Something Like Thunder

by Jay Bell

  “What do you mean?” Nathaniel said, his voice terse.

  “He might need to be put down.”

  Nathaniel struggled to breathe, listening as Sheila explained. When she was finished, he only managed four words before he hung up. “I’m on my way.”

  He turned and strode toward the nearest street, surprised when he heard Kelly’s voice beside him. “What’s going on?”

  “You were right,” Nathaniel said. “I need to go home. Which way to the closest station? Can you call me a taxi? Fuck!”

  Kelly glanced around. Then he pointed. “That way. You’ll probably find a taxi already there. What happened?”

  “Zero,” Nathaniel said, his voice cracking. Then he broke into a run. Kelly kept pace. He must have been in better shape, because when they reached the brightness of a streetlight, Nathaniel was already panting.

  “If you want a cab,” Kelly said, “you’re better off hailing it yourself. They tend to drive right past me, for some reason.”

  Nathaniel wasn’t taking any chances. He walked out in the middle of the street, forcing the next taxi to stop. It honked, but he already had his wallet out. He made sure cash was visible in his hand before he went around to the side of the vehicle.

  Kelly approached from the opposite side of the car and said something, but Nathaniel couldn’t hear his words over the stopped traffic, more horns blaring.

  “I have to go,” Nathaniel said, still struggling to catch his breath. “I’m sorry.” He got into the car and told the driver the destination. The man didn’t hesitate. Nathaniel looked through the back window as Kelly receded into the distance, his expression still bewildered. Then he took out his phone and started making calls, trying to find the quickest way home.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Nathaniel caught a last-minute flight, racing through the airport to reach a closing gate. Then he endured a grueling five hours in the air. The plane didn’t offer Wi-Fi, so he couldn’t use the time to find answers to his questions. Nor could he call Sheila for updates. All he could do was stare out the window and wait. The plane landed at one in the morning. With no luggage to claim, Nathaniel went straight to the airport lobby, the early hour making the space eerily quiet. Sheila was there, face red and swollen from crying. Nathaniel panicked. Was he too late?

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I should have called you right away, but everything happened so quickly and—”

  “Is he okay?” Nathaniel croaked. “He’s still alive?”

  “Of course! I didn’t make any decisions. You can see him immediately.” She led the way to the parking garage. “Let’s go. The emergency clinic is still open.”

  “Arthur?” Nathaniel asked.

  “He’s with Marcello. You said I should call him if I ever needed help. I couldn’t find a babysitter at the last minute, so…”

  Nathaniel tried to imagine Marcello taking care of a child, pictured Arthur wearing a pint-sized version of a suit and waving champagne around while telling droll anecdotes. Then he shook his head to clear the image. None of that mattered right now. Once in the car and on their way, he said, “Tell me everything. Go over it all again.”

  “I was in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner,” Sheila said, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Arthur came in and said Zero had fallen over. So I wasn’t there to see, but I guess they were playing when it happened. When I went to the other room to check—” She needed a moment to get her emotions under control. “He wasn’t moving. Don’t be shocked when you see him. The vet said that he’s stable, but he can only move one of his legs and his head a little. They don’t know what happened yet. Something with his spine or a blood clot in the brain. Maybe a stroke. The test results should be there when we get back. The vet wants you to prepare yourself for the worst. Just in case.”

  “No,” Nathaniel said, jaw clenching. “Not a chance in hell.”

  When they arrived at the veterinary clinic, they had to be buzzed in. This process seemed to take forever. Nathaniel was on the verge of smashing through one of the windows when they were finally granted access.

  “He’s resting,” said Julie, the vet assistant who greeted them, “but he’s doing okay.”

  That was reassuring. “Can I see him?”

  “Sure!”

  Julie led them down a hallway, past examination rooms, to an area normally reserved for staff. Through the door was a long room, the walls and floor made of concrete. On one side were smaller cages; to the right a row of cells, each with a gate made of chain-link fence. Zero was in one of these, lying on his side on a blanket too thin to provide much comfort.

  “I’m here,” Nathaniel said, pushing past the vet assistant.

  Zero whimpered in response, raising his head, but seemed too weak to keep it upright. The rest of his body remained still except for one of his front legs, which pawed at the air ineffectually. Nathaniel was on his knees, wanting to be brave, but he couldn’t help crying. He cradled Zero’s head in one arm, kissing his face and looking him over. He didn’t smell great, the fur near his hind legs wet with urine.

  “Did he have an accident?” Julie asked. “We’ll get him cleaned up. The good news is that he ate a little.”

  Nathaniel glanced to a nearby bowl that still contained a few pieces of kibble. “He has a food allergy.”

  “I mentioned that when I brought him in,” Sheila said. “I thought maybe he had a reaction.”

  “We only use the best possible food,” Julie assured them.

  Nathaniel knew from experience that no brand—no matter how pure or expensive—would fail to trigger Zero’s allergies. He clamped down on his irritation because what was happening now was more important. Zero was still moving the only leg he could, pawing at him or maybe trying to roll over or sit up. “Calm down,” Nathaniel whispered to him. “You’re going to be okay. I won’t leave you again, I swear.”

  “Julie?” a new voice said. “What’s going on here?”

  “Dr. Ward, this is Zero’s owner. He just flew in from New York.”

  Nathaniel turned to see an older man wearing a lab coat, his head topped with a puff of white hair. He didn’t offer a hand or any sort of condolences. Instead he seemed agitated.

  “Why aren’t they in an examination room?”

  “He came straight from the airport,” Julie said. “He wanted to see his dog.”

  “That’s fine, but we need to do this properly.” Dr. Ward addressed him. “Sir, if you could wait in reception, we’ll get him moved to a more comfortable environment where we can go over his test results.”

  Nathaniel looked down at Zero, who still had an eye locked on him. “I can carry him.”

  “We’ll manage, thank you.” Dr. Ward gestured to the door. “Please.”

  Nathaniel rose unwillingly. Julie walked with them to the front room, offering a sympathetic expression. “He’s new. Not to the occupation, but to the area.” She patted his arm and left them to wait.

  Nathaniel took a deep breath, then started pacing, fighting off another wave of emotion.

  “I’m sure the test results will tell us something,” Sheila said.

  She was wrong. When they were finally shown to one of the exam rooms, Zero was on the table. He reacted with as much excitement as he could muster. Nathaniel tried to calm him by holding the paw that kept moving around. His fur was wetter now and smelled better, having been washed.

  “Okay,” Dr. Ward said, consulting a chart. “We won’t have all the lab results until tomorrow. From what I’ve been able to collect, I feel we can rule out any sort of viral infection as the cause. The X-ray didn’t reveal any slipped discs in the spine, and I’m not seeing any tissue masses or inflamed nerves. A stroke is certainly possible, or a tumor in the brain. That would require an MRI to narrow down, but I don’t recommend it because of the expense.”

  “Money is no object,” Nathaniel said.

  “That’s refreshing to hear,” Dr. Ward said, “but even if the MRI revealed a tumor, the sym
ptoms I’m seeing suggest it would be near the brainstem. Surgery in that area is invasive and poses many risks. Radiation is a six-week ordeal, and with symptoms this advanced, I can’t guarantee results. I know it’s difficult, but in situations such as these, I advise owners to start thinking about the dog’s quality of life and what would be the most humane decision.”

  “Meaning?” Nathaniel pressed.

  “That if there aren’t any improvements in the next few days, putting him to sleep might be the most merciful choice.”

  Nathaniel’s throat felt tight. He started petting Zero, as if this was the last chance he had to do so. Tears were streaking down his cheeks again, but he wasn’t sobbing. The pain was too steady for it to shake him.

  “Let’s see how he does after a full day’s rest,” Dr. Ward suggested. “We’ll get the remaining test results, then we can talk.”

  Nathaniel nodded. “Can I take him home?”

  Dr. Ward took a deep breath. “I’d like to keep him here for observation.”

  “I won’t let him out of my sight,” Nathaniel said. “You have my word.”

  “He needs rest,” Dr. Ward said, still not convinced. “The office is closed during the day and will be quiet.”

  “My place is quiet. I’m taking him home.”

  Dr. Ward tapped one corner of his clipboard against the table absentmindedly. Then he nodded. “Okay. You’ll have to bring him back in tomorrow. I suppose you look strong enough to carry him around.”

  Nathaniel scooped Zero up. Sheila walked a few paces ahead, opening doors. When they reached her car, Nathaniel placed the dog in the backseat and got in beside him, keeping a hand on his silver fur during the drive, whispering words of comfort and encouragement. When they arrived back at the apartment complex, it was almost four in the morning. Nathaniel had no intention of sleeping, but he encouraged Sheila to do so.

  After they said goodbye, Nathaniel put Zero on the couch and went to the kitchen. He had loaded up the freezer before leaving for New York, but now it was getting low. He found a few chicken breasts that he defrosted and baked, keeping tabs on Zero as much as possible. When the food was ready, he cut it into tiny pieces and hand-fed it to the dog. Then he brought in a bowl of water and held Zero’s head steady while he lapped at it. That was a good sign. His appetite wasn’t as vivacious as usual, but it wasn’t gone completely.

  Yawning and weary, Nathaniel picked up the dog and carried him into the bedroom. Then he lay beside him, so they were facing each other. He tried to picture a world without this wonderful animal in his life, crying as he did so. Zero stared back, perhaps having similar thoughts. Someday they would have to leave each other. That was a sad fact. At times Nathaniel imagined he would die of grief after Zero passed away. That should be years from now. Not today. Not tomorrow.

  Zero closed his eyes, his breathing slowing. Nathaniel watched him carefully, making sure the dog was sleeping and nothing more permanent. Then he found himself drifting toward darkness, his body and mind exhausted.

  * * * * *

  He awoke to a paw swiping at him repeatedly, a high-pitched whine in his ear. Panic shot through Nathaniel, waking him instantly. Zero was in the same position that he had fallen asleep in, but his eyes were pleading as he whimpered.

  “What’s wrong?” Nathaniel asked. “Are you in pain?”

  Zero yawned, like he sometimes did when Nathaniel was being tiresome. Then he grumbled.

  “Potty?” Nathaniel asked.

  Another whine.

  He rose, slipped on his shoes, and struggled to carry the dog downstairs. When he reached the green lawn behind the apartment complex, he lowered Zero to the ground. His hind legs were useless, but Nathaniel rested him on his haunches, holding up the front of his body. Sure enough, Zero started peeing a few seconds later. What he hadn’t been prepared for was him needing to do more. That made a mess, and wasn’t very solid, probably thanks to the dog food he’d been fed at the clinic. That meant Nathaniel had to carry him back upstairs to clean him in the bathtub. He noticed it was nearly lunchtime, so after towel-drying the dog and putting him on the couch, Nathaniel scrounged around and came up with a meal.

  After they had both eaten, he decided some normalcy would be comforting. He put on a movie, draping Zero over his lap and petting him while it played. He didn’t really watch it as his mind entertained endless hopes and fears. Marcello called afterwards, offering his help, but the only thing any of them could do at this point was wait.

  He took Zero out for another bathroom break before loading him in the car. They were parked in front of the veterinary clinic an hour before it opened. He waited impatiently, getting out of the car when he saw Julie unlocking the front door.

  “How’s he doing?” she asked.

  “The same,” Nathaniel said. “Is that bad?”

  Her expression became strained. “It’s hard to say. These things take time. Let’s get him to one of the rooms so Dr. Ward can check him out.”

  The veterinarian was silent as he felt different parts of Zero’s body, examined his eyes, listened to his heart. Afterwards he shook his head and sighed. “The tests ruled out quite a few things, but unfortunately, they haven’t shown us what we’re dealing with. I’m still thinking a tumor. Or a stroke. Any increased movement?”

  “No,” Nathaniel said, grasping desperately for anything. “He was holding his head up pretty well while eating today. And he ate much more.”

  Dr. Ward didn’t seem impressed. “As I said yesterday, there are more tests we could run. Honestly, if this was my own dog, I would start preparing myself.”

  “You wouldn’t do further tests?”

  “The extent of his paralysis concerns me. A full recovery is unlikely, no matter the underlying reason. I want my animals to have the best quality of life. The decision is yours, but I would seriously consider euthanasia.”

  Nathaniel swallowed. Then he asked about the other tests, the procedures and the associated risks, his optimism fading with every detail. Zero would be injected and poked and prodded. He would be exposed to dose after dose of radiation and put on different medications, possibly for nothing, making the last few weeks of his life the most miserable. Nathaniel would rather he slip away peacefully.

  “Is it possible to have someone come to my—” He couldn’t quite get out the rest of the words, but the doctor understood.

  “There is a local service that can administer euthanasia at your home, yes. Would you like their contact information?”

  Nathaniel nodded, looking down at Zero and feeling like he had already betrayed his best friend.

  * * * * *

  When Nathaniel awoke the next day, he prayed for a miracle before opening his eyes. Wet licks on his cheek, or maybe Zero in a different room, chewing up one of his shoes. Instead he found the dog in the same position, whimpering and begging for help. He carried Zero to the yard, cleaned up any carelessness when they were done, and dug through a nearly empty freezer before remembering the lasagna Sheila had brought by yesterday.

  Zero ate first, then Nathaniel. Afterwards they sat on the couch, but he didn’t turn on the television. Instead he tried to decide how much longer he would let this go on before making an impossible decision. He was staring at the blank television screen when he heard a knock on the door. Sheila with more food, he hoped, because he wasn’t looking forward to eating lasagna three times in a row.

  Nathaniel rose to answer it. The moment he opened the door, something slammed into him. He knew the feel of that body, recognized the scent of his hair. Nathaniel sobbed and hugged him back. Kelly, in Texas, here in his arms.

  “I was on standby all day yesterday,” he was saying, “and ended up in Georgia in the middle of the night, but because of some idiot calling in a bomb threat, I missed my connecting flight and had to—”

  “Kelly,” Nathaniel interrupted. “Shut up.”

  “Shutting up,” Kelly said, still holding him. “How is he?”

  Nathaniel squee
zed before letting go. “Come see.”

  He walked down the hall, certain that Zero would be so excited to see Kelly that he’d forget he was sick, hop off the couch, and run right up to him. That didn’t happen, but he did bark once before launching into grumbling dog talk. Kelly went to him, kneeling in front of the couch and getting thoroughly licked.

  “Marcello filled me in on the details,” Kelly said, moving to sit next to the dog. He glanced around the apartment before looking to Nathaniel with concern. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” he admitted.

  “Do they know what’s wrong? Is there any sort of treatment?”

  Nathaniel couldn’t bring himself to say it, so he picked up the business card from the coffee table and gave it to Kelly. The words describing the service were gentle, but their meaning was clear.

  “No!” Kelly said.

  “I know,” Nathaniel responded, “but look at him. He hasn’t improved at all.”

  “Then you’ve already decided?”

  Nathaniel opened his mouth, but was unable to speak.

  Kelly appeared angry, but Nathaniel didn’t think it was directed at him. He’d felt plenty of anger in the last few days, hating the world for doing this to Zero. Mostly he just felt sad, which is what Kelly’s expression shifted to as he leaned over and rested his head against the dog.

  “We need to think of what’s best for him,” Nathaniel said.

  Kelly sighed and sat upright again. “What can I do to help?”

  “Nothing really. Maybe go to the store. Food is running low.”

  Kelly continued to stare at him. “You look a little rough.”

  “Oh.” Nathaniel tried smooshing down his hair. “I haven’t taken a shower since you last saw me. I didn’t want to leave him on his own.”

  “Go take one now,” Kelly said.

  Nathaniel hesitated. “He can’t potty without help. If he whines, I need to carry him downstairs.”

  “I can handle it. Or I’ll drag you out of the shower. Right now he looks pretty chill, so go get yourself cleaned up. I’ll watch him. I promise.”