The dog curled up on the passenger seat as Hana drove out of the neighborhood. It was a five-minute drive to the local supermarket. Leaving the puppy in the car with the windows cracked open, Hana bought several types of dry dog food, cans of processed food, a metal bowl, a red collar, a nylon leash, and an orange chew toy. Returning, she found the puppy still curled up on the seat. His nose twitched and he let out a quick bark when she placed the bags of dog food in front of him on the floor of the car.
Once home, Hana poured a generous portion of dry food into a metal bowl. The puppy noisily munched the nuggets, which was a relief because Hana didn’t relish the odor of canned dog food. When he finished, the dog trotted to the front door of the house and scratched. Hana put the collar around his neck and attached the leash. They went outside, and the puppy promptly did his business in the grass a couple of feet from the door. Inside, the little dog flipped over onto his back and wiggled back and forth on an area rug that covered part of the living room floor. His actions reminded Hana that she didn’t know if there was a prohibition in her lease regarding pets.
Hana kept her important papers in an antique desk. Pulling out the lease, she found what she was looking for on page 3 beneath the heading “Pets.” By the end of the paragraph, she knew there was no problem having a bird in a cage, but the presence of a dog or a cat on the premises triggered a hefty deposit. Hana knew it would be the first of many costs if she began the adventure of pet ownership.
The dog had moved from wiggling on the rug to sniffing every piece of furniture. Hana knelt down and scratched his belly. The dog was adorable. Hana’s heart melted, and her head surrendered. However, before adopting him she knew she should post flyers on the telephone poles beneath the rabid fox notices and ask if anyone had lost a black-and-white puppy. She took a photo of the dog on her phone and printed out the flyers. Twenty minutes later, she returned to the house, finding the dog asleep. He popped up when she entered, gave a sharp bark, and wiggled excitedly in greeting.
“What will I call you?” Hana asked as the dog barked again, softer this time.
Hana knelt and scratched the puppy behind his ears. She smiled as inspiration came. “Leon,” she said. “I’m sure Mr. Lowenstein won’t mind letting you borrow his name.”
After spending a couple of hours researching terrorist networks through both English- and Russian-language portals, Jakob logged off his computer. He’d located another reference to Gloria Neumann’s murder originating in Chechnya. The writer of the blog extolled the brave acts of Abdul and Tawfik Zadan and called for the death of “all Jews and other infidel dogs.” However, once again, the comment was by an individual who didn’t claim any allegiance or membership to a group.
To relax in the evenings, Jakob usually watched soccer on TV. He subscribed to a service that let him follow matches in the English Premier League, Spanish La Liga, German Bundesliga, Italian Serie A, Russian Premier League, and US Major League Soccer. Jakob kept his Russian comprehension sharp by listening to the fast-talking announcers. He didn’t understand Spanish or Italian, but when a player in those leagues scored a goal, the announcers celebrated with the enthusiasm usually reserved for a winning lottery ticket.
Spartak Moscow was a perennial contender for the national championship, and tonight was a big match between Spartak and CSKA Moscow, another powerful squad. Jakob knew the names of all the starting players on both teams. Because the game was broadcast on delay, he had to resist the urge to check online for the eventual winner.
He ate a bite of pizza and propped up his feet on a small table. His black leather couch was positioned perfectly in front of the massive video screen mounted on the wall. Sound bombarded him from multiple angles in the room and produced a realistic experience of being present in the stadium. The fans for the teams were yelling familiar chants.
Jakob’s phone lit up with an incoming call. It was Butch Watson.
“Jakob, the twins are here!”
“Congratulations. Is everyone okay?”
“Yeah, awesome. One boy is six pounds ten ounces, and the other is six pounds four ounces. Can you believe Nelle was carrying that much beef around in her belly?”
Jakob didn’t want to go where Butch’s description beckoned him. The last time Jakob saw Nelle, he’d wondered how the petite blonde could walk upright without tipping over.
“That’s amazing,” Jakob said and pumped his fist as the goalie for Spartak knocked away a shot. “Thanks for calling.”
Butch continued, “They were born this morning, and I’ve not been able to get away from the hospital since then. Nelle’s parents are supposed to be here to help out, but they’ve been delayed until tomorrow. I hate to ask you to do this, but a four-hundred-dollar baby monitoring system was delivered to our house thirty minutes ago, and I’m worried somebody might swipe it if it’s left outside the door. We’ve lost a couple of packages to thieves recently.”
“Did you file a police report?”
“Yeah, but you know how that goes. Is there any way you could run over there and put it inside the apartment for us? I tracked the delivery and confirmed it’s there. I’d go over myself, but when one of the boys is asleep the other one is wide awake. The nurses want us to start getting used to double trouble from the beginning.”
Butch and Nelle lived twenty minutes away from Jakob’s new apartment, in a much sketchier neighborhood.
“Sure,” Jakob replied. “I was just watching soccer on TV, but I can take a break.”
“Thanks. You know where we hide the spare key, right?”
“Behind the holly bush at the corner of the building?”
“Yeah. Thanks a bunch. Nelle is really worried about the monitoring stuff.”
“I’m on my way,” Jakob said. “I’ll text you when I’ve put it inside.”
Jakob walked quickly down three flights of steps to the underground garage where he parked his car.
Four blocks south of his apartment complex the neighborhoods deteriorated and then improved for several blocks before going back down again, revealing the uneven nature of city renewal. Built in the 1940s, the apartments where Butch and Nelle lived would probably be slated for destruction within a few years. The Watsons’ unit was at the back side of the complex. Jakob pulled in beside Nelle’s minivan. Someone had tied two blue balloons to one of the side mirrors to welcome the babies. Jakob took a quick picture of the balloons on his phone and sent it to Butch.
Jakob identified the holly bush, squeezed behind it, and dug through the pine needles in the dark until he found a tiny metal box that contained Butch’s spare key. He walked up the steps to the apartment. A large cardboard box covered the welcome mat. Unlocking the door, he placed the box inside. It was bulky but not very heavy.
The inside of the apartment was chaotic, probably due to a quick departure for the hospital. Jakob checked the kitchen. The sink overflowed with dirty dishes. There wasn’t a dishwasher in the unit, and he concluded that Butch and Nelle had better find a new place to live fast.
Jakob filled the sink with hot soapy water and began to wash the dishes. He spent the next thirty minutes cleaning the kitchen, including running a mop over the floor. He kept his own apartment meticulously clean. Butch’s law office was always a mess, and neither he nor Nelle valued tidiness at home. Maybe that would make them the perfect parents for twins. When he finished, Jakob moved the box into the living room. There were piles of clean clothes on the couch, but he left them where they lay. He wasn’t going to fold Butch’s underwear.
Leaving the apartment, Jakob locked the door and stepped to the top of the stairway. The security light was out, and he had to feel his way forward a couple of steps. Suddenly, everything went black.
CHAPTER 10
When Hana slipped out of bed to pray in the middle of the night, Leon groaned and twitched but didn’t wake up. When she returned an hour later, he’d inched his way up the bed and buried his head beneath the edge of her pillow. She gently moved him to the
side. Listening to his breathing, she lay awake longer than usual. She woke up with a start when a wet tongue licked her left cheek. Leon let out a good-morning bark. Slipping on a robe, Hana took him outside on his leash and then filled his food bowl before brewing a cup of coffee. Checking her email, she found she hadn’t received any responses to the notices she’d posted on the telephone poles.
In the light of a new day there were plans to implement if she was going to keep a pet. While she drank her coffee, she checked dog boarders in the area and quickly discovered admittance was contingent on proof of up-to-date vaccinations and a certification of health from a veterinarian. She fired off a quick email to Mr. Collins and Mr. Lowenstein letting them know she would be a few hours late to work to attend to a personal matter but would make up the time before the end of the week. She sent a second email to Janet informing her of what was really going on.
Four hours later, Hana dropped off a disgruntled Leon, still pouting at the insult of multiple needles piercing his skin, at a pricey day boarder for dogs. The vet informed Hana that the rescued animal had a multi-limbed family tree, which included doses of golden retriever, Saint Bernard, Labrador, and other yet-to-be discerned breeds that would result in a full-grown animal weighing at least eighty pounds.
“He wasn’t living in the woods very long,” the vet said after he’d examined Leon. “It’s a good thing he found you. A puppy this young would only last a few days.”
Hana looked into Leon’s soulful eyes that seemed filled with unspoken gratitude.
“But he’s healthy,” the vet continued. “No hip problems or anything else I can see. There’s a lot to be said for hybrid vigor.”
Armed with free pamphlets and proof of vaccinations in her purse, Hana filled out paperwork at the dog boarder, which seemed more like a preschool for kids than a kennel for dogs. She passed on the invitation for a free tour and quickly left with an app loaded on her phone that would allow her to watch Leon throughout the day. It was almost noon when she arrived at the office.
“You’re a mommy!” Janet exclaimed when Hana appeared.
“Quiet!” Hana held her index finger to her lips. “That sounds wrong.”
“You may as well be,” Janet replied in a loud whisper. “First, a cute little girl falls in love with you, and now you have a puppy! Your world is getting a lot more crowded in a beautiful way. Did you take a bunch of pictures of the dog? I want to see them.”
“Of course! I can even show you what he’s doing right now.”
Within thirty seconds, she and Janet had their heads close together watching Leon play with a rope chew toy. He was sucking the frayed ends like a baby’s pacifier.
“He’s adorable,” Janet said. “I totally get why you fell for him. He looks a lot like a dog our family owned when I was a child. We called him Buddy. Have you named your pup?”
Hana glanced over her shoulder before replying. “Leon,” she whispered.
Janet’s eyes widened. “In honor of Mr. Lowenstein? Are you going to tell him?”
“Maybe,” Hana answered slowly.
The phone on Hana’s desk buzzed, and she quickly stepped into her office to answer it.
“Ben Neumann calling,” the receptionist said.
Before answering, Hana clicked open the calendar on her computer so she could schedule the ice cream date.
“I’m calling about Jakob Brodsky,” Ben began. “He was mugged last night and is in the hospital.”
Hana didn’t know the meaning of “mugged” except that it was clearly bad. “What happened?” she asked.
“He was attacked and robbed. His receptionist told me when I called the office a few minutes ago.”
“Attacked and robbed?” Hana repeated as she absorbed the news.
“Yes, but I don’t know the extent of his injuries.” Ben paused. “He’s in Piedmont Hospital. I’m going to try to see him, but it’s going to be tough because I don’t have a babysitter for Sadie.”
“Thanks for letting me know,” Hana replied. “Please keep me updated.”
“Will do.”
No matter where a person lived, the world could, in a split second, become a dangerous, life-threatening place. Hana delivered the news to Janet.
“I’ll find out what happened,” Janet responded. “I have a close friend who works with the Atlanta Police Department. She can pull the incident report and fill me in on the details.”
“Where does the word ‘mugging’ come from?”
“I have no idea about the history of the word,” Janet answered. “Except that it means a person has been assaulted and sometimes robbed in a public place.”
Hana spent the next three hours working on matters assigned to her by Mr. Collins. It was mentally taxing as she jumped back and forth between English, Hebrew, and Arabic. When she finally took a break, she logged on to the app for the doggie day care and checked on Leon. He was in a pen with two other puppies. The youngsters were chasing each other in happy circles. Janet appeared in her doorway.
“I heard back from my friend at the APD. Brodsky was attacked at an apartment complex not far from the midtown area. The file indicates he suffered head injuries from ‘blunt force trauma.’ No one has been arrested.”
“How serious was the head injury?”
“Undetermined. Piedmont Hospital isn’t far from where you live. Are you thinking about visiting him?”
“No, I’ve only met him twice and barely know him. I don’t think it would be proper for me to do that.”
“Proper? This is America. You can do whatever you like.”
Janet returned to her desk, and Hana resumed working on a highly technical specification sheet that all parties to a multinational agreement had to approve. By five o’clock she felt like she’d worked eight hours when in fact she’d billed only five and a half. She considered pushing on into the night, but the new responsibility for Leon made her hesitate. If she picked the dog up later than six o’clock, she had to pay an extra service charge.
“You were really grinding away in there today,” Janet said. “Did you generate a lot of work for me?”
“Not until you learn how to type on an Arabic keyboard.”
“That’s a steep learning curve for a girl who grew up in Portland, Maine.” Janet’s computer screen went blank. “Are you going by the hospital to see Jakob Brodsky?”
“You think I should?”
“Yeah. I’m not saying God told me or anything, but I can’t get it out of my mind.”
Hana hesitated. “I have to pick up Leon and buy a few more things. No one has come forward to claim him.”
“Sure, that’s your first priority.”
With a new metal kennel wedged in the back seat of her car, Hana pulled into the parking lot for the doggie day care center. Any concerns she’d had about Leon recognizing her or not wanting to leave his new friends evaporated when she saw him. His entire body began to wiggle and shake, causing the young girl who was leading him to laugh out loud.
“He knows his mama,” the girl said.
“You’re the second person to say that to me today,” Hana responded with a smile. “I guess it must be true.”
It was less than a ten-minute drive to Hana’s house. On the way, she could see one of the taller buildings of the Piedmont Hospital complex over a low hill. She offered up a quick prayer for Jakob Brodsky. At home, she set up Leon’s kennel near the front door. The dog sniffed it and then went into the bedroom and whined until Hana lifted him onto the bed.
“This is temporary,” Hana warned as the dog curled into a furry ball on the bedspread and immediately fell asleep after his busy day.
Jakob dutifully answered the questions posed to him by the nurse practitioner who worked for his treating neurologist. She’d spent close to an hour administering a battery of tests that fatigued Jakob more than he wanted to admit.
“I feel a lot better,” Jakob said confidently. “Would you check with Dr. Bedford about releasing me in the morni
ng? I don’t want to spend another day in the hospital.”
“I’ll mention it to him along with the results of my testing, which show ongoing deficits in higher reasoning skills.”
“Deficits?” Jakob shot back. “I answered every question correctly, didn’t I?”
“I’ll note your compliance and best efforts,” the nurse answered cryptically. “We have a good picture of your current status that I hope will steadily improve.”
“What do I need to do to improve?” Jakob asked in frustration.
“Rest and take your medication, Mr. Brodsky. You suffered three significant blows to the head. The one near your right temple could have been life-threatening.”
Even through the bandages, Jakob could feel the three knots on the right side of his skull. He remembered nothing from the attack and could only vaguely recall talking to the officer who took a statement from him shortly after he arrived at the hospital. Two of the blows had required stitches to stop the bleeding. The third created an area of massive swelling that was creeping toward Jakob’s eye. He shifted his head and turned it slightly. A searing pain caused him to wince.
“I guess I’m going to lose this argument,” he said.
“There’s nothing to argue about,” the nurse replied. “You’ll be kept under observation here at the hospital until we’re sure the intracranial swelling goes down and know you’re not at risk for a seizure or other severe reaction.”
Jakob remembered a lawsuit he’d filed a couple of years earlier that involved a construction worker who fell from a defective scaffold and landed on his head.
“I’ve represented clients with traumatic brain injuries who experienced personality changes. Do you think I’m at risk for that sort of thing?”
“We don’t have a baseline for purposes of comparison. Those types of problems don’t usually manifest immediately. If you notice any changes, or if friends or family members observe differences, mention it to Dr. Bedford.”
Chosen People Page 9
