One Man's Opus (Book 3): Opus Adventure

by Craven III, Boyd

  Her words trailed off and the administrator gave her a gentle pat on the hand. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said simply.

  She nodded then stood. I followed, and we headed out.

  “I’m going to be hearing that a lot, aren’t I?” she asked me as we entered the atrium, leaving the small office behind.

  “I think so,” I told her. “How about we get you home?”

  “That would be good. I rode in with the ambulance…”

  “We’ve got this,” I told her. “You can ride with us. Tina or I can help you make the arrangements.”

  “Talking about me?” Tina asked, and I felt a furry head push its way under my hand.

  I scratched Opus’s ears and realized Tina had seen us first and had let Opus get my attention. My furry buddy let out a low groan of pleasure.

  “You bet,” I told her, “we’re going to give Annette a ride back.”

  “Of course we are,” Tina shot back.

  Opus left my side and walked around and rubbed his head on Annette’s hip, turning it like he was scratching his ear on her leg. She smiled and reached down to give him a pet.

  “I know, buddy,” she said, “I’m going to miss him too.”

  “Zaaaaab!” Owen said loudly, making all of us grin.

  Opus chuffed, and Tina saw me looking at her and she grinned. It was funny when people started cluing into a dog’s body language, but now wasn’t the time to start talking about it. Seeing Annette smile was worth it to me to keep my trap shut.

  “What was he trying to say?” Annette asked.

  “I don’t know,” Tina said, “but he was pretty empathetic about it.”

  5

  Tina & Opus

  Tina let Rick go with Annette inside her house to get the fire going. She’d taken Sarge and Opus with her and Owen to War Wagon. She’d learned all the systems and had no problem getting the pilot lit. With how much propane they’d gone through the last time they were snowed in, they’d learned to keep the big tank behind the shed topped off at the end of the season. In theory they could leave the pilot light lit, but as they had found out, motorhomes build up moisture easily.

  “Dadadadadadada,” Owen suggested from the bouncer Tina had put him in as a quick baby containment system that had they left behind from the summer.

  “He’s going to be a little bit, but won’t be long. I don’t think Annette is going to grieve for Bud while he’s around. She’s a tough one.”

  “Dargy!” Owen shot back, pointing at the younger shepherd.

  “Are you trying to say Sarge or doggy?” Tina asked him.

  “Dargy!” he said and busted up in giggles, pumping his legs up and down, making the motorhome floor shake.

  Sarge, hearing his name, went over to Owen and cocked his head to the side, then leaned in and licked the baby on the face. Giggles turned into shrieks, and he took a step back and sat down on his haunches, looking at Opus, who was suddenly interested.

  “You called him over,” Tina said, turning to make sure the fridge was turned on and not running on propane. It worked on both propane or electricity, and the RV was plugged in.

  Opus let out a groan, and Tina looked up to see Rick’s big van coming down the driveway. Rick had dropped them off at the RV and taken Annette back. The wood must have been laid out and ready to go. Sarge, or Bud, to make things less confusing, hadn’t liked using the fireplace and only did in the worst of winter. Tina felt a pang of sadness and wondered who would chop and haul wood.

  “Dayeeeee!” Owen yelled as he bounced and pointed out the big window.

  “That’s your daddy,” Tina said, smiling.

  It was warming up in the RV with the furnace going full blast, so Rick was taking his coat off as he opened the door, letting Ophelia bounce in before he came in himself.

  “It’s cold out there,” he told her.

  Ophelia did what the other two dogs had done; run from one spot to another, smelling everything, before coming back.

  “How’s Annette?” Tina asked him.

  “Good. I got the fire going and made sure both our numbers were handy. Were you able to get ahold of Char?”

  “Yes, she’ll post a note on the door. It’s coming into the slow season and her living so close…”

  “It makes sense. I…”

  “I know,” Tina said, sensing his mood change and his smile falter.

  “I just wish—”

  “Me too. We never have enough time, do we?” Tina asked.

  “I think when you’re in love, there’s never enough time,” Rick told her.

  Ophelia chuffed, then walked over to the bouncer and used her rear end to push Sarge out of the way and sniffed Owen’s neck, then gave him a lick. He squealed and pushed her head back from him. She chuffed and backed up and laid down in front of him. Opus grumbled and Sarge’s tail was going so hard he was bouncing almost as hard as Owen.

  “I think you’re right,” Tina said, stepping forward into his arms and giving him a hug.

  Opus whined and pushed himself between the two of them. Ophelia usually would have done the same, but she was watching the baby and barely paid attention to the older humans.

  “Bud didn’t have a ton of firewood cut. I’m going to go back and get that going if Annette isn’t sleeping.”

  “We can hold down the fort. What are you thinking about dinner wise?” she asked, wondering what she should pull out from the shed to whip up into a meal.

  “Whatever you want,” Rick told her. “I’m going to check on things outside, check the locks, then walk back up and see if there’s some stuff I can haul. Kind of put off making too much noise. I don’t think she slept at all.”

  “No, probably not. I’ll make sure she has a plate made up. Think she’d like to come down the trail a bit for dinner?”

  “I can ask,” Rick said, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

  “Opus, you want to come with me when I haul wood?”

  Opus let out a bark and got up, his tail wagging.

  Opus followed his adopted human called Rick. He was moving far slower than he usually did and didn’t take the big green van that Opus liked to ride in. Still, the chill air carried scent, and he could tell that somewhere close was a rabbit and a bunch of the evil squirrels. He was wary, but he knew he couldn’t leave his human’s side until he was for sure that—

  A black squirrel darted across the driveway and Opus was off like a shot. His human called encouragement. Opus’ lungs seemed to expand, and he ignored the pain in his rear leg and let his frustration and inaction out in one epic chase. The squirrel had started on the ground but had darted, trying to climb a smaller sapling. It tried to leap to a larger tree, but Opus sprung into the air. He caught it, like he would a frisbee or the ball that his human Rick liked to throw for him. The squirrel was wildly trying to get away, but being as careful as he could, he brought it back to his human. Rick’s face was one of shock. He held his hand out and Opus opened his jaws. The squirrel was off like a shot. Opus chuffed and sneezed, trying to get the taste out of his mouth.

  “You finally got one,” Rick said, patting his head.

  Opus looked up at him and chuffed, happy that he had shown his human that he had always been capable of catching them… but also pleased that the ones he did battle with and let loose often went back to their demonic hordes and warned them to stay away from his woods.

  “I thought you always ate what you caught?” Rick asked him, starting to walk again.

  Opus was limping slightly from age, arthritis, and behaving puppy like again, but he walked proudly with his human. Once again, he’d proved that he was willing and capable of protecting the people he had adopted. That was when he saw the rabbit.

  6

  Rick

  I smiled as Owen sat in Annette’s lap. Tina had let him help get dinner ready and they’d taken the entire pot of spaghetti over to her house. She’d set out the table and they’d started eating. Owen had insisted on sitting in Gammy�
�s lap, and I wasn’t going to tell him no unless she did or couldn’t.

  “He’s going to get you orange from the sauce,” Tina said for the third time.

  “I’m not worried,” Annette said, “I’ve had a good cry and a nap this afternoon. When I woke up, I realized it’s little things that I remember the most. Little things like the joy of having a little boy sit in your lap, how your pack of dogs terrorizes the tree rats around here. Little things like knowing…” Annette paused and took a deep breath, “…like knowing friends and family are willing to help.”

  “I’m honored you think of us like that,” I told her truthfully.

  “Don’t you get me started, I’ll bust you in the chops,” Annette said suddenly.

  I hung there with my jaw open for a second, and then Tina and her began laughing at the same time.

  “You channeled Sarge,” I said, finally getting it.

  “If I was channeling Sarge, I’d be talking about pulling your… No, I can’t, little ears,” she said, laughing.

  I grinned and shook my head. Annette had made garlic bread by buttering slices of bread and putting garlic powder on it. I’d done this plenty of times with Al before I’d met Tina, but maybe Annette was right; it was the little things. They were good, they were honest, and each represented a happy memory.

  “You know, I think I’m going to call the funeral home in the morning. The hospital administrator said he can even make the call if they don’t hear from them in a few days.”

  “I can call if you want,” Tina said.

  Her voice was soft, but she seemed to radiate confidence. That was how she was usually, but there were still moments, especially after the nightmares involving Moab, that would sometimes momentarily shake her. She’d decided she’d never be a victim again and had gone out and gotten her own CPL, and on top of her workout routine of running, she had added self-defense classes. For the last six months, she’d been working to get her body and confidence in peak condition. She called it losing her baby pouch, but I think it had more to do with building her confidence.

  I knew I still had issues of confidence. I’d been kidnapped, beaten, and almost killed by a childhood friend. After the media uproar had died down from that, I’d been quietly going to therapy. As a deeply introverted guy, I had few people I trusted so much. I mean, everything I thought or felt, Al already knew, but he was so laid back I didn’t think he could have helped much. I never really believed in it much until I realized that sometimes, it was the self reflection and quiet conversations with somebody who understood what I’d gone through that won me over.

  I’d failed. I’d failed as a man and a husband. I hadn’t protected Tina and Opus when they’d needed me, and at the core of all of that was guilt. The therapist and I had danced around this issue until I had come to the realization that, in hindsight, there was very little I could have done.

  “I’ll call them in the morning. It’s… Bud and I thought this was happening two or three years ago. Again, when he had his surgery. Now that it’s actually happened… it hurts, it hurts bad,” she said, a tear falling from her eye to hit Owen’s mass of blond curls, “but I think I’ve come to terms with this. Now I’m just following through on a plan we’d figured out already.”

  “Gammy eat delicious?” Owen said, holding a fork up straight over his head.

  “I… His hair—”

  “Got it,” Annette said and leaned over and took the bite before the spaghetti could drop into Owen’s hair.

  He giggled and started loading it up again when the house phone rang.

  “I’ve got him,” I said, reaching over and grabbing Owen from her.

  Opus got up and chuffed, bringing both Ophelia and Sarge to their feet from where they’d been napping in front of the fireplace.

  “I’ll be just a moment,” Annette said, shuffling toward the kitchen.

  I heard her answer, and Tina reached over and pulled Owen’s plastic plate over in front of me.

  “Dayeeeee, I bubba?”

  “You want your bottle?” Tina asked.

  “Bubba!”

  “I guess he’s ready for a drink,” I told my wife.

  “Me too.” She pinched my leg before reaching into the diaper bag and pulling one out.

  “Yeah, I guess me too, but not a bottle,” I said with a grin. “Anything stronger than a beer will have me snoring.”

  “Same here. I feel like we’ve been running on adrenaline and I’m now…”

  “Crashing,” I finished, watching as Opus padded into the kitchen.

  Ophelia and Sarge followed, but stopped in the living room so they could watch the archways. I marveled at their behavior. Opus had sensed that Annette had needed him and Ophelia and Sarge had gotten in a position where they could watch the doorways and listen in.

  “We’ve got a good pack,” Tina said, noting my gaze.

  “Yeah, except the hairless one,” I said, patting Owen. “He’s got to learn how to communicate better,” I teased.

  “The hairless one,” Tina said, her nose wrinkling up at my word usage, “already understands their body language. I think you’re just the slow one to catch on.”

  “Me? Slow?”

  Tina smirked at me and Owen caught her smile and smiled back. Annette finished her bit and then put Owen down. He wobbled for a second then started walking toward the dogs. He’d never been near the fireplace without one of us, but he knew the basic concept. Opus lifted his head and watched my son walk his way.

  “Opus, good!” Owen said, holding his hands out.

  Opus stood and Sarge shook himself to his feet just as Owen flopped on the ground in front of them both.

  “Nice?” he asked, offering his hands.

  Opus started licking one hand and then Sarge started on the other one. He giggled and both dogs sat back down, keeping themselves between the fire and the baby man.

  “He just wanted to get his hands cleaned,” I told Tina.

  “Having you here, all of you… it means a lot to me,” Annette said, walking back into the room.

  “We’re here as long as you need us,” Tina said.

  The funeral was a somber affair. With everything in order, he was cremated and there was a small ceremony. Most of the town showed up, which meant maybe a couple dozen people I recognized and most I didn’t. I sat in the back with Opus and the little man for most of the service. I’d said my goodbyes and had been visiting with Annette when I could. I’d remembered to bring my recorder, so I was getting a lot of things dictated when the silences became unbearable and I needed to walk.

  “You ok?” Tina asked me, after having stood up front with Annette for a bit.

  “Yeah,” I told her, “why?”

  “It’s just that you’re so quiet, so contained…” she said, brushing my hair aside on my forehead.

  “I… I’m going to miss him, but I don’t think he’d want me to be sad and upset that he’s gone. Part of me feels that, but most of me is looking at this and holding the little man kind of brings it home to me.”

  “Don’t dwell on it too long, we need you,” Tina said then bumped me with her hip.

  “Mamamamamamamamamamama—”

  “Ok, I got you,” Tina said, grabbing Owen, who’d opened his arms, holding them up in the universal pick me up gesture.

  “Opus, you want to go up with me?” I asked him.

  He chuffed and then rubbed his head against my leg. Most of the town folk recognized him and I would have brought in Ophelia also, but she was needed to keep Sarge from chewing up everything in the RV while we were gone.

  “Want me to come up with you?” Tina asked.

  “No, that’s ok. Hey, that smell—”

  “You waited until he went to me to notice he needed a diaper?” she asked, one eyebrow arching.

  Opus sniffed, then sneezed. It sounded suspiciously like he was calling bullshit, but his tongue was hanging out and he was holding himself at an easy smile. I wished I could be so flippant, but I
realized seeing everyone here around me that maybe this was what having a family about was like. In the end, we share and remember. We love, we live, and when we pass, the cycle keeps repeating.

  “Down?” Owen asked, very clear in his question.

  “Not yet, you’re stinky,” Tina told him and kissed his forehead.

  “Teenky, Dayee!”

  “I’ll be right back,” I told Tina.

  “Take your time,” she said then leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

  “Opus buddy, you ready?”

  He chuffed.

  I walked up to the front. Instead of a casket, there were three easels set in place, with a shelf and an urn in the middle. Each of the easels held a picture board. They were arranged from right to left in what looked like Bud’s entire life. From the grainy picture somebody found of him as a kid to the first day of boot camp, his head shaved, and looking like he was two days after a major fist fight. Pictures of him and Annette, their wedding, their son. Lots of pictures with Bud and his son.

  The third board had me almost choking up. It was a picture of me in front with Bud directing the action. It was when I’d dragged some of the cut trees into the area where he cut and split his firewood near his outdoor smoker. I grinned and saw that there were a ton of pictures of him holding baby Owen, of our families at the diner having biscuits and gravy, extra bacon. Puppy Sarge under the table with Ophelia and Opus.

  Opus made a whining sound and leaned into me. I looked up to see Annette standing there. Her cheeks were dry, but I could see she was getting tired.

  “You ok?” she asked me.

  “The real question is, how are you?” I shot back, avoiding the question.

  “I’m doing good, I guess, but—”

  “It’s because you’re so quiet,” Annette said, petting Opus between the ears in the spot he liked.

  He couldn’t help it, the tail started wagging and the leg lifted, and he started thumping it on the ground as she hit his spot. I saw her smile and at that moment I decided that the thing about funerals I’d always understood it, was wrong. This wasn’t a last goodbye. This was a celebration of the life lived, of sharing memories. It started to hit me funny, so I leaned in and gave her a quick hug.