The Practice

by Grant C. Holland

  Anyway, Hadley enjoyed working with his hands and accomplishing tasks that required physical strength and energy. He knew that his lean, lanky body needed the exercise to hang on to his solid muscle tone.

  If he had any energy left by the time Sunday evening rolled around, Hadley would consider joining his buddies downtown at the Blue Goose Bar. Even though Aunt Mae always complained that, “The Lord’s Day isn’t for drinking,” two ice-cold beers while jawing a few hours away with friends was one of the best ways Hadley could think of to ease into another week of work punching out sheet metal patterns at the factory.

  Just before leaving the factory parking lot and turning on to Spruce Street, Hadley fiddled with the radio until settling on the 80s pop music station from over in Mitchell. When he thought about his favorite music, Hadley knew that he was born at least a decade too late. Any time that he had a few spare moments with nothing else to do, he still liked to pull up old Billy Idol or Cyndi Lauper videos on YouTube.

  Hadley sighed with relief as he finally entered Spruce Street. Five blocks later he turned off on Meadow Avenue to take the shortcut across town for Aunt Mae’s. It was a back street, but it had few stop signs to slow traffic down. Hadley never checked for sure, but it always felt like a quicker route than traveling down Main Street through the center of town.

  A blue truck just a few hundred feet ahead chose to use the same route. The lower half of the cab’s back window was plastered with fishing stickers and a Summers Lake bumper sticker. The driver of the truck was clearly a proud local resident.

  While stopped at one of two intersections with stop signs in the drive across town, Hadley watched a black and white medium-sized dog dart in front of the blue truck. When the truck began to move, Hadley assumed that the dog safely finished its journey across the street, but then he couldn’t believe what he observed.

  As the truck continued down the street, the dog hobbled on three feet and then collapsed on the pavement as Hadley slammed on his breaks to avoid a collision. He punched the button to turn on his hazard lights and then climbed down from the cab. Unfolding his lanky frame, Hadley jogged forward and then knelt down to check for life in the stricken animal.

  The dog was breathing, in fact it’s rib cage was rising and falling at an unusually rapid pace. Its eyes were open, but Hadley could see they were not focusing. He also noticed a belly that seemed unusually swollen. It wasn’t shaped like that of a fat dog. Hadley worried that it might be filling up with blood from internal hemorrhaging.

  Hadley knew that Aunt Mae would be wondering about him, but he had a soft spot inside for animals, and he knew that he couldn’t just leave the dog lying on the road. He tried gently slipping a hand under the dog’s body and then paused for signs of pain. The dog’s body shuddered slightly but there was no yelping or sudden jerking to get away.

  Lifting the body from the ground, Hadley slowly carried the dog to his truck and laid it on the back seat of his extended cab. He stroked the dog’s head with two fingers and said, “Hang in there, buddy. I’m going to take you to somebody who can help you.” As he stroked just behind an ear, the dog closed its eyes and the breathing ceased to be as labored. “Just don’t stop breathing on me.” Hadley could feel a single tear form at the corner of his right eye, and he reached up to wipe at it with the back of his right hand.

  Hadley’s family was without pets since Aunt Mae’s beloved Irish Setter Colleen passed away more than five years ago, but Hadly remembered kindly Dr. Benton that ran the veterinary clinic. He put the truck in gear and did his best to drive the shortest distance possible to seek help. All the way across town, Hadley kept glancing to the back seat to make sure the dog was still breathing. He added his words of encouragement, “Dr. Benton will make it all okay. You’re gonna be okay. I won’t let you not be okay.”

  As he pulled into the parking lot at the veterinary clinic, Hadley noted there were only three cars in the lot. That was few enough that it might be only staff. He slammed his driver’s side door shut and raced around to the opposite side of the truck to open the door to the extended cab and gently slide the dog off the seat. Hadley shouldered the door shut and carried the still breathing dog to the front door. He winced slightly when he felt something warm on the fingers of his right hand and realized that it was blood.

  When Hadley approached the door, it was pushed open from inside by a pretty young woman with long blond hair. She said, “I’ve got the door. Just bring her in toward the counter. Dr. Randall will help you.”

  Hadley heard the name Dr. Randall, but it didn’t really register. He laid the dog as gently as possible on the broad counter and then held out his right hand, the fingers streaked with blood. Acting as if it was something she saw everyday, the young woman handed him a paper towel.

  A deep, masculine voice said, “What do we have here?”

  Hadley turned his head to see a stunningly handsome man in a white medical coat. It was like a vision out of one of those TV medical shows with the dreamy doctors. Hadley knew that he was supposed to be focused on the dog, but the man nearly took his breath away. He had dark brown, deep-set eyes, coarse, wavy hair cut short and full, red lips.

  Shaking his head, Hadley was disconcerted that he focused on the lips. He found men attractive before, but he decided during his senior year in high school that he was straight. He knew that he could consult a string of ex-girlfriends who would willingly attest to their agreement with that fact.

  Hadley blurted out, “Where’s Dr. Benton?”

  The blond woman said, “He’s retired. I’m Lisa, and this is Dr. Randall.”

  As the handsome man stepped forward and offered his hand in greeting, Hadley noticed that he was tall, nearly the same height as Hadley’s own six-foot-two-inch frame. He said, “I’m Thomas Randall. I recently took over the practice when Dr. Benton retired.” He turned to the dog. “What’s the story here.”

  Hadley stared in silence at the man. He couldn’t take his eyes off his lips as he spoke. Hadley knew that his gut wanted a kiss, but his head was trying to curb any thoughts of physical intimacy. He couldn’t remember his own name to respond to Dr. Randall’s greeting. Finally, Hadley managed to say, “The dog was hit by a truck in front of me. They didn’t stop, but I couldn’t leave the dog lying there in the road.”

  Lisa sighed. “I don’t know how people can do things like that and then sleep. I would be awake all night wondering what happened to the poor dog.” She reached out a hand and brushed softly at the back of the dog’s neck.

  Thomas swept a hand gently down the dog’s side and said, “She’s going to have puppies before long. Let’s hope we can save everyone.” Another man approached and Thomas said, “Bennett, help me here. We’ll take her back to examination room one. Lisa can deal with check-in and paperwork out here.”

  Hadley watched while they carried the dog to the back. Lisa pushed a clipboard across the desk with a form and a pen attached by a string. She said, “Please fill this out, Mr….um…”

  “Rogers. Hadley Rogers.” That was it. He finally remembered his own name. He leaned forward toward Lisa and said, “But it’s not my dog. I just found her. I don’t know who she belongs to. I don’t think there was a collar on her. Did you see a collar?”

  Lisa spoke softly with kindness in the tone of her voice. She said, “Much of this is a formality. We need to have records about who brought her in, and if you want to know what happens, we need to keep your name attached to the dog.”

  Hadley said, “Of course I want to know what happens, but I guess we should try to find the dog’s owners.” He began to fill out the letters of his name in the little blocks, and then he said, “Wait. Did he say she’s going to have puppies?” He felt his gut twist into a knot. What if the truck driver killed a whole litter of puppies?

  Lisa nodded. “Yes, that’s what he said. Don’t worry yet, though. Dr. Randall has only been here for two weeks, but he’s very very good at what he does. I’ve seen him deal with some tough c
ases already. Dr. Benton would be proud of him.”

  Hadley wanted to call Aunt Mae. He knew that she would start worrying about him being late, but she also insisted that her cell phone was only for emergencies. For Hadley, this counted as an emergency, but if he wasn’t in the hospital or in jail himself, Aunt Mae wouldn’t agree.

  Hadley was still rattled by the experience. He said, “There was blood. I forgot to tell them about the blood. Should I go back there and tell them?”

  Lisa smiled and spoke softly. “They will figure that out quickly.” She paused. “Wait…Hadley Rogers. Your last name is Rogers. Are you related to Mae Rogers?”

  Hadley managed a half-smile. He said, “Yes, that’s my great aunt. Do you know her?”

  “My grandmother goes to tea parties at her house. I’ve heard so many stories about your Aunt Mae.”

  The form was complete, and Hadley pushed it back across the counter. He asked, “What’s your grandmother’s name? If that’s okay to ask. I’m not being nosy. I’m just curious.”

  “Gertrude Oppenheimer. My grandfather was mayor of Catlett’s Cove for four years. His name is Oscar.”

  Hadley’s jaw dropped. The Oppenheimers were at the top of what existed of a social pecking order in Catlett’s Cove. Aunt Mae occasionally spoke of Gertrude Oppenheimer as “snooty” but she valued the social connection. She would never consider holding a party without inviting Gertrude. He said, “Aunt Mae always says wonderful things about your grandmother. They are close friends.”

  Thomas emerged from the back and said, “I just wanted to give you a quick update, and then I need to get back to the patient. It looks like she will be okay, and the puppies will be, too. We need to finish patching her up and keep an eye on her for internal injuries, but your fast action just might have saved a small crowd of dogs.”

  3

  Hadley

  Hadley knew that he wouldn’t have done anything differently if the cost of medical care for a dog entered his mind any earlier. He couldn’t let any animal just lie there and suffer, but he didn’t have spare money lying around to pay for patching up a dog and giving her prenatal care for an unborn litter of puppies.

  Before he left the vet’s office, Lisa said, “It’s just part of our standard rules that I need to ask you about an account for charging the bills for the care Dr. Benton is providing.”

  He said, “But she’s not my dog.” Then he realized that he was the person who brought her in to be treated.

  Lisa gave him a kind smile. “I know that it’s a really difficult situation. I’m sure that Dr. Randall will be fine with me leaving a notation about your circumstances and on Monday, we can talk more about this. He said that she won’t be released until Monday at the earliest.

  “Released? What if they don’t find her owner? Where will she go?”

  Lisa frowned momentarily. “If she has nowhere to go, the only choice then is the animal shelter. They will look for a microchip on her body to identify her owner, but if they find nothing, then she can be released to you.” Lisa reached her hand across the counter and covered the fingers of his right hand. “But don’t worry about any of that over the weekend. You did the right thing. Animals need people like you in the world, Hadley. We’ll figure it all out next week. Right now, she has the best care possible.”

  It was easy for someone to tell him not to worry in a situation like this. Hadley worried about it all the way along his drive to Aunt Mae’s. He wondered if he should drive back to where the dog was hit and go knocking on the doors asking for owners. Then he thought how hard it would be to explain to a little child that their dog had been hit by a car, and he shook his head no.

  He saw another dog on his drive. This one was sitting close to the street just inside the sidewalk. Hadley gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles worried that the dog might bolt into the street, but it only sat and quietly watched the traffic go by.

  By the time he arrived at Aunt Mae’s, Hadley’s nerves were frazzled. He pulled into the driveway and parked behind her car. Then he sat and rolled his head back trying to relax and braced himself for the consequences of arriving nearly two hours late for dinner.

  * * *

  Hadley pounded on the front door calling, “Aunt Mae! It’s Hadley!” He had a key, but he preferred to knock. It could be very startling if he entered the house unannounced, and, at Aunt Mae’s age, he didn’t think sudden surprises were a good thing.

  Mae greeted her nephew with a hug. Hadley sensed already that she was upset. The hug was perfunctory instead of warm. In her calm, stoic voice, she said, “I assume you realize, Hadley, that dinner is cold and already put away in the refrigerator.” Aunt Mae’s ancestors were solid, New England puritan stock. Family relations were important, and being punctual was, too.

  He sighed heavily and said, “I’m very sorry Aunt Mae. Can we go sit in the living room, and I’ll tell you what happened. It wasn’t my fault, and I think I did the right thing.” Hadley couldn’t help feeling like a young boy trying to explain his way out of having done something wrong.

  Aunt Mae was still wearing an apron tied around her waist. She reached down and wiped her hands on it and said, “You can get a beer or iced tea out of the refrigerator, but yes, I would like to hear your story.”

  Hadley grabbed a beer out of the refrigerator. His buddies always harangued him about his poor taste in beer. For Hadley, usually, the cheaper the better, and he kept a ready supply at Aunt Mae’s. She never drank beer and limited her alcohol intake to twice a week at dinner. Those were her red meat meals, and she added a red wine to compliment the food.

  Aunt Mae settled into her comfortable, overstuffed armchair while Hadley sat on the couch. He tried to relax, but Aunt Mae was making it difficult. She never lost control. In fact, she rarely showed obvious signs of anger at all, but Hadley knew her well enough to see it lurking in her flinty gray-green eyes. She was angry.

  “I saw a dog hit by a truck. I had to stop.”

  In a firm, quiet voice, Aunt Mae asked, “Did they stop, too?”

  “No,” said Hadley. “That’s why it was even more important that I decided to stop. She was hurt really bad, and so I decided to take her to the vet.”

  “You took the dog to Emery Benton?” asked Aunt Mae.

  He started to say, “No,” and explain to her about Dr. Randall, but he knew that would require pulling up the man’s image in his mind again. Thinking that clearly about Dr. Randall still made him uncomfortable, so he decided to simply nod instead.

  Aunt Mae nodded in agreement and said, “He’s a good man.”

  Hadley said, “Well, the dog was pregnant with puppies, too. Fortunately, before I left, they said the dog and the puppies should be okay. I was really happy to hear that.”

  “Where were the owners?”

  Hadley shrugged. “We still don’t know about that. The important thing is that the dog is well. They told me that we would worry about all of the rest once she is well. They are keeping her at the animal hospital over the weekend.”

  Aunt Mae’s face was slowly softening as he told the story. She asked, “Do you remember taking Colleen to Emery Benton? He was so good to her.”

  Leaning forward, Hadley said, “I do remember that. I went at least a couple of times with you and Uncle Ed. I remember that they always gave me lollipops and they gave Colleen a big dog biscuit.”

  Aunt Mae smiled. “And it would be gone in thirty seconds.” She wiped her hands on her apron again. “Have you eaten, Hadley?”

  He shook his head and suddenly realized he was still really hungry. Hadley said, “No, I came right here from the animal hospital.”

  “I made chicken and rice. I’ll fix you a plate. I can heat it back up in the microwave.” Aunt Mae’s willingness to put together his dinner meant that Hadley’s explanation for his lateness was acceptable.

  Hadley said, “I’ll come with you.” The thought of Aunt Mae cooking alone in the kitchen at almost any time now made Hadley nervous
. He could imagine her dealing with all sorts of kitchen accidents. She could fall, cut her self, or spill scalding hot water. He closed his eyes when he thought about Aunt Mae lying helpless on the floor.

  In the kitchen, he watched her start to stoop down to reach for a pan. She began to waver off balance, and then she stood back up. Aunt Mae asked, “Could you help me here, Hadley. My joints don’t bend like they used to. Please get that little saucepan out for me. I’ll heat the gravy up in that.”

  Hadley was sure that just last week he watched Aunt Mae retrieve the little sauce pan on her own. He tried to brighten the mood and said, “Maybe when I get my plate together, we can go back to the living room and watch one of your favorite old movies.

  Aunt Mae was a big fan of movies, but she still preferred them in black and white. She was gradually giving Hadley an education in classic film from Citizen Kane to The Wizard of Oz. At first, he thought they were a little boring, but now he was nearly as big of a fan as Aunt Mae.

  Aunt Mae said, “That’s a good idea, Hadley, but make sure you grab that little fold-up table. I don’t want you eating with that plate on your lap. That’s the best way to end up with stains on the rug or on the couch or both.”

  He said, “I’ll get the fold-up table. Don’t worry.”

  The microwave chimed and Aunt Mae pulled out a steaming hot plate of chicken with rice. She spooned a generous amount of gravy over the plate and then sprinkled it all with salt and pepper. She said, “Now you’re on your own,” as she handed the plate to Hadley.

  He brought the plate to the living room and set it on the coffee table momentarily while he found the fold-up table in the front closet and set it up just in front of the couch.

  Aunt Mae pointed the remote control at the TV and said, “You might want silverware for that.”

  Hadley blushed slightly and said, “I”ll be right back.”