by Jean Little
“Oh, good!” Min said. She gave Cassie an uneasy look. “Do you think they’ll help each other settle?” she asked Jess.
“What?” Jess said. Then she followed Min’s glance.
“They’ll be fine together,” she said absently, “but we can’t leave the house until we get some word —”
“What if we never do?” Toby shouted at her, his voice raw. “What if Dad’s lost and we never find out?”
“We’ll deal with that if we have to,” Jess told him, her voice kind but matter-of-fact. “But I don’t think that will happen. I’ve known Patrick much longer than you have, longer than Laura even, and I can’t picture him being defeated by a tidal wave, no matter how gigantic.”
Min, watching her closely, knew she was lying. Even this Patrick person could not live through being swept out to sea or battered against floating trees or … She made herself stop. And she turned her face away in case her fears showed.
Once again, they went to bed without knowing whether Toby’s father was alive or dead.
The telephone call came at four in the morning. Toby almost broke his neck tumbling down the attic stairs. He snatched the receiver from Jess’s outstretched hand and croaked, “Hello.”
Min had come down the hall and stood watching. It felt as though the others were on stage and she was looking on from an orchestra seat.
“How …?” Toby began. “When will he call?”
So it wasn’t his father. Min held her breath. Now Toby was just listening, his face shining, and, after what seemed not long enough to get all the questions answered, he said goodbye.
“He’s alive,” he gasped, hanging up. “Oh, Jess, he’s alive. That was Mark Jennings, his boss. Dad got word through to the station. He can’t come home yet. He has to stay there to cover the story for the paper and CBC. He’s also doing what he can to help…. Oh, Min, he’s alive!”
Then he began to cry, great wracking sobs that left him gulping for air, fat tears rolling down his cheeks and splashing off his chin onto the T-shirt he wore to bed.
Jess pulled him into her arms and hugged him tight.
“Oh, Toby, he’s fine,” she said, tears running down her face too. “And so are you. Should you call your mother?”
“Mr. Jennings said he already called her,” Toby gulped. “She asked him to call me. I’ll bet she was crying. She told him I would want to hear it first-hand. She was right.”
Min stared at the two of them and then jerked her gaze away. She felt relieved, happy and yet wounded somehow. She did not understand the jumble of emotions that jolted around inside her skull. They were all buzzing in there like stuff in a food processer turned on high. Without saying a word, she turned and ran, silently because she was barefoot, back to her room. She did not know Toby’s father. She had no part in this drama. She had no father …
Then she heard whimpering as she opened her door and saw Cassie, marooned on the bed, her very own Cassie whom she had abandoned.
She forgot all about fathers.
“Oh, Cassie,” she whispered. “Oh, my Cass. Here I am. I’m sorry I left you. You’re the only one who has ever been all mine.”
She lay curled up in a tight ball with her cheek pressed against her puppy’s soft body, feeling the tail wag furiously, feeling the small tongue lick under her chin, feeling the quick heartbeat drumming against her cheek.
I must have a father, she told her puppy. But where is he? Who is he? He must be sauntering around somewhere not knowing he has a kid — and not caring. Never ever caring.
She remembered shows she had seen on TV where parents were reunited with children they had given up for adoption.
“If I ever wanted to find mine,” she whispered into the soft ear, “I would have no way to begin. I don’t know one thing about him. I wasn’t Shirl’s. And I wasn’t Bruno’s kid — I know that — but I don’t even know who Bruno was. I couldn’t bear being related to him.”
“Hey, Rap, are you okay?” Toby asked from just outside her closed door.
She did not answer. He would get the message and go if she just ignored him.
But he didn’t. He opened the door and stuck his head in instead. “Jess is making hot chocolate,” he said. “Come on and have some. It’s a celebration.”
Then, as she lifted her eyes, he caught her expression and retreated a step. “What’s wrong?” he said, his voice low and anxious.
And, as suddenly as it had blazed up, the grass fire of Min’s anger sputtered and died, leaving only wet ash. “It’s nothing,” she got out, forcing her stiff lips into the shape of something like a smile. “I’m really glad your dad’s safe.”
“Yeah!” Toby said. “I’ll feel better when I hear his voice, though.”
Min got up and followed Toby to the kitchen, carrying the puppy cradled in her arms, not speaking, not trusting her voice. As soon as they had downed their drinks, in almost total silence, Jess sent them back to bed.
“We’re fetching Emily home come morning, don’t forget,” she called after them. “So get to sleep — or you won’t wake up in time.”
Yawning prodigiously, they obeyed.
11
Bringing Emily Home
THEY LISTENED TO THE NEWS on the radio while they ate their breakfast. It was hard to take in. The number of people the tsunami had killed seemed to have almost doubled overnight. Houses, whole villages, were gone. There were so many wives searching for husbands, mothers looking for children, babies who seemed to belong to nobody.
“I wish I could do something,” Min said, turning down the volume for a moment.
“So do I,” said Jess. “We’ll go by the Red Cross office on our way to Jack’s and make a donation. That’ll be a start. If you’ve finished, dump the dishes in the dishwasher and get your coats. I’ve called Jack to remind him we’re coming.”
Min’s heart leapt and then, as she looked down into Cassie’s comical face, sank into her shoes. She wanted to go for Emily, but the thought of leaving Cassie behind made her feel like bursting into tears. Maybe the puppy should come too and meet Emily at the clinic. She asked Jess.
“No,” Jess said firmly. “Emily is going to have a hard enough time adjusting once she gets here. Cassie will be fine with Maude Motley watching over her. You are very motherly, right, Maude?”
Maude looked down at Cassie as though she were looking at a lower life form — a slug, maybe — and sniffed. Even Min giggled.
When the car stopped in front of the clinic, Min’s stomach tightened into a knot of worry. What if Emily had not made it after all and, when they went in, the doctor would be waiting to tell them gently that it was better this way?
But Dr. Miller was watching out for them. Before he went to bring Emily out, he told them all her troubles. She had rotten teeth. He thought she had colitis. She had an infected paw. And she was severely malnourished.
“How old do you think she is?” Jess asked.
“Three, maybe. It’s hard to tell. This little creature has had a very rough time. She’s even been pregnant, but I doubt the puppies lived. It was not so very long ago either and she was in no condition to be bred. Anyway, she’s much better now, but I must warn you … she’s a frightened dog. She doesn’t trust people — you’ll soon see. She has been half-starved and then lost the pups and then been badly hurt. I found what I think are teeth marks from a coyote or a large dog. Anyway, the bad time is over. Let’s start her on her new life.”
He led them into the back and lifted a small, quiet dog out of the cage where Emily had lain. Min gasped. Emily had changed so much. And yet she looked so small still, and so frail.
After being with Cassie — bouncing, bright-eyed and filled with curiosity and devilment — Min was shocked to her core by Emily’s stillness. She stood and stared until the veterinarian said, very gently, “She’s yours, isn’t she, Min? Would you like to take her in your arms?”
Min hesitated a fraction of a second. Emily looked so fragile. Then she gently lifte
d the small, too-quiet dog and held her close, but not in the confident way she held Cassie. She felt afraid of hurting her. But, safe in Min’s arms, Emily suddenly wagged her tail hard. She did not raise her eyes to the girl’s face, but gazed past Min into the distance. Only her tail signalled recognition.
“Hello, little Em,” Min whispered to the top of her head. “Nobody will hurt you now.”
They were soon back in the car with medication and instructions on feeding her and treating the paw, which was no longer filled with pus but was still sore. Nobody said much. Even Toby, peering at the strange dog, was quiet.
When they entered Jess’s house, Cassie was just inside the door, bouncing up and down and giving little cries of relief and excitement. She seemed to have believed they would never, ever come back. She was overjoyed to see them again.
Catching sight of Emily, Maude Motley shot up the cat tree in the living room and turned her back. She stared out the window and looked as if she were waiting for them to remove this new thing and apologize. Clearly she had not recovered from the shock of Cassie’s arrival and was not at all keen on another interloper being introduced.
“Do you think I should just put Emily down on the floor?” Min asked, uncertainly. Cassie’s leaping about might well frighten shy Lady Emily out of her already scattered wits.
“Sit down on the rug and keep her on your lap while you let them meet. Keep your hands low so they don’t come in between them and let’s see what happens,” Jess advised.
Min seated herself, cross-legged, and loosed her hold on Emily, who was trembling violently. She opened her mouth to say soothing words when the little dog half-fell, half-scrambled onto the floor and fled in behind Jess’s big chair, where there was a dark corner. She scuttled in as if she wanted a place where she could hide away for the rest of her life. “It’s all right, Emily,” Min crooned, crawling after her.
Emily did not even turn her head. She stayed absolutely still. No matter what was said to her, no matter what food was offered, she did not stir. She crouched there all morning. When Cassie went after her and sniffed at her, she gave a tiny growl, but it was hard to hear.
Jess looked at Min’s stricken face. “Do you remember yourself when you first went to Robin Randall’s house?” she asked.
Min stared up at her, wide-eyed. She did remember. She had refused to speak. She had pushed her head in under the pillow on her bed and she had not made a sound until a long time had passed.
“What did she do?” Toby wanted to know.
“Just what Emily is doing,” Jess said quietly. “I think maybe we should do our best to pretend Emily’s not there, for a while, and see if Cassie can win her over. Puppies are powerful persuaders.”
All three of them had trouble ignoring Emily, though. First Min would go over with a bit of cheese. Emily seemed not to know the girl was there. She clearly had never met cheese, let alone eaten it. Ten minutes later, Toby tried some ham. Emily seemed unaware of both him and his offering.
“She’s not a dog at all,” Toby blurted, losing patience. “I’ve never heard of a dog refusing meat — especially such a bag of bones.”
Jess gave him a long look.
“When I brought you home from the hospital, I had to coax you to swallow an ounce of your formula. You didn’t seem to understand how eating worked,” she said quietly. “You had been given your bottle in the incubator by gloved hands seemingly unattached to anyone. I talked to you and I sang to you and I played tapes to you and you grew, in that box. When you finally weighed over four pounds and I was allowed to bring you home, you would have no part of being held in my arms at first. I was worried sick.”
Min was fascinated by the story. She stared at the two of them, understanding better the special feeling they showed when their eyes met.
Toby dropped at Jess’s feet and tipped his head back so he was looking up at his godmother. “I’ll bet I was a fast learner, though,” he teased. “You can cuddle with me any time.”
She laughed and pushed his head away from her knee. “Not all that fast,” she told him. “I aged a couple of years during those first weeks. You were worth taking time over, though. And Emily will be too. We must just make haste slowly.”
“Oh, look,” Min said, pointing.
Cassie had pushed in next to Emily, curled up in a ball and yawned. A moment later, she was snoring softly. And Emily’s tail was waving to and fro as she bent her head to give the puppy’s ear a nervous lick.
“Oh,” Toby started.”They’re …”
“Adorable,” Min breathed.
“I had a feeling Cassie would make the first breakthrough,” Jess said. “But don’t imagine Emily is over all her trauma. If Cassie pushes her a bit, that’s all to the good. Older dogs are almost always patient with puppies.”
They all had Christmas books to read so they busied themselves, watching the dogs with sideways glances.
When Cassie wakened, she came bouncing out of Emily’s dark corner, but Emily still did not follow.
Min brought a dish of Emily’s food to her hiding place.
“Wait, Min,” Jess said. “Maybe this is a good moment to take Emily out to the kitchen. Let’s try feeding them together. You bring the food, calling Cassie, while Tobe fetches Emily. Be prepared for her to shiver and try to escape.”
It was a good thing she warned him, because Emily, who had seemed so passive, started struggling so wildly when Toby picked her up that he had trouble holding on.
Cassie had no such qualms. The moment Min put her food bowl down, the puppy instantly plunged her flat black face into it. Min put Emily’s dish next to Cassie’s and stood back, and Toby began to lower Emily toward the dish.
“Min, she’s going to bolt,” Jess said, watching. “We’ll have to start by hand-feeding her.”
Emily landed awkwardly and skidded on the tile floor, despite all Toby could do to calm her. She looked terrified. Min sank down next to her and held out some of the kibble, softened with warm water, on her palm. Emily took a tiny nibble and backed away.
“I think she wants to get it away from Cassie to eat it,” Toby said.
Min moved closer to Emily. The dog immediately turned her back on everyone and gobbled her single grain of kibble. Min held out more. Emily backed away from the hand as though it held something dangerous, but when Min stayed absolutely still, she made a small dash, grabbed another bit and faced away from them again while she gulped it down with frantic haste.
“No you don’t, Cassie,” Toby said suddenly.
Min’s head jerked around, outraged at his scolding her darling, only to see Cassie calmly helping herself to the food left in Emily’s dish.
“Heavens! How will we ever get food into her if it takes all three of us, and even then Miss Cassie is too quick for us,” Jess said, helpless with laughter.
Min stared up at her. What would she do if they could not work out the problem?
“Don’t look so worried, Min. I don’t give up on children or dogs,” Jess told her. “I think we’ll have to give Emily a couple of extra feedings. She needs a lot more meat on her bones. You can practically cut your hand on them.”
It was a strange day. They ended up listening while Jess read aloud. While she did, they took turns sitting quietly close to Emily, reaching out slow, gentle hands to stroke her. Cassie kept romping over, coaxing her to come and play, but she settled at last, as though she were enjoying the story too.
Min loved the book. It was called Sandry’s Book, the first of four with the overall title Circle of Magic. It started with Sandry shut up alone in the dark, with nobody knowing she was there. Min, tensing with fear for her, found herself locked up again in the darkness of the closet at Bruno’s — just like in her nightmares. When help finally came to Sandry, Min felt a weight lift from her own heart.
Emily at last ate more and, when they carried her outside, she relieved herself as though she were used to using the snowy outdoors as a bathroom. Cassie raced about, plunging
her small face into the cold white stuff and then shaking it off, so that her head and flying ears were constantly the centre of a small cloudburst.
“She’s like one of those snow globes the Dittos have,” Toby laughed.
Cassie was a born clown, keeping her game going while they all laughed at her and applauded. When they were done, Cassie trotted in after Min but Emily, although she started to follow, froze at the sight of the small back step. No coaxing could make her step up and enter the house. Toby tried luring her with kibble, but she just stood, quaking, staring off into space.
“You know what,” he said, “she never looks at us. She stares past us.”
“I think many dogs don’t like to meet a steady gaze,” Jess said. “But you’re right. She never looks at people. I wonder if she sees us.”
“She sees Cassie,” Min said.
Toby bent to lift Emily up the step. The moment he raised her paws off solid ground, she began to thrash about again, desperately fighting to get down.
“Easy does it, Em,” Toby said quietly into her soft ear. Then he looked at the others.
“What is it?” Jess asked.
“I think somebody must have picked her up and then dropped her instead of putting her down carefully. She’s afraid I’m going to let her fall.”
He set the little dog down gently despite her terrified struggling.
Jess shook her head. “You could be right,” she said softly. “But we’ll teach her to trust us in time, poor baby.”
Min ran after Emily, who was heading back to her hidey-hole.
“Don’t chase her, Min, or she might grow even more afraid of people,” Jess warned.
Min knelt on the carpet and stretched out her hand to where she could touch the quivering dog. “It’ll be all right, Emily,” she crooned. But her voice broke.