by John Gray
The twenty-something woman said, “That’s me. I just need you to sign two forms, mark that the adoption fee has been waived, and Penelope is all yours.”
Delores scanned the two pages from the envelope, and as she signed her name she wondered aloud, “Waived. Why was the fee waived?”
Crystal said, “Oh, because the dogs technically have been living here at the café, they didn’t cost us anything. So, no fee.”
Delores looked over at Raylan behind the counter and remembered in that moment how rude she had been when she first met him, questioning why he’d have dogs in a place like this. She realized that his taking in those dogs had allowed her to meet Penelope, and his kindness even took care of the adoption fee. Raylan returned her stare, and as their eyes met, he smiled, knowing how happy this puppy made her feel. Delores mouthed the words thank you so only Raylan could see, and without missing a beat he quietly mouthed back, you’re welcome.
As Crystal got ready to go, a young girl, of high school age, was off to the side looking over some of the pottery that Raylan sold. She attempted to take a large pitcher and bowl down from a shelf that was a few inches too high for her, when both slipped out of her hands.
“CRASH!” They both hit the hardwood floor, exploding into a dozen pieces. The sound was so loud and jarring, everyone in the café literally jumped in their seats. Gavin happened to be glancing in exactly that direction when the glass smashed and saw that the crash was only inches from the head of the sleeping dog Ella.
As the teenager apologized and looked on the verge of tears, Raylan ran over with a dustpan and broom in hand saying, “Nothing to be upset about, I put those up too high, that’s MY fault, not yours, young lady.”
That’s when Gavin tilted his head to the side, the way a dog does when you say one of their favorite words like ball or treat.
He realized something that everyone else in the café apparently just missed, saying out loud, “She didn’t move.”
Chase looked over from where she was standing with Delores and asked, “Who didn’t move?”
Gavin pointed at the still sleeping dog and said, “That dog. The dish crashed right next to her and she didn’t move a muscle. Is she okay?”
Raylan, concerned now, reached down and touched the soft white fur on the dog’s back, causing her to jerk awake, startled.
“She’s fine,” Raylan said, adding, “Ella must be a heavy sleeper.”
Oscar, watching all of this from a nearby table, said, “You guys are kidding, right?”
Chase replied, “About what?”
Every face looking Oscar’s way was blank, so he added, “She’s deaf.”
Raylan, Chase, Gavin, Delores, all of them were staring dumbfounded at Oscar now, none saying a word, when he added, “You guys didn’t know that? How could you not know that?”
Raylan pointed down at the pup. “She’s deaf. This dog right here?”
Oscar, “Yes, one hundred percent.”
Chase thought a moment, and then remembered something. “Wait, that day I met you, I saw you training Ella with hand gestures. You weren’t saying ‘sit’ and ‘stay’ out loud.”
Oscar nodded in agreement. “That’s right, because she can’t hear. Did you think I trained all dogs like that, without speaking?” he added with a chuckle.
As Oscar went over to pet the small, thin puppy, and Raylan went back to cleaning up the broken glass, Crystal, the woman from the animal shelter, had a confused look on her face, now saying, “Can I ask you guys a question?”
All eyes turned in her direction, as she continued, “Why do you keep calling her Ella?
Raylan replied, “’Cause that’s her name.”
Crystal, more insistent now, replied, “No it’s not.”
Raylan let out a loud sigh, frustrated, then pointed at the pup’s neck. “LOOK. She has it sewn right into the collar you send with all the dogs when I take them in. Look right here, E L L A. Ella.”
Crystal looked away, confused, then snapped her fingers and said, “WAIT. I remember now. I was off the day she got dropped here at the café. The new girl who was filling in brought her here, remember?”
Deb, who was coming back from her break and caught the last part of this conversation, called out from behind the counter, “That’s right. I was here when Ella got dropped. But, nobody told me she was deaf.”
Crystal said, “I’m so sorry. This was a huge screw-up.”
She looked over at Oscar now, saying, “Yes, she IS deaf. You were supposed to be told that. And her name …”
The young woman crossed the café, to get close to the dog, bent down and touched Ella’s collar gently and said, “The lady who sews these collars for the shelter messed this one up. She missed the B, but because she sews the collars for free, I didn’t want to send it back and make her redo it.”
Crystal then looked at all their astonished faces and said with an embarrassed look, “And because the dog is deaf, I didn’t think it really mattered. I mean deaf dogs can’t answer to their name anyway, right?”
Raylan looked down at the scrawny puppy and said, “So all this time, her name wasn’t Ella? It was …”
Chase beat him to the punch. “Bella. Her name is Bella.”
She turned sharply and looked at Gavin. As their eyes met, he whispered, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”
CHAPTER 17
I’m Not Asking for You
The moment Delores and her new puppy left the café, Chase jumped to action, saying, “I need Gavin, Raylan, Oscar, and shelter lady. I’m sorry, I forgot your name …”
The woman replied, “Crystal, I’m Crystal.”
Chase continued. “Yes, sorry, Crystal. I need the four of you in the kitchen right now, please.”
Deb agreed to watch the register as the group disappeared into the back.
Chase, “I don’t have time or the desire to explain why, but I think I know who is supposed to adopt Bella.”
Chase then looked at Gavin and said to him, “Do you remember what I was worried about all day when Scooter started barking? Who I was worried about?”
Crystal smiled, “Who? Who is supposed to adopt her?”
Gavin, understanding where Chase was going with this, looked toward the shelter woman, explaining, “The place where Chase lives, there’s a neighbor, a little girl …”
Gavin then directed his attention back to Chase, asking, “Why would you think this child would adopt a dog she’s never met?”
Chase patted Bella on the head and said, “In a way she has met her. Every time she looks in the mirror.”
Gavin then, “You lost me.”
Raylan, “That makes two of us.”
“Three,” Oscar echoed.
Crystal raised her hand, “Fourzees.”
Chase again, now more insistent, said to Gavin, “Think about it. Charlie, an only child, who is deaf and alone and nobody understands.”
Crystal: “So this little girl, she’s deaf like Bella?”
Gavin again: “Yes. But that’s not the only reason we think they’re a match.”
Chase shot Gavin a look and said in a firm tone reserved just for him, “Yeah, best we not get into that, though, or we might scrabble up everyone’s thinking, you know what I mean?”
She raised her eyebrows to drive home her point that she wanted him to zip it on their other reasons.
Gavin nodded. “Right, right.”
Raylan asked, “What are you two talking about?”
Gavin turned to Raylan, “Another time. The important thing is Chase is right, this pup might be just what Charlie needs.”
Oscar, who had been listening quietly, added, “The little deaf girl’s name is Charlie? How sweet.”
Chase turned toward Oscar, asking, “The sign language you do with the dog. Is that something you just made up or do you actually know sign language?”
Oscar looked at all of their faces that were waiting on his response, and said, “My best friend growing up was deaf. I
learned sign language so I could communicate with him. Why?”
Chase bit her bottom lip and engaged Oscar’s kind eyes. “I know it’s a big ask, but can you disappear for a day and come with me to the country? I can’t talk to Charlie, not the way you can. I think if you …”
Before Chase could finish that thought, Oscar took up Bella’s leash and said, “We’ll meet you out front.”
Just then the kitchen door swung open, and Chase’s friend and driver, Matthew, poked his head in. “Are we electing a new pope? What’s going on?”
Gavin replied, “What’s going on, my handsome Antonio Banderas-looking friend, is you are driving a bunch of us back to Briarcliff.”
Chase interrupted. “Matthew, can you take us all back to the house in the country and stay for a few hours? Then when Oscar is done, bring him back wherever he needs to go?”
Matthew replied, “Of course, but who is Oscar?”
Oscar pushed passed him with the dog and said, “Me. Let’s go, Antonio.”
Matthew jokingly replied, “It’s Matthew, actually—I’m better looking than him.”
The drive from the city to Westchester County seemed to take twice as long as usual because of Chase’s anticipation.
Her mind kept playing over and over again how she had reached into that Scrabble bag for the fourth time and pulled out that B E L L A in that exact order, and now a dog with the same name was sitting next to her in the back seat.
Gavin squeezed her hand, leaned in so only she could hear, and said, “Is this how it felt in Manchester for you, after the windows?”
Chase didn’t need to answer. Her eyes told Gavin that feeling of nervousness and excitement in the pit of his stomach were familiar territory for her.
Luck was on their side. As Matthew pulled into the circular driveway in front of the house, she could see Mary the tutor and Charlie were already outside near the large red barn.
“Oscar, you and Bella come with me, everyone else hang back, okay?” Chase said, as they exited the vehicle. Mary waved hello as she saw her new neighbor and a harmless-looking man with a dog on a leash approaching.
Charlie saw them too, but looked away, pretending to be uninterested in this unexpected house call.
Chase began, “Hi, Mary, hi, Charlie. I wanted you both to meet a friend of mind. This is Oscar.”
Mary translated what Chase said to Charlie using sign language, but there was no reaction.
Mary then asked, “I’m sorry, is Oscar the man or the dog?”
Chase giggled. “Oh, my fault. This is Oscar,” she said, while patting him on the shoulder. Then Chase looked to Charlie and said, “And this is Bella,” pointing down on the scared-looking pup.
Oscar noticed instantly that the little girl and the shelter dog were an almost mirror image of each other’s movements. Both looked frightened and both avoided eye contact with anyone.
Chase took a beat, then said, “The place I used to live in Manhattan has a coffee shop below it that takes in dogs from the shelter, dogs that need homes. Bella here, is in need of a home.”
Instead of relaying what Chase said, word for word, Mary turned to Charlie and signed, “Honey, give me a minute, I want to talk to Chase alone.”
Mary then gently took Chase by the elbow, leading her twenty feet away so the conversation would be private. Charlie decided to sit down in the grass under an apple tree, so Oscar copied her exact movements, without saying a word. Bella the puppy was still on the leash at his side.
Mary, in a somewhat stern voice, said, “I know where you are going with this, and God bless you for thinking of her, but there’s something you don’t know.”
Chase swallowed hard and just stayed quiet now, as Mary continued, “Charlie had a dog who died. They got the Golden Retriever before she was born, so when Charlie came along the dog was already seven years old. His name was Rex or something obvious like that.”
Chase just listened said, “Okay.”
Mary again, “So, Charlie was four when the dog died, and it just crushed her.”
Mary looked back at Charlie to make sure she was all right with Oscar, then back at Chase. “If you ask me, her withdrawal really started not long after losing her dog. Her parents asked her about getting another one, but she refused. She said no dog could replace the one she lost. So, instead, they got her the horse, but you know from your own pup, a horse is not the same. They don’t kiss your face or sleep at your feet.”
Chase nodded in agreement. “No, they don’t.” Mary finished. “So, as kind a gesture as this was you bringing—what’s her name?”
“Bella,” Chase said gently.
Mary continued, “As kind as this was bringing Bella, she’s not going to want the dog.”
As Chase listened, a short distance away, Oscar kept petting Bella and then did something that completely surprised Charlie.
When he saw her look over, Oscar used sign language to ask, “Have you ever thrown horse poop when it freezes?”
Charlie looked astonished for two reasons. First, this stranger she assumed was ignoring her knew sign language. And second, why was he talking about horse poop?
There was an awkward pause, so Oscar continued, “Horse poop. I see you have a barn, so you must have horses. In the winter, their poop freezes into small hard balls.”
Charlie was fully engaged now, following his every unspoken word.
Oscar, laughing now, continued his slightly inappropriate tutorial. “You take those frozen poop balls and go down to the driveway where it’s a smooth surface and you fling them like a snowball or a baseball.”
Charlie’s mouth opened wide, and she fought back a giggle.
Oscar continued, “Oh, you’d be amazed how far you can throw them.”
For the first time since Oscar arrived, Charlie responded, signing back to him, “Don’t your hands stink from touching the poop?”
Oscar replied, “Not really, because it’s frozen solid. But you can wear gloves if you want. Works well either way.”
Mary and Chase both turned when they heard the two of them laugh out loud together. Mary was about to return to see what was funny when Chase took her by the arm and said, “Hold up a sec.”
The two women stood and watched. Only Mary was able to pick up parts of the private conversation, because she knew sign language.
Oscar looked down at Bella, who just lying still and being a good girl, and said, “Do you want to pet her? She doesn’t bite.”
Charlie stared at the quiet dog and seemed uncertain what to do. Just then Oscar waved his hand to get Bella’s attention, touched his nose, and she jumped up in a perfect sitting position.
He then motioned for her to spin in a circle, which she did, causing Charlie to smile brightly. Then Oscar pointed to the spot next to Charlie, waved his finger, and Bella went over and laid down only inches from the little girl’s knee.
Charlie wasn’t stupid. She knew a set-up when she saw one, but before she could tell Oscar she didn’t want the dog, no matter how cute she was, he surprised her again when he signed, “It’s okay, I know. Don’t worry about it. You aren’t the only one who feels that way.”
Charlie, confused, asked, “Feels what way?”
Oscar again, “That she’s, sort of, well, I’ll just say it … broken. Bella. She can’t hear. Who wants a dog who can’t hear? You can’t call them. You have to teach them sign language, and I don’t have to tell you, ’cause you know, that’s a LOT of work.”
Charlie reached out her hand cautiously toward Bella and she, just as carefully, returned the gesture, pushing her warm nose slowly toward the little girl’s fingers, giving them a sniff.
Bella looked up at Charlie now with her light blue eyes, wagged her tail a bit, and took a chance by giving the tips of her fingers a kiss.
Charlie then said to Oscar, “She’s not broken. Why would you say that?”
Oscar replied, “Isn’t that how you feel sometimes? My best friend growing up did.”
Charlie looked up. “What do you mean?”
Oscar replied, “I had a friend just like you. He was born deaf. It was hard sometimes. People don’t understand what it’s like.”
Charlie put her tiny hands on the puppy’s head, now feeling his soft fur, then signed, “No, they don’t.”
Charlie asked, “Is that who taught you sign language, your friend?”
Oscar smiled. “It sure is.”
Oscar then looked over at Mary and Chase and then back at Charlie, saying, “My friend Chase thought you might like Bella, but it’s okay if you don’t want a dog right now. I’d take her myself, but they don’t allow dogs where I live.”
Charlie kept petting Bella, and now the pup inched closer, putting her tiny front paws on Charlie’s bare arm, making them tickle a bit.
“What will happen to her then?” Charlie asked with a concerned look.
Oscar shrugged his shoulders. “I guess she’ll go back to the café where she was living, and we’ll hope a stranger comes in who likes deaf dogs and adopts her.”
Oscar paused a moment and then touched Charlie’s arm to get her full attention, signing, “Here’s the thing, though, and I can only say this to you. Whoever takes her won’t understand her the way someone like you would.”
Charlie looked down at the puppy and emotion started to swell inside her. She remembered how it hurt losing her last dog, and now she wanted to open her heart to this poor, silent puppy.
Oscar continued. “These nice people think the dog is here to help you. That’s not what I think.”
Charlie signed back, “You don’t?”
Oscar, “No, they got it backwards. I’m not asking for you. I just met you, but I care about Bella and I’m worried she won’t find the kind of love she deserves.”
Oscar paused a moment, then signed, “I took this long drive out here, to meet a little girl named Charlie, because I was hoping it was you who could help her.”
Charlie and Bella just stared at each other a moment longer when Oscar added, “They say broken crayons still color just as bright. This little girl, this puppy, is a star, she just needs the right person to want her.”