by John Hunt
Olivia said, “I called earlier? About Brutus?”
She half-expected him to say, sorry, he had been adopted in the incredibly long hour it took them to get there. Ever since being in the basement, it took an effort of will to nurse hope. Such a fragile thing.
“You the one who giggled on the phone? I thought you’d be younger,” he said with a wink. He walked out from behind the counter, “Would you like to meet him?”
“Yes, please.”
Olivia and Harry followed Mark through double doors past rows of cat cages and through another set of doors with larger cages for the dogs. The room smelled musty with fur and the stronger scent of urine and feces.
Olivia spotted Brutus with his back against the bars of the cage. His eyes darted from Mark to Harry and then settled on Olivia. The tip of his tail wagged a smidgen. Other than Brutus, two other dogs occupied cages in the room. A small Yorkshire terrier yapped happily and spun circles in its enclosure. Another dog, older, cracked an eye, saw nothing of interest, and went back to sleep. Her attention focused on Brutus and she knelt before the cage. The tail moved tentatively.
Harry said, “Does he bite?”
“Brutus? No. Not him. Mopes around mostly. His previous owners moved out of their house and left him behind. A real shock for the people moving in. No. If you ask me, he’s heartbroken. Some people’d say that’s nonsense, a dog being heartbroken. I know otherwise though, working in here.”
Olivia held the back of her hand to the cage, an offering.
Harry said, “Maybe you shouldn’t do that.”
“Relax dad. We’re friends. Even Brutus here knows it. Don’t you boy?”
Brutus’ tail twitched in agreement. He edged his snout closer, nostrils flaring. His pink tongue darted out and licked her hand.
Mark said, “I would say he does.”
Without taking her eyes from Brutus, Olivia said, “I’d like to take him home.”
. . .
Olivia didn’t know what she expected. Well, that’s not entirely accurate. She expected to show up, pay some fees and take the dog home because she wanted it to work like that. It didn’t. Not at this shelter. Mark explained the process to her. She nodded at him, brow furrowed and biting her lip. They wanted to make sure the dog, when placed, would stay there and to better ensure that end, she had to apply to be the adoptive parent of Brutus. Too many times, people adopted a dog with good intentions. They wanted to keep the dog, they wanted to love it and they wanted it to love them in return. Turns out, having a dog is a lot of work. A lot more work than films and quaint TV commercials portray. Dogs needed to go for walks regularly. The bigger the dog, the more regular the walks. They had to be fed, occasionally washed and given a lot of time and attention most people don’t have. And then the crap! In the summer, this didn’t present too much of a problem other than the general grossness of crap roasting in the sun. In the winter though, the snow tended to cover it up before you could get to it. Come spring, when the snow melted, the backyard would look like a minefield of brown soggy logs. All in all, dogs were a huge responsibility to the surprise of a great many people.
Mark said the shelter instituted guidelines for the application process. The adoptee would be interviewed and a form filled out. If satisfactory, an employee would attend Olivia’s house for a home visit to see if the property were conducive to a dog. If all worked out well, then the dog would be placed into the care of the applicant. The whole process seemed overwhelming and at first, quite ridiculous. How did they expect to place dogs? Intimidating to say the least and it induced unexpected anxiety in Olivia. She had thought it would be simpler. After Mark explained that by using this process they drastically reduced the return rate of the dogs, she understood it and accepted it. Even so, it still felt a daunting and scary venture. What if they decided she were unsuitable? Worse. What if she got through to the home visit and after seeing the place they denied her Brutus? The possibility of rejection scared and angered her in equal proportions.
“Please. Don’t look so scared. It’s not as bad as you think.” Mark said with a smile. “Let’s go have a seat. I’ll get my clipboard out and we’ll get the interview done.”
They were back at the front and Mark sank into his chair, lifted his magazine, opened a drawer or two and finding the clipboard and form, placed it before her. He said, “Fill this out please.”
The form took little time to fill. General personal information like her name and age. She glanced at Harry when she got to the address line. She forgot the house number. New house or no new house, it was not something she would forget. It was an indication of her nervousness and her fear they wouldn’t let her have Brutus. She handed the completed form to Mark. He checked it over, nodded and stuck another sheet of paper in the clipboard.
With the pen all but disappearing in his hand, he said, “So. Why do you want a dog?”
She surprised herself by saying, “I want a friend.”
When it came out of her mouth and she heard the truth of it, she grinned.
Mark smiled warmly, winked, and said, “Good answer.”
. . .
The interview went well. Mark told her to be prepared for a home visit. He didn’t expect any problems considering they had a fenced backyard. Harry chided her for her nervousness. She asked to see Brutus before she left and Mark appeared pleased by the request.
She knelt before the cage and told him to expect to come home with her soon. He canted his head and his tail wagged at her voice. She liked to believe he understood her. Who knows? Maybe he did.
The home visit took place two days later. The stress made Olivia irritable. She followed Harry around and wiped the table as soon as his dishes left it glaring at him for daring to leave such a mess. She brushed imaginary crumbs off his chair once he vacated it accompanied by a harried sigh. She wanted Brutus. Wanted him so much it made her wring her hands and wander the house looking for something to clean. She wanted the home visit to go perfectly. Late at night, while passing cars lit up her ceiling with flashes of light, she wondered if Brutus really was for protection. Maybe what she said to Mark made more sense. She wanted a friend. One to love her despite her scars, the ones on the surface and the deeper ones beneath. She believed Dale to be her friend but he wasn’t around all the time and what she wanted was the kind of love only a dog could provide and the security attached to that love.
The detective, Davis, proved to be an interesting and intelligent person. He had been kind to her and as far as she could tell, very forthright with the case. She liked the quiet confidence and his eyes that seemed to read everything. She knew the attraction couldn’t be reciprocated. Damaged goods, mangled, who would want to be with her? She convinced herself Davis was being nice to her because it was his job. It would look very good on him if he were to catch the Jackal. There could be no other reason for his kind words and charming smile. It was his job to care. He wouldn’t like her, not in that way. She was damaged. Physically and emotionally.
There would be no expectations from Brutus. He would want food, water, exercise and her love. She had plenty to give and wanted to share it.
The very idea a home visit could affect the adoption filled her with dread. She worried her nails until she tasted blood. One minute she would think everything will work out, she was due for something good by now wasn’t she? A person couldn’t go through their whole life with shit luck could they? Then she would think, why not? Plenty of people get fucked by life everyday. Why not her? A karmic arrow pointing right at her letting her know fate wasn’t done with her yet, oh no, not by a long shot. A few more dollops of misery have yet to be doled out.
When Mark called to make sure she would be home for the visit she spoke in a light, care-free tone while her g
uts twisted inside. Mark ended up being the home visitor, showing up at the front door with a clipboard and pen. Olivia couldn’t picture him without them. He grinned at her surprise and she invited him in. Olivia had cleared away most of the boxes and put them in the garage. She hoped he wouldn’t check in there. He might be crushed by an avalanche of boxes if he opened the door.
She relaxed a lot when Mark said, “This part is just a formality. Most people who thought they wanted a dog are usually scared when the process is explained to them. Too much work you see. The people who go through with it all are those ones we like to release a dog to. You can tell they want the dog, otherwise, why go through all this stress?”
“It is very stressful.”
“Only because you care. In my book, that makes you a great applicant. Okay. Show me the rest of this place so I can sign off on Brutus.”
And that was that. She got the okay to adopt Brutus. They could pick him up anytime. She called her dad and told him to expect to go on a road trip when he got home from work. Olivia rested on the couch, positioned so she could see Harry pull in the driveway. Once he got home, they were going to get Brutus. Time never moved so slow. She would be convinced a half hour had passed and would glance at her watch to see five minutes elapsed since her last check. The TV babbled in the background, the iPad sat forgotten on her lap and a cup of tea huffed steam while being ignored on the table. She wanted to get going. Her body hummed with the urge to go. Not until she had Brutus in the car would it be real to her. When headlights swept the living room, she stood and hustled out the door with her coat in her arms and her boots not quite on. She hopped in the car to see a surprised Harry watching her.
“No time for dinner?”
“Nope. No time.”
“Did you lock the door and set the alarm?”
“Fuck!” She said in exasperation and shock. Those are things she had never forgotten to do before. She checked them repeatedly. It was like if she didn’t move fast enough someone would come in and scoop Brutus from her. Ridiculous. Yet the power of this thought shoved all other considerations rudely aside. She yanked on the handle and Harry stopped her with, “I’ll get it.”
Harry fast-walked to the front door, disappeared inside and emerged a short time later. He locked the door, gave her a thumbs up and trotted to the car.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
“Can we get something at a drive-thru on the way?”
“I suppose so. If you must.”
“C’mon honey. What’s the rush? It’s not like the dog will be gone when we get there.”
She exhaled heavily, “I know.”
. . .
Mark greeted them with a smile and a handshake. He handed Olivia the paperwork for the shots and licensing and recommended a good vet near them. Olivia, flushed and excited, handed the papers directly to Harry. She kept forgetting his fear of dogs and wondered how he was holding up. He hadn’t wiped at his lip. A good sign. He may have been, in consideration of her, trying to conceal his terror. Feeling great affection for him, she put a hand on his arm and said, “Thanks for this, dad.”
“No problem.”
Olivia turned to Mark and said, “Okay. I’m ready. I mean, we’re ready.”
“Perfect. Do you have your collar and leash?”
Olivia said, “Fuck.” Her face burned a bright red.
She apologized to Mark and her dad for swearing and felt like the world’s biggest idiot for forgetting to get a leash and collar. She hadn’t even bought a dog bed, bowls or food. All the essentials for dog ownership slipped her mind. And Mark had reminded her to bring them at the home visit. She rushed her poor dad into the car, debated on even letting him stop for food when they should have stopped and did some shopping for the dog items.
Mark waved off the swearing and gave her a slip leash until she could get a collar and leash for Brutus. All of her self-recriminations and doubts faded when Mark walked out of the back room with Brutus on a leash. Brutus gazed at her with amber eyes, furtive but she did notice the swish of his tail upon seeing her and thought it a good sign.
Mark handed her the leash and she clasped it. Her heart thrummed. Her eyes burned and she swallowed. When she found her voice she said, “Thanks. For everything.”
“No need. I’m sure Brutus here has found himself a great family. I’m glad for him. And for you.”
She offered the back of her hand to Brutus. Like last time, he sniffed and licked it. She scratched the top of his head, between the ears. He closed his eyes and his tail flicked with enthusiasm.
“Yup. I’m sure you two will get along fine. Now your dad there? He might take some time getting used to Brutus.”
Olivia turned to see Harry pale with a line of sweat on his brow.
Harry laughed, nervous and said, “I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
Mark recommended a good store on the way home for dog supplies. He provided a list and Harry took it and stuffed it in his pocket.
Olivia said, “Ready Brutus?”
Brutus’ tongue darted out, licking her pants.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
They walked to the car and Harry chuckled. A high tittering sound, lined with anxiety. He said, “I forgot he’d be riding in the car with me. Stupid thing to forget. I mean, how would we get him home otherwise?”
“Like forgetting a leash and collar? Not so stupid dad. I’ll sit in the back with him. Just don’t look in the rearview mirror too much. With luck, you may even be able to forget he’s there.”
She opened the door and Brutus climbed in with his tail between his legs. She got in beside him, put on her seatbelt and Harry drove them home with their new furry family member.
-27-
The Jackal always liked the preparation prior to an abduction or murder. The planning built anticipation. It juiced his veins and electrified his heart. It allowed him to visualize how he would carry out the plan, and what he would do to the unfortunate once he had her. It never failed to give rise to a painful erection. Despite his planning, he had been lucky with Jen. If she had pushed the stupid alarm button any sooner, he would be in jail right now, rotting in a cage. He had no idea she was wearing the alarm. He should have known. He had never seen Olivia wearing it so, in retrospect, he couldn’t have foreseen that. Relying on luck was a terrible way to do business. Luck had a disturbing tendency of running out. More research, more planning. One had to be careful about the process. It wouldn’t do to be seen hanging around a certain place around a certain person. People remember the strangest things and he shouldn’t underestimate that.
Jen’s murder had sated him for some time. He wished he could have taken her with him to enjoy at his leisure. To draw out her terror and drink it in. A satisfying tonic. Would Jen have given him the satisfaction he sought? Curious. She had been dissociating herself for quite some time. In her pink cell, he sensed in her eyes a drawing away, her mind drifting some place where the horrors couldn’t reach her. Even at the moment of her death when her eyes grew wide as dinner plates and pulsing with fear, it had been tempered by relief. She wanted it to end and she enticed him to do it. He didn’t like that. She had manipulated him. Control belonged to the Jackal and not the victim.
He shrugged it away. It was something to learn from and move on. He had killed her and left an unmistakable message for Olivia. He intended to do the same with Lucy. He had a way to negate the alarm around the neck. He would have to test it first. Make sure it worked. Then he would take her, use her and dump her where she would be found, bearing the same disfiguring scars as Olivia. His penis pressed against his pants. Painfully pleasant.
He had recorded the interviews Lucy gave to
the talk shows. He watched her on the screen, vibrant, full of life, so different from Jen. His heart ached with want. Although Jen bore more resemblance to Olivia, Lucy possessed more spirit, more defiance. He loved to beat that out of them first. All except for Olivia. He never beat her. He did help hold her down so Shawn could cut pieces of her away but he never was the one to hit or cut.
He would get to Olivia. It was as inevitable as the earth orbiting the sun. He had been kidding himself when he thought he could let her go. He would take her in every way possible and destroy her. He groaned in his chair at the thought of her under him.
Once he took Lucy, the security would be intense around Olivia. Maybe it wouldn’t go away, like he knew it had with Jen. From his surveillance he knew the police were already losing interest in parking around Lucy and Olivia. He was surprised when he saw the sold sign on Olivia’s old house. He hadn’t known they were selling it and had no idea when they would be moving or to where. It didn’t take much effort to find out and when he did, he saw the police were already in the area. But after time, their patrols past the homes were occurring less and less. They didn’t have the time or the resources to keep up a sustained watch. If he took Lucy they might change all that. They might hide Olivia from him. He had his ways to find her though penetrating the security while maintaining his anonymity would be all but impossible. He would have to re-evaluate his plans for taking Lucy and Olivia. If he waited awhile longer, maybe he could figure out a way of getting them both at the same time and end his longing. He touched himself through his pants as he watched Lucy’s interview on the TV. Lucy smiled on screen and it was like she was smiling at him. A dazzling symbol of youth and beauty. He might cut her lips off first. Something so powerful about destroying a beautiful thing. And all it took was a knife and the will to do it. He undid his pants. He needed some release.