The Healer

by Kevin Hensley

  What are they going to do to him? Is he even still alive?

  A couple of athletes passed by her table. One of them caught sight of her and slowed his pace.

  “Hey,” he said with a devious grin, “can I sit with you?”

  “No,” she replied without looking up. “Sorry.”

  He went on his way. A delayed feeling of puzzlement set in. People rarely approached her, except Snapper. That was a factor in her initial interest in him, for sure.

  Oh, that’s right. My scars are gone.

  She touched her cheek, wondering if others would want to speak with her more often now that her face was no longer a reminder that the world was not as safe as they liked to think. She had never blamed them or thought them shallow. That was just the way it was.

  The chair next to her slid away from the table.

  “Look, I’m flattered. But I’ve got a headache and I really would like to be…” She looked up. It wasn’t the athlete. Her spirits rose in relief, then plunged into anger.

  “What were you thinking?” she demanded. “I’ve been up all night worrying about you! Did you know they had dogs walk me back to school? Do you have any idea how…”

  She couldn’t help but trail off. Snapper gazed at her with cloudy eyes that didn’t quite focus. It wasn’t even his demeanor that disturbed her the most. It was the fact that he’d been able to sneak up on her like that. Normally she picked up emotional cues before someone got that close. But there was… nothing. He was utterly blank.

  “What have they done to you?”

  “Vexylam, fifty milligrams, three times a day, to stabilize the mood and get rid of those criminal urges,” he droned. “Dopemol, twenty-five milligrams in the evening for insomnia and nightmares.”

  She shook her head. “Great. You can’t go to class like that.”

  The corner of his mouth crawled up. “It’s the only thing I can do, actually.”

  “Oh really? Caper is pretty upset, I imagine.”

  “He wanted to strangle me.”

  “I bet. I tried not to let him see that you healed me. But those dogs dragged me straight to his office and threw a court paper in his face.”

  “It’s alright. We couldn’t have hidden that for long.”

  “True. What are you going to do now?”

  “Well, I came to apologize for scaring you. After I was arrested, you were all I could think about.”

  Dreamer blinked. “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, apology accepted.”

  “I can’t go back to the city for a while. But I would sure like to spend more time with you.”

  Dreamer fidgeted with her coffee mug, suddenly nervous. “We’ll have to see.”

  “That’s fair.”

  “And you owe me. Answers. I get to learn all the great secrets of Snapper, the only other sheep with magic powers around here.”

  “I already showed you the most important secret, so that’s no big deal. Tomorrow’s Friday. Want to hang out and do homework in the evening?”

  “If you tell me a secret now.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like why you go by a fake name.”

  Her words jarred him out of his haze so fast that she wanted to laugh. Snapper blinked rapidly and focused on her. “What?”

  “I said, why the alias?”

  He took a deep breath. “It’s not really an alias. My dad legally changed my name. And his. He did that as a way of throwing off his old identity and telling the pigs that we’d be making an effort to fit in.”

  “He changed your name to Snapper? After the fish? Or is it because of your temper?”

  Snapper rolled his eyes. “It was the old man’s idea of being clever. He called himself the Old-Timer and me the Whipper-Snapper. Just a goofy nickname that stuck.” He rubbed his face. “I guess you’re going to ask for my original name now.”

  “I already know what it is.”

  “Oh. Right.” Snapper sat back. “Satisfied?”

  “Very.” Dreamer finished her mug. “Well, I’m out of here. Are you going to your afternoon class?”

  “As if I have anything better to do.”

  Chapter 50

  “Dude… Snapper! Can you try?” a thickheaded sheep called across the playing field.

  From the top of the ivy-covered stone wall around the school courtyard, Caper and Boxer watched a disaster of a practice game unfolding.

  Two teams of sheep ran back and forth across the makeshift field, using their heads and hooves to knock a ball around. Fresh off his evening medication, Snapper fumbled a pass and unsteadily ran after the ball rolling out of bounds.

  “Something isn’t working here,” Caper muttered. “Old-Timer had a gift for keeping this boy under control. What am I missing?”

  “It’s like I told you before,” Boxer replied. “Everyone needs a place. Somewhere in this world, there’s a role this kid can fill where he will actually succeed instead of being stonewalled by you and me and his father and the pigs at every turn. This is a start. Give it some time.”

  Snapper finally brought the ball back into the playing area. The frustrated sheep was there to snatch it from him.

  “Give me that. Swifter, this new guy sucks.”

  “Shut up, Dorper. Like you’ve ever caught a ball with anything but your lip.”

  “Keep it up, Swifter, and next time I’ll put you in the hospital for real.”

  Swifter crossed to the line from midfield in a flash and threw the thickheaded sheep a shove. Dorper retaliated, but Snapper caught him and dragged him down. Swifter’s next hit knocked Dorper off his feet. The rest of the players reached the brawl and either piled on or tried to pull the fighters apart.

  “Stay down!” Swifter yelled.

  Caper sank against the stone ledge and covered his face with a wing. Boxer leaned forward with interest, a grin forming on his saggy face.

  “Let me borrow him Saturday morning,” he said. “I have an idea.”

  Chapter 51

  Snapper jumped back and ducked to avoid the teeth of the brown and black dog coming at him. Already exhausted, he tried to ignore the sweat in his eyes. His shoulders and ribs ached where the dog had previously struck him. His hooves struggled to find traction on the soft floor. He was not going to last.

  He lashed out with his forehead. The dog casually slipped the awkward blow. Teeth closed on the fleece on Snapper’s back.

  He was lifted and slammed on his side on the canvas mat. The air left his lungs in a burst. The dog lowered his head and placed his jaws around the young sheep’s throat.

  “Yield.” Snapper coughed.

  The big dog lifted his head, spat a mouthful of fleece onto the mat, and cocked an eyebrow. “Getting tired?”

  Snapper rolled over and stood up with effort. He hated how much this medication slowed him down. But he refused to make excuses. “I just misstepped.”

  Boxer walked up to them. “Looking good, Snapper. Stay on your feet. The dog who ends up on his back dies.” He waved a paw. “Let’s switch out. Berger and me. You go get some water.”

  Snapper nodded and stepped away as Boxer began to grapple with the big, long-haired dog. He made his way across the Tooth & Claw gymnasium to the water fountain in the corner. He took a drink and ran some water over the top of his head, letting it roll down his face and the back of his neck.

  He sat at the edge of the mat to watch. Boxer was more than a match for the heavyset Berger, but he moved slowly so the older dog could keep up. Nearby, Swifter happily ran circles around a tall, imposing Great Dane named Ledger.

  Other dogs rolled around on the mat or watched from the sidelines. All of them wore leather collars with a round token stamped with a T&C insignia.

  As Snapper watched, Ledger gave up and excused himself from the mat. A speckled greyhound eagerly took his place.

  “You’re pretty fast, kid,” the Dane said to Swifter, “but you haven’t met Tuxer here. Good luck.”

 
; The greyhound caught and pinned Swifter without effort, making Snapper chuckle to himself. For the first time since the harrowing events of Wednesday night, he felt at ease. He liked this place.

  Berger collapsed next to him at the edge of the mat. “Your turn,” he gasped. “I’m getting too old for this.”

  Snapper tapped the long-haired dog on the shoulder as he got up. He stood across from Boxer, feeling the drug-induced haze clearing up a little.

  Boxer advanced, Snapper defended. They collided shoulder to shoulder. Snapper let out an involuntary oof. It was like trying to tackle a concrete pillar.

  The dog took hold of the back of Snapper’s neck with one forepaw and locked him in close. He turned his head and Snapper braced for the inevitable painful, but not lethal, bite.

  “How are our friends doing?” Boxer whispered.

  Snapper blinked. Caught off guard, he nearly let Boxer push him over. He regained his footing and pushed back. “I haven’t been to see them since Wednesday morning. They seemed alright.”

  Keeping up appearances, Boxer moved to get a better hold. “It’s driving me crazy. I give them newspapers, but I haven’t dared to spend any time in that room. The noses on these guys… if they smell Mauler on me, the game’s up.”

  Snapper was thrown over on his back. He took a quick look around. “Would they report you to the General?”

  “Absolutely not. These men are all one hundred percent loyal to me. They think I should be in charge. But the less they know, the better. I don’t want them to get in trouble should Mauler be discovered. They’ve all got lives and families. Ledger is just an accountant. Berger guards the quarry train. These guys aren’t revolutionaries.”

  Boxer went for a submission hold. Snapper escaped. Boxer hesitated, leaving an opening, as was his teaching method. Snapper saw it and took advantage, ending up on Boxer’s back with a foreleg around his throat.

  “Caper told me dogs are loyal to the top fighter,” he whispered.

  “We are. General Pincher has sort of thrown a wrench in that otherwise simple dynamic. By the way, the fact I am still talking means you’re not doing the choke properly. Keep trying. Stay here after the lesson and we’ll continue this conversation.” Boxer caught Snapper’s attacking leg and rolled over, slamming Snapper face-first into the mat.

  Chapter 52

  After bidding goodbye to Swifter and the dogs, Snapper sat alone on the mat. Boxer locked all the doors and joined him.

  “As I was saying,” Boxer said, “Pincher rarely fights at the HoundBlood tournament anymore. The pigs keep him in power anyway.” Boxer hesitated. A look of sorrow crossed his face. “He was a good friend and a great warrior once. Now he’s corrupted. They pay him to lead the dogs the way they want. Some dogs see that for the nonsense it is and give their loyalty to the one they consider the true strongest fighter. You just met most of them.”

  Snapper stretched his aching body. “Caper said the pigs had to win the dogs’ loyalty by force in the first place. Wasn’t that enough? Why do they need to pay Pincher?”

  Boxer lay on the mat, his face turning dark. “It’s not just about doing what they say. It’s about keeping quiet about certain things and embellishing other things. Like the juggernaut.”

  Snapper blinked. “The what?”

  “Caper is a smart man, but he has a narrative he’s comfortable with. He likes to tell his students it was the superior technology of the pigs that won the Canine-Avian War. Not wrong, but not the whole story either. He wasn’t in the trenches for the final battle. He was in a lab somewhere. He never met the monster pig.”

  Snapper’s face went pale. “My dad never mentioned that.”

  “He wasn’t in the thick of it either. His wounded leg finally took him out of the battle right before the end.” Boxer’s ears drooped. “Did he tell you I was the one who did that to him?”

  “No. He only ever spoke highly of you.”

  “I’m still surprised he forgave me at all. Anyway, among the old veterans that are still around, I’m pretty sure only my students here and I saw this thing in person. Maybe Shiver the ram too. It came out right as the unified dog and bird forces were making their final push here in the fields. Big, fat pig. We couldn’t hurt it. Some birds even hijacked one of the pigs’ rockets and hit this beast with it—nothing. It tore through our lines like a pup playing with blocks. Even Pincher couldn’t hold it back.”

  “Was that the end of the War?”

  “Oh, yes. They pay Pincher very well to refuse to confirm or deny its existence. But the juggernaut has made it into dog lore. Something of a bogeyman we tell our pups about to scare them into behaving. We’re not supposed to discuss it, but I’ll never forget it.”

  “Green eyes?”

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  Snapper gulped. “That’s what I saw the night my father died. Unless my eyes were playing tricks on me. I was pretty upset and scared.”

  “Well, no one’s seen or heard from that monster pig since the end of the War. I couldn’t tell you one way or another.”

  Snapper looked at the door. “One more question. What do you know about the pig in charge of the quarry?”

  “Scurvert? Not much. Total sadist. Attacks children. That’s all. I’ve never met him in person. You think he murdered Old-Timer?”

  Snapper chose his next words carefully, not wanting to talk too much about Dreamer. “Yeah, I think so. Could he be the juggernaut? Your description and what I saw that night line up with things I’ve heard about Scurvert.”

  Boxer’s eyes darkened. “Well, he couldn’t really be the monster pig. I know for a fact Scurvert can bleed. I bet he acts like he’s the monster, or at least tries to invoke that reputation to keep up the climate of fear. I know the dogs working the quarry are dead terrified of him.” He scratched behind his ear and made a visible effort to cheer up. “All this talk is making me miss the old ram. Let’s go see how our friends downstairs are doing.”

  “Are you serious? Caper said…”

  “What can happen? I’ll be there supervising you.” Boxer picked up a newspaper from the floor, walked over to the wall, and pushed on an innocuous brick. A secret door slid open. “Come on, it’ll do us all some good.”

  Chapter 53

  “Hello, Snapper. Hello, First Officer Boxer. Welcome.” Ponder’s voice chimed in Snapper’s ears like a soft bell.

  The sheep approached the scarlet wooden figure in the corner. “It sure is good to see you.”

  Boxer set the newspaper on the little table and excused himself from the room. Mauler, curled up on the bed, regarded Snapper with his blank look. “Three papers.”

  “What’s that, buddy?”

  Mauler counted off. “You visited. Then you were gone for one, two, now three newspapers.”

  Ponder chuckled. “That is how he keeps track of time.”

  “It has been a few days,” Snapper agreed.

  “You said you were going on a date with the girl. You never came back.”

  “Mauler.”

  Snapper’s chest ached as he laughed. “No, he’s absolutely right. I should be seeing you two every chance I get. The truth is, Caper doesn’t want me coming down here.”

  “That is very interesting,” Ponder said. Snapper heard the edge in her voice.

  Mauler crossed the room and brought his flat snout inches from Snapper’s face. His nostrils flared. “You look sleepy and smell different.”

  “Mauler!” Ponder squawked. “I am so sorry, Snapper. As you can see, he has made great progress with vocabulary and syntax. But we have not had much opportunity to practice courtesy.”

  The muscular beast lowered his head and ears.

  Snapper grinned. “It’s alright, big guy. They’ve got me medicated. I bet that’s what you smell.”

  “Is that so?” Ponder interjected. “We read about Chugg brand pharmaceuticals. We also read you were arrested the other evening. What is happening?”

  “Well, after I attacked Du
rdge, I was put on trial. Caper got me out of trouble by claiming I had psychiatric issues. The pigs let me go, but they’re making Caper give me pills. I can’t focus on anything and I have no energy. I think that’s the whole idea. They knew Caper was making it up, so they’re giving me something to make me easier to control. I think Caper knows it too. Everyone is just playing a game.”

  Mauler hissed. “Pig-drugs.”

  “Yes, we read plenty about those.” Ponder sighed. “I believe Professor Caper has a tendency to keep other people captive for their own safety. As you said, you and I and Mauler could be difficult to control. The three of us out in the world might cause too much trouble and irritate the wrong people.”

  Snapper bit his lip. “I don’t think that’s fair. Caper got us out of some real trouble.”

  “Oh, I appreciate his efforts to rescue us. I am sure you do too. But after an entire season confined to this room, I have to wonder if these circumstances are better. We three are still prisoners.”

  The sheep shook his head. “I don’t know what to say. We’re doing our best.”

  “I believe it,” Ponder assured him. “I am only thinking aloud. Professor Caper has my gratitude, no question.”

  Mauler stared at the door. The sheep took a long look at him, then back at Ponder.

  “What can I do to make it better?”

  The wooden bird did not answer.

  He cleared his throat. “Ponder. Just tell me one thing that would make you happier, at least for a little while.”

  “Your father put himself and you at so much risk for our sake. I could not ask anything of you, Snapper.”

  “It’s not about whether I can do anything or not. I just want to know what you’re thinking. Pretend the Goddess Optera was here in the room and she said she would grant you one wish.”

  Ponder was utterly silent again. Snapper realized she had no way of non-verbally communicating that she was deep in thought. He waited.