Fort Collins

by Christian, Claudia Hall

  “I’m going to miss him so much,” Katy said.

  “Me, too,” Jill said.

  “Besides Paddie, he’s been my best friend,” Katy said. “What am I going to do without him?”

  Heartbroken, Jill looked down. She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead so that her arm covered her weeping eyes. Scooter nudged her hand with the tip of his nose until her hand flopped on his head. She rubbed his ears again.

  “I don’t know, Katy,” Jill said. “I don’t know what we’re going to do without him. He’s been our dog friend for a very long time.”

  “Uh, huh,” Katy said.

  “Sometimes. . .” Jill sighed and looked up. Katy lifted her head from behind Scooter. “Sometimes, when we love someone, we have to do what’s best for them, even if it doesn’t feel best for us.”

  “But it’s not best for Scooter!” Katy said. “He’s going to miss us horribly. He’s so scared.”

  “What does Daddy do when you’re scared?” Jill asked.

  “He tells me that he’s big and strong and that he’ll take care of me no matter what,” Katy said with a nod.

  “We have to be strong for Scooter,” Jill said.

  Katy nodded.

  “Can you be strong for Scooter?” Jill asked.

  “I can be strong for Scooter,” Katy said.

  “Then we must release him,” Jill said.

  “What does that mean?” Katy asked.

  “We must release Scooter from our bond to him,” Jill said. “We must let him go so that he can be at rest. He loves you and me the very most out of anyone in the entire world.”

  “What about Delphie?” Katy asked. “She saved Scooter so that I could meet him and he could be my friend.”

  “You’re right,” Jill said. “I’ll go get. . .”

  “Jill?” Delphie’s voice called from the entrance to their loft.

  “We’re in here,” Jill said.

  “She knew. . .” Katy said.

  The child put her nose into the scruff of Scooter’s neck and hugged him close. Delphie came into the doorway.

  “Scooter isn’t feeling well,” Jill said.

  “He’s been hanging on for a while,” Delphie said. Tears began to fall down the kindly woman’s face. “Oh, Scooter.”

  Delphie went around the bed to see the dog’s face.

  “I was just telling Katy that we need to release him,” Jill said.

  “It’s so hard to do when all we want to do is hold on tight,” Delphie said.

  In an attempt to get herself together, Jill wiped her eyes. One glance at Katy’s crying face, and Jill’s tears began to fall again.

  “Should I call our vet?” Delphie asked.

  “Mommy can do it,” Katy said. “Scooter wants her to.”

  Delphie looked up at Jill, and Jill gave her a slight nod.

  “We have to release him first,” Jill said.

  Nodding to herself, Delphie focused on Scooter. The Oracle put her hands on either side of Scooter’s face.

  “My dear, beloved friend,” Delphie whispered. “Thank you for all you’ve been and all you’ve done. You will live in my heart for the rest of my life. I release you.”

  “Katy?” Jill asked.

  Katy looked up at her mother again. Her eyes blinked, and she put her head back down.

  “Katy?”

  “I don’t want to,” Katy said.

  “I didn’t want to, either,” Delphie said. “But it’s what Scooter needs.”

  “We have to love Scooter more than we love ourselves,” Jill said.

  “Why?” Katy asked.

  “Because we want him to stay with us, to be our friend no matter what,” Jill said. “But Scooter is. . .”

  “In lots of pain,” Katy said. “Oh, Scooter.”

  Jill sat down on the bed so that she could pet Scooter and soothe Katy. The little girl’s shoulders shook with sobs.

  “But he’s so afraid to be away from us,” Katy said through her tears.

  “It’s so painful for him to be here,” Delphie said.

  “He doesn’t like to be alone,” Katy said.

  “Can you imagine that our Scooter will be alone for long?” Jill said with a snort. “People and dogs will come from all over just to welcome him home.”

  “Everybody loves Scooter,” Katy said in a soft, sad voice.

  “He will be at peace,” Jill said. “I will not let him suffer in fear and loneliness. He will be free from all of that suffering when we release him.”

  Katy gave a loud, moist sigh. She wrapped her arms around Scooter’s neck.

  “I love you, Scooter,” Katy said.

  “Thank him for being your friend,” Jill said.

  “Thank you for being my good friend,” Katy said. “Especially when we moved to this house and met Daddy and all that scary stuff with our old-Daddy.”

  Katy pressed her face into Scooter’s scruff and gave him a loud kiss.

  “I release you from being my dog,” Katy said. “But you’ll always be my friend.”

  Jill gave Katy a soft smile.

  “Are you ready, Katy?” Jill asked. “When I do this, Scooter will leave us really fast.”

  “I’m ready, Mommy,” Katy said. “You sure he won’t be scared and it won’t hurt?”

  “He won’t be in pain,” Jill said.

  She slipped off the bed and knelt down. Scooter lifted his head. He made a small sound, a kind of whimper, and Jill let out a soft sob.

  Jill thought of all the times this little scruffy mutt had cheered her up and given her hope. She thought of the moment she saw him again — her old friend risen from the dead. She remembered the moment Katy met him and how they’d loved each other on the spot. She remembered how Scooter had attacked the serpent with no concern for himself. He’d only wanted to make certain Katy and Jill were safe.

  She’d known he was in pain. She’d tried to save him. She knew now that the only real way to save him was to let him go. Sighing, she put her hands around his face.

  His eyes locked on Jill’s.

  “Precious Scooter,” Jill whispered. “I release you. You may go.”

  Scooter seemed to smile. He took a slow breath, and then another. Her ears expected her friend to take another breath. When the breath didn’t come, Jill’s heart broke open.

  “Scooter?” Jill said through her tears.

  Scooter’s warmth was gone. Her friend had been released from his pain, suffering, and joy of this life. She looked at Katy. Her daughter was crying her heart out. Jill looked up at Delphie. The Oracle was leaning against the wall. She held her hand in front of her eyes while she cried.

  Jill went to the bed and scooped up Katy. Delphie sat down next to them and leaned into Jill. Wrapped in their grief, they held onto each other.

  Jill knew that her resilient daughter would get over losing Scooter. She knew that Delphie would pray for him every day for the rest of her life. It was going to take them a long time to get over losing Scooter.

  Jill knew for herself that this very moment would mark her life. Everything else would be considered “After Scooter.” She’d never be the same.

  ~~~~~~~~

  Thursday afternoon — 2:15 p.m.

  “Hi!” Blane said to Aden and Ivan from the white picket fence around Tanesha’s house. “Sorry about the mess.”

  He held open the fence, and Aden carefully pushed Ivan in his wheelchair down the brick path.

  “We’re moving in,” Blane said. “Or moved in this morning. Jeraine left this morning for tour, and we’re living here until he gets back in the fall.”

  They got to the edge of the porch. Blane pointed to the right. The brick path continued around the house. Blane opened the gate to the backyard. Aden wheeled Ivan around the house to the back porch.

  “Sandy was here this morning. Helping us move.” Blane kept talking to ease the tension. “Tanesha’s moved into the basement. Heather and I are taking the upstairs. Tink’s staying in the livi
ng room so I can treat people in this bedroom.”

  Aden wheeled Ivan around the house to the back porch. A new ramp connected the path to the back porch, and another ramp connected the back porch to the house.

  “Sam built these this morning,” Blane said.

  “Why are you moving?” Ivan asked.

  “We’re adding space onto our house,” Blane said. “We’ve been planning to do it for a while — years really. But since I was sick and in the hospital, it was too much for us to do. When Jeraine decided to go on tour. . .”

  Tink opened the back door and helped them get Ivan inside.

  “. . . everything worked out,” Blane said. “Tanesha needs to study for finals so I’m taking care of the house and her while Jeraine’s gone. By the time he’s back, our house should be done.”

  Blane turned right.

  “The room is right here,” Blane said.

  Aden rolled Ivan into what had been the spare bedroom.

  “Thank you for letting me treat you,” Blane said. “You’re the first person I’ve seen since getting out of the hospital.”

  Clearly in pain, Ivan gave Blane a curt nod.

  “What do I. . .?” Ivan asked.

  “Why don’t you stay there?” Blane asked. “Aden, you can wait either here or outside.”

  “I can help unpack,” Aden said.

  “You don’t have to,” Blane said. “We just brought the bare minimum — clothing, mostly.”

  He gave Aden an odd smile.

  “Oh,” Aden said and nodded.

  “Oh?” Ivan looked up at Aden and then at Blane.

  “The fairies will be here before Tanesha gets home from school,” Aden said. “If anything’s not done, they will fix it to Tanesha’s perfection.”

  “Nice,” Ivan grinned.

  “Tanesha hates it, so they have to do it when she’s not here,” Blane said with a shrug. “I’m certainly not going to turn down their help. And, as I said, we’re mostly done anyway.”

  He took one of Ivan’s wrists and began taking Ivan’s Chinese medicine pulse.

  “Do you mind if Aden stays?” Blane asked.

  “No,” Ivan said. “I may need help getting up there.”

  “On the table?” Blane asked. “Let’s see if we get that far.”

  He went around and took the pulse of Ivan’s other hand.

  “How long are you staying?” Blane asked.

  “Until Sunday,” Ivan said. “I’ve been receiving treatments from. . .”

  “Yes, we spoke last night,” Blane said. “He gave me some suggestions about how I can facilitate your healing. Sissy’s, too.”

  Blane stepped back and looked Ivan up and down. He scowled for a moment and then nodded.

  “Have you had acupuncture before?” Blane asked.

  “Yes,” Ivan said. “I never found it to be very helpful.”

  “Yes,” Blane said. He continued to look at Ivan.

  “Why is that?” Aden asked.

  “Oh, sorry,” Blane said. “I’m trying to decide what to do first.”

  “First?” Ivan asked.

  “I’d like to see you, at the very minimum, once a day,” Blane said with a nod. “Will that work?”

  “Of course,” Ivan said. “If it helps.”

  Blane nodded. He turned away and went to a shelf where boxes of his needles were sitting. He picked up a pack of needles and a sharps container. He set the sharps container on the treatment table and unpacked the needles.

  “You have. . . um. . .” Blane looked up at the wall. “Sorry, I’m trying to find the right words for it. You have an energetic wall around a whole bunch of. . . garbage.”

  Blane gave a nod and started putting in needles.

  “Garbage?” Ivan asked.

  “Experiences, pains,” Blane said. He was silent for a moment. “How did you hurt your leg?”

  “Gulag,” Ivan said.

  Blane nodded. He stuck a needle just under Ivan’s knee and one near his ankle.

  “I have wound on back,” Ivan said.

  “Your biggest wound is in your heart,” Blane said.

  “What?” Ivan asked.

  “This is taking a long time to heal, isn’t it?” Blane asked.

  “I was stabbed a week ago,” Ivan said.

  “Not a long time for normal people, but a long time for you,” Blane said.

  “Da,” Ivan said.

  “We will have to open this energy vault of yours,” Blane said. “We can do it a little bit at a time so you don’t get overwhelmed. Kind of siphon off the energy. Is that all right with you?”

  “Will it make me better?” Ivan asked. “Healthy?”

  “It will recharge your body’s ability to heal,” Blane said. “Can I take off your glasses?”

  Ivan glanced at the overhead light. Blane pointed to Aden. He went to shut off the lights. Ivan took off his glasses.

  “Take a breath,” Blane said. Ivan took a breath, and Blane put a needle into the bridge of his nose. “Let it go.”

  Ivan let out the breath.

  “Another,” Blane said. Ivan took a breath, and Blane put a needle above the first. “Let it go.”

  Ivan’s face flushed red.

  “Are you ready?” Blane asked.

  Ivan nodded. Without warning, Blane put in two needles in quick succession. Ivan gasped a breath. Blane looked at Aden.

  “Take his hand,” Blane said.

  Aden grabbed Ivan’s hand. Ivan looked up at Blane.

  “You are safe here,” Blane said. “Let it go.”

  Ivan crumpled forward and began to sob. Blane went to the shelf and picked up a box of tissues. He set them on the bed.

  “Just remind him to let it go,” Blane said to Aden. “He needs to release this.”

  Aden nodded.

  “I’ll be back in a half hour with some tea,” Blane said.

  Aden nodded in agreement. Blane put a firm hand on Ivan’s shoulder for support before leaving the room.

  Chapter Three Hundred and Seventy-five

  Land of pain

  Thursday afternoon — 2:25 p.m.

  Charlie stifled a yawn. He’d been up on the witness stand for most of the day. The afternoon session started at two, but no one had asked him a question yet. They were busy arguing over whether or not his high school transcripts could be used as evidence. Charlie wasn’t sure why this was a big deal, but, according to the Defense team, it was vital.

  Charlie’s biggest problem was that his arm itched under the cast. It had started to itch that morning, but Tink and everybody came to have lunch with him and he’d forgotten all about it. Now his itchy arm was all he could think about. He had spied the Judge’s ruler when he was sitting there that morning. It was the perfect size for scratching under his cast. In this boring moment, it took all of his will not to grab the ruler.

  Plus, the Judge seemed particularly annoyed this afternoon. As if the Judge could hear his thoughts, the elderly man turned to look at Charlie. He glanced at his ruler and then back at Charlie. Grabbing the ruler, the Judge tossed the metal object at him. Charlie caught it.

  “Excuse me,” Charlie said.

  The lawyers were so busy with their own words and voices that they didn’t notice. Charlie took the ruler and scratched under the cast on his right arm. The Judge put his hand over the microphone.

  “Better?” the Judge asked in a low voice.

  “Yes, sir,” Charlie said.

  “Keep it,” the Judge said with a nod.

  In a world that had been incredibly cruel, in a trial about some of the most brutal crime anyone in the city had ever seen, this Judge’s simple gift of this metal ruler overwhelmed Charlie. His eyes welled with tears. He could only nod at the Judge.

  “Soldier on, son,” the Judge said with a nod. He took his hand off the microphone and gave the lawyers all of his attention. “While it is lovely to hear your voices, I’m wondering if there’s a point to all of this.”

  “We wish to d
etermine that Charles Delgado is not. . . shall we say, an honor student,” the Defense Attorney said.

  “If that’s an issue, I can tell you myself,” Charlie said with a nod. “When I was at Westy, I never went to school.”

  The courtroom fell silent. Charlie glanced at the Defense team and saw them lean forward in the hopes that he would give them their point. He glanced at the District Attorney. He was nervously licking his lips.

  “I. . . uh. . .” Charlie said. Intimidated, Charlie swallowed hard.

  He heard the Judge’s words in his mind: “Soldier on, son.”

  “I don’t think it’s too weird,” Charlie said. “My dad was the center of my world, and he died. No, he didn’t just die. My mom kicked him and us out of her house. We lived on the streets and in this horrible, smelly hotel. And then he died at Uncle Seth’s house. I was in school. I wasn’t even. . .”

  To Charlie’s surprise, his eyes welled with tears.

  “I wasn’t even there,” Charlie said. He felt tears roll down his face. “I. . . did drugs and. . . and. . . anything, everything that would make the pain go away. It drove my mother crazy — or made her crazier. She kicked me out so she could get my dad’s pension and not have to spend it on me. My little sister started to starve herself, and I was cold, hungry, sleeping on the streets, and. . . and. . . Pain. Pain. Pain.”

  Charlie looked around at the stunned faces of the lawyers.

  “All I felt all the time was pain,” Charlie said. “People say they don’t have any idea why I would help the girls who. . . you know. . . who this jerk hurt. . . but to me. . .”

  Charlie swiped at his tears and took a breath.

  “I know the contours of pain,” Charlie said. “I know what it tastes like, what it smells like, and what it feels like. I found those girls when they needed me the most because they entered my land.”

  Charlie hit his chest.

  “Horror and pain were all I knew for a very long time,” Charlie said. “My friends and I, we were like. . . like. . .”

  Charlie’s mind searched for the best way to describe what he was thinking. When it clicked in, he nodded.

  “We were like Charon, the ferryman, on the river Styx,” Charlie said. “We ferried these poor girls’ broken bodies and souls from the land of pain to the land of the living, where they belonged.”