by Ryan Horvath
“Can you?” Karen said weakly through her weeping.
“Of course I can, sweetie. As soon as we hang up, I’ll throw some things in a bag, get in the car and head for the airport. I’ll call my travel agent on the way so hopefully I can have a flight and ticket ready when I get there,” Amanda replied with genuine compassion for her sister in her voice. “Anything I can do to help you get through this I will do.” And again she said, “I’m so sorry.”
“I can’t do this alone,” Karen wept.
“I’m on my way big sister,” Amanda soothed. “You just rest until I get there.” Amanda was about to hang the phone up when a strange feeling she could not immediately identify washed over her, and she then said “Karen?”
Karen didn’t say anything but Amanda could still hear her diminishing sobs.
“Karen, have the police caught the assassin?” Amanda asked.
“No, no they haven’t,” Karen responded.
“Did you see him?” the younger sister continued.
“No, I didn’t see him. The police aren’t even sure it was a male. It started to rain pretty hard after… Jack was shot,” Karen’s sobbing re-intensified but then waned again. “And they couldn’t find any footprints anywhere. They said political assassins come in the male and female variety these days. But why would someone want to kill Jack? He’s a good man.”
Almost without realizing she was saying it, Amanda said, “I’m sure it was a male, and sure that he has blonde hair and sharp green eyes.” Amanda was looking off into space toward the wall in her home where her plasma television hung, currently unused, as if she was looking into the heart of a void.
“What?” Karen asked loudly, sobbing instantly cut off. “What did you say? Amanda? Amanda? AMANDA??”
Amanda dropped her gaze from the television and tuned back into the phone to hear her sister frantically calling her name. She winced as a small headache formed on the imaginary line connecting her temples.
“Yes Karen, I’m right here, you don’t have to shout.” Amanda spoke.
“What was that? What was that you just said?” Karen demanded.
“I asked if they caught the killer,” Amanda replied.
“No. After that. You said something about green eyes and being sure,” Karen pressed.
Amanda paused and furrowed her brow.
“Your voice got all quiet. Almost like you were trying to whisper or were giving an afterthought,” Karen stated.
Amanda sat in her easy chair and frowned. She vaguely remembered she had tuned out a moment ago but there couldn’t have been anything she had said. “Karen, you’re exhausted and stressed out. I’m sure you just imagined it.”
“I most certainly did not, little sister. You said…,” Karen started.
But Amanda cut Karen off. “Karen. I am going to hang up now and head to the airport. I’ll be in Virginia in a few hours and we’ll talk then but for now, please get some rest. You’ve got some rough days ahead of you.”
“But Amanda—,” Karen persisted.
Amanda overrode her again. “Karen! Rest. A few hours. I’ll take a cab from the airport.” And with that Amanda keyed the end call icon on her smart phone and plugged it into the USB charger.
She sat motionless in her easy chair for a moment gazing at the blank television screen. Had she said something to Karen? She had. Right? Amanda asked herself.
Amanda was always a level headed woman; never did any drugs and only drank at a celebration she would go to or on a bad blind date. Never before had she experienced a blackout in her life. However, she could remember the uneasy and almost absent feeling that came over her just before the slight headache came on. What had happened?
Amanda gazed at the television screen intensely as if waiting for the answer to come into tune like a bad television picture does after a storm passes. Nothing came.
After nearly a full minute, she brushed it off. She ran her hands over her straight brown hair as if smoothing her composure and then placed them on her knees. She rose from the easy chair and proceeded across the living room to the stairs where upstairs her bedroom and bathroom were located and she could pack for the trip.
Amanda stopped in the bathroom first to get some Advil for her tiny headache. Even though it was tiny, she did not want to it to bother her or get any worse if she was going to be flying. As she stood facing the bathroom mirror after washing down the pills she recalled what Karen had said she said about green eyes. That seemed familiar but she couldn’t place why.
Amanda packed up the few toiletries she figured she’d need for the trip and left the bathroom and crossed the hall to her bedroom. From the closet and bureau she took a few items for the trip: a pant suit for the funeral, two pairs of jeans, a couple t-shirts, a pullover sweater, bras, panties, and socks. She would wear her sneakers to travel but packed a pair of pumps for the funeral. When her bag was packed, she stood in the bedroom doorway and scanned the room briefly. She noted the silly teddy bear her last boyfriend had given her sitting on her bed. Even though she hated the guy now, she still loved the goofy bear. She paused on the music box on her dresser that her grandmother had given her for her sixteenth birthday. The box, when opened, chimed out a sweet verse of Canon in D by Pachelbel which, like her grandmother, was Amanda’s favorite classical music song. She reflected at the three photos on her bookshelf. One was of Karen and Jack’s wedding party, of which Amanda was the Maid of Honor. The second was Amanda’s graduation day from Colorado State showing her as the valedictorian. The third was an older photo showing her and Karen’s parents that was taken shortly after they were married. Though a simple portrait, Amanda has always loved how happy her parents appeared in this picture.
Amanda began to feel that she should be taking more of these sentimental keepsake items with her but dismissed the feeling as a fluke figment of her usually very stable imagination. She turned and walked down the hall, down the stairs and out the front door. As she paused to lock the door she seemed to feel something very final about it. Nevertheless, she got into her car which she had parked in the driveway earlier this morning and started the engine. She took her cell phone out of her jacket pocket and used the speed dial to contact her travel agent. Within minutes, she was booked on a direct flight to Dulles Airport that departed Denver International in just under two hours. She would make it with plenty of time. She thanked her agent and disconnected the call which had removed the thoughts she been having when she was packing and leaving. She turned up the volume for the stereo in her car and picked up KOSI out of Denver. They were playing “You gotta be” by Des’ree.
“Cool,” Amanda said to the empty car and began to sing along.
Amanda turned the stereo up and sang badly with Des’ree but neither woman minded. She backed her car onto Costilla Street and headed west toward Confluence Park where she would get on Interstate 25 and take that to Denver. Roughly an hour long drive. No sweat. She’d be in Virginia in time for dinner.
As Amanda drove down the street singing with forgotten thoughts of treasured possessions and green eyes, she had, in fact no idea that she would never see her treasured possessions again and, soon enough, she would come to meet the owner of the green eyes.
6
BLAZE
Blaze, the Dalmatian, lay on his stomach with his chin resting on the ground looking sad on Monday morning around 11:00 AM. The ground was cool underneath his short haired body and he didn’t like the appearance of the lines that were also hard and cold and prevented him from getting out of what appeared to him to be a box made of a hard shiny substance.
What had Master George called this shiny stuff?
Metal!!
Oh Boy, Oh Boy!! Scratch me behind the ears and give me a bone I got it right!!!
Blaze’s tail wagged slightly.
Unfortunately, when you are an animal stuck without a home in an animal control facility, a little tail wagging did nothing to improve your situation.
Blaze was stuck alright
. He was stuck in a cage.
Blaze thought I’ve spent all afternoon, night and morning here. Wonder where Master George and Master Ann are and if they are really dead instead of TV dead and when they’re going to come pick me up. I’m hungry and want some home kibble to quiet that bad feeling in my center part, er, stomach.
Blaze did not know what had happened to George and Ann Lewis yesterday but when he last saw them, he was unable to recognize them by their faces and instead knew it was them by their scents. Blaze had been outside yesterday morning for almost an hour before the bad smelling man came around.
Blaze had used that time wisely. Master Ann had told him when she opened the door for him to go out that he should enjoy his time now because it was supposed to rain harder later and he’d be stuck inside most of the rest of the day. And Blaze understood what Master Ann was telling him.
Just how Blaze understood, he did not know but he heard and comprehended Master Ann’s words to the fullest extent as if she were speaking to him in yips and barks instead of nouns and adjectives and Blaze wanted to be sure to get everything he wanted to do in the back yard today done before it started to rain harder. He wanted to, of course, re-mark some of his boundaries along the fence since it had been sprinkling. He wasn’t going to have any pesky intruders try to take the treats and scratch ears away from him. There was a gopher hole near the tree that sat in one of the corners of the fence. Blaze wanted to do some digging in that hole. And of course, since the grass was wet and there were some of the tree dressings falling already, there was some running and sliding to be done.
Doggie paradise.
Blaze didn’t know how or why he had come to be able to understand Master George and Master Ann so well but he did remember when and that was another strange thing. Blaze had never known or cared to know how old he was but lately he had a perception of time that he had never been aware of before and about a week ago, things started to get different for him. If you asked Blaze to describe it he would say:
Change. Funny Change.
Blaze woke up last week one morning with sore hurt on the thing behind what me sees stuff with. In layman’s terms, that’s a headache. Nothing major, but something Blaze had never experienced. He had been sleeping on his comfy home joy place on the floor at the foot of Masters’ bed. The Masters were still in bed.
Comfy home joy place. Master George is making that funny noise with his smeller part and Master Ann is quiet. Master George sometimes sounds like Bulldog that lives over across the big moving machines on black strip place. That sound is funny and makes my face sides go up and my backside wiggle.
As my sore behind what me sees stuff with takes me out of comfy home joy place I stand up and realize my tongue is dry and I am thirsty.
But then I think… what’s a tongue?
Oh Yeah!!! Gimme a bone, scratch my ears!! I got it!! It’s that thing that helps me put kibble in my center part.
Center part?
It’s called a stomach silly. And you actually put food in your mouth, then it goes in your stomach.
I stood halfway between what I know now as the kitchen and bedroom and cocked my head in amazement. I think if Masters had seen me they would have thought I was looking at a ghost and contrary to popular belief, I as a dog, have never seen a ghost. Neither has any other dog I’ve ever yipped and barked to.
So, after getting my flappy thing… er… tongue some wet stuff, I mean, water, I stood looking around the kitchen which I then simply knew as the “food” place. Before this strange comprehension of the way Masters speak took place, I only knew a few of their words: food, play, outside, bone, scratch ears, down, sit, leash, walk. And in less than a week, I would somehow easily master their language. They didn’t realize I was learning but I listened to every word they said. On the third day after this started, I was able to get Master George to take me for a walk when I saw Bulldog pacing his yard. I carried leash to him and did sit and looked patiently. Master George did scratch ears and agreed to take me for a walk down what I’ve learned is called “road.”
I was excited to yip and bark to Bulldog and to see if he could understand his Master talk any. He met me at the end of his road like usual. I yipped and barked him my greeting and he took a couple steps back, woofed sharply once and then growled fiercely in my direction. Master George pulled me away quickly. Apparently I still understood yip and bark because the woof that bulldog gave me meant “stay away.”
Two days later, this was Friday, I had a pretty strong grasp of Master talk. Master George and Master Ann liked to watch a lot of television in the evening and, through a series of yips and barks, I was able to get them to leave television on for me when they were not home and I learned.
I even learned how to work remote control! It wasn’t hard. I just watched Masters and I learned. I also learned how to open the cold food box for a Master snack. And I learned that I could only take a little at a time so Masters didn’t figure out my trick. Hee-Hee. Oh happy joy ear scratching bliss!
Then on Saturday, I got Master Ann to put leash on and walk and we walked by Bulldog place. He was out and leered at me. I yipped and barked a pleading reply and he cocked his head at me. Master Ann had stopped to watch this play out but still held me tight at safe distance. Bulldog made a series of yips and barks:
Woof…woof-woof-woof… ruff-woof-huff… woof-ruff.
I stopped pulling so tightly on leash and stared at Bulldog.
After almost a week, I still understood yips and barks like I had always before. He had said “Blaze yip and bark… funny change… you different… no like.”
I was so distraught, I lowered my head and tugged leash and Master Ann back toward home. I just wanted to curl up in comfy home joy place and do sleep.
Master Ann asked me what was wrong. I looked at her solemnly and then turned and tugged adamantly at leash until she agreed to follow me home. I spent most of the rest of the day moping in comfy home joy place.
Bulldog wouldn’t play with me now so probably no other dogs would play at park if I go.
Sad, sad, sad.
Need an ear scratch.
I know Master talk but they don’t know yip and bark.
Sad, sad, sad.
Other dogs won’t like me.
After repeating this cycle and some other cycles as well, I cocked my head up from comfy home joy place.
I realized that I should try to tell Master Ann and Master George what I have learned. Well, except for the refrigerator trick that is.
How can I do that?
What if they get mad like Bulldog??
HUH!!
What if they don’t like me?? Will they stop feeding me???
Master George has seen that I am agitated and is doing scratch ears and telling me “calm down Blaze boy, calm down” and I do.
There is a wonderful gentleness in his touch. Master George puts his brow to my brow so we are looking into each other’s eyes. I can see deep into his eyes and there is a genuine compassion and warmth and affection displayed there as he holds heads with me. He has never done this before with me. He tells me:
“Blazy, boy, somethin’ big’s ‘bout to happen. I can’t say when, and I can’t say what and I can’t say how but I feel it.” He paused for a minute, then added, “You’re a real special pooch. God was kind to you by not makin’ you deaf and lettin’ you have those eyes.”
I cock my head and he looks at me curiously, as if he can see that I understand his every word, even though I did not know what that statement meant. He spoke again.
“Aww hell, you don’t know what the heck I’m sayin’ anyway do you, boy?”
I broke the brow touching and I quickly stood erect in comfy home joy place with my forepaws on Master George’s legs, my head cocked, my ears perked forward and my tail wagging and barked.
Yes I do! I understand!
Master George looked curiously at me again and then smiled. He did more scratch ears, called me a silly boy, patted me on the head
and then stood and walked away.
He almost understood that I understood him.
That means I could try to do it again.
What’s a better way?
The computer!
I can use a straw to punch out the letters.
That black caption thing on the television taught me how to spell good enough.
Oh but darn darn darn.
Master George had just come in because he and Master Ann were getting ready to get into their comfy home joy place. He reentered the bedroom with her now and they walked together to the bathroom that was off the bedroom. I wouldn’t be able to get them interested enough to figure out that I wanted them to turn on the computer so I could type them a message at this time of night so I would have to wait until tomorrow and I knew that any time they had two days where they could stay in comfy home joy place after the outside light came up that they would and they would stay in late. And I heard them talking about the other food place when they made food tonight. They were going to other food place tomorrow after comfy home joy place.
They would let me outside for play while they go to food place so I could wait until after they get back and I can show them what a smart dog Blaze is. I know Masters will be so happy and surprised.
I flopped back down into comfy home joy place just as Master George and Master Ann did and I did sleep with a smile on my mouth.
So, when Ann Lewis let Blaze out to play and do his errands Sunday morning after she woke, Blaze darted into the yard with doglike enthusiasm.
Ann closed the door behind him with a smile and turned to tend to getting herself ready to go to brunch and the grocery store with George. She made a pot of coffee and showered, woke George and dressed while he showered. She went back downstairs and poured herself a cup of coffee.
As she stood peering out the kitchen window at Blaze running around in the back yard she heard what sounded like a soft puffing sound, then George grunting, then a thump. She turned and called his name. There was no response. Slowly, Ann proceeded across the kitchen and when she reached the other side she was faced with a man with sharp green eyes standing in her hallway holding a gun pointed at her. She could see George’s arm at the bottom of the stairs.
