by S. Tamanaha
“We’ve called the police and the paramedics,” someone said.
“Call John, too. He’s at the studio doing voice-overs.” She thought it was Isabel who said it.
The paramedics arrived first, then the police. As the paramedics treated her wounds, the police questioned her and then interviewed the other guests. The paramedics offered to take her to the hospital but she refused, saying that she would go to the hospital after she was certain that her dog was in good hands. So they gave her some mild pain medication and cleaned and dressed the wounds as best as they could. She was still seated in Isabel’s kitchen, holding Angel protectively, when Johnny came rushing in. Isabel, and a few other people who were in the kitchen with her, left to give them some privacy.
“Susan, what happened?” he asked, his voice full of concern. “Are you all right? Someone called the studio and said there’d been a dog attack.” He saw her torn blouse then and the bandages that only partially covered the deep wounds on her right shoulder and back.
“Son of a bitch!” he exploded. “Who the hell is responsible for this?”
“Johnny, please don’t get mad at the wrong people. It wasn’t Isabel’s fault or anything. Angel’s okay. That’s the main thing.”
“Well, you’re not okay,” he said angrily. “That damn dog could have killed you. I want to know whose dog that was. A dog like that shouldn’t have been at an event like this.”
“It wasn’t with anyone who was here. It just came out of nowhere. Let’s just take Angel home and get her settled and then take me to the hospital, okay? And carry her please and don’t yell because she’s frightened enough as it is.”
Isabel came up to them as Johnny was leading her out of the house. “Darling, I am so sorry.” She was almost tearful.
“It’s all right Isabel. It’s not your fault.”
“We’re going to find the owner of that dog. I promise.”
“I want to know who it is,” Johnny voice was controlled now, but the look in his eyes was dangerous.
“Of course,” Isabel assured him.
Johnny put Susan and Angel gently in the car and then drove home carefully.
“I should never have let Isabel railroad you into doing this stupid event,” he said. He was trying to keep his voice calm but he was furious.
“Please don’t start blaming yourself, okay? Or Isabel. Everything was fine except for that dog.” She was sitting sideways to avoid leaning on her right shoulder which was throbbing with pain now. Angel was beside her, clearly subdued. She stroked the little dog lovingly. “It’s okay baby. It’s okay,” she said soothingly.
Johnny reached out and squeezed her hand. “I heard someone saying that it was the bravest thing they ever saw. You covered Angel with your body so that the dog couldn’t get to her.”
“It wasn’t bravery,” she said. “I just couldn’t let anything hurt her. Not ever.”
He realized then the lengths to which Susan would go in order to protect what she loved and he loved her even more, if that was at all possible. When he reached their house, he carried Angel inside, got her settled into her little bed with her favorite toy beside her, and then retrieved his camera, which Susan said was necessary in order to record her injuries.
He drove Susan to the nearest hospital, holding her hand the entire way, trying to be comforting but feeling helpless. He felt sick when he saw the wounds that were covered by the bandages. The Doberman’s claws had inflicted deep scraping wounds on her shoulder and back where it had been able to tear through the material and there were bite marks on her shoulder where it had gotten a hold of her and tried to drag her off Angel. Fortunately, the dog had apparently grabbed a lot of hair and blouse material when it had done this and bitten into muscle without causing any apparent nerve damage. Her injuries could have been much worse. She told the doctor that she wanted Johnny to take photos before he bandaged the wounds, which Johnny did. Then the wounds were cleaned more thoroughly and dressed with fresh bandages and she was given stronger pain medication as well as a tetanus shot and antibiotics to prevent any possible infection. The wounds were not cuts that could be stitched but deep gouges and punctures that needed to heal on their own.
Johnny drove her home, helped her to change her clothes, and put her to bed with Angel nearby, sharing her pillow. She could only lie on her left side and he placed cushions and pillows along her back to prevent her from rolling the wrong way during sleep and another one in front of her to keep her arm from dropping. The pain medication had made her sleepy, and he lay beside her for a while, stroking her hair gently, talking to her soothingly, until she fell asleep. For her sake, he spoke calmly and quietly, but he was seething inside. Someone had hurt her and that someone was going to pay.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Over the next couple of days, they learned that the Doberman was owned by Gerald Tungsten who had recently moved into the property adjacent to Isabel’s. When the dog had been chased off, at least three people had seen it jump over the wall that separated Isabel’s property from the Tungsten property. The police had investigated and discovered that Mr. Tungsten did in fact own a Doberman, but he categorically denied that his animal was the one involved in the attack. The police nevertheless checked on the animal’s medical history to confirm that it had been vaccinated against rabies. Johnny was infuriated when he learned of Mr. Tungsten’s denial of responsibility. He wanted to talk to the man in person but Susan stopped him. She knew it would futile and, seeing how angry Johnny was, she was certain that a confrontation would escalate into something physical.
“Johnny, if you go over there, he could have you arrested for trespass or assault. If you want to get even, you need to help me in other ways. First, you need to find us a good private investigator—a really good one. We have to learn everything we can about this man. And then you need to find us a good personal injury lawyer, one who’s handled dog bite cases before.”
Johnny did as she asked. The investigator, a man by the name of Timothy Goddard, came highly recommended by Johnny’s agent. They went to meet him at his office in downtown L.A. and Susan liked him immediately. He was the antithesis of the type of private investigator that often appeared in movies. He looked to be in his fifties and with his salt and pepper hair and wire-rimmed glasses, he could have passed for a college professor. He was, however, a former police detective who, after retiring from the L.A.P.D., spent several years as an insurance fraud investigator before going into private investigation work. He had the kind of demeanor that made him easy to talk to and she noticed that the pictures of his family sitting on his credenza included a dog.
Susan explained what had happened that day and told him about Gerald Tungsten’s denial to the police that his Doberman had been involved. Johnny showed him the pictures of her wounds that he had taken at the hospital. She gave him a thumb drive that contained a copy of a video of the attack.
“My performance with Angel was being recorded that day so you’ll be able to see for yourself what happened,” she said. “And the name of the person who took that video and the other quests are on here.” She handed him a sheet of paper. “I want him held accountable,” she said firmly. “And it’s not just about money. I want him forced to build an enclosure that can contain that dog because it’s dangerous. Or I want him to give that dog up to some sort of rehabilitation or behavior modification center.”
Goddard looked at the photos of her wounds and then at her. Her right arm had been put into a sling to keep it stationary and he could see that she was in pain.
“I’m a little surprised. Most people in your situation would be insisting on having that dog put down.”
“It’s not the dog’s fault that it has a stupid owner,” she said.
Goddard smiled a little. “What kind of information do you need?”
She told him to find out everything that he could about Gerald Tungsten—how much he was worth, whether he had insurance that covered this type of claim, the details of any law
suits or charges against him, particularly any involving his dog, and his habits, particularly those related to his dog. She also wanted confirmation that he owned that dog and, if possible, some kind of proof that Gerald Tungsten had known about the event being held at Isabel’s home. Finally, she wanted to know whether there was anyone else who owned a Doberman in the immediate area and, if so, what it looked like.
While they waited for the report from Timothy Goddard, Johnny took care of Susan and Angel. The dog seemed to be back to her usual happy self in a couple of days; Susan’s wounds healed more slowly. Johnny helped her to bathe in order to keep the injured area as dry as possible and to change the dressing on her wounds. He also helped her to dress and undress since it was painful for her to lift her arm. Yet, in spite of her pain, she tried to do everything else that she usually did—cook, clean, work, and care for Angel. She often removed the sling when it hindered what she was trying to do. She was stubborn, and unwilling to allow her injuries to interfere with her life. Johnny tolerated it for as long as he could and finally put his foot down. A couple of days after their meeting with Timothy Goddard, he came home from work carrying several bags filled with frozen breakfasts and dinners, frozen pizza and pot pies, frozen desserts, fresh fruits, and packaged snacks. He told her that he didn’t want her to cook for the next two weeks. Everything he had bought was for her to eat during the day and he would buy dinner for the both of them on his way home from work. He also told her that she wasn’t to do any housework; cleaning could wait or he could do it on the weekends. Susan protested but Johnny was firm.
“I mean it,” he said sternly. “You’re too damn stubborn for your own good. You’re mad at this Tungsten guy so you’re refusing to admit how much his stupid dog hurt you, but you are hurt and if you keep straining that arm and stretching that skin, you’re just making it harder for your wounds to heal. So unless you want to get into a huge fight about this, you’re going to do what I say because I’m not going to let your stubbornness hurt you again.”
It was difficult for her, but she had to admit that Johnny was right. Her stubbornness was going to impede her healing. She went to him, slipped her good arm around his waist and hugged him. “I don’t want to have any kind of fight with you ... big or small.”
He held her securely, making certain that he didn’t touch the area of her injuries, and smiled gently. She was conceding and he knew that it wasn’t easy for her. “So does that mean the same thing as ‘All right, Johnny, I’ll eat all the food that you bought and do as you say for at least the next couple of weeks.’? I want to be clear, especially since I’m dealing with an attorney.”
She still had her head resting against his chest and nodded. “Except for the pizza. I hate microwavable pizza.”
Johnny couldn’t help but laugh a little. He lifted her face and kissed her tenderly. “You’ve always taken care of me. Let me try and take care of you now, all right?”
“You do so much already. Helping me bathe and dress and change my bandages.” She turned her head and kissed his hand. “Thank you.”
“Hey, you don’t have to thank me, all right? I love you and I want to take care of you. Besides, bathing you and dressing you ... I wouldn’t exactly consider that work.” He smiled and kissed her again.
She looked at him sadly. “I know that we can’t make love right now but ... I could still do it ... for you, Johnny—”
“Stop it!” Johnny pulled away from her angrily. “What the hell’s the matter with you? Do you think that’s all I care about?”
His sudden anger stunned her. “Don’t be angry, Johnny. I just thought—”
“What? That I’m such a low-life that I’d want my injured wife who’s in pain to get me off? Is that what you think of me?”
“I just wanted to make you happy.”
Her explanation only seemed to make him angrier.
“You know what would make me happy? If you’d stop thinking that I’m just like all those other men you have no respect for.”
“That’s not what I think—”
“I’m going for a run. I didn’t exercise today.”
Johnny turned abruptly and walked off, leaving her alone in the kitchen. He changed into his running clothes and left the house without saying another word to her.
Susan took Angel out to the backyard for her last outing and then sat together with the little dog on the patio swing. She felt miserable. She hated the pain that she was feeling, hated Gerald Tungsten for causing it, hated the fact that she was sitting in a backyard that gave her no peace because there was no water to watch and get lost in. Most of all, she hated the fact that Johnny was angry at her. She hadn’t meant to insult him. She had made her offer out of love, but he had taken it the wrong way. She pet Angel who was lying next to her and wondered if she was happy. She tried not to, but she began to cry.
She was still seated on the swing when Johnny returned from his run. Exercising had cooled his temper and he regretted the way that he had reacted to her offer. He realized that it had been made out of love. It was just that he hated being categorized and made to feel that he was no better than all the other men in the world in her eyes. It made him feel as though he could be replaced in her life; that he wasn’t special. He walked over to the swing. Angel was lying on Susan’s uninjured side and he gently picked up the little dog, pet her, and moved her to the other side of Susan so that he could occupy her spot. He could tell that she had been crying and felt like kicking himself. He hated when she cried other than when they were making love because she wasn’t the type to cry easily. He knew that he had hurt her. He put his arm on the back of the swing behind her so that he could be as close to her as possible without touching her injuries. But before he could apologize, she leaned against him, resting her head on his chest, and beat him to it.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to make you angry. I just wanted—”
He lifted her face and kissed her to stop her from continuing. “I know. And I’m the one who’s sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. I just ... I don’t ever want you to think that sex is more important to me than you are, because it isn’t. And I don’t want you thinking that I’m just like all those other guys.”
“I don’t think that, Johnny. I could never think that. I wish that I could explain in words how special you are to me and how much I love you. It’s why I want to make you happy.”
He wished that he could hug her. Instead, he kissed her again tenderly. “If you want to make me happy, then you’ll do whatever you can to get well. Every time I see you in pain, see your wounds, I think of what could have happened to you, that I might have lost you.”
“I know that I get too stubborn sometimes,” she said. “I don’t like it when people try to tell me that I can’t do something—can’t survive on my own, can’t be an attorney. Every time they told me that I couldn’t do something, I got angry and it made me try even harder to prove them wrong. Letting my pain stop me from doing something, it’s like letting it and Gerald Tungsten tell me that I can’t. But I know you’re right about the wounds not being able to heal so I’ll do what you want me to.” She pressed closer to him. “That should prove to you how special you are, you know. You’re the only one who’s ever been able to convince me to be level-headed when I get stubborn like that. Ask my family.”
He caressed her hair softly. He liked being the only one who was able to counter her stubborn streak. It was actually a trait that he admired; it demonstrated her inner strength, her unwillingness to let other people stop her from achieving what she wanted to achieve. It only upset him when that stubbornness threatened her well being.
“You keep me level-headed too. If it wasn’t for you talking me out of it, I would have gone over to confront that Tungsten guy. You have no idea how much I really want to hurt that son-of-a-bitch for hurting you like this.”
“There’s only one way to really hurt a man like Gerald Tungsten—through his pocketbook. Maybe
we’ll be able to do that if Mr. Goddard comes up with the right kind of information.” She looked up at him. “Right now, though, do you want to go in and eat the last home-cooked meal that we’re going to have for a week?”
He looked at her, one eyebrow raised. “How long?”
She smiled. “Okay, two weeks. You win.”
It took three weeks to receive the report from Timothy Goddard. By that time, her wounds were significantly healed, thanks to Johnny’s strict care, and the pain was only intermittent. The report was extensive and thorough and well worth waiting for. Gerald Tungsten’s financials showed that he was worth suing even if he didn’t have insurance, which he did. There were a couple of prior complaints filed against him and his dog before he moved into Isabel’s neighborhood although none of those complaints involved actual injuries. More importantly, Mr. Tungsten had been training his dog at a canine obstacle course. Mr. Goddard had visited the obstacle course, taken photos, and talked to the people there about Gerald Tungsten. He had hoped to find some information about Mr. Tungsten’s training methods. What he discovered was more than he expected. Susan smiled when she read the report and called Mr. Goddard up with specific instructions. One evening, while she and Johnny were just about to sit down to dinner, Mr. Goddard called. As she listened, she smiled. Then she asked him if he could have everything delivered to her in a couple of days and thanked him.
“Good news?” Johnny asked.
She nodded. “I think so,” she said. “Now we have to see the lawyer. But I have to call Isabel first and warn her.”
“Warn her?”
“That she and the Abandoned Animal Organization are going to be named in the lawsuit but not to worry. I don’t think this is going to make it to a trial unless Gerald Tungsten is a very, very stupid man.”
“Well, he sounds like a very, very stupid man,” Johnny said.
“But he’ll have an attorney with him. I think he’ll listen to what I have to say when the time comes.”