“Sounds good, I’m going to get Owen out, check his diaper, and get a bottle going,” Tina said, still yawning.
Opus sat back, his tongue lolling out of the side of his mouth. Mission accomplished.
9
Rick
“Oh hey, aren’t you that guy?” a woman asked, walking out of the restrooms with what had to have been her husband or boyfriend.
“I guess it depends on what guy,” I told her, holding Sarge’s leash tight while Opus and Ophelia sniffed and marked the trees near him on a longer lead.
Truth was, they were only leashed because of other people’s fears and misconceptions.
“The author guy with the attack dogs?” she said.
“Oh yeah, I remember hearing about you. You’re a local, right?” the husband piped up.
“Sort of, that was a couple years ago, but don’t worry, these guys aren’t attack dogs,” I said, noting how the wife was suddenly wary.
Sarge got down on his belly and started crawling slowly toward her. He must have sensed that she was scared. That got Opus’s attention and, without tangling the leads, both he and Ophelia started back, the reels winding up the slack on the springs. I grinned as the woman at first took half a step back and then a smile came across her mouth and she knelt down, offering her hand up. Sarge rolled onto his stomach and pawed at her hand playfully, trying to sneak a lick in.
“He doesn’t look that dangerous,” the husband said.
“It’s the old guy, Opus here, you might have read about, and his lady friend, Ophelia. They were the ones who saved us,” I said, kneeling as I got bumped in the side by Opus.
“Dayee!” I heard Owen’s cry from behind them. I saw Tina’s grin as she put Owen down, and he came bounding my direction. I had my hands full of leashes but that didn’t stop the nearly thirty-five pounds of joy from trying to tackle me off my feet. Sarge rolled onto all fours and turned to inspect his little man. I grinned and handed Tina the lead for her pup.
“These guys are so beautiful,” the woman said, running her fingers through Sarge’s fur behind his head.
“They really are. Wicked smart too,” Tina told her. “I think Opus knows something like two hundred commands—”
“And you can just talk to him, and he talks back.”
“What?” the husband asked, skepticism in his voice.
“His name is Opus, ask him a question, or better yet…” I leaned closer and whispered to him.
Opus cocked his head sideways but didn’t do anything else.
“Opus, your owner here tells me you like to wear a tutu and be a pretty, pretty little princess?” he asked.
Opus sneezed.
“Oh wow, he just called bullshit,” the woman said laughing.
“Yeah, he’s got a mouth,” Tina said, taking Owen’s hand. “He’s got his way of saying yes and no, and I’m not quite sure if he manipulated us into stopping so I could change a stinky diaper.”
“Teenky!” Owen agreed, giggling.
Opus chuffed and rubbed his head against my leg. I pet him, and he let out a grumble of pleasure. The woman took half a step back.
“Oh, he’s just telling me that feels good,” I told her, scratching faster, making his grumble higher in pitch.
It relaxed her, but she looked over my shoulder. Time to go?
“That’s pretty interesting,” the husband said, following everything we said.
Ophelia took a step forward and then sat down in front of the couple and put a paw up, putting it on his leg. He looked at me, and I was about to explain when Tina beat me to the punch, “That’s Ophelia, she’s introducing herself. You can shake her hand if you want, but she’s just letting you know she thinks you’re all right.”
“You got all that?”
“It’s a body language thing. For a long time, it was Rick, me, and Opus here. As you can see,” she said, nodding to Owen and the other dogs, “our family unit grew a little bit.”
“Someday, we hope to do the same,” the woman said, rubbing her stomach unconsciously. “It was nice talking to you both and, Rick, keep writing!”
I gave a small nod and a wave. “They recognized me and the dogs from what happened…”
“It’s bound to happen,” Tina said told me. “More and more, the more books you write, the more well known you’ll become.”
“More like notorious,” I grumbled, and Ophelia came over and rubbed her head against my leg.
“Let’s get everyone loaded up and you can hit the head,” Tina said.
“Sounds good.”
We got back to the van and loaded everyone up, and I headed back inside. On my way out, I checked the map. Every rest stop in the country seemed to have the ‘You are here’ maps. I’d made good time so far. We didn’t have to power through the trip though, not like we’d done out west. With three dogs, the baby, and Tina falling asleep, I’d be lucky to make the drive in three days. I’d planned for four or five. I did some mental math and saw I’d already be somewhere in Tennessee or Northern Georgia if I went at my old road trip warrior style. I just hoped to get two thirds of that, depending on how things went.
We stopped for a late breakfast, early lunch, and to let the dogs out again. Owen was talking up a storm, and I was relieved that, on our first long trip, he wasn’t fussy or screaming. He was a pretty easy going guy, to be fair. Sarge kept trying to goad Owen into dropping food, but Ophelia and Opus tried not to look at the french fries that Tina was feeding the baby man a few at a time.
“How far do we want to go tonight?” Tina asked.
“That’s up to you,” I told her. “And we can stay in the van or get a hotel room. Either way is fine with me, but we might have a harder time with three dogs.”
“I hadn’t thought about that,” Tina said through a mouthful. “You have your big blow up mattress packed?”
I snorted, making Opus sit up from his bench in the van. I caught the movement from the rearview mirror and handed back a few fries.
“Hey! He can’t eat that,” Tina scolded me, but it was too late; he had scarfed them as soon as they were offered, and he was licking the salt off my hands.
Owen giggled and tried handing his fries over, but Opus turned his head, knowing better. Sometimes, I thought the training was more for the humans, it helped us bridge the communication gap. I’d been going with Ophelia for a couple years now. She’d bonded closely with me and often wouldn’t leave my side, but her personality was a little different than Opus’s. She would sit behind Tina instead of me, where Opus was, but I’d figured out it was so she could actually see most of me.
All the dogs loved on Owen, but I couldn’t figure out which dog had claimed him yet. It was a toss up between Opus, who’d adopted all of us, but Sarge more and more was becoming glued to the baby man. I thought it was because he’d stayed with us when we’d given his litter mates to the breeder that Ophelia had originally come from. We could have sold them individually, especially with the pedigrees of the two O’s, but we wanted the breeder to keep the bloodlines of them alive and going. They had quite literally saved our lives.
“Sorry,” I told Tina after pulling my hand back, “it’s not like he’s doing CrossFit training.”
“He’s getting older though,” Tina shot back, a hint of annoyance in her voice.
“So are we,” I reminded her and reached over and put a hand on her arm.
“Yep, and you’re older than me,” she said and stuck her tongue out.
“So the dog can’t have fries but the baby can?” I asked her.
“Hey, don’t use that logic with me, you’re setting a bad example.” She smiled.
“There’s an interesting stop along the way. It’s not much of a side track but…”
“Side!” Owen shouted, and Opus let out a chuff.
“What were you thinking about?” Tina asked me.
“The Jack Daniel’s Distillery is sort of on the way. It’s just past Murfreesboro,” I told her.
�
��Let me punch it up,” Tina said and started playing with the GPS.
My phone dinged and although I usually tried not to look at it while I was driving, this time I did. I unlocked it and saw a text from Annette.
Don’t text me back if you’re driving. I’m almost all packed, and I had a load of wood delivered. I hired some of the younger town kids to come stack it. I know you were worried about that, but I think maybe all of us need this vacation.
“Annette?” Tina asked.
“Yeah,” I told her, putting the phone back in the center console, “she says don’t text and drive and she got the firewood situated. I think she’s excited to come on vacation with us.”
“Yeah… hey, that’s a long bit to drive in one day isn’t it?” she asked me, pointing to the new GPS readout.
“It might be. We could go as far as you want tonight and then maybe see if they have any tours open, first thing in the morning?”
“I like that idea better,” Tina said. “Road trips make me sleepy.”
I almost stuck my foot in my mouth but caught myself. Soon, everyone was sleeping or nodding off, leaving me in semi-silence. I got my recorder out and got my microphone ready. Out of self-consciousness again I looked around and although I could only hear snores from Owen, Tina appeared asleep. More than a few times I’d been dictating a story to have Tina hear me going and die of laughter. Although my wife absolutely knew what I was doing, hearing the words come out of my introverted mouth just made her get the giggles and threw off my game.
I had a story idea, one I had been playing around with since Utah. It was a prepper post-apocalyptic story about an outlaw prepper. He never tried to hurt people, but by letter of the law, he was an outlaw on just about everything he did day to day. Maybe it was time to start it up again.
“That was actually kind of interesting,” Tina told me as we walked out of the distillery.
“Too bad Lynchburg is in a dry county, huh?” I asked her.
“Daddy juice!” Owen said loudly and although I got a wry grin from Tina, I knew it annoyed her a little bit.
“It’s definitely not Owen juice,” I told him. “Hun, you ready to get back on the road?” I asked her.
“You better believe it.”
10
Tina
Tina feigned sleep in the afternoon because traveling always made Owen sleepy on short trips, and it was turning out he enjoyed his waking moments as well. Tina listened and heard him snoring softly. Opus was behind Rick, staring out the window, always watchful. In such a short time things had changed dramatically, but she wouldn’t trade her life for anything in the world. The entire writing process and the things Rick knew about publishing and the writing culture, she was getting used to. Saying all of that, though, she was always amazed at the stories he came up with.
She’d married him for his heart as much as his mind with zero regrets. Right now, she had her eyes closed and was listening to him finally start a story in another genre. She’d told him more than once that he didn’t have to wait for them to fall asleep, but he’d told her that he’d bore them to sleep anyway. She chalked it up to insecurity and faked sleep for as long as she could, so she could listen in and let him get some work done.
That was one thing about the writer’s world she’d learned through him. There’s a ‘churn’ to things. Not a literal upheaval, but until a writer’s career has taken off to the point they become a household name, the best way to get out there is to write more books, publish, and market. He had a knack for the marketing and research. He was a great storyteller, but it was how easy it came to him that amazed her. Her parents said much of the same when she told them about the eBay business she was starting with abandoned household items. The barn had been built using that money, and the property and mortgage she had taken out to buy the business from her parents had been paid off by the profits.
She didn’t ask Rick about his money and he didn’t ask about hers; she had always thought that it was gauche, even for husband and wife. They always had enough to do what they wanted…
“Go to sleep,” Rick said.
“I am asleep, silly,” Tina said and opened her eyes, grinning at him.
“No you’re not, you’re listening in.”
“That’s because you’re not writing Paranormal Romance. This is a prepper story, isn’t it?”
Rick nodded and smiled. “I wasn’t sure I wanted to do one. The market is so volatile, but with the way the election went, the social unrest… I mean, it might be something hot to get into with the current timing.”
“You do the market research, so you already know how it’s going to do, right?”
“I do,” Rick agreed. “The trick is to make the first book catch on and build my mailing list.”
“Boring,” Tina said and made a mock snore, turning her head.
Sarge bounced over Ophelia and tried crawling in her lap, looking for the sound. Tina laughed and pushed him back, telling him that there was no room up front for him on her lap. Opus chuffed, and Ophelia whined a bit.
“Where do you want to stop for the night?” Rick asked her.
“Hotel you mean?” he asked.
“Could be a hotel, campground, van, I really don’t mind. We’ll have another eight or so hours once we stop for the night I think, judging by little man and his moods.”
“He’s likely to keep us up all night, he’s been sleeping so much,” Tina told him.
“I know. I think he’s probably enjoying all of this. He’s a lot less talkative than normal.”
“Hm… how about after the next rest stop I trade one of the furball’s seats?”
Opus looked at her and then cocked his head to the right, his eyes boring into her. She caught Rick looking in the rearview mirror and grinning and caught Opus in the act of asking.
“Ok, Opus, you can have my seat next, but no hanging your head out the window. That’s not dignified and a dog of your stature…”
“You’re talking like he’s Fitzwilliam Darcy,” Rick interrupted.
“Yes, he’s exactly like that. He’s got his happy ending, and next rest stop he’ll have my seat.”
“Not if you take a turn driving,” Rick said without looking.
“I can’t drive this beast—”
“Oh malarkey,” Rick countered. “You can drive War Wagon, you just pretend you can’t. Remember?”
Tina was busted, and she knew it. “I’ll take a turn if you want.”
“No, I was just kidding. No worries,” Rick told her.
“He probably thinks we can’t hear him from the backseat if he decides to dictate more,” Tina told Opus, who chuffed his answer to her.
Tina saw the sign for a national park as the sun was starting to set. She and Rick decided that it would make a good spot to have dinner since most parks had a spot to use a grill. They had packed some bratwursts and potato salad with other stuff so they didn’t get sick on road food before the cruise. Rick had remembered to pack half a bag of charcoal just for this purpose. They weren’t surprised to find things exactly as they thought just inside the Florida border.
“Ohhhhh, this is so pretty,” Tina told nobody.
“It is. I’m going to get out and stretch. We parked down from the public bathrooms a little bit, if you want to go I can change Owen and let him run around until it’s time to get the grill going.”
Sarge started barking loudly in excitement as he realized they were stopping for the day. Rick cringed a little as Owen let out a surprised squall. Tina beat feet, and he let the dogs out and told Opus to stick close to the van. He hadn’t seen an area just for dogs and most places required animals, even service animals, to be leashed. He wasn’t being irresponsible, his dogs just had good training. Most of them. Sarge took off after something furry that went up the side of a tree like greased lightning. That had Opus’s interest and he trotted over, followed by Ophelia who had her nose to the ground.
Rick changed Owen quickly, who had gotten over being
startled by the dogs. He had what he called toxic waste disposal bags available for this purpose and tied off the offensive biohazardous material safely. He’d find a trash can and get rid of it, but if he needed to stretch, Owen, who’d been sitting all day, really needed to get out and move. He was right, he was closing the van door when Owen took off across the empty parking lot to where Tina was emerging from the bathrooms. The further south they had come, the warmer the weather. Rick was thankful for leaving the little man in jeans, but the way he picked his feet up and put them down had him grinning.
“You got him?” Rick yelled to Tina.
“I got him,” she called back.
Opus abandoned the tree as Rick went to the back of the van and opened the double doors back there.
“You’ve been a good guy,” Rick told him, and Opus chuffed in agreement and licked his lips at the sight of the big white cooler.
“You don’t feed him raw meat!” Tina called. “We can’t afford his meals if he suddenly turns picky on us.”
Tina walked back, hand in hand with Owen, who was doing what Rick called Oomi Zoomi talk. You ignored the first half of the sentence and picked out the real words then tried to guess the meaning.
“You want me to get the charcoal going?” Tina asked, pointing to a BBQ pit that wasn’t too far off from the parking area, near a pavilion and picnic table.
“Sure,” he told her.
Tina let go of Owen for a second, who decided to head to the tree Sarge was still circling. She gave him half a look then grabbed the bag of charcoal, the lighter fluid, and a lighter that Rick had conveniently put in a five-gallon bucket without a lid. She loved his brain, but sometimes he took his lists and packing too seriously. However, it also made life easier, like right now.
“Owen, don’t you go that far,” she called after him.
He’d gotten bold and decided to go toward the next tree, but he wasn’t far off. Ophelia quit sniffing all around the tree and bounded over to him, her head pushing him gently to the left. He let out a squeal, and Ophelia did it again and again until he was running in Tina’s direction.
One Man's Opus (Book 3): Opus Adventure Page 5
