by John Hunt
Frank lasted one truckload before he received an opportune phone call from a client demanding his immediate attention. The most surprising addition was the police showing up to her house. Davis and four of his cop friends showed up to help on a day off. So before three in the afternoon they emptied their old home of any evidence of their presence and filled up their new one, cluttering the house with cardboard boxes covered in tape labelled with black marker and furniture that hadn’t found a permanent spot.
After they unloaded the last of their belongings from the U-Haul truck, Harry fed the workers pizza and soda. They all relaxed in the living room, some on couches and chairs amidst cardboard boxes and unassembled furniture. Others stood, leaning against the wall while balancing the pizza and drinks in their hands. Olivia set up the iPod to the Bose speakers and they enjoyed the food, drinks and each other’s company while listening to music. Winter moseyed on towards spring. Between spaces of melting snow, spots of grass showed emerald. The sun hung around longer in the evening and like the new house, the season of renewal inspired hope.
The police, except for Detective Davis, left after pizza and Olivia and Harry thanked them for their help. Dale remained searching through the pizza boxes littering the table. Just one box had any slices left in it, the one covered with gross tomatoes and feta cheese. Dale crinkled his nose and Olivia caught it.
Olivia said, “Dad. What’s with this pizza? Did you ask for the least appetizing toppings or something?”
“It’s part of a deal. It’s like greek style or something.”
“It’s something alright.”
Dale and his parents left not long after the policemen. They had been discussing the renovations needed on the house and Dale offered to help when he could and even volunteered the labour of his dad.
Carl owned a trucking business and often drove the trucks himself for the long hauls State side. He didn’t have to but he liked to do it. He said it reminded him of the early days when he had just started up his business. And he told them he enjoyed the peace of the road to which Angela rolled her eyes and said while leaning to touch Olivia’s knee, “Peace of the road huh? You just want to get away from me for awhile.”
“Now honey-”
“I’m not complaining. I like the peace and quiet from you too.”
Dale said, “So how about it dad? You wanna help out or what?”
He glanced at Olivia and holding her gaze said, “Sure. Why not? I am a handy fellow.”
Dale said, “Yeah. Much better than me. I once screwed my shirt to a skateboard ramp I was building. It didn’t turn out like I hoped.”
Angela said, “You got that right. Didn’t you fall up it?”
Olivia said, “Wait a minute. You fell up a ramp?”
“It’s easier than you think when the bottom of the ramp isn’t level with the ground. I chipped a tooth.”
Olivia couldn’t help it. She laughed.
“Now that my embarrassment’s complete, I’ll take my leave.”
Angela stood and said, “It was great seeing you again, Olivia. I can’t tell you how happy I was to learn you were alive and home again.”
“Thank you,” said Olivia.
Carl said, “Have Frank give me a call. Get this renovation thing going. Despite what Angela says, something like that would keep me close to home, just the way she likes it.”
“Yes. I’m all aglow with excitement.”
They left, with promises to call and see-you-soon.
The silence between songs was broken by the dripping of the melting snow from the eavestroughs. The day proved warmer than forecast. When everyone was still here, Olivia opened up the back windows to let a breeze in. The cool air was refreshing at first, but soon turned cold. Olivia suppressed a chill. She wanted to close the window but the full belly and exhaustion of moving left her without the energy to do so.
She glanced at her dad, “You feeling cold, dad?”
“What?”
“Cause if you’re cold, you could close the window.”
“Do you want me to close the window?”
“If you’re cold and you were going to anyways then sure, that’d be nice.”
His eyebrows climbed his forehead. She wasn’t very subtle. He groaned, stood and closed the window. Slumped on the couch, almost lying down, Olivia smiled, triumphant.
She moved her eyes to Davis, “You feel good about Dale?”
“You tell me. You know both of them, the Jackal and Dale, better than I do. What’s your gut feeling?”
“Gut feeling? If I had any kind of gut feeling I would’ve sensed this madness and never would’ve been grabbed.”
Davis shook his head, “That’s not true. That’d be like trying to sense a lightning bolt. It’s like that whole guilt thing I see victims struggle with. If I only did this then that wouldn’t have happened. It did happen and you can’t change the past. You can bet your dad suffered guilt from that day, am I right?”
Harry said, “Oh yeah. Over stupid things, too. Things I knew I couldn’t change, just like you said.”
“Like what?” Olivia said.
“I kept thinking I should’ve convinced you to stay home another year, or go to a school closer to home so you could stay here. I felt, a lot of times, me losing you was my fault and I punished myself for it.”
Olivia grimaced, “That makes no sense. They were all my decisions. You couldn’t have done anything to change it.”
Davis said, “Guilt doesn’t have to make sense. It just is. Maybe it’s because we think we are in control when, in reality, we control so little. We are the star of our own movies and we all want a happy ending don’t we? Except we are not the directors, there is no script and all we can ever do is the best we can. Day to day.” He took a drink of Coke and said, “So, really, what do you think of Dale?”
Olivia shook her head, “Not him. I’ve thought about it. A lot. Dale is not as big as the Jackal and I don’t know, not as mature? The Jackal just feels older. Something about the way he moved and acted. I keep thinking about the relationship between Shawn and the Jackal too. I’m positive the Jackal was the leader. I just don’t see Dale as a strong enough personality to control and intimidate Shawn. Besides, I wouldn’t let him help me move if I thought he was the Jackal. He would know where I lived. I wouldn’t want to make it too easy on the prick.”
Davis laughed and said, “You’re an interesting person Olivia.”
“How so?”
“Other than the obvious you mean? Let’s just say I’ve dealt with and had the privilege to meet many victims. They carry the past on them like a back pack. Some people it weighs down, others carry it along, comfortable with it because it helped shape them to be the person they are. Those people realize they assign how much weight the backpack holds. They decide if it will bow their back or if they’ll straighten up underneath it. The trauma you’ve been through? It should have crushed you. It crushed Jen and after meeting Lucy, if she’d been in there as long as you and Jen were I’m sure it would’ve ruined her too. You though? You fought your way out of there and, from what I’ve seen, you continue to fight. Like I said, you’re very interesting. I’d hate to get on your bad side.” He stood and stretched and said, “I better get going. Looks like you guys still have a lot of work ahead of you.”
She followed him down the hallway and closed the door behind him. She liked him.
Her dad, sitting on the couch with a soda in hand said, “I think he likes you.”
He was oblivious to his daughter blushing in the shadows by the front door.
-26-
The security company installed the alarm the next day
. Olivia had to wait a week before they returned to install the video cameras. She wanted the cameras to cover all the sides of the house with the capability of recording. Olivia fiddled with the settings, learning how to adjust the camera angles and zoom features. They recorded in twenty-four hour intervals and the old footage was deleted to be replaced with the new. Olivia’s routine, after her father left for work, included checking the doors and then sitting down before the computer and reviewing the footage from the night before. Satisfied no one had crept upon the property, Olivia busied herself with unpacking boxes and studying the layout of the house, thinking of ways to improve it. The windows were large and allowed plenty of natural light. Inside though, the rooms were small and cramped. Olivia wanted to open the place up. She would ask Frank about what walls could be safely brought down. She made notes about her ideas and when Harry returned at night, they reviewed them together.
They invited Frank out the first weekend. He declined. He said he would be out of town on business. Sunday evening, when the fading light brought shadows to the property, Olivia spoke to her dad about phase three of her plan. She was nervous about it. She was aware of Harry’s feelings on the matter since she was a small child. She needed it, though, to feel safe and hoped she could convince her dad of it. It would go a long way to helping her heal.
Harry reclined on the love-seat with the top button of his pants undone after the second helping of dessert he didn’t need, eyes heavy, watching Sports Centre. Olivia chewed a nail, with her iPad on her lap, a photo of the impending discussion on the screen.
“Dad?”
“Yeah, honey?”
“Remember how I talked about three stages to a plan I had?”
“Yeah.”
“I want to start it. Phase three.”
“Ok. What do you need?”
“I uh, want a dog. I want to train it. I want it to guard me.”
Harry hadn’t spoken of it much but she knew he nursed a healthy terror of dogs. She had pestered him as a child for a puppy and he had always said no. No arguments she used and no amount of tears could weaken his resolve. Intermittently over the years, when she would see a puppy jumping to lick the face of a child, she would ask Harry for a puppy. He would say no. She had asked him why, curious as to why he would deny her this when he denied her little else. He told her when he was a kid one of his friends had been mauled by a lab, the most gentle of breeds. His friend lost the use of an eye. Harry had seen the attack and ever since then the mere presence of a dog filled him with a nervous anxiety. He walked wide around them, even the little ones. The furry beasts terrified him. After she learned of it, she let it go. She never wanted to be the cause of her dad’s discomfort and at the time, realized it was a selfish goal and not worth pursuing. The thought of wanting a dog had never crossed her mind since. After being taken and being shown how helpless she could be, her mind turned to ways in which to improve her safety. She considered taking judo or jiu jitsu. She had read those martial arts use the opponents weight against them and a smaller person such as herself, with good technique, could overcome someone larger and of superior strength. She would have to leave the house to do it, which was bad. And it took years to become proficient in the arts and with the Jackal out there she didn’t think she had the time, which was worse. Thinking on it more, it didn’t matter how good she became because her success would depend on her attacker not carrying a weapon of some sort. A dog though, a dog could be trained to attack those who would do her harm, a dog would love her and defend her and it would give her something to love and want to defend in return. The dog wouldn’t have to go to work and leave for hours. Its job was to be with her and to be her friend. It wouldn’t care about her missing fingers, toes or ear. It wouldn’t care she had been raped and imprisoned. It would only care about her. Knowing her dad’s terror, a part of her felt shame for even asking. He would be living here too, in terror, like she had been. She believed after living with a dog and seeing how well it could be trained and be a useful part of the family, he could overcome that fear.
Harry tensed. His eyes widened slightly and his throat moved making the struggle to digest the request visible.
“What kind of dog are we talking here? A chihuahua? A furry alarm that could fit in a purse.”
Trying to make a joke? Whatever she expected, him attempting to make light of it wasn’t it.
“No. A german shepherd. Like the dogs the police use.”
“Oh boy,” Harry said. He rubbed a hand along his lip. Uh-oh, thought Olivia, I got him wanting a drink. Guilt overcame her.
“You know dad? Let’s forget it. Stupid idea, you know?”
Harry coughed and rubbed his hands together. He said, “No honey. It’s a brilliant idea. I think we should do it.”
“Dad, c’mon. Look at you. You look like you want to vomit.”
“I did. A little bit. I swallowed it back.” He offered a shaky smile and said, “I’ll get over it. It’ll help keep you safe. I’ll feel better going to work and not leaving you so alone.”
“Dad. We can think of something else. I know too much stress brings on the urge to drink. You being sober is more important to me. You’ve done a wonderful job and I don’t want to ruin it.”
“You know what I learned in AA?”
“What’s that?”
“I’ll always want to drink. Always. I’ve got my own personal storm cloud hovering above me ready to rain down at any time, for any reason. This fear of dogs? It’s in my head. I know it and I can beat it. Not every dog attacks kids and people. If that were the case, who the hell would bother to own one? I also know I can’t lose you again. I’m not strong enough and if this will improve your chances of continuing to live a life free of fear, then fucking right we’re going to do it. And we’ll get the meanest, ugliest bastard of a dog out there.”
“Okay. And thanks dad. I think this’ll be great.”
He bared teeth. Although he meant it as a smile Olivia thought it strained. Guilt worried her stomach. She pushed it away. Her dad could overcome his fear and who knows? Maybe he would eventually love the dog. She would get a cute little puppy because who doesn’t love a puppy? People with no soul that’s who. With a little training of the dog and her dad, Olivia believed everything would work out fine.
. . .
Olivia did her research. It kept her busy and her nagging fears in check. A good thing, lasting until the sun’s rays drew lengthening shadows in the backyard, a prelude to inevitable darkness. What she learned wasn’t heartening. Pure bred dogs were expensive. A popular breed, the german shepherd proved to be exorbitant. Ranging from five to eight thousand dollars for an untrained pup! After buying the new house and the cost of renovations, Harry didn’t have the money and she couldn’t expect her dad to fork out more. She turned her questing fingers to perusing internet sites for rescue dogs. The prices were much more affordable. Still, in her mind she pictured a majestic german shepherd patrolling the property, keen senses probing for danger. In her vision she pictured it wearing a cape. German shepherds didn’t show up on the rescue sites too often. She had trouble finding one. As the week passed her disappointment grew.
During this time, Frank and Carl popped in to take measurements or run ideas past her. Dale showed up with his dad at times, admitting to her all this stuff hurt his brain. He wasn’t geared towards working with his hands and grudgingly admired Frank and his dad. They made the work look easy. Frank learned soon enough Olivia was the one making decisions and stopped bothering to call Harry when a question arose. He would talk to her and then to Carl. Olivia could see by Frank deigning to consult with Carl that Dale’s dad knew what he was doing. Supplies were routinely dropped on the driveway and Harry was left with the task of bringing them in and putting them where Frank directed so
they would be ready for installation at some date in the future. Harry would arrive home after work and groan at the stacks of wood or drywall on the driveway, rubbing at his lower back before the work could even strain his muscles. A sympathetic gesture for the burden his muscles would soon be subjected to. Olivia always helped him and couldn’t help but tease him and his ‘old man’ back.
After one of the many onerous trips back to the driveway and into the house with a length of drywall, Olivia stumbled upon a photo of a dog at a not-so-local shelter. A pure bred german shepherd named Brutus. In the description the dog was of shy temperament and had been abandoned by previous owners. The picture showed the dog curled in a ball at the back of the cage. His brown eyes showed over the tops of his paws. So sad. Maybe it was the sad look in the eyes or the fact the dog appeared so lost and trapped in a cage, whatever the reason, Olivia’s vision blurred and it shocked her to realize the simple image had evoked such a response. She would have this dog. She glanced at the posting. Brutus arrived at the shelter three days ago. Would he still be there? She shivered at the thought he may be gone. Three days is a long time. Especially for a pure bred german shepherd. She glanced at the time. 6:17pm. The shelter closed at 9:00pm. About an hour away. They could make it.
She dialled the number for the shelter, heart in her throat and she actually tittered when they told her Brutus hadn’t been adopted yet. She said they could be there in an hour. Her heart swelled with excitement. This? This felt right. Perfect even.
Harry dropped the drywall behind her with a curse. It slipped out of his hands and he chipped the corner when it struck the floor. He was frowning until he saw the smile on Olivia’s face.
. . .
When they arrived at the shelter, the man who greeted them behind the counter had a celebrity gossip magazine open in his lap and a can of Coca-Cola in his hand. He offered a smile and stood. Large, with a florid, friendly face, he extended a beefy hand and introduced himself as Mark. He paused, noticing her missing fingers but it was a slight pause making it easy for Olivia to deal with because it was over so quick.
