.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Bye.” I slipped the receiver back into the cradle. Then quickly, I snatched it up again and keyed in Scott’s number. He’d told me to call, after all.

  His dad picked up. “Gwen, hi. He left for your place twenty minutes ago. Should be there soon.”

  He thought I was Gwen. I didn’t feel like correcting him. “Um, um, OK. Thanks.” I hung up. You know I’ll always be here for you. That’s what Scott had told me. I thought about Beauty then—her golden eyes, the way they looked straight into mine; her big, heavy paws. She would have always been there for me if I hadn’t given her back to Canine Vision.

  “Let’s go,” Dad called. “You coming, Liz?”

  I nodded and followed him out to the van.

  Ordinary things continue to happen in the world, even as awful things happen in your own family. As we drove to the hospital, I saw cars turning into the mall parking lot. A bus stopped and some kids from my school got off. Farther on, I saw a lady pushing a baby in the carriage—healthy baby, healthy mom. An ordinary thing. An ordinary thing everyone expects.

  Then we drove behind an ambulance, the light flashing, the siren wailing. Not a normal thing. We weren’t the only family in the world something bad was happening to. We turned in after the ambulance into the visitors’ parking lot and headed into the hospital up to intensive care. Mom and Dad went in to see Debra first, and I stood waiting in the hall. I could hear machines sishing and beeping. Someone talked quietly about something serious; someone else answered over and over, “Yes, yes, I understand.” How could a person understand anything in this place?

  I could smell medicine, strong as cleaning detergent. I started to feel bleak, like a gray, rainy day. Then Rolph showed up at my side, a blue teddy bear tucked under his arm and a tray of coffee cups in his hands. I felt angry, like I wanted to hit him all over again.

  “Here, I brought you some hot chocolate.” Rolph handed me a cup. “Have a cookie to go with it.”

  My mouth filled with sweetness even though my heart felt like a pointy rock. Rolph’s eyes looked bloodshot and glazed. Purple shadowed them. His tone of voice sounded pleading.

  I should make the bargain. He’s trying so hard. Everyone screws up sometimes, everyone. He drank; he lost Deb and the baby. Now everyone will lose Deb and the baby if I don’t do it.

  “She’s awake and asking for you.“ Mom poked her head out of the ICU.

  Rolph stepped forward hopefully.

  “No, for Elizabeth.”

  I rushed in. My sister smiled at me and I started to cry.

  “I’m OK,” she whispered to me. “Tell me the truth. How is he?”

  I thought for a moment. “Rolph?”

  “No, Teal. They tell me he’s fine but I don’t trust them. I want to hear it from you.”

  “He’s so little, Deb, it’s scary. And he’s wearing a blindfold. But all that’s supposed to be all right.”

  “Is he breathing on his own?”

  I shook my head and Deb turned away. “I was so sure I ate right and exercised well.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. “You did.”

  “I must have done something wrong,” Deb said.

  “No.” I swallowed, feeling pretty sure about that.

  “Things just happen sometimes.” I knew now that Deb felt as bleak as I did, but I had to make her feel better. “It doesn’t matter anyway. If you get strong again and Teal grows big, we’ll all forget this…”

  “If Teal grows big…” Deb smiled at me. “Go see him, Elizabeth. Tell him he has to grow big for his mom.”

  I smiled back at her. The sheet of gray lifted and the edges sticking out of my heart rounded and smoothed. I could believe it all for Deb, and I would do as she asked. “I’ll go see him right now.”

  “Liz?”

  “Yeah, Deb.”

  “Send in Rolph.”

  “Sure.”

  I stepped out of the room and told Rolph to go on in. He looked relieved as he walked through the doorway. Dad and Mom came with me as I headed toward the intensive care nursery. I stepped up to the little glass box where Teal lived. Then I made the bargain, blinking back tears. Debra can go back to Rolph, so long as she and Teal live.

  Out loud I said, “Listen, baby Teal. This is very important. You have to keep growing and gaining weight and getting big. Your mom needs you. And I need you both.”

  CHAPTER 14

  Kyle

  Summer

  If anyone had told me that I’d be going to school to get a dog—on my summer vacation, no less—I would have thought they were crazy. Still, who could have predicted that I would get diabetes or go blind? And that I would have to conquer my fear of the dark and—hopefully—dogs, to survive? Dogs. Slobbering, growling, snapping…ugh, would I ever be able to do it?

  The night before I had to report in at Canine Vision, I tossed around in my bed, pressing the voice button on my alarm clock, listening to time passing and wondering just how I could back out. I felt hot and nauseous by the time the electronic rooster crowed. And I felt even worse later, as I followed along on the building tour. Which may have accounted for my reaction to Angela, the girl walking beside me: pure irritation. January had introduced us all and Angela was a law student at Queen’s, Dad’s old school. When January showed us the kennels, Angela acted far too eager. “When can we work with the dogs?”

  “Tomorrow,” January answered.

  “We get our dog tomorrow,” Angela repeated, all breathy with excitement, and something else. Joy?

  I felt jealous. I wanted to be excited and happy instead of sick and tired and afraid.

  “No, you’ll just work with different animals, heeling them,” January answered. “We want to see how you work with them. Come this way, please.”

  “Careful of that corner,” Angela warned me.

  I felt the impact of it in my side just as she said it. “Hey, aren’t you supposed to be blind?”

  “I am legally blind. I see light and shadows and in the morning, the outlines of shapes. As the day wears on, my sight gets worse.”

  Fine for her—at least she could see a little, and she wasn’t afraid of dogs. Bet she didn’t need to check her blood sugar four times a day, either.

  Every wrong turn I made, every time I stumbled, Angela pointed it out and commented on it. “The cafeteria’s over here,” she told me at suppertime, when I wanted to turn the other way. “I can get us more sugar if you need some for your coffee.” How did she even know that’s what I was pawing the middle of the table for?

  And she practically gurgled about getting a dog. “I love
Labs. They’re the friendliest animals. Here’s the sugar,” she said, handing me a jar.

  “I’m diabetic. I need sweetener,” I told her sharply.

  “I’ll say. Here.” She took the jar back and gave me a couple of small paper sachets. I ripped open the tops and dumped them into my coffee, stirring clankety-clank for a long time.

  “Maybe you should get the cook to put your coffee in a blender,” she suggested.

  I sipped at my cup without answering, and then sputtered and choked. “What the heck!” I spat out the coffee. It tasted awful. The sweetener must have gone bad or…

  Angela laughed. “Whoops! Must have given you the salt instead.”

  Still coughing, I wanted to kill her. And then suddenly, I couldn’t help chuckling. Salt in my coffee became the funniest thing that had happened to me in a long time, and I laughed so long I had to fight tears. And while I was laughing, I stopped hating Angela.

  Later, back in my room, exhausted, I lay back on my bed and heard the most incredibly beautiful voice singing. The words called to me sadly, sweetly. I tried to resist but ended up grabbing my guitar and following the melody with my chords. It was an Irish lullaby and it could have lured sailors to their grave and, certainly, me down the halls. I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to find out who the voice belonged to. I grabbed my cane, followed the sound a few doors down and knocked.

  “Hi, Kyle.” It was Angela. How could someone so irritating sing like such an angel? “Just so we’re clear from the start, I’m engaged.”

  “Oh, bad luck for me,” I said sarcastically. Then I invited her to the lounge, brought my guitar out and played her some of the songs I’d written. She picked up the harmony on Maddie’s song.

  “Too bad about your girlfriend,” she said when we finished. “I broke off with my first fiancé. Well, actually, I just beat him to the punch.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Maddie and I are solid. You’ll meet her on our last Sunday.”

  “Really? That song sounded so…oh, well. When I went blind, I had to find a whole new set of friends. And my old boyfriend couldn’t see me anymore, only what I had lost.”