Eden Bound

by Darrell Maloney

  Such things didn’t bode well for bad guys.

  He finished urinating and turned around to face the deputy.

  “Mind if I put this thing away first, officer?”

  “Please do. I don’t particularly want to look at it.”

  He zipped his trousers and went to his knees, then lay down on the icy highway.

  He put both hands behind him and interlocked his fingers. Every convicted criminal knows the drill.

  Deputy Sonmore put a knee in the middle of Johnny’s back and cuffed him with one hand while holding his service weapon in the other.

  Only when the cuffs were on did he holster his weapon and run his hands up and down Johnny’s body to check for weapons.

  If the deputy knew he was in mortal danger he wouldn’t have put his weapon away.

  He didn’t know he was about to die.

  -29-

  Maggie was a great German shepherd. Most of the breed are. Almost all of them are faithful and friendly and protective. Very few have sour dispositions or are prone to biting. For that reason they’re great with kids and make excellent police dogs as well.

  Maggie had never been a police dog. She was born in the mine, the granddaughter of Bonnie, one of the original dogs taken into the mine just before Saris 7 struck.

  There wasn’t much need for a police dog in the mine, as there were no police and no criminals to capture.

  Life in the mine was actually a life of leisure for the canine residents. On some days they were sought out by the children to chase a ball or a stick, or merely to be petted and praised, which they were always willing to do.

  Most days, though, they had absolutely nothing to do other than chase each other and nap the hours away.

  In that respect they had a lot in common with the cats.

  Maggie was depressed these days, though.

  She wasn’t her usual self.

  She’d had a litter of puppies two weeks before. Two males and two females. They opened their eyes right on schedule and had healthy appetites. She finished weaning them just four days before.

  By all accounts her pups were healthy and happy and looking forward to long and fruitful lives, first in the mine and then in the compound after the thaw came.

  A lot is said about the curiosity of cats, but puppies are just as inquisitive.

  All four of the pups, once they were steady on their feet, started to wander here and there and everywhere.

  Oh, they always came back to their mother’s teat when they got hungry. They were at least smart enough to do that.

  Then they transitioned from mother’s milk to soft food from a can which was always there waiting for them in a bowl big enough for all of them.

  They no longer had to fight for the best position on their mama’s underbelly and compete for their nourishment. The bowl was always full with plenty of food for all four of them.

  They could now eat at their leisure, as much or as little as they wanted.

  They no longer had to be held on a short invisible leash. They could wander farther and stay gone longer.

  And they began to explore the mine. Sometimes together, often in pairs, but sometimes all by themselves.

  That wasn’t a problem at first, for dogs should have their freedom. It only became a problem when a pup named Lucy wandered away and never returned.

  No one was worried, necessarily.

  She knew where the food and water dishes were. Her sense of smell wasn’t refined as yet, but she could still smell the food from a hundred yards away or better.

  And there were other sources of nourishment as well, in the event she wandered too far away from her food.

  Rats had always been a problem in the far reaches of the mine, but were no match for a spry puppy with fleet feet and sharp teeth.

  Karen was good about filling water and food bowls here and there throughout the mine for a dozen or so cats which didn’t like humans. And which had sought out their own solitude and became feral.

  There was also swine feed, cattle feed, deer feed and chicken feed here and there throughout the mine, wherever the varied species of livestock were kept.

  A hungry puppy knows nothing about various feeds and the nutritional differences between them. All she knows is that when she’s hungry her nose will find her something to eat.

  The humans in the mine, therefore, weren’t worried that Lucy would starve to death. There was plenty to eat, plenty to drink, wherever she happened to be.

  And if she happened to eat some swine food a couple of times it wasn’t that big a deal. It would fill her stomach and wouldn’t make her sick or kill her.

  Maggie, Lucy’s mother, didn’t know that.

  All she knew was that Lucy was no longer getting her mother’s milk, and must therefore be terribly hungry.

  Mothers of all species worry about such things.

  And try as they might to reassure Maggie her baby would be okay, she wasn’t having it.

  She was depressed and miserable and putting miles beneath her paws each and every day, wandering the mine looking for the pup.

  As for Lucy, she was fine.

  She was sniffing around the cattle pen in Bay 24 two days before when one of the big smelly beasts stepped on her tail.

  Actually not the bony part of the tail, but rather the long fur attached to it. It therefore did no permanent damage, but it scared the bejeezus out of Lucy.

  At this stage in her life she was little and vulnerable, and all things big and bulky intimidated her.

  Especially big bulky things which had the nerve to stomp on her.

  She quickly high-tailed it to the far reaches of Bay 24, beyond the last light fixture equipped with a bulb, in what the humans called the “dark part” of the bay.

  And there she stayed, invisible in the darkness, yet able to look out into the lighted area. She was afraid to leave her sanctuary, lest she get tromped on again.

  Occasionally, when the cattle moved to the far side of the pen, she snuck out to grab a bite to eat and some water from a trough she could only reach by standing on her hind legs.

  But it was enough to sustain her until she got the courage to charge past the cattle pen and back to her mama.

  Tomorrow.

  Or maybe the next day, or the day after that.

  There is no animal more timid than a young puppy which has been stomped on by an inconsiderate three hundred pound beast.

  -30-

  The humans were trying their best, searching for hours every day.

  Normally they would look for signs in the form of doggy doo-doo, droppings the puppies couldn’t help but to leave behind on their travels.

  But they could find no such droppings that didn’t belong to one of the other three pups or the adult dogs.

  That was, of course, because Lucy was doing her business where she was most comfortable: in the dark part of the bay.

  They’d walked each and every bay, calling her name.

  But Lucy wasn’t quite familiar with her name. She’d only had it for a day before she went on the lam. For all she knew, “Lucy” was a command for the big smelly beast, perhaps an order for the cow to find her and stomp on her again.

  And she wanted no part of that.

  She heard the humans calling for her when they searched the lighted part of Bay 24, but wasn’t yet comfortable enough to come out.

  Instead, she lay on the salty mine floor and listened to them from a distance as they gave up and went elsewhere.

  She missed her mama, but was too frightened to go look for her.

  And Maggie, besides being heartbroken and depressed, couldn’t understand why her nose couldn’t seem to find her baby. It never failed her before.

  The problem wasn’t that her keen sense of smell wasn’t working properly.

  It was that her nose was confused. There were just too many smells competing with one another.

  In the hundred and fifty yards which separated the main corridor of the mine and the dark are
a in back of Bay 24, there was an abundance of livestock.

  First were the chicken coops, placed closest to the main corridor to facilitate the gathering of eggs each morning.

  A little farther in were the milk cows, again accessible for their daily milking.

  After that was the deer pen, with its eight foot high walls. Then the swine, then the rest of the cattle.

  That many varieties of livestock offered up a plethora of smells, from the livestock itself to the putrid smells of various species’ droppings and the urine they sprayed on the floor each and every day.

  It was no wonder Maggie’s nose couldn’t break through all that to catch the scent of her young pup a hundred fifty yards on the other side of the bay.

  The humans were just as stumped as Maggie.

  Each of them considered themselves smarter than the average bear, and some of them actually were.

  It should have been an easy task, finding a two week old puppy. Puppies never sit still, after all. They’re always bounding here and there and everywhere. She should have been spotted by now.

  And they should have heard from her too.

  Puppies bark when they’re excited or angry.

  They whine when they’re lonely or scared.

  Seldom are they quiet for long periods of time.

  The sad fact was, Lucy wanted nothing more than to call out for her mom.

  She wanted Maggie to come and rescue her from that big, ugly and smelly… thing… that sought out her tail and jumped up and down on it while laughing a hideous witch’s cackle.

  Hey, puppies exaggerate just like children, and she had plans to tell her mom the cow was the absolute worst creature that ever lived.

  But until that happened… until her mom got her out of there, she was terrified of the beast.

  So terrified she didn’t dare make a peep for fear the beast would learn where she was hiding and come after her.

  Puppies are way cuter than they are smart.

  Now, to be sure, the German shepherd is a very smart breed as canines go.

  That’s why they make excellent police and guard dogs.

  But that intelligence is largely learned, not given, and your average German shepherd puppy is as dumb as a box of rocks.

  Lucy was small enough to squeeze beneath the fences separating the livestock pens.

  But she didn’t understand what the fences were there for. And she certainly didn’t understand that the fences kept the cows in their pens, and the beast couldn’t come after her even if she’d wanted to.

  Hour after hour after hour the lonely puppy looked out into the lighted part of the bay at those hideous creatures.

  She really missed her mom. Her sister and brothers? Not so much. But her mom was her hero. And she’d come rescue her. She just knew it.

  Karen stopped her search to head to the security control center, as it was her turn to relieve Bryan.

  She’d hoped to give him good news.

  Bryan bonded with Lucy from the beginning, you see. She was the only one of the four pups with a pure black nose.

  She had that in common with Bonnie, her great-grandmother, who was one of the original dogs brought into the mine. Bonnie was Bryan’s dog. They’d been inseparable for years. He’d collected her from the side of a highway one afternoon when she saw her in great agony, struggling to walk home with a badly broken leg.

  The thing was, she was miles from the nearest house and was dumped on the lonely stretch of highway by an owner who no longer cared.

  Who no longer wanted her.

  Who surely some day would burn in the pits of hell.

  Bryan figured she narrowly escaped being killed by a car, but her right front leg was crushed beneath a tire.

  She didn’t understand why her humans pulled over to the side of the road and shoved her out the door. But she did what abandoned dogs always do and tried to follow her humans until they were well out of sight.

  And seriously, what else could she do?

  -31 -

  Bryan took Bonnie straightaway to the vet. He was out of work at the time and behind on all his payments and the last thing he could afford was an expensive veterinarian bill.

  His pickup was burning a quart of oil a month and the transmission wouldn’t go into fourth gear.

  The last thing he needed was a series of four operations to bring Bonnie’s leg back to what it once was.

  But here’s the thing with people like Bryan who really love dogs: he couldn’t not do the right thing. He just didn’t have it in him. If he had to eat baloney sandwiches and ramen noodles for the next four years so he could pay for the operations he was willing to do it.

  For he and Bonnie bonded immediately. They were best buddies within days. Within a week he couldn’t imagine life without her.

  True dog lovers can communicate with their pets in an unspoken language. While it’s true that dogs can be trained to recognize and understand a few words: fetch and walk and good boy… it’s also true that words aren’t really required.

  At least when it comes to the emotional bond between a dog and his or her human.

  Dogs know they are subservient to humans and they accept it. They’re okay with it.

  When Bryan found a job and came home at the end of a long hard day Bonnie was there for him. She’d fetch his slippers and lay beside him next to his easy chair.

  At night when he retired she took her place on the rug at the foot of the bed. Protecting him from whatever harm might come his way.

  Once, when a pot of boiling eggs was left forgotten on the stove and started a kitchen fire, it was Bonnie who leaped into bed and landed square on his chest, then barked loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood.

  Bonnie knew her place was to serve him.

  There’s an old joke about dogs going crazy when their human comes home. They run around in circles and bark and are on cloud nine because their human is with them again.

  A cat, on the other hand, looks upon the arrival of his human with indifference. Or perhaps disdain, for the human took way too long to come home to feed and water and pet him.

  Here’s a fairly obvious secret about the joke: it’s largely true.

  It’s been said by animal behavioral specialists that dogs know their human is the boss and superior to them. Cats believe they are the owners and that humans are their pets, and show it in their behavior.

  In the first days of their relationship Bonnie was totally dependent on Bryan’s care. The first time he picked her up and carried her broken body on the side of that highway, they locked eyes.

  She read in his eyes a very distinct message.

  “Don’t worry, girl. You’re in safe hands now. I’ll do whatever it takes to make you better, and I’ll make sure that no one ever treats you badly again.”

  He read something entirely different in her eyes.

  “I don’t know why I feel this way, human, since we just met. But I am very good at sensing things, and can read humans very well. I get the sense that you’re a good man, and can be trusted. I place my life in your hands and trust you to do what needs to be done. And I will spend my life serving you and being a loyal friend.”

  Bonnie went through a lot of pain their first weeks together. But Bryan coddled her and cared for her. The string of surgical procedures took almost six months to complete, but when they were finished she could once again run like the wind.

  Pain free.

  All tolled it put Bryan almost thirty thousand dollars in debt.

  But he never regretted it. Not even for a hot second. Bonnie was worth every penny.

  The vet estimated her age at two and a half years by examining her teeth.

  She was barely more than a pup. She had a lot of years ahead of her.

  The pair were tossing a Frisbee at a local park one day when Bonnie chased after a particularly wayward throw.

  When she found the Frisbee in some shrubbery she left it there, for her keen nose picked up something else.

>   A male German shepherd, being taken on a stroll at the edge of the park.

  She looked at Bryan with a question in her eyes.

  “Can I go check him out?”

  Bryan, unfortunately, didn’t speak canine. Especially when spoken telepathically.

  He yelled, “Get it, girl. Get the Frisbee.”

  She didn’t understand many human words back then. She read the tone of his voice, and interpreted it to mean he was giving the go-ahead for whatever she wanted to do.

  She bolted, making a bee-line across the park, barking all the way to get the male’s attention.

  Bryan, at that point in his life spending more time at bars than gyms, struggled to keep up.

  By the time he closed ground on her Bonnie and her new boyfriend were joyfully nuzzling one another and getting to know each other.

  It was a match made in dog heaven.

  The owner of the male was a female real estate agent who immediately took a liking to Bryan, and everything fit together like a hand in a glove.

  For awhile, anyway.

  In those days none of Bryan’s relationships lasted for more than a few months. This one actually held together longer than most, but crumbled just before their first year together.

  But that was plenty of time for Bonnie to have her first litter of Shiloh’s puppies.

  Oftentimes divorcing parents vow to remain friends “for the sake of the children.”

  Bryan and Sue remained good friends too. Not for the children, for the relationship didn’t result in any.

  But then again, dog owners view their canines as four legged furry children with atrocious manners and even worse breath.

  Bonnie was able to have three more litters with Shiloh, and in fact was pregnant when Saris 7 forced her into the mine.

  Bonnie’s nose was pure black. She was a beautiful dog.

  And the missing puppy, Lucy, somehow pulled that very same nose out of the genetic soup and was the spitting image of Bonnie.

  So much so that Bryan cried the first time he saw her.

  Told by Karen that Lucy was still on the lam, Bryan immediately went out in search for her.