The Changing Season

by Manchester, Steven;

  Razor wasn’t three feet out the door when Billy said, “You were brutal with him, Arlene. Why did you even go through all that?”

  She smiled. “If he left here without a dog, he would have just gone somewhere else and they might have let him have one.”

  “Clever,” Billy said. “So that whole spiel was really about letting him know there were criminal charges for dog fighting?”

  Arlene nodded and then laughed. “That might have been my best performance yet,” she said, adding a wink.

  Billy nodded solemnly.

  Arlene stopped laughing. “Is everything okay, Billy? You seem blue.”

  “Blue?”

  “Sad,” she explained.

  He thought about talking to her, but quickly shook his head. “I’m just not feeling well, that’s all.”

  “Not feeling well, huh?” She studied his eyes. “Does it have something to do with that girl you’ve been seeing…Vicki?”

  Billy nodded. “We broke up,” he whispered, trying not to break down in front of his teacher.

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, without prodding further. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest? You haven’t taken a sick day all summer. We’ll be fine without you for one day.”

  He shook his head. “I appreciate it, but…”

  “Go home,” Arlene repeated; it was more of a command than a suggestion. “You need to grieve properly before you can heal.”

  Billy nodded. “Thank you,” he said, starting for the door.

  “You’ll get past this, Billy,” Arlene called out. “It’ll take some time, but trust me…you’ll survive it.”

  I don’t know, Arlene, Billy thought, it doesn’t feel that way. As ordered, he headed home to mourn.

  ⁕

  Billy was moping around the house when he spotted Vicki’s painting of the dock. His heart did a nose dive in his chest. He stared at the painting, remembering every moment of that magical night in vivid detail. Now, while his eyes misted over, he found that the painting was just another source of unspeakable pain.

  Although Billy couldn’t bring himself to throw it away, and doubted he ever would, he finally put it in the attic—out of sight.

  As he descended the attic stairs, he began to think about his first date with Vicki at Agave Restaurant—when we got caught in the rain, he thought. He shook his head. Don’t you do it! he scolded himself. It was such a perfect night and, by trying to remember it in detail, he knew he could never do it justice. You’ll either cheapen or ruin it, he thought, preferring it to remain perfect. Just let it go, he told himself, as he did every time the thought popped into his head—swatting it away like some pesky house fly.

  Although Billy refused to remember the date, he couldn’t get Vicki’s face out of his head. With Jimmy by his side, he logged onto Facebook and clicked on Vicki’s home page to gawk at her pictures. “Oh God,” he gasped. “She’s so gorgeous,” he told Jimmy, his voice raised an octave.

  The old mutt immediately pawed at Billy’s hand, as if trying to draw his attention away from the computer screen.

  Billy felt like he was going to throw up again. He clicked off her page, promising himself to never visit it again. “No more cyber stalking,” he told Jimmy. “I can’t do it anymore. I just can’t.” But he knew better. Right or wrong, Jimmy and I will be looking at Vicki’s beautiful face again tomorrow.

  Jimmy continued to paw at him.

  As Billy stood and headed for the backyard with the four-legged old-timer, he sensed that the break-up with Vicki had already changed him; matured him. He pondered all that had happened and told Jimmy, “Even if it did cost me big time, I did what I thought was right. And I’d do the same thing again.” Just knowing this helped to define—for himself—the man he was becoming.

  Chapter 14

  Billy was taking Jimmy on a rare morning walk when he spotted Vicki on the sidewalk across the street. Oh my God, Billy thought, it’s her! While she pretended not to see them—and Jimmy made it more difficult by barking his head off—Billy realized, As much as she loved me just a few weeks ago, she hates me at least that much now. Throwing embarrassment to the wind, Billy stood frozen and stared at her. I miss you so much, Vicki, he screamed at her in his head, hoping she would somehow receive his heartfelt message. But Vicki stayed strong, never offering so much as a slight glance in their direction. While Jimmy barked louder, pulling hard on his leash to visit his old friend, sharp painful tears filled Billy’s eyes. Vicki suddenly glanced over and shot a longing look—at Jimmy. Go talk to her! Billy prodded himself, remembering that same desperate pep talk he’d given himself the afternoon of his graduation party. Vicki turned and began walking in the opposite direction. While Jimmy howled away, panic coursed through Billy’s veins. Talk to her now! he pleaded with himself, before it’s too late. But his feet stayed firmly planted. I…I can’t. It just wouldn’t be fair, he was thinking when he heard himself scream out, “Vicki!” For one brief moment, she looked over her shoulder and met Billy’s gaze. The longing in her eyes was no longer there. She turned back around, picking up her pace. Oh God, Billy thought, feeling like she’d just broken up with him again, it is too late. His heart ached and his swollen eyes began to leak down his face. His true love’s rejection of him was absolute and permanent. “Let’s go home, Jimmy,” he said, trying unsuccessfully to dry his eyes. “She’s not coming back.”

  They weren’t twenty feet down the sidewalk when Billy thought, If she ever called and wanted me back, I’d jump at the chance. And then he reprimanded himself for allowing that glimmer of false hope. But it’s never going to happen, you idiot.

  ⁕

  While Billy put in extra hours at the shelter, his mom looked out the kitchen window and noticed that the shed door was open. Hmmm… Throwing on her slippers, she went out and closed it.

  Maybe an hour later, she realized she hadn’t seen Jimmy. She went to the back door and called out, “Jimmy, Jimmy, come here, boy.” But the dog didn’t come. That’s odd, she thought, trying to remember whether she’d let him out earlier. After scouring the house, she went to the back door and called out again, “Come on, Jimmy. Time to come in, boy.” There was no response. Maybe he’s out gallivanting? she thought, jumping into her car to search the neighborhood. Each loud summons produced the same results; there was no sign of the mutt.

  She parked in the driveway, got out of the car and screamed, “Jimmy!” Still, there was no response. Her fear grew. After a few more screams, she decided, He’s lost! She picked up her cell phone and called Billy. “Jimmy’s missing,” she said, her voice betraying her gut-wrenching fear. “I’ve looked everywhere and can’t find him. I don’t know what else to do.”

  ⁕

  Billy didn’t even punch out. He sprinted toward the parking lot, yelling at Arlene over his shoulder as he went. “I have to go. Jimmy’s missing.”

  “You need help?” she yelled.

  “I’ll call you if I do.”

  “Okay,” she yelled louder, “but make sure you call me either way, okay?”

  Billy nodded but was already in the Honda, speeding away.

  Billy drove home at breakneck speed. After an unsuccessful spot check of the neighborhood, he skidded into the driveway, threw the shifter into park and sprinted for the house. Where are you, Jimmy? he wondered, his mind already wracked with fear. The frantic search was on.

  A quick tour of the house confirmed that the aged dog had to be outdoors. Billy ran for the backyard. “Jimmy!” he screamed, “Come on boy.” He waited. There was no response. It was twilight, the fading light painting long shadows across the abandoned yard. Billy’s eyes struggled to pick up any slight movement. “Come on, Jimmy,” he called out again. As each summons grew louder, the more panicky he felt—and his voice betrayed his fear. Nearly hyperventilating, tears began to blur his already limited vision. “Please, Jim
my,” he whispered, sorrowfully, “come home, buddy.”

  It was getting dark fast. “Jimmy!” Billy screamed at the top of his lungs, scanning the yard for any movement. Still nothing. As he continued to call for his missing friend and the outcome started to look bleak, desperation filled his soul. Billy began to pray, realizing it had been a while since he’d talked to God. We haven’t spoken in a long while, he said in his head, feeling bad about it, and I realize there’s nothing worse than talking to someone only when you need something from them… He looked toward the dark purple sky. “Please forgive me, Lord,” he said aloud, “but I don’t want Jimmy to pay for my stupidity. Please just let me find him… soon.”

  As Billy searched, he scolded himself for neglecting the loving dog. “How would I feel?” he said aloud. And then it dawned on him. The shed, he thought, sprinting for it. As a boy, whenever Billy was sad, he and Jimmy went straight to the shed to be alone. They’d sit in the corner behind the lawn mower and a treadmill that had only been used twice; it was a safe campsite to think and cry and even scream, undetected.

  After throwing open the shed door, Billy climbed over two boxes of Christmas decorations and a half bag of lawn fertilizer before he spotted Jimmy lying in the corner, wide-eyed and panting. Billy lunged the last few feet to reach his old friend. “Oh Jimmy,” he said, hugging him tight, “I’m so sorry…for everything.”

  The old mutt stood slowly and looked at Billy, without a hint of judgment or resentment in his soft mocha eyes.

  Pushing things aside, Billy helped Jimmy out of the shed and hurried to fetch him a bowl of fresh water. As they sat together on the shed’s stoop, embracing each other, Jimmy lapped up the bowl while Billy wiped the tears from his face. “Sorry, buddy,” Billy said. “I know I haven’t been around all that much these last few weeks, but there’s been a lot going on.”

  Jimmy licked Billy’s face before placing his head in his master’s lap.

  “But that’s no excuse,” Billy said, kissing the dog’s head. “You’ve always put me first and I need to start doing the same.” He stroked Jimmy’s silver muzzle. “I’m so sorry,” he repeated.

  Jimmy reached up and laid another kiss on Billy’s cheek.

  Billy locked onto the dog’s gaze. “You’ve always loved me more than you love yourself,” he told him, nodding gratefully and giving the mutt a strong squeeze. “You’re mine and I’m yours and nothing can ever change that.” He hugged the dog even tighter.

  Billy’s mom appeared from the shadows and interrupted the emotional reunion. She knelt on the ground and stroked Jimmy’s coat. “You had us scared out of our wits,” she told the dog. “The next time you want to sulk, do it in the house, okay?”

  Jimmy raised his right paw, placing it on her thick thigh.

  Billy shook his head. “There’ll be no more sulking for Jimmy,” he said, in a promise as much to himself as to his canine partner.

  While the three continued to bond, Billy’s cell phone rang. He looked at the number. “Shoot, it’s Arlene. I forgot to call her.” He answered the phone. “I found him,” he blurted. “He’s a little dehydrated but fine.” He listened. “I know, I know,” he said, smiling, “I have the perfect trip planned for just the two of us.”

  Billy hung up the phone and looked skyward. Even when you’re being ignored, God, you still listen and care, he thought. And this time, you came through big time! “Thank you, Father,” Billy whispered.

  His mom looked at him, but never questioned it. “Amen,” she whispered.

  Jimmy licked his paw and ran it across his dusty face.

  ⁕

  Out of the blue, Billy’s dad invited him on a two-day road trip. “We’ll be hauling grain,” he said, “and I’ll pay you for your help. What do you say?”

  “I’d love to, Dad, but I can’t take any time off from the shelter.”

  “What are you saying…you don’t get any days off?”

  Billy nodded. “I do, but…” he said and then paused, his mind galloping.

  The old man broke the silence. “You’ll be off to college soon, so this’ll give us some time…”

  “Okay, but Jimmy needs to go,” Billy blurted into the cell phone; it was more of a statement than a request.

  “Of course,” his dad said. “You know I love having that mangy mutt around.”

  Billy knew it was his dad’s way of helping him out financially, but two days and an overnight with his father could be an eternity. Well, at least Jimmy’s coming along, Billy thought. “Let’s do it, Dad,” he said. “It’ll be fun.”

  ⁕

  They drove in silence through nearly two full states, until Billy’s dad began reminiscing about how fast the time had flown by and all the great memories they’d made along the way.

  Their first stop, The Kozy Nook Restaurant, reminded Billy of the place he’d gone to with his father when he was a kid and was duped out of scoring a soda.

  A row of chrome stools—topped with red, faux leather—sat beneath a long white counter sparkling with silver flakes sealed within it. Booths took up one side of the place, while tables seating six or more were situated on the other end. The walls were lined with dark paneling, dating the place. Eggshell-white paint covered the top half. But you could hardly tell. The walls were completely covered in nostalgic advertisements or framed photos of locals playing softball, fishing, bowling—engaged in one activity or another—with beers in hand. This was a working-class joint, blue-plate specials served with a smile to blue-collared workers.

  Behind the counter, there was a soda fountain and Billy laughed when he saw it. And there was also a juice machine, orange juice circulating in one of the clear plastic containers and lemonade being recirculated in the other bin. A stainless steel milk fridge dispensed milk in three flavors: plain white, chocolate and coffee, a New England favorite. A mix of muffins and donuts was stacked within a glass, dome-shaped cake plate. A condiment rack, containing salt and pepper shakers, ketchup, vinegar and an assortment of jellies for the breakfast crowd sat atop each table, lining the length of the counter. A chalkboard was covered in multi-colored daily specials, penned in fancy script. Menus were protected beneath plastic sheets; some of the prices had been whited out and updated several times.

  “I’ll have a mug of hot coffee, black,” the old man told the waitress before turning to Billy. “You want a tonic?” he teased.

  Billy laughed, impressed that his dad actually remembered. “Nah,” he said, looking up at the young waitress. “I think I’ll get a cola,” he said before going back in his mind.

  ⁕

  It was their first road trip together. After turning eight, Billy had been invited to accompany his father on a short delivery run to Boston. As kids, Billy and Sophie were never allowed to drink soda—only water, milk or Kool-Aid—so when the waitress came to the table and asked, “Would you like a tonic?” Billy was confused. He looked up at his dad for help.

  “Order whatever you want,” his dad told him, grinning.

  Billy’s mind raced at the possibilities, but he had no idea what tonic was. Disappointed, he ordered, “Chocolate milk.”

  “I’ll have a tonic,” his dad told the girl, “and make it a cola.”

  While the waitress walked away to fill the drink order, Billy looked up from the menu like he’d been backhanded. “Cola?” he asked.

  The old man nodded. “In Boston, tonic is the word they use for soda.”

  Without thinking, Billy slapped the table while his dad laughed hard. It was the bitterest glass of chocolate milk Billy had ever tasted.

  ⁕

  Billy looked up from his daydream to find the young waitress still standing there. She was probably a year or two out of high school, but old enough to be sporting some new body ink—several tattoos of Chinese symbols that she trusted was the message she’d wanted. She also had a message tattooed in so
me strange font, running the length of her forearm, which made it difficult for Billy to read—though he tried his best.

  Billy ordered, “A patty melt, cooked medium, with onion rings.”

  The old man said, “I’ll get the American Chop Suey,” which was essentially macaroni and hamburger in a red sauce.

  “Why don’t you just ask her what the tattoo says?” his dad suggested after the third time Billy’s neck twisted sideways.

  “What fun is that?” Billy joked.

  The big man laughed.

  When the order arrived at the table, his dad went heavy on the grated parmesan cheese. “What’s the latest on Charlie?” he asked, already tearing into his meal.

  Billy shook his head. “He’s in protective custody, still awaiting trial. It’s going to be a rough road ahead for him.”

  The old man shook his head. “That’s a damned shame. Charlie’s too pretty to serve time.”

  “I know,” Billy said, feeling a chill over the truth of it.

  The old man shook his head. “…surrounded by animals spitting in his food and who knows what else.”

  “I get it, Dad,” Billy said, starting to feel sick over the mental pictures flashing in his mind and wanting desperately to talk about something else.

  As if picking up on it, his dad devoured a giant forkful of macaroni before changing the subject. “You ready for school?” he asked, his mouth full.

  Billy shrugged. “At the beginning of the summer, I was wondering whether I should even go to college…”

  “What?” his dad said, his fork dangling in shock.

  “It took forever,” Billy said, grinning, “but I’ve finally figured out what I want out of college.”

  “You have?” he said, excited to hear more.

  Billy thought about it for a moment and nodded. “You know, when I first took the job at the animal shelter I thought it was going to be just another meaningless summer gig. But it hasn’t been. It’s been the furthest thing from meaningless.” He nodded. “I always knew I loved animals, but something’s happened since I started working there…something’s changed, you know?”