by Rozsa Gaston
He hopped off the swing and bounded down the four steps of the front porch. "Let's take a look."
"Where are we going?" she asked, following him down the front path. She had no interest in tracking the hideous sound to its source, but she wanted to stay close to Jack.
"Let's check around back again. Maybe there's something in the bushes behind the yard."
"Are you crazy?" she cried. "What if it comes after us?"
"It won't. It'll be more scared of us than we are of it," he said, heading around the corner.
"How do you know? Are you sure?" She didn't want to sound cowardly, but the strange animal's howl had chilled her.
"I'm sure," he said grimly, striding ahead of her. He swung his flashlight beam from one end of the yard to the other.
Then they heard it.
"Ahh-wooo." It wavered up and down, faintly but clearly.
"Is it coming from over near the Bronx River?" she asked.
"It's farther away than that," he told her.
"You think so?" she pressed, doubtful.
"Yes. If an animal was howling like that down by the river, the bullfrogs and crickets would all be still."
"You know what animal is making that sound," she challenged him.
He turned and stared at her for a moment. "I have an idea."
"What is it?"
"Maybe a coyote," he said.
"No. A coyote? In this area?" she asked.
"Yup. They've been found down in the Bronx, in Van Cortlandt Park. Last summer one even popped up in Central Park."
"Don't they eat small dogs?" She tried to keep her voice under control.
"They mostly eat dead stuff. Road kill, carrion."
"Mostly?"
"They'll attack a chicken or a small animal, if they're hungry enough," he explained.
"That's terrible. What about Percy? What if he's listening to the howling now?"
"He is, if he's anywhere in the vicinity. Dogs' hearing is much keener than their eyesight."
"What can we do to protect him, if he's around here hiding out?" she pressed.
"We can try a few things. Coyote don't like water sprinklers. But then, the same can be said for dogs. They're not fond of bright lights either."
"Yes, but Percy is used to his own home. Maybe if it's a light that he's seen going on and off before in his own backyard, he won't be scared."
"I think there's a motion sensor light in the driveway," he said.
"I don't remember." She clambered over the low stone wall of the back patio, walking the length of the flagstone area waving her arms. No light came on.
Jack followed, then took the lead and went out into the driveway. Two steps from his car, a motion sensor light attached to the house over the garage came on.
"That's good," he said. "A coyote would think twice about walking into the driveway."
"But what about the rest of the property?" she asked.
"Do you think Tom and Nic have a water sprinkler?" he asked.
"Let's look in the tool shed."
Flashlight trained in front of him, Jack opened the shed's unlocked door and beamed the light around. No garden hose or sprinkler presented themselves.
"I think I remember them having a sprinkler on when I've come over before. Let's look in the grass, beyond the patio," Hint said.
He shut the toolshed door and turned back to the backyard. She linked her arm in his, and together they felt their way across the dark, rich carpet of grass.
Her foot hit something in the dark. "Ow!" She stumbled as he caught her arm.
When he beamed the flashlight onto the ground, a bronze sprinkler attachment shone up at them.
"Good. Is the hose here, too?" He knelt down and felt around for the garden hose.
"I think it's over there." She pointed to a dark lump on the low stone wall dividing the patio from the backyard as she rubbed her stubbed toe.
He moved to the spot she'd pointed out. "You're right. Let's get this connected to the sprinkler then find the water faucet."
Hint took the end of the hose and knelt down to connect it to the sprinkler. Meanwhile, Jack used the flashlight to search along the side of the house adjoining the patio. After a minute, he found what he was looking for. Connecting up the other end of the hose with the wall faucet, he glanced over his shoulder.
"Come over here, so I can turn it on," he yelled. The beam from the flashlight danced as he carefully guided her.
He turned on the faucet, and they waited. Within three seconds, the gentle whoosh of the water sprinkler told them they'd been successful. Multiple jets of water rotated slowly from one side of the yard to the other.
"Nice job," she congratulated him.
"Nice job yourself, Fairy Woman," he responded. They stood side by side for a moment, the peripheral spray from the sprinkler misting their faces and arms.
Suddenly, she felt the urge to release all the events of the day, pent up inside her. Her emotions had ranged the gamut from elation to fear. She needed to shake it all off. Tearing off her jacket, she tossed it on the back of a patio chair. The thin black and white dress she wore underneath felt silky and cool against her skin. Kicking off her shoes, she ran toward the sprinkler. She would celebrate Percy's return before it actually took place. She would show the dog now where he most wanted to be.
"Whoa-a-a. Feels divine," she sang out, running through the stream of the sprinkler jets. The cool, sharp spray bit into her neck and back, soaking through the thin dress.
Within seconds, he was beside her, shouting and laughing as the spray hit his body. Together they ran back and forth like kids on a summer evening. Hint thought of Marguerite, wishing she could have been there, too.
She ran back onto the patio, out of breath. Jack raced behind, grabbing her around the waist. Turning, she flung her arms around his neck.
"Hey, Pirate Boy," she whispered.
"Dog Whisperer, you're magic." He buried his face in her neck, amidst a tangle of wet, fragrant hair. Then he lifted his head, his eyes gleaming at her and brought his mouth down upon hers.
Tasting salt, cool water and the biting, tangy smell of male sweat, she inhaled deeply then opened her mouth to allow his tongue and teeth room to explore.
They clung together for moments that lingered like hours. His hands slid up and down her torso. She allowed him to take the measure of her curves, feeling his body vibrate as he lingered over the steepest ones. She was a vine curling itself around an oak, a damp, night flower unfolding into full bloom.
Finally, she stepped back. "I know what we need to do."
"What's that?" he whispered, reaching for her again.
"We need to go back to my place," she said, eluding his arms. "Get some sleeping bags, and come back here."
"No." He groaned, his expression less than enthused.
"How can we possibly sleep inside on the final night before Tom and Nic get back, when Percy's out there somewhere, along with a herd of coyotes?"
"That was just one animal we heard. And I don't think they run in herds. Packs, maybe."
"Whatever. We've got to protect him. And who knows? Maybe he'll come to us when we're sleeping. You know how dogs like to snuggle next to a warm body."
"They're not the only ones. But I like to snuggle in a bed. With sheets. A comforter. You." A fire blazed in his questioning eyes.
"Not tonight. We're coming back here, with everything we need to make sure Percy is safe and no coyote even thinks about coming round," she admonished him.
"That's very thoughtful of you. But what if he's nowhere near? Then what's the point?" he asked.
"The point is, this is our last night to find him before our friends discover he's lost. And something tells me he's around here. I saw him."
"You saw him? Where?" He looked doubtful.
"In my head." She tapped it, ignoring Jack's skeptical expression. "He was lying in tall grass, like a meadow."
"That could be any number of meadows, Dog Girl. He could
be in a meadow in the next state for all we know."
"No. He's in the area. I feel it." She gazed at him firmly. "Come on. We're going back to my place then coming back here."
"Do you have any bedrolls, perchance?" Jack looked frustrated.
"You mean those pads that wimpy city-dwellers put under their sleeping bags because they can't handle sleeping on the ground?" she asked.
"No. I mean those pads people who don't have lots of padding themselves put under their sleeping bags so they can actually sleep."
"Yeah, I've got something like that. Let's go." She walked to the car and waited by the passenger door, shivering in her thin, wet dress. Behind her, he gave a long sigh of resignation. She knew exactly what they had to do tonight. Too bad if Jack had another idea.
Chapter Thirteen
Within forty-five minutes, they were back at Tom and Nic's home in Scarsdale. Jack wasn't crazy about the idea of sleeping outdoors, but he admired Hint's sense of adventure. He hoped he'd find her in his arms again when they woke up the following morning.
"These yoga pants don't do much for me." He pointed to the hem of the black yoga pants she had lent him. They ended midway down his calves. She had also given him an oversized tee shirt so he could change out of the black sports jacket and shirt he'd worn into Manhattan.
"Not a problem, since I can't see your legs in the dark anyway," Hint teased.
"Yeah, but what if mosquitoes find my ankles?" he asked.
"They won't, if you tuck your sleeping bag around you tightly enough. Haven't you ever gone camping before?" She rolled her eyes as she spread out a dark green sleeping bag on one of the chaise longues on the patio.
"Yes. Four nights ago was the last time. And I don't remember anyone I ever camped with sleeping on a chaise longue, either. Is that some sort of city slicker camping style?"
"I just thought we'd be more comfortable sleeping on some padding. Look at how thick it is." She bounced as she sat on the green-and-white striped cushion of the chaise longue. He tried not to notice the motion of her curves under the white tee shirt she wore. Impossible.
"I see. Look at how wide it is, too." The contours of the night ahead were taking on a different shape from the one he'd envisioned.
"It's wide enough for you. What's your problem?" she asked, folding down one corner of the sleeping bag into a neat vee.
It is wide enough for one, not two, he thought as he watched her shake out the second sleeping bag on the other chaise longue. Shouldering her out of the way, he rolled it across the patio directly next to the first one. Only two wrought-iron arms now stood in the way of his plans for the night.
"Is this some sort of 1950s TV sitcom arrangement?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" She pushed him aside, rolling the second chaise longue back to its former position, on the other side of the patio from the first.
"I mean this is how Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz's beds were set up in I Love Lucy."
"This is our last night to find Percy. We're going to do whatever we can to make him feel safe enough to come back here," she said firmly. With hands on hips, she looked like a schoolteacher scolding her class.
"Why will he feel safer with twin beds? Do you think he'll be jealous of me just because he's been fixed?" The inanity of what he'd said dawned on him too late.
Hint stared at him then doubled over with laughter. "I don't think so."
"Just remember what happened to Desi and Lucy," he warned.
"What happened?"
"They got divorced."
"Nine out of ten Hollywood couples get divorced. So what?" She rolled her eyes.
"So it doesn't help if they sleep in twin beds," he said, exasperated. "Where do you think it leads?"
"Jack, get your mind out of bed and onto Percy." Hint laughed. "We're trying to lure him back. He knows my smell. He doesn't know yours."
"Your point?"
"He'll come to me if I'm alone. Over here. He may not come to me if your smell is anywhere near mine."
"Great. So I guess that leaves us telling campfire stories before we fall asleep," he said.
"Why not?"
He watched as she neatly brushed off the soles of her feet then climbed into her sleeping bag on the chaise longue facing his.
Dog Whisperer," he said quietly.
"Yes?"
"You didn't tuck me in."
"Stop it." She sounded stern.
"Stop what?"
"You're being silly," she scolded.
"I'm being totally reasonable," he insisted.
"Go to sleep," she whispered.
"I can't until you kiss me goodnight."
"Jack…" His name on her tongue came out like a purr.
"What?"
"We're going to find him. I can feel it." Her voice had softened.
"Close your eyes," he ordered.
"Already are," she murmured.
"Keep them that way. And don't talk," he commanded.
Silence answered him.
He quietly climbed out of bed and was at her side in five steps. He leaned over her and put one hand on her forehead, smoothing back silky tendrils of hair framing her face.
Her sigh gave him courage to continue.
Carefully, he sat on the side of her chaise longue and lightly touched her face. Feeling no resistance, he began to massage her forehead and temples.
"Uhh… feels good." Her head nestled into the cushion she lay on.
"Shh, Dog Girl. You'll wake the fairies," he told her, his voice low.
"Fairies," she murmured.
"Empty your head," he intoned. "Don't think. Let Percy wander in, in his own time. Don't force him." He was beginning to feel like a dog whisperer himself.
"Hmm…"
He continued stroking her face. Beneath his hands, she slid into sleep. He hadn't gotten a goodnight kiss, but tomorrow was another day. With Hint, the tempo would be slow but steady. Steadiness was something he hadn't experienced with women before. She was unlocking something inside him that he had previously slammed shut against her sex. But that took time. The same kind of time she required to allow him closer.
Silently rising, he slipped away. There was something he needed to do. He hadn't wanted to scare her earlier, but it had occurred to him that the coyote out there might just as well as any other living creature examine them sleeping on Tom and Nic's patio in the small of the night. He didn't think coyotes attacked human beings larger than infants. But as a precaution, he'd make sure no animal visited without them knowing about it. Where Hint's safety was concerned, he would take no chances.
Quietly, so as not to wake her, he walked to his car and opened the trunk. There he took out a coil of thin copper wire and his emergency tool kit. Each item in the kit had a hole at one end, so it could be hung up on hooks on a wall. Quickly, he strung them together onto the copper wire, fashioning a wire fence of metal objects that would clank together noisily should anything or anyone step into it.
Holding one end, he draped the other over his shoulders then made his way back to the patio.
As he approached the chaise longue where she lay, she stirred in her sleep, murmuring. "Snull," she seemed to say.
What? He thought to himself. What's a snull?
"Snull bun," she muttered, turning over.
Snull bun. It didn't sound like a man's name. Why couldn't she have just said his name? He roped the wire cord around the patio furniture and through the tiki lamps at two corners of the low stone wall, marking the end of the flagstone where the backyard lawn began.
In a minute, he was done. He hopped into his own sleeping bag and lay back, hands crossed under his head, gazing at the stars.
Then it came to him — snull bun, snuggle bunny. Looking at the sleeping beauty six feet away from him, he asked God to substitute himself for Percy as the snuggle bunny of her heart.
****
The next morning, Jack woke up to birds singing and a clear sky overhead. He got up, stretched, and walked ov
er to where Hint lay. As he watched her smooth, sleeping face, she opened her eyes and smiled up at him.
"Good morning," she said sleepily.
"Good morning, Dog Whisperer."
"Your eye's a real mess today," she observed.
He sat next to her on the edge of the chaise longue. Her slim fingers wandered over the left side of his face, probing his bruise. Breathing in the scent of her skin, he grabbed her wrist and kissed the sensitive pulse point.
Lazily, she smiled. "No coyotes."
"Only a wolf." His eyes locked onto hers, then he leaned down and pressed his mouth to her lips. In a minute, his body stretched full-length on hers.
For a long moment they lay there, serenaded by the noisy chirping of morning birds. Jack sensed an invisible line drawn that couldn't be crossed until the situation with Percy was resolved. He shuddered, thinking of the possibility of the dog never showing up again.
"Our last day to find him," she finally said, breaking their silence.
"We will." If he said it with confidence, maybe it would chase away her doubts.
"Yes. We will," she agreed. She stretched her arms overhead, like a gorgeous hothouse flower. He reached for her again, but with a languid stretch of her slender arm, she pushed him off the chaise longue.
"I'll be back," he said. "If you need to take care of any business, I promise not to look on that side of the house." He pointed in the opposite direction of the toolshed then headed for the shed.
In a minute, they met back on the patio. She looked him up and down.
"You need to go home and change," she said.
"What — the light of day doesn't favor your clothes on me?" he teased.
"You look better in your own clothes." Then she studied his face. "And you need a shave."
"Thanks."
"Let's get going." She folded her sleeping bag into three vertical sections then sat on it as she tightly rolled it up. She looked as if she knew what she was doing.
After a minute, they were headed down the Bronx River Parkway on their way to Hint's apartment.
"Listen, how about I go pick up the steaks for our barbecue while you get ready?" he suggested as he pulled up in front of her building. "Then we can go up to my place, so I can change — then head on back to Tom and Nic's."