Show and Tell

by Amy Shojai

  "No shit." Gonzales handed back the picture. "Her kids?"

  "I think so, yes." He slapped his forehead. "That's why O'Dell sounded familiar. Claire O'Dell was one of the parents we questioned at the Rebirth Gathering last November."

  "Right. There were nearly 200 kids, all with at least one parent, and not one said a word. And that was a single Gathering, we don't know how many others came before." Gonzales opened the car door and climbed behind the wheel.

  About one out of every 88 children fell into the Spectrum, a 78 percent increase in the last ten years. Parents of these kids were ripe for the Doctor’s pitch. "Her kids must have run away, like Doty said. O'Dell figured out they headed here, and contacted September to help. That’s why she wanted the P.I." He paused, and snapped his fingers.

  "Kelvin." They said the name at the same time.

  "Kelvin already had a shady deal going with the Doctor. Bet you my pension the Doctor killed Kelvin." Combs's phone rang. Maybe it was September. He answered without looking. "Combs here."

  "My guy says you're at your girlfriend's house searching for AWOL kids.” Doty, in a perpetual state of pissed, sounded ready to explode. “A whole shit-load of delinquents just got pulled over driving some god-awful pick-'em-up truck without a license." She breathed heavily. "Now you're all caught up on your freaking family ties, are you ready to do your job, Detective?"

  "Wait. What?" Combs ran a hand through his hair. "You found my kids?"

  "Found your son, your daughter, couple of pets and their joy-riding friends." She laughed without humor. "Patrol saw them weaving all over the road, with some sort of high metal rig hanging off the back. Redheaded girl behind the wheel said she belonged to you." She grudgingly added, "They appeared to be fine, but I instructed Patrol to transport to the hospital and check everyone out."

  Combs closed his eyes, and breathed with relief.

  "They tell a wild story we gotta sort out, and mentioned Pit Bulls. And September." She continued, acerbic as ever. "Why is she always involved when something goes sideways? Don’t know what you see in her, Combs. But according to your kids, they weathered the storm with September in a barn. So you and Gonzales get out there, now."

  The news made his heart sing despite Doty's prickly tone. He didn't know how or why she'd ended up there, but he had no doubt they’d find September at the barn. Combs quickly brought Doty up to speed on the O'Dell woman's identity, and what it meant, and disconnected. Doty promised to send backup.

  Doc Eugene leaned forward. "Did I hear right? The kids are fine?"

  Combs nodded. "Let's go get us a bad guy."

  Gonzales started the car. "Hang on tight, Doc. What do you know about dogfights?"

  Chapter 47

  September crouched to keep her balance on the ladder but finally fell to her knees as the crab-climbing Doctor wobbled it side to side. It clinked and clanged a broken bell chorus, and barely clung to the corner of the dumpster.

  Steven scurried higher, with the Doctor in plodding pursuit. If she could get the boy into the loft, she’d dump the ladder, sending the Doctor to join Sunny in the hellish flood.

  "Take my hand." September reached for Steven, careful not to move too far and tip them all off. Better to let Steven come to her.

  Shadow ran back and forth at the far end of the ladder. He'd been silent before. Now his barks became yodels of frustration. Her joy at his survival turned to fear he'd be killed, and then fierce pride how the uncertain puppy had become a confident protector. She hadn't taught him that, but he'd improvised when needed. God, how she loved him.

  September had to trust Shadow to protect himself while she focused on Steven's safety. The kids must have called Combs by now. She could hang on until the cavalry arrived. Didn't have a choice.

  The Doctor couldn't grip with his savaged right hand. He still made creepy progress bracing his elbow and gripping with the good hand. He stopped, grabbed one edge of the ladder, and shook it until Steven's small hands lost their grip, and slid backwards within the Doctor's reach. Steven yelled and kicked at the pale man's face.

  "Hang on, Steven. I'm coming." September scooted on her butt in an urgent race to reach Steven before he fell. The Doctor showed his teeth in what passed for a smile, grabbed Steven's ankle and yanked.

  The ladder rocked, still barely gripping the dumpster's edge. The metal box bobbled and dipped, halfway floating in the tide. Only their weight held the ladder in place.

  September caught a cloying stench of animal feces, infection and wet dog. Something white moved inside the dumpster, but she couldn’t take the time to look.

  She grabbed one of Steven's hands. "Let go of him, you bastard." Her hands ached but she couldn't let go.

  Steven became a tug-toy between her and the killer. The child’s soprano screams sang discordant counterpoint to Shadow's baritone yodels.

  Then the dog fell silent. The ladder shook. Behind the Doctor's oblivious form, Shadow crawled up the ladder one careful paw-tread at a time. A raw scrape bisected his head; a bloody crease carved an opening in the side of his neck, and his face dripped blood into the water below.

  September screamed again, this time to keep the Doctor's attention. One unknowing kick would knock Shadow into the water.

  Shadow had returned to her twice. He couldn’t survive another immersion, not with such severe injuries.

  Steven kicked the Doctor in the teeth, knocking the Reaper's grin off his face and September wanted to cheer. He recoiled backwards, and Shadow's jaws snapped closed on his ankle. The man gasped and released Steven. The Doctor tried to regain his balance, but fell sideways from the ladder, dragging Shadow with him.

  The Doctor belly flopped, folded across the edge of the foul dumpster, head inside and legs dangling outside. Shadow still clung to the shrieking man’s ankle, rear paws trailing in the floodwaters. Suddenly the man's screams cut off. He shuddered, and fell limp.

  September poised to dive after Shadow. It was her turn to save him. But when the dumpster began to move, she reflexively grabbed Steven. The ladder tipped sideways, and they hung for an endless moment before splashing into the icy flood. To save Shadow, she'd have to let go of Steven.

  The dumpster drifted with the water. Shadow’s jaws remained clamped on the Doctor’s leg.

  Shadow's big brown eyes met September's with an expression of acceptance that seemed to last forever. She had no words, but he knew. He always knew. His eyes closed, he unclamped his teeth, and sank beneath the water. The metal dumpster floated the Doctor away.

  September clung one-handed to the partially submerged ladder. She struggled to keep Steven's head above water. Moon glow cast diamonds over the frigid flood. She'd had no choice, and no more tears to give. Only prayers.

  Please God, take care of my dog.

  Chapter 48

  Combs stood aghast when he saw the barn. Or what was left of it.

  The cement frame carried less than half a roof, leaving most of the wooden loft open to the weather. The flood swelled four feet high around the base, turning it into an island that might wash away any minute. The sibilant sound of the water reminded him of snakes. He hated snakes. Floods flushed out all kinds of creepy crawlies. Now that Willie and Melinda were safe, worry for September knotted his gut.

  Uprooted trees and other debris created beaver dams that clogged the new waterway, hitching along in fits and starts before pieces broke loose and surfed away. Nobody could survive unless able to anchor to something solid.

  Combs, Gonzales and Doc Eugene slowly climbed out of the SUV. The veterinarian collected an odd-looking gun from the back of his car that Combs knew held tranquilizer darts, in case Pit Bulls posed a problem. He and Gonzales both carried flashlights. So far, though, he detected no sign of life.

  Gonzales walked closer to the edge of the road, and peered up and down. "If they held dogfights here, the water has done a number on any evidence." He headed to the abandoned sedan, with the driver's door still open, and poked his head insid
e. "Keys in the ignition. An iPad on the passenger seat. Is this September's car?"

  Combs shook his head. And Shadow, he never left September's side. He gazed up at the distant loft. If she was there, they'd need a hook and ladder to get her out. “Hellooooo! September, you there?”

  A dog yelped. "Shadow? Hey boy." Combs searched for the author of the sound, his flashlight spearing the gloom. On the far corner of the barn, nearly out of sight, slanted green metal thrust up out of the water, a fallen tree partially obstructing and holding it in place. "There, is that a dumpster?" It had overturned, and a white dog with spots clung to the top.

  Doc Eugene adjusted his glasses. "It’s a pup. What do you know; we've got a dogfight survivor after all. Somebody cut its chain." Heavy links hooked to the dog's oversize collar clanked and chattered against the metal box. "No way to reach him, though. Smart not to swim. The chain would drag him down."

  "Have to wait for the level to drop." Gonzales examined the sky. "The rain stopped for now. If it doesn't start up anytime soon, flood water recedes pretty quickly."

  Combs eyeballed the debris field both on the ground and in the water surrounding the barn, searching for any motion. Hope tightened his throat when he saw the bundle of clothes, then recognized hangars stuck in the mass caught on an extension ladder half submerged in the flood. Damn. Just showed how tornadoes created havoc, dumping the contents of someone's closet from miles away.

  Gonzales, still at the strange car, examined scuffmarks in the ground, and then reached for his gun. "Combs, I got shell casings. It’s a .45, consistent with a semi-automatic, same as at Kelvin’s office."

  "Doc Eugene, go back to the car." Combs pulled his own gun, and speared his light over the ground. "The Doctor had a Remington Rand." There were lots of those World War Two surplus guns still in circulation. "Here's another shell. And another." He scanned left and right, and then hurried toward the brink of the drop off. "I got the gun." It sat in a puddle next to the road.

  Gonzales cocked his head. "Hear that, Combs?" He surveyed the area, brow wrinkled in concentration. "I could swear somebody's singing."

  "...down came the rain,

  and washed the spider out..."

  ***

  She imagined voices, including the bark of a dog. Not Shadow, she knew his voice.

  September stirred, tried to raise her head, and gave up. She'd managed to pull Steven onto her lap, one arm locked around him while she hooked the other through the overhead ladder rungs. She didn't have the strength to pull them both out, and wanted to hang on and catch her breath.

  When dumped clothing from the wardrobe boxes swam out of the barn, she'd been grateful it covered them both. She didn't fight the sodden mess. By comparison, the worn material kept cold wind from further chilling their forms.

  Steven still shuddered with cold, but September felt warm. She'd stopped shivering. And wanted in the worst way to close her eyes for a nice nap. But not yet. Not until he was safe. "Steven. Steven." She tried to shake him a little, and panicked when she nearly lost her grip on the boy. "You have to climb out. Can you do that? Grip the ladder rungs, and climb out."

  She wondered why her words slurred. Steven acted like he didn't hear her or understand. But even a little kid should be able to manage. "Up up up, climb out. Ona ladder, get in the car." He'd be warmer, safer inside the Doctor's car. The Doctor wouldn't need it anymore. That thought made her want to giggle, but it took too much effort.

  The police would come soon. Somebody called them. Couldn't remember who. "A little nap..." They'd wake her when they came. Her eyes drifted closed.

  Steven started to sing. Little boy soprano, like an angel. Rude audience, shouldn't talk . . .

  If the voices would stop, she could sleep. Asleep, she could dream. About Shadow. Her baby-dog. He'd gone away, hadn't he? She'd done something to make him go away, couldn't remember what. The deep ache of loss hurt, hurt, hurt, God please, she wanted to hold him one more time, tell him sorry, so very sorry. She'd laugh and he’d lick her face, and beg to chase Frisbee and shake his Bear-toy and play sniff-the-cat to drive Macy nuts and wag-wag-wag so hard his tail hurt when it hit her legs and she didn't care but God, the love and acceptance in his big brown eyes, no blame, no judgment, only love and more love and silly sweet baby-dog cocking his head and sticking toys in her face to make her laugh.

  September held out her arms. She could feel him, his furry black warmth in her arms, and clung tight to him, happy again, never wanted to let him go, but still he slipped away, away, away . . .

  ***

  "She's there. End of the damn ladder. Doc, hold it steady." Combs couldn't believe he'd nearly missed her.

  September trailed in the water, barely floating and anchored only by one elbow hooked over a rung. Her waist-length hair had been hacked off, ragged, close to her scalp. The child, could that be Steven? clung to her, repeating the singsong nursery rhyme.

  "September, hang on, I'm coming." Her blue lips never moved, and her eyes remained closed.

  Doc Eugene and Gonzales held the end of the extension ladder while Combs climbed to reach the pair. He had to pry Steven from September's arm, and then handed him back to Gonzales. Steven continued to sing as Doc Eugene wrapped him in a blanket and carried him to the warm SUV.

  Combs slipped into the water to reach September. He gasped at the temperature and his teeth chattered. He could stand in the four-foot flood, but the current greedily sucked and dragged, eager to swallow him up. He hand-walked the overhead rungs, and kept one hand gripped on the ladder, and gently unhooked September's arm. Her icy skin shocked him.

  "Doc, call the paramedics." They had to warm her up. "You got anything for hypothermia?"

  She stirred in his arms. Her green eyes didn't focus. September began to cry. "He's gone he's gone he's gone, oh God, he's gone, my fault." She looked around wildly. "Steven. Lenny? Did you find Lenny, he's a kid. And Shadow, oh my poor baby-dog." She wept.

  "Steven's safe. Put your arms around my neck. Come on, put your arms around me, honey." Combs looped his left arm about her waist, and used his right on the ladder to pull them along.

  September tried to hook one arm on his waist, but it kept slipping off. The temperature quickly sapped his strength, and he wondered how long she'd been in the water. Combs reached the bank, and handed her up to Gonzales.

  He pulled himself out and as soon as their weight came off, the ladder slid from the dirt bank and sank beneath the filthy water.

  "Let me." Combs took the blanket Gonzales offered and cocooned it around September. "Come on, honey, talk to me." He shook her. "Talk to me, September."

  September blinked, and recognized him. "Are you real?"

  With a cry, he hugged her. "Yes, I'm real. You're safe, the ambulance is on the way. Steven's okay, too. All are okay." He smiled, holding and rocking her. "Now that I found you, September, I won't ever let you go. I love you."

  But her eyes overflowed. "I love you too, Jeff. But I've lost Shadow." She turned her face into his chest, sobbing.

  Chapter 49

  September hugged Macy. He cheek-rubbed her face and nuzzled her short wavy hair as though they'd been apart for years instead of a single day. Six days ago, the hospital insisted she stay, but she'd signed herself out after one night against the doctor's orders. She'd been frantic to reunite with her cat, the only thing left of her family, and had visited Macy every day since.

  "He missed you." Doc Eugene smiled.

  "Thanks for keeping him." She forced a return smile. "Mom isn't a cat person." Or a dog person. Not that it mattered any more.

  "No problem. He's welcome to stay as long as you want. Macy has become a favorite around here."

  "What's Robin think of that?" September hadn't noticed the sour woman the past few days.

  "Had to let her go. She wanted more than I could give."

  "A raise?"

  He hesitated. "She’d been helping herself to more than the cash drawer. Pills missing, and a whole sta
ck of my prescription pad. The local pharmacists called when my signature looked off. I’d already caught her mishandling a couple of the dogs.” He shook his head sadly. “Did you know she was BeeBo’s cousin? Makes you wonder what turns some people on the wrong path. Anyway, I turned her in but I don’t think they’ve caught up to her, yet.”

  “I’m sorry.” She knew about misplaced trust and betrayal, had experienced enough to last nine lives. She looked around the clinic, still stroking Macy. “Guess you’ll need a new office manager, huh?”

  He chuckled. “Nikki’s already campaigning for the job. That kid can't get enough of the animals, especially the cats. She loves showing Macy off. Surprises the heck out of clients when he takes his medicine without a fuss." He took off his glasses and polished them on his smock as he spoke, avoiding her eyes. "I'm sorry about Shadow. But he's the reason we found Lenny. Well, with help from Steven's mad computer skills."

  She stiffened, and then made herself relax. Doc Eugene meant to make her feel better.

  She'd been out of her mind with grief, and insisted they search for Shadow's GPS signal. They'd found the dog's collar looped over Lenny's ankle, when Steven used his iPad to track the signal as neatly as any computer geek quadruple his age.

  Lenny had floated over a mile on his straw bale before it hung up on a tree. He suffered internal injuries but would survive, in part due to the protective warmth of the young orange cat that refused to leave him. A miracle. The boy's parents agreed that Lenny could keep the little cat Willie insisted they name Waffles.

  Mom wouldn't stop talking about her genius grandson. Despite Steven's irksome rhymes, September made an effort to connect. She needed to, for herself as much as him.

  Of course, Mom got on her nerves even more. Nothing new there. It sucked not having a car. Or a house. She hadn't decided whether to repair, rebuild or relocate. A clean break would put distance between her and painful memories. Besides, Heartland wasn't truly home, and hadn't been for years. She couldn’t pretend any more. Even her family acted uncomfortable around her, and she couldn't blame them. Coming back to Heartland had been running from the past, and she no longer needed to run. Now she could choose. Live in the present, and plan a future.