“Mmm. Too bad for you.” Maddie and I were different too, now. Didn’t every relationship go through changes? Still, what Angela said needled me.
And she needled me even more the next day. When we walked outside, I felt really nervous. Fast moving cars tore around out there, backing up, pulling away without warning. And on top of that, I knew that my gait was crooked and that I confused my left with my right.
“Hey, that’s the third time you’ve bumped into me. Sidewalk hog,” Angela said to me. Then she nagged at January. “Why can’t we work with a dog right away?”
“We want to observe the way you walk. Some of the animals don’t work well with people who veer to one side or step unevenly,” January explained.
Thanks to Angela, everyone now knew I veered. Maybe no dog could match my gait.
“I just really want a black Lab,” she whined. By now everyone in the school had to know that, too.
“Don’t be such a breedist,” I told her.
“Oh, my gosh, Kyle made a joke. Everyone? Did you hear that?”
Next day, Angela made fun of me when we were working on collars and harnesses and I put the collar on wrong. How could I get it on straight, really, when I expected teeth to sink into my hands at any moment?
“You’re gonna strangle your dog.” Then, “You sure you wanna give him one of your animals?” she asked a trainer.
I knew she was teasing. The trainer just laughed too. Angela couldn’t know she was poking hot fire into a kindling-wood self-esteem. Still, I felt my face burning and wished she’d just go away.
Happily, I couldn’t put the harness on wrong, we just had to hold it out and the dog put its head through it. The trainer explained that this was how they gauged the dog’s willingness. If the animal didn’t eagerly go for the harness, it would have disqualified itself from the program. Later on, we might realize our dogs were sick or ready to be retired if they avoided it. On healthy, average days, the dog would step in happily. Good thing, too, or I might have ended up walking the dog backwards.
Next day, Angela razzed me about whispering my commands: “Sit! Heel! Lie down! Stay!” She laughed herself silly when the dogs I tried didn’t listen. And then suddenly I was too annoyed at her to be afraid of the dogs. “Stay,” I barked at one dog. The dog licked my hand for a second and I cringed, but when I walked away, it stayed. Involuntarily, I smelled my fingers. No rotten-meat smell. Good.
I came back to the dog and patted it. The animal—a chocolate Lab, the trainer told me—didn’t smell too bad at all. It seemed familiar, too, somehow. The dog nudged me.
“Go ahead, pat Beauty some more,” the trainer said.
“What did you say her name was? Beauty?” Shaking, I scratched the top of the dog’s head. It couldn’t be her dog. They probably named lots of them the same. Didn’t I hear that they assigned each litter one letter of the alphabet? Buster, Beamer, Baxter, Beauty—they had to use the same names over and over.
“Beauty? What kind of name is that for a dog? Mind you, she is as big as a horse, don’t you think?” Angela asked, always showing off the little vision she had left.
I could feel the dog’s head leaning into the scratch. I forced myself not to pull away. If I could get used to living in darkness without a night-light, couldn’t I force myself to live with a dog?
“Hey, Beauty seems to like you,” the trainer said.
My hand stopped shaking as I stroked the dog’s back. It didn’t seem all that big, and it acted so docile. And if it was her dog it had already saved my life once, to hear the girl from the park tell it. Maybe I could learn to trust this dog.
What had the trainer told me? If they couldn’t match us up with an animal, or if there was some other personality problem, we’d be sent home early on. That meant that every day I survived put me one day closer to success.
Day four took us down obstacle courses. I tried out Chopin, Fenway, Digby, King and Beauty again. No more shaking, I told myself. This has to work. But even with my talking watch to help keep my left and rights straight, I made lots of mistakes. And I had to force myself not to curse. I didn’t want them to send me home because of a personality problem, after all.
On Thursday we were supposed to be assigned our dogs. We all had to return to our rooms and wait. I wanted the dog that acted so gentle—the one that listened to me and didn’t smell. But who was I kidding? I would have been happy with any animal. Just so long as the trainer didn’t come to tell me to pack my things and go home.
The knock at the door came, and I forced myself to slowly walk over and open it.
“Kyle, this is your guide dog. Beauty, this is Kyle, your new owner.”
“Yeah!” I couldn’t help cheering. I bent down to the dog and she licked my face all over. I pulled away just a little, but continued patting her and then slung one arm around her.
“I take it you like our decision.”
“Oh, yeah. Geez, thanks. I love this dog.” I listened to myself as I stroked Beauty. I did sound sincere. Well, I didn’t hate her, anyway.
“I’ll leave you two to get acquainted.” The door shut again and I just sat there, my arm still draped over Beauty. “Look, I’m sorry. I have no idea what to do with you, what dogs like, anything. I don’t know my left from my right. I veer when I walk…”
My heart stopped when I felt a heavy paw land on one of my shoulders. It was the weirdest thing. Like the dog was trying to reassure me and tell me, “Hey, that’s OK, don’t worry about it.”
The paw felt like an anchor and it weighed me down, but it felt OK, not scary at all. I felt rooted, and in that instant, I felt loved. Who would have imagined an animal could do that for me?
Elizabeth
July
It took a whole month for Teal to come home, and five months later—despite my bargain about them going to live with Rolph if they survived—Teal and Debra were still at home with us. Rolph came around a lot and that made me nervous, but he always behaved like the perfect gentleman, considerate and generous.
So it didn’t surprise me that on the day Debra got her new picture book, Camel on a Surfboard, in the mail and Teal blew his first raspberry, Rolph decided to celebrate by buying Teal a jogging stroller. Also in the mail with Deb’s advance copies came the invitation to Beauty’s graduation.
When Deb felt too wrecked from another sleepless night to even try the stroller out, I volunteered. I called Scott, too. With Gwen away at camp, I knew he had the time; and I wanted to sort out my feelings about Beauty.
I’d immediately told Mom I wouldn’t go to guide-dog grad—what was the point? We weren’t going to foster any more puppies; not with Teal around.
“Well, you do all the work, Elizabeth,” Mom said. “So that’s entirely up to you. As far as a puppy and Teal are concerned, it would be good for both to get used to each other. I mean, blind people do have babies.”
I shrugged my shoulders and grabbed my Rollerblades from the cupboard. Well, I wasn’t going to jog with that stroller, and I’d seen other people blade with their baby buggies. Scott met me at the park with his skates. “I can tell Mom thinks I should go,” I explained to him as I strapped mine on.
“Of course. You get to see Beauty doing the job you raised her for. You meet her new owner. Gee, I wanna go. When is it?”
I told him the date and time as we skated around the park, Teal gurgling and perfecting his raspberry technique. But I also said I still wasn’t sure. If I went, I knew I’d be suckered into training another puppy for Canine Vision.
Then we headed up the hill. Hard work on the shins, as I dug in the sides of the wheels to climb.
Just like the last time, I considered taking my skates off but found I couldn’t. “Watch Teal a moment. I’m going down,” I said to Scott. Then I pushed myself off. I didn’t hunker down, not even in the beginning. I held out my arms in a V toward the sky. The wind pulled at my hair and I yelled all the way down. I started to straighten my knees a little. When I saw the grate, I im
agined throwing myself on the ground again but then thought, Nah, I’ll take the grate head on. I bent my knees. Down, down…faster and faster…
Then I straightened, jumped up and over, and landed. Perfect balance. I straightened totally till I stood tall: queen of the universe, master of destiny. I raised my arms and hands. “Woo-hoo!” I hollered. I continued rolling on gravity alone.
Then, for no real good reason, I pitched forward and fell. Ow!
“You all right?” Scott asked.
“Peachy,” I answered, dusting off my knees. Suddenly, memories from the last wipeout with Beauty came back to me—how she’d galloped after me, looked for help from that stranger and then allowed me to climb up, using her back as a crutch; lapping at my scrapes even as I hollered at her. She was going to make such a good guide dog, and I missed her so badly.
I took a deep breath, blinking back tears. Then I headed back up the hill to take over Teal so Scott could try. “OK, so you’re right. Let’s go to Beauty’s grad,” I told him at the top.
We took turns down the hill and I never wiped out again. As we headed home, we chatted about life in general, just like old times. “So Rolph bought the stroller— neat, huh? Does he live with you guys now?”
“No,” I answered carefully as I pushed the stroller forward. I didn’t want to explain about how Debra needed to keep space between them in case Alcoholics Anonymous didn’t work out. “Rolph just wants to spend time with Teal.”
“So he’s not working in L.A. anymore?” Scott asked, as though that were the most incredible thing in the world.
“Some things are more important, I guess.” I walked more quickly because Teal was starting to fuss. “Wouldn’t you give up a job to stay close to your family?”
“My family—meaning you? When we’re thirty? I hope we’ll both travel around the world. Together, of course. Not stick around here."
Teal’s gurgling turned into nattering and Scott looked edgy. “Is he going to scream all the way home?”
I shook my head and sped up even more, which worked. Teal’s head began to sag and his entire upper body leaned to the side of the stroller. Within a couple of minutes he was asleep like a dead weight. I tucked his unconscious body back straight in the stroller and we continued walking and talking about all kinds of other stuff. I told Scott about my mom’s poetry suite winning an honorable mention in the CBC contest. “She’s going to read it on the radio and—you’re gonna love this, she’s been shopping for the perfect outfit.”
“Your mom, worried about what to wear on radio?” We both chuckled.
“She’s in such a good mood. She let Dad buy a new notebook computer.”
“He must be in heaven.”
“Nah, he works on the train now, instead of napping. Dad’s always doing staff evaluations. Regal Trust had another re-org and gave him even more people."
“Still, the notebook should have done the trick.” Scott shrugged. “Whenever my dad hates his job, he buys himself a toy. You should see the cool remote-control airplane he has. It looks so real when it’s up in the air.”
“Your mom’s OK with that?’
“Yeah. When she’s unhappy it’s kitchen gadgets. Have you ever tried an apple-peeling machine? The whole peel comes off in one piece.”
Remote-control airplanes, one-piece apple peelers and all kinds of other stupid things, that’s what we talked about on the trip home. Apart from Scott being a little impatient with Teal, I knew he was the boy I wanted to be with right now, not when I turned thirty.
As we headed down our block, we saw Dad walking toward the house from the other side—his steps quick and long, as though he were rushing for yet another commuter train.
Then he saw us and slowed down, a big grin creeping across his face.
“He doesn’t seem that unhappy to me,” Scott said as we both waved.
And Scott was right. Dad’s whole face brightened like a birthday cake whenever he looked down at Teal. “Well, work’s not everything, as I said. He seems to get a big kick out of the baby.”
“Go figure,” Scott said, shaking his head. Then he made a little finger gun that he pointed and shot at me. “See you Thursday. My house, six-thirty, right?”
“Right,” I answered, smiling. It felt really good to know we were going to Beauty’s graduation together. Who else realized how important or how difficult this would be? Only Scott. It was like Rollerblading down that hill and jumping over the grate. I felt triumphant, felt like holding my arms open in a giant V. Scott understood me. Scott was going to be there for me!
CHAPTER 15
Kyle and Beauty
Well, Angela didn’t get the dog of her dreams. Instead of a black Lab, she received a golden retriever, Butterscotch. And from that Thursday on, golden retrievers became the absolute best dogs to have, ever, they were so beautiful.
“Who cares what they look like anyway when you can’t see, right, Beauty?” I patted my dog, trying to picture the glossiness of her fur rather than the sharpness of her fangs. We sat in the recreation room together with Angela and Butterscotch—me, as usual, strumming my guitar; Angela singing. The others joined in and we started singing an old Elvis tune, “Hound Dog,” in honor of our training partners. Everyone really went crazy and when we finished, even the trainers whooped and applauded.
“That was great, Beauty,” January said—which was odd, since the dog wasn’t howling along or anything. “Kyle, do you know where your dog is?”
Panicking, I felt around on the floor near me to realize Beauty had gone.
“I paired you with her because I thought you could be strict with her. You should keep the leash tucked under your feet at all times,” January said. “Beauty has some strange habits. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she just performed an Elvis imitation.”
When January handed me back the leash, I forced sternness into my voice. “Beauty, lie down.” But relief washed over me when I felt Beauty’s back against my legs, and I patted her head ever so gently. “You can’t leave me, girl.” Even if someone else could love you better.
Next morning we were supposed to head to downtown Toronto with our dogs and Angela seemed just as nervous as me. I’m OK. I’m not scared, I kept telling myself, just as I had when my bandages had come off my eyes. The results weren’t too good that time, either, I reminded myself when we climbed onto our bus and Beauty acted restless.
“Don’t get soft on me,” January hissed. “Give her a correction!”
I should have done that on my own. I shouldn’t have had to be told. Did I think Beauty might still turn on me? Would this be a strike against me? Or was it possible that Beauty herself could flunk these tests? I pulled down hard on the leash so she would lie down and stay put. Then, after a few minutes, I reached down and stroked her. She was up. I tugged the leash again. None of the other dogs were having trouble; that I knew.
Angela was telling Butterscotch how perfect she was, as usual. Really, that dog was a saint.
I started singing under my breath to keep my hands from shaking. “‘Our bus driver’s gonna buy us all a beer…’” I patted Beauty again. She sank down now. I felt her back again when I got to the third chorus, and she was still down and calm.
A couple of times in Toronto, Beauty seemed to startle at sudden noises—or was that in reaction to me? Could she feel my fear? I hated all the cars and noise. They seemed to be coming from every direction. “Hop up, Beauty,” I said at the curb of a noisy intersection. Beauty stepped right to the edge of the sidewalk now. I listened for a break in traffic but none ever came. Luckily, the light actually chirped a signal that it was safe to walk.
Phew. No huge, scary decision for me. “Forward, Beauty,” I told her. Back up on the sidewalk, we kept walking and then suddenly Beauty stopped.
“Forward, girl,” I said, irritated. This was the middle of the block. I knew Angela and Saint Butterscotch were tailgating us, ready to make us look stupid. “Did you hear me? I said Forward.” The bus was one t
hing; starting at all those noises was another. Now here, for no reason, this stupid dog wasn’t going to listen to me. She was going to ruin everything for the both of us. Didn’t she understand how important it was that she obeyed? I pulled hard at her leash.
“Kyle, stop!” January yelled to me. “There’s a car backing up in front of you, just to your left.”
As I stood there shaking, I could feel the hot exhaust blow across my legs. My knees felt all wobbly and I shivered all over.
“Oh geez, she saved me.”
“It’s what she’s trained to do. You just have to pay attention to her when she stops,” January told me.
“Good girl, Beauty. Good girl,” I repeated as I patted her. I wanted to weep with joy and relief, to throw myself down in gratitude to this dog.
The last Sunday, Maddie came to visit and I told her all that had happened.
“Why do they make you walk around in such a dangerous area? I mean, Toronto’s such a busy city.”
“But that’s the point. It’s to prove you can go anywhere you want—do everything.”
“Hmmph. A little unrealistic, don’t you think?”
At that point I thought of Angela and what she’d said about her ex. It was true. They only see what you’ve lost, not what you can do. I shook my head. I reached to her and kissed her on the cheek.
“What’s that for?” she asked.
“Maddie, both you and I know that it’s over.”
“What, Kyle? What are you saying?”
“Us—I mean, going out together. You still can’t handle all this.” I waved my hand toward my eyes. “I forced you into it.”
Unhappily, she didn’t say one word, couldn’t think of any way to even try to deny it.
I reached for her and stroked her cheek, which felt wet. “Aw, Maddie, don’t be sad. You’ve been such a good friend to me. I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“I can’t believe you replaced me with a dog.” She half laughed, half choked. “OK, I’m going to walk away now and not cry and make a big scene.”
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