The door opened and the car rocked as CJ jumped back in. I wagged, hoping she would let me out and pet me to celebrate her return, but she just shut her door. “You won’t believe this.”
“What?”
“She moved. The woman who answered the door has lived there for a year, and she bought it from some old man.”
“You’re kidding. I thought that boyfriend of hers, the one whose father was a senator, paid off the mortgage so she’d always have a home,” Trent said.
“That’s right, but she apparently sold it anyway.”
“Well … you want to call her? Her cell phone is probably the same.”
“No, you know what? I’m going to take this as a sign. It’s like the joke where your parents move and don’t tell you their forwarding address—well, that’s what Gloria has done to me. Let’s just go.”
We started driving again. With a sigh, I settled down.
“Do you want to drive past your old place?” CJ asked.
“No, that’s okay. This trip was for you. I have a lot of good memories about that house, but after my parents retired and sold it—I’d rather keep it as it was in my memory than see all the changes, you know?”
We drove for a long time without anyone making any sounds. I was sleepy, but I woke up when I heard CJ’s voice, because there was a little bit of fear in it.
“Trent?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s true, isn’t it. This trip was all for me. Everything you’ve done since I went into the hospital has been for me.”
“No, I had fun, too.”
“The whole thing. Tracking down my relatives. Making the detour so I could see Gloria even though we both knew that at the last minute I’d probably turn chicken.”
I cocked my head. Chicken?
“Ever since we were kids growing up, you’ve been there for me. You know that? You’re my rock.”
I turned around in my box and lay down.
“But that’s not why I love you, Trent. I love you because you’re the best man in the world.”
Trent was quiet for a moment. “I love you, too, CJ,” he said. Then I felt the car turn and slow to a stop. I stood up in my crate and shook myself.
“I think maybe I need to stop driving for a minute,” Trent said.
I waited patiently to be let out, but all I could hear was rustling around in the front seat, plus what sounded like eating noises. Could they be having chicken? I didn’t smell any, but the thought made me agitated anyway. I finally barked.
CJ laughed. “Max! We forgot all about you.”
I wagged.
As it would turn out, that was not the last time we saw Hannah and her whole family. Not long after we returned home, I was taken to a big room full of people sitting in rows of chairs, as if we were going to play the game that Andi had taught me when I was Molly. Trent held me tightly, but I squirmed out of his arms when I smelled Cindy and Rachel and Hannah. Rachel laughed and scooped me up and held me to Hannah and I licked her face. I was careful and gentle in my behavior, though, not at all like Duke would have been, because Hannah seemed frail and there was always someone holding her by the arm. Trent’s sister, Carolina, and his mother and father were there, too, which was a surprise to me because I never smelled them on Trent and so had assumed they were no longer alive.
I was so happy to see all of them! CJ was happy, too, as happy as I could ever remember her being. There was so much joy and love in the air, flowing through the people in the chairs and between CJ and Trent, that I couldn’t help but bark. CJ picked me up and cuddled me. “Shhh, Max,” she whispered, kissing my nose.
I wore something soft on my back and walked with CJ between the people to where Trent was standing, and I sat there with them while they talked and then they kissed and everyone in the room yelled and I barked again.
It was such a wonderful day. Every table was draped with cloth so that there were little rooms under each one, rooms with people’s legs and morsels of meat and fish. Flowers and plants everywhere made the whole place smell as wonderful as a dog park. I played with laughing children who chased me, and when Trent picked me up to take me outside to do my business I couldn’t wait to get back in.
CJ wore large folds of cloth so that there was a little room under there, too, though no food—just her legs. When I crawled under there my girl always giggled and reached in to pull me out. “Oh, Max, are you having fun?” CJ asked me after one such incident. She scooped me up and kissed me on the top of my head.
“He’s been running around like a maniac the whole time,” Trent said. “He’ll sleep like a log tonight.”
“Well … that’s good,” CJ said, and they both laughed.
“It’s a perfect day. I love you, CJ.”
“I love you, too, Trent.”
“You’re the most beautiful bride in the history of weddings.”
“You’re not so bad yourself. I can’t believe I get to be married to you.”
“For as long as you want. Forever. You’re my wife forever.”
They kissed, which they had been doing a lot, lately. I wagged.
“I got a message from Gloria,” CJ said finally, setting me down.
“Oh? Did she unleash the curse of the seven demons upon us and our lands?”
CJ laughed. “No, actually, for her it was pretty nice. She said she was sorry she had to boycott the wedding, but she knew I’d understand why.”
“I don’t understand,” Trent replied.
“It’s okay. She told me she was proud of me and that you’re a good catch and to have a wonderful wedding even though she’s not here. She also said her biggest regret was that she’d always thought she’d sing at my wedding.”
“Well, that’s not my biggest regret,” Trent said.
By the end of the day I was so full and so exhausted it was all I could do to wag my tail as people bent to kiss me and talk to me. I was held up to Hannah and I kissed her face, licking something sweet off her lips, my heart full of love for her.
“Good-bye, Max, you are such a sweet doggy,” Hannah said to me. “Such a good, good dog.”
I loved hearing those words come from Hannah’s mouth.
That winter CJ was able to take longer, quicker walks. Trent would still play with his rubber ball every day, sitting next to her and making hissing noises with it. How it never once occurred to him to throw it for me I will never understand.
“BP good,” Trent would usually say. In this instance “good” had nothing to do with “dog.” “You take your amino acids?”
“I’m so sick of this low-protein diet. I want a hamburger with a steak on top of it,” CJ told him.
We didn’t have Happy Thanksgiving that year, though one day it smelled like it throughout the whole building. Trent and CJ left me alone for several hours and when they came home the wonderful scents of Happy Thanksgiving were all over their clothes and hands. I sniffed them suspiciously. Could people even have Happy Thanksgiving without a dog? Seemed unlikely.
We did have Merry Christmas, though. Trent built a thing in the living room that smelled like my outside carpet and hung cat toys from it. When we tore open packages, mine had a delicious chew toy in it.
After Merry Christmas CJ started leaving me alone most of the day several days a week, but she never smelled like any of the other dogs, so I knew she wasn’t walking them without me.
“How were your classes today?” Trent would often ask on these days. She seemed happy to have left me alone, which made no sense. In my opinion, being without a dog should just make people sad.
I could tell, though, that sometimes she was feeling very weak and tired. “Look how puffy my face is!” she wailed to Trent.
“Maybe we should talk to the doctor about increasing your diuretics.”
“I spend all my time in the bathroom as it is,” she replied bitterly. I nuzzled her hand, but she didn’t take as much pleasure in the contact as I did. I so wanted her to feel the happiness that I fel
t whenever we touched each other, but people are more complicated creatures than dogs. We always love them joyfully, but sometimes they’re mad at us, like when I chewed the sad shoes.
One day my girl was very sad and when Trent came home she was sitting in the living room, looking out the window, with me in her lap. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
She started crying again. “It’s my kidneys,” she told him. “They said it’s just too dangerous for us to have children.”
Trent put his arms around her and they hugged. I pushed my nose in between them so that they both petted me. Trent was sad, too. “We could adopt. We adopted Max, didn’t we? Look how well that turned out.”
I wagged at my name, but CJ pushed him away.
“You can’t fix everything, Trent! I screwed up. This is the price we all have to pay because of it, okay? I don’t need you telling me everything is okay.” CJ stood up, dumping me on the floor, and stomped away. I trotted right at her heels, but when she got to the end of the hall she shut the door in my face. After a minute I turned and went back to Trent and jumped into his lap, because I needed comfort from him.
Sometimes people were angry at each other and it would have nothing to do with shoes. It was beyond a dog’s comprehension, but the love between my girl and her mate, Trent, I did understand. They spent many days holding each other on the couch and in bed and often sat with their heads nearly touching.
“You are the love of my life, CJ,” Trent would often say.
“I love you, too, Trent,” CJ would reply. The adoration between the two of them at moments like these made me wiggle with delight.
As much as I liked wearing my sweater, I was happiest when the air turned hot and moist. That year, though, CJ would sit on the balcony with blankets on and I could tell she was cold by the way she hugged me to her. I could feel her fading, losing strength, becoming more and more tired.
The woman named Mrs. Warren often came out onto her balcony next to ours to play with plants. “Hi, Mrs. Warren,” CJ would say.
“How are you feeling today, CJ, any better?” Mrs. Warren would reply.
“A little,” CJ usually told her.
I never saw Mrs. Warren anywhere but on her balcony, though I sometimes smelled her in the hallway. She did not have a dog.
“Look at my wrists; they’re all swollen,” CJ told Trent when he came home one afternoon.
“Honey, have you been out here in the sun all day?” he asked.
“I’m freezing.”
“You didn’t go to class?”
“What? What day is it?”
“Oh, CJ. I’m worried about you. Let me check your BP.”
Trent got his special ball out and I watched him alertly as he squeezed it, thinking maybe this time he’d let me have a turn with it.
“I think it’s probably time to talk about … about a more permanent treatment regimen.”
“I don’t want to do dialysis, Trent!”
“Honey, you’re the center of my universe. I’d die if anything happened to you. Please, CJ, let’s go to the doctor. Please.”
CJ went to bed early that night. Trent didn’t give me the command to pray when he fed me, but the odor on his breath was so strong I did it anyway. “Good dog,” Trent said in the way people will praise dogs without really even looking at them.
The next morning, just after Trent left, CJ fell down in the kitchen. One minute she was making a second trip from the balcony to the kitchen to fill a can of water and the next she toppled to the floor. I felt the crash through the pads in my feet and when I ran to her and licked her face she was unresponsive.
I whimpered, then barked. She didn’t move. Her breath smelled sickly and sour as she shallowly inhaled and exhaled.
I was frantic. I ran to the front door but could hear no one on the other side. I barked. Then I ran out on the balcony.
Mrs. Warren was kneeling, playing with her plants. I barked at her.
“Hello, Max!” she called to me.
I thought of my girl lying in the kitchen, unconscious and sick. I needed to communicate what was happening to Mrs. Warren. I pushed forward until my face was sticking out between the bars and I barked at her with such high urgency that a clear note of hysteria rang in my voice like a bell.
Mrs. Warren knelt there looking at me. I barked and barked and barked.
“What is it, Max?”
Hearing my name as a question, I turned and ran back into the apartment, so Mrs. Warren would know the problem was in there. Then I ran back out onto the balcony and barked some more.
Mrs. Warren stood up. “CJ?” she called tentatively, leaning out to try to see into our home.
I kept barking. “Shush, Max,” Mrs. Warren said. “Trent? CJ?”
I kept barking. Then Mrs. Warren shook her head, went to her door, opened it, and stepped inside. When she slid her door shut I was so dumbfounded I stopped barking.
What was she doing?
Whimpering, I dashed back in to my girl. Her breathing was getting weaker.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Though it was hopeless, I went to the door and desperately scratched at it. My nails carved a groove in the wood, but that was all. I was crying my fear, my voice shrill and brittle. Then I heard a noise on the other side, the sound of footfalls. I barked and put my nose to the crack at the bottom of the door and smelled Mrs. Warren and a man named Harry, who often carried tools with him in the hallway.
The door opened a crack. “Hello?” Harry called.
“CJ? Trent?” Mrs. Warren said. They cautiously pushed into the room. I headed toward the kitchen, looking over my shoulder to make sure they were following.
“Oh my God,” Mrs. Warren said.
A few minutes later some men came and put CJ on a bed and took her away. Mrs. Warren picked me up while this was happening, petting me and telling me I was a good dog, but my heart was pounding and I was sick with a frantic fear. Then she put me down and she and Harry and everyone left and I was alone in the place.
I fretfully paced back and forth, anxious and worried. The light faded and it was night and still CJ wasn’t home. I remembered her lying with her cheek pressed to the floor of the kitchen and the thought made me whimper.
When the door finally opened it was Trent. CJ was not with him.
“Oh, Max, I’m so sorry,” he said.
He took me for a walk and it was a relief to be able to lift my leg on some shrubbery. “We have to be there for CJ, now, Max. She isn’t going to like dialysis, but she has no choice. We have to do it. This could have been much, much worse.”
When CJ came home a few days later she was very tired and went right to bed. I curled up next to her, relieved and yet apprehensive about how sad and frustrated she seemed.
From that point forward, CJ and I would take a trip every few days in the back of a car that would pick us up out in front of our building. At first, Trent always went with us. We’d go to a room and lie there quietly while some people fussed over my girl. She always felt weak and ill when she arrived and was exhausted and sad when she got up off the couch, but I realized it was not the fault of the people who were bending over her, not even when they hurt her arm. I didn’t growl at them as I might have before.
The day after we went to this place was usually a good day for CJ. She felt stronger and happier.
“They say it will probably be years before I get a kidney,” CJ said one night. “There are just so few of them available.”
“Well, I was wondering what to buy you for your birthday,” Trent replied with a laugh. “I’ve got one just your size right here.”
“Don’t even think about it. I’m not taking yours or any other living person’s. I put myself in this position, Trent.”
“I only need one. The other one’s a spare; I hardly ever even use it.”
“Funny guy. No. I’ll get one from a cadaver eventually. There are some people who have gone twenty years on dialysis. It will happen when it happens.”
That winter CJ walked in the door one day with a plastic crate. I was astonished when she opened the door and out walked Sneakers! I rushed up to the cat, frankly excited to see her, and she arched her back and drew her ears back and hissed at me, so I skittered to a stop. What was wrong with Sneakers?
She spent the day sniffing around the apartment, while I followed her, trying to interest her in a little game of tug-on-a-toy. She would have nothing to do with me.
“How are Mrs. Minnick’s kids doing?” Trent asked at dinner.
“I think they’re feeling guilty. They hardly ever visited her, and then one day she was gone,” CJ said.
I watched Sneakers leap silently onto a counter and regard the kitchen disdainfully from her perch.
“What? What is it?” Trent said.
“I’m just thinking about Gloria. Is that how I’m going to feel? One day she’ll be gone and I’ll regret I didn’t make more of an effort?”
“Want to go see her? Invite her to come out?”
“Truthfully? I have no idea.”
“Just let me know.”
“You’re the best husband in the world, Trent. I’m so lucky.”
“I’m the lucky one, CJ. My whole life, I only really wanted one girl, and now she’s my wife.”
CJ stood and I leaped to my feet, though all she did was jump on Trent’s chair with him, pressing her face to his. They started to lean, falling sideways.
“Okay, be brave now,” CJ said as they slid off the chair and landed on the floor, laughing. Then they wrestled for a while. I looked over at Sneakers, who didn’t seem to care about anything at all, but what I felt between Trent and my girl was a love both powerful and complete.
Sneakers eventually became more affectionate. She might be walking through the room and then, without warning, would pad over to me and rub her head against my face, or lick my ears while I lay curled on the floor. But she never wanted to play any wrestling games like we used to. I couldn’t help but feel that the time she had spent without a dog in her life had been bad for her.
CJ and Trent spent cool evenings wrapped in a blanket together on the balcony and cold nights lying together on the couch. Sometimes CJ would put on nice-smelling shoes and they’d leave in the evening, but when they returned they were always happy—though even if she’d been sad I doubted I would have done anything to her shoes.
A Dog's Purpose Boxed Set Page 47
