“We will do whatever we need to do. Hey, big boy, sure miss you.” She popped the cage door open and leaned forward, stretching her fingers out to touch the tip of his nose. A pink tongue kissed her. “Oh, Valiant, that name sure fits you.”
Garret smiled. “That it does. If you have no more questions, I’ll be back in a while, but I need to go feed my own herd.”
“Thanks.”
Garret headed for the back door before someone could grab him. He stopped at the Bagelry, ordering four shots of espresso in his twenty-ounce tall one. He’d be so keyed up he needn’t worry about sleep for the rest of the day. It was tonight that caused him concern.
His message unit was flashing when he walked through the door to be greeted by dogs, cat, a raucous parrot crying “Help me, help me!” and the phone ringing. He petted the dogs, let the cat twine around his legs, and yelled “Quiet!” at the parrot. The phone went to the answering machine. A woman’s voice caught his attention.
“Hi, this is Elizabeth Grayson, my aunt Jane introduced us at church on Sunday. I have a favor to ask. I need to bring an escort to a company do on Saturday evening. Sorry to be asking on such a late notice, but I guess I am hoping it can work. It won’t be a late evening, and I will be eternally in your debt. Sometimes one just has to still the gossips.” She left her number and repeated it.
Saturday night after Friday night on urgent care. Probably not. At the rate he was going, he wouldn’t get any sleep until Sunday. He’d have to stand up in church to stay awake. Unless it was slow in urgent care. Could he be so lucky? He’d call her back later.
He fed all his varied housemates, got cleaned up, and was back in the car in less than an hour, leaving forlorn friends staring after him. Apologies were not sufficient. Guilt settled as he drove back to the clinic.
He spoke Elizabeth’s number into the built-in car phone and got an answering machine. “This is Garret. I’m sorry, Elizabeth, but I have the urgent-care shift tonight and by Saturday night will be asleep on my feet. Wish I could help you. Perhaps another time?”
Did he mean it when he said perhaps another time, or was he being polite? She had said she had a boyfriend. But then why would she have asked him to—what had she said? Still the gossips? He was saved from having to answer by a car swerving in front of him so close it almost clipped his bumper. “You idiot! What were you thinking?” He’d not even had time to hit the brakes or the horn. The adrenaline was still rushing when he entered the rear door of the clinic, so he fit right in. A dog and cat had gotten loose in the waiting room and tore around it, terrorizing the other animals and infuriating their owners. The cacophony echoed clear to the back parking lot.
Jason was trying to catch the cat as Garret entered. Garret stuck out his foot as the dog came racing past, but instead of blocking him, the little border collie tripped and went butt-over-tincups and Jason grabbed him, held him down. The cat, a huge fat Persian, cowered on top of the air conditioner unit. Garret got hold of the cat and dragged it toward him, until he could seize the scruff of its nape. He announced to the room in general, “This is why cats have to be in a carrier. If someone comes in carrying an unrestrained animal, the animal and owner will be sent back outside.”
Jason indeed looked contrite. “Sorry, this one snuck up on me. That Persian sure could leap. I thought it was too fat to be very active.”
“They can fool you, all right.” Garret made his way around the room, apologizing and setting things to rights again. All the time his mind wanted to play with drawing the mayhem that had ensued. What a poster that would make. Twenty reasons why cats had to be carrier-bound. Even if the carrier had to be wheeled in. Files had gone flying, and Amber had scratches on her arm from when the cat used her as a leaping post to bound up and across the tops of the file cabinets.
“I hope you charge her double or triple,” she muttered.
“The thought entered my mind, too.” Leaving the others to put the mess to rights, he picked the file off the rack by the door and entered a treatment room.
Things slowed down enough that he could leave at three, promising to be back. He didn’t just sleep, he dropped into an abyss. The alarm had to go into its urgent mode to get him up in time to return by seven.
Slow nights were worse than busy ones. He let Jason sleep a couple of hours and then he did the same. They had two phone calls and two drop-ins. Not exactly the kind of night that paid the bills, but the last couple of days had compensated for that.
The regular cage cleaners, Beanpole and his helper, Lenny, showed up at six in the morning. Beanpole, almost six feet tall, weighed maybe a hundred and twenty pounds if he let his hair grow, and his buddy Lenny, a short, dumpy guy from AA, was so far winning his fight with the bottle. Mutt and Jeff. And Mutt made Garret think of that Taylor woman and her charges. He tried to chase the mental image of those eyes back to wherever it came from; it wouldn’t chase.
Garret checked Valiant one more time and headed home. The ringing phone dragged him from sleep only an hour later.
“Dr. G!” Beanpole. “Valiant is convulsing.”
“Is Sue there?”
“Yes, she said to call you.”
“I’ll be right there.” The panic in his helper’s voice jerked Garret from his bed and into clothes. “Please, Lord, please, Lord” was all he could think or say. “Please Lord!” But he was fine when I left. What brought this on? Help me, Lord. Wisdom needed here. Thank You.
He broke a few speed limits and ground a few millimeters off his tires screeching to a halt in the back parking lot. He ran to the open door of the cage room. dropped to his knees beside the now comatose animal. “What did you give him?” He nodded as Sue answered. “How long did it last?”
Beanpole was still shaking. “Seemed forever.”
“I know, they do, but…”
“Maybe a minute. I wasn’t in here when it started.”
“Was anyone?” While he questioned, he listened to lungs and heart. Rapid, shallow breathing, heart going at high speed.
“I was in feeding the boarded animals and I came back in here and he was thrashing around and then he went rigid and I thought he died.” Beanpole stumbled over his words in his panic.
Sue knelt beside him. “I came in about that time, and he was like he is now. Twitching once in a while. I checked him over, made sure the IV was all right. Amazing that he didn’t dislodge that.”
“Has Tessa been in this morning?”
“No, not yet.”
“Has she ever reported anything like this?”
“Not that I know of, and I think we’re the only vets she uses. You think the injury could have caused this?”
“Most likely. We should start easing him off the sedative.” He lurched back to his feet.
“I say blood work, see if something is going on. He’s running a low-grade temp, but that’s not surprising with the trauma.” She stood up. “When do you plan to cast him? Or should we?”
“We should. I’m not sure when.”
Karen, the Saturday version of Amber, knocked at the closed door. “Tessa’s here. Can she come in?”
“Of course.”
“I’ll see to the next patients.” Sue greeted Tessa on her way out.
“I thought this was your day off, Dr. G.” Tessa wheeled to a stop beside him. She turned instantly from cheer to concern; he’d thought he was controlling his face, but apparently not. “Did something happen?”
“Yes, Valiant had a seizure. No idea why, but we’re looking into it.” He shot her what was supposed to be a reassuring smile. But the look she gave him shouted her disbelief.
He asked, “Has he ever had a seizure before?”
“Nope, never. That would end his life as a service dog instantly.”
“I know. But it might have been from the injury. Only time will tell.”
“I have some things to show you.” She dug into her bag and pulled out a torn piece of sweatshirt. “My friend, Gloria, saw this snagged on her sid
e of the fence. And we found this on the back deck.” She gestured toward a tool bag in her lap.
He took the sack and peered inside. “Tools? Was someone there to work for you?”
“No, I think someone was there to break in and Valiant chased him off. I have a feeling that someone was in an emergency room somewhere being treated as a dog-bite victim that day.” She glared at the tools. “I used the term ‘victim’ lightly. He obviously did not know a service dog lived in the house. Or maybe he was breaking and entering randomly and this time he made a huge mistake.”
“I have a friend over at the ER. I’ll call him. Getting to the bottom of this might get real interesting.”
“If only it could help Valiant.” She choked on his name. “He almost gave his life to protect me.” She shook her head, then raised tear-filled eyes to Garret. “You gotta be able to help him.”
“What if he can’t be your service dog any longer?”
“We’ll have to cross that bridge when or if we come to it, won’t we?”
“Have you filed a police report yet?”
“No, we just found these this morning. I’d not been out on the patio. But I guess I should, huh?”
“Ask the receptionist out front to call the police for you and tell them you want to report an attempted break-in.” Garret smothered a yawn. Did it make any sense to go home and try to sleep, or just keep on here?
He opted for the latter. Kneeling beside Valiant, he drew a blood sample and left Tessa alone with her dog. Since they closed early on Saturdays, he let the others close up and headed home again, mulling over the new installment in the Valiant chronicles.
Since curiosity was not only a trait of his but a dire need, he dialed Arthur’s cell. The two of them attended the same Bible Study on Sunday mornings and had been part of the after-service lunch group for the past three years.
A grumpy voice. “This better be good, I’m supposedly sleeping.”
“Sorry, Art. I can call back later. This is Garret.”
“I know, I have caller ID. What’s up?”
Since Arthur was head nurse at the ER, Garret paused. “I have a story to tell.”
“Pertinent to…”
“A question first. Did anyone treat a dog bite a couple days ago?”
“I did. Why?”
Garret told him the story. “Did you check for a rap sheet?”
“About half a mile long, but nothing that cost him any time longer than thirty days. Let me think a minute. His story was that a pit bull ran out of a yard and attacked him when he was just walking down the street. “Took a bunch of stitches, but no real muscle or nerve damage. I’m sure he was shaking hands with delirium tremens as some buddy hustled him out of there.”
“I told Tessa, the dog’s owner, to file a report. You get an address or contact info?”
“Of course, but it’s most likely bogus. I made sure the tetanus shot made him yelp. Not that I’m vindictive or anything. The police will be able to locate him, I’m sure.” He yawned. “Sorry, friend, but I need to get some more shut-eye. I have the midnight shift tonight. Saturday night in the big city. A true adrenaline junkie’s picnic.”
Garret thanked him and hung up. Too many coincidences. God at work for sure. Now if he would just heal that dog without any hitches. Hadn’t the poor beast been through enough?
Chapter Fifteen
The new twin-size bed in Dinah’s home office definitely cramped her space. So should she move her office out to the living room or into her bedroom? Pros and cons to either plan kept her dithering. The new chest of drawers, larger than Jonah’s old one, would be delivered later in the week. She and Jonah fixed the bed after she washed the bedding, the blue plaid comforter one he picked out. She was fairly certain his choice of blue followed the Royals. She stood in the doorway. A bookcase, he definitely needed a bookcase. A desk?
“Jonah, would having a desk where you could do your homework be a help?”
“Why? What’s wrong with this table in the kitchen? Besides, I don’t have a lot of homework. I get most of it done at school.” He glanced up from the drawing he was working on, Mutt with all her shaving and stitches. In all his pictures, she had one ear up and one flopped half over.
Did second-graders even have homework?
“Mommy always listened to me with math and spelling.” He tapped the eraser of his pencil on his front teeth. “I have flashcards.” He went back to his drawing.
Dinah moved some of her summer clothes that hung in the office closet into her own room and laid them on the bed. How could one little boy have so little? She thought of other families she knew. The children had all kinds of toys and computer games and bicycles and skate boards and—she shook her head.
All he had packed in his duffle bag was that stuffed bear. Once it had been a Royals franchise toy, with a snazzy blue Royals vest. Now the vest was faded, one eye and some fur were missing, and its arms were loose, attached by not much more than a thread. He also had his paper, pencils and erasers, a few clothes, a children’s Bible. He traveled light.
He set the bear against his pillow and the Bible next to the pillow. The duffle sat on the closet floor, a lonely tribute to his former life now that she had removed the shoe boxes, too. They were stacked in a corner of her bedroom. Looked to be about time to go through her own things and get rid of all she didn’t use. She’d been meaning to for some time, but that other closet had made storing things far too easy.
She wandered back into the kitchen. “What would you like for supper?”
He shrugged. “Sometimes me and Mommy had popcorn on Saturday nights and watched a movie on the TV. Mommy and I.”
“Do you own any movies?”
He shook his head. “Sometimes people at church gave us movies and we used to get them from the library, but Mommy wouldn’t let me go to the library by myself after she got too sick for us to take the bus. We took the bus to church, too.”
Church. Would he expect to go to church on Sundays? Tomorrow was Sunday. Perhaps if she didn’t mention it. Mutt went to stand at the door and, when no one paid her any attention, did a two-tone yip.
“Mutt has to go out. I can go by myself.”
“I’d rather you didn’t after dark.”
“It’s not all the way dark yet.”
She was quickly learning that with Jonah things were either dark or not dark. No gray areas. “You are right, but for now, I need to go with you. Where would you go if you needed help?”
“Mr. Watson. He likes the Royals, too—did you see his hat?”
“He wears that all the time.” She figured it was because he didn’t like being shiny on top, but to each his own. So why didn’t he like Cleveland or Cincinnati teams? For that matter, why did Jonah’s father like the Royals if they lived here in west-central Ohio? Mysteries.
Together they went out the door and down the stairs, Dinah letting Jonah lead the way and open the doors. Yes, he could manage.
“Remember that after dark the door here is locked, so you must have the key along.”
He pulled the key out of his pocket and held it up. She had forgotten about the key until just now.
“What would you do if you lost the key?”
“And the door was locked and we were outside?”
“Yes.”
“We would walk around the building and into the front door and Mr. Watson would say, ‘What, did you lose the key already?’”
Dinah about choked. Jonah sounded so much like the manager, even to the slightly Minnesota accent. “You’re right. That is most likely what he’d say.” She studied him. “How did you learn to do that?”
“Do what?”
“Mimic someone like that?”
He shrugged. “It made Mommy laugh.” He pulled open the rear door and he and Mutt walked a little way outside.
Dinah could hear him talking to his dog and within moments they reappeared, he carrying a plastic bag that he dropped in the garbage can by the door. One more t
hing she’d not considered: cleaning up dog poop. But obviously to Jonah this was part of owning a dog. Were all kids his age this responsible? She knew too many families where this was not the case. Jonah had had to grow up so soon to help take care of his mother.
“We need more dog food tomorrow,” he announced after fixing Mutt’s supper. “We have enough for breakfast.”
“Okay, we’ll go find a pet store in the morning.”
“After church?”
Stall, Dinah, stall. “Where do you go to church?”
“Since Mommy couldn’t go anymore, I went with Grammy Trudy and Claire. We took the bus.”
“Do you know the name of the church?”
He frowned. “Something Community Church. I can’t remember the whole name.”
“How about we skip tomorrow and we’ll call Trudy next week and ask her.”
He studied her, his dark eyes intent. “You don’t go to church?”
She shook her head.
“Then how do you know that Jesus loves you?”
He doesn’t. He isn’t real. But she couldn’t dump her whole life on him. “What would you like for supper? We have tomato soup with grilled cheese sandwiches or macaroni and cheese in the freezer or—”
“No popcorn?”
“Sorry.”
“Fried cheese sandwiches with no soup.”
“You have a deal. And I think there is ice cream in the freezer, too. I’m not sure.”
“How come you don’t know?”
“Things get behind other things and I forget to look harder.” She had to clamp her teeth on the next thought. Clearly, Jonah and his mother had not had enough groceries at one time not to know everything there was. How long had they been living in that kind of poverty? Would Mr. Jensen have answers to some of her myriad questions?
Heaven Sent Rain Page 12
