by E. C. Bell
“So did I.”
He almost closed the car door, then stopped. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” I asked. If anyone should have apologized, it was me.
“For yelling about you looking for another job. You can take whatever job you want. I was being an ass.”
“I don’t want the other job.” I spoke in a rush, to get all the words out before I did something stupid, again. “I really don’t. I’d much rather work with you. If that’s all right.”
“It’s absolutely all right.” He smiled, and he pointed at a to-go cup in the holder by my left hand. “I brought you coffee.”
Then he shut the door, and I was momentarily alone with furious Eddie.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this moving on shit?” he asked. “Why did I have to wait for Noreen to clue me in?”
“Noreen?” I grabbed my coffee and popped the top, breathing in the excellent scent and hoping this wouldn’t turn into one of those horrible three-way conversations that never seemed to go my way. I watched James walk slowly around the front of the car and knew we had only moments before he was in. “Can we talk later? Please?”
“Yeah,” he said, surprising me a lot. “I want your full attention. Because I need some real answers out of you.”
“Thanks,” I breathed.
“I’m not doing it for you,” he replied shortly. He sat back in the seat with his arms folded over his chest as James opened his door and got in.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
I pulled the sheet of paper out of my pocket and read off the address of the dog park, where Veronica had last seen her dog.
“She said the dog just took off over a hill and never came back,” I said. “I’m honestly not sure how we are going to find him. Her.”
“We’ll start there,” James said, pulling the car into traffic. “How’s the coffee?”
“Excellent.” I smiled at him. “Thanks.”
“What breed are we looking for?”
“A lab,” I said. “A black lab. Her name is Gypsy.” I looked down at the sheet of paper with my drunken writing scrawled all over it. “She has a red collar, with a heart shaped dog tag. At least, that’s what Veronica told me.”
“You talked to her last night?”
“Apparently.”
“You drinking again?”
I stiffened. Whether I had a couple of drinks was none of his business. “Just a couple. Why?”
“I can smell it on you.”
“And?”
“You seem to be doing that a lot, lately.”
“And?” I felt my anger build, and behind it, my stupid headache.
“Nothing. Just an observation.” He changed lanes, then glanced over at me. “Any particular reason?”
“No.” I looked out my side window, so I didn’t have to look at him. “Just felt like it.”
“All right.”
Even though his voice sounded neutral, I was certain I heard judgment in it. God! People judged about everything. I took another sip of coffee and watched the streets blur by. I was tired of always having to explain my every action to everybody. Why couldn’t they all just leave me alone?
Because I pulled them into my ridiculous schemes, with my drunk calling and other stuff. That’s why. I morosely buried my face in my coffee and tried to bury the nasty thoughts, hoping we’d get to the dog park fast.
Luckily, both the guys in the car left me alone. The dead one because he was super pissed with me for not giving him enough information about moving on, even though I was sure I had. And the live one? I hazarded a glance at him. He didn’t look pissed, but he had been the night before.
I hoped we’d find the dog quickly. We seriously needed one in the win column, even if we were working for a twelve-year-old.
Eddie:
Playing at the Dog Park
EVEN THOUGH I was pissed at Marie, that dog thing was something to watch, I must say.
I was going to stay in the car, but there was a bunch of dogs running around, sniffing the air and each other’s butts, and looking like they were having such a good time, I decided what the hell and went out into the middle of the field to watch them.
Funny. Didn’t know dogs could feel when a ghost is around, but I learned the hard way. Caused a bit of a dog pile as they all rushed over to me, which caused a couple of fights. It wasn’t even the big dogs that started snapping and snarling, it was the little guys. A Jack Russell terrier ran up, peed in the general direction of my leg, and hit a big bull mastiff, which ruffled his feathers. Both owners called their animals with angry looks that told everyone there they felt if the other owner had just bothered to teach their dog any manners whatsoever, this unfortunate incident wouldn’t have happened.
I moved away from the dog pile as the owners sorted things out. I was looking for Marie, but when I saw that the dogs were following me again, decided what the hell and led them all on a merry chase around the field. Probably looked funny as hell, a pack of dogs chasing absolutely nothing, but it was fun. The sun hit my face, warming me, and the dogs barked and ran behind me, sounding like they were having as much fun as I was. Then they dropped off, one by one, as owners regained control, until I was left alone.
I heard Marie calling “Hey, Gypsy? Come here girl!” over and over again, in a small grove of trees, and jogged in her direction.
Then her voice changed. “Oh, Gypsy,” she said, and the sadness oozed through those words until I didn’t want to see what she’d found. Thought about turning and walking back to the other dogs, all out running around enjoying the hell out of life, and leaving Marie with her dog and the death that seemed to follow that girl wherever she went.
But I didn’t. I walked over to her, even as James smashed through the underbrush from the other direction, calling, “Marie, are you all right?”
My guess was, she wasn’t all right. Not at all.
Marie:
Moving On Gypsy
I FOUND GYPSY in the creek that meandered through the trees at the back of the dog park. It looked like she’d drowned. I hoped for a second that it wasn’t Gypsy, until I saw the collar. Red, with a heart-shaped ID tag. I’d found Veronica’s dog.
I heard soft growling coming from the thick brush by the creek. I glanced over, afraid for a second that I was dealing with another dog, or maybe a wild animal. Then, I saw the aura. And the red collar.
It was Gypsy’s spirit, still hanging around her body.
Eddie skittered up to me, and I noticed a half-smile on his face.
“Having fun?” I asked.
“Some,” he said. “But you’re still not off the hook.” He pointed at the carcass in the creek. “Gypsy?”
“Yep.” Then I pointed to the bush. “And there’s that.”
Eddie bent and stared for a long moment at the glowing figure of the dog crouched in the thick underbrush.
“Ghost dog,” he said, rather unnecessarily. “Cool. Can I keep her?”
“No,” I whispered.
“I’m just kidding,” he said. “Mostly. Looks like she doesn’t want to have anything to do with me.”
He held out his hand to the spirit, as if to prove his point. The dog ignored him completely. She was staring at me, and then she began to creep out of the underbrush, haunches shaking, and the hair on the nape of her neck standing upright.
“She looks scared.”
“She is,” I said, holding my hand out to the ghost dog. “She doesn’t understand what’s happened. Do you, girl?”
A ghostly whine from the dog, and a flick of her tail. She took a couple more tentative steps toward me, but stopped just out of my reach. She dropped onto her stomach, right by the creek where her body lay, and huffed out a sigh as she rested her head on her front paws.
James blundered closer, and the ghost dog tensed, looking like she was going to run away.
“It’s okay,” I said softly. “You’re safe.”
My voice seemed to calm her, but I was afraid that a
ll the noise James was making as he smashed through the underbrush would scare her off.
“James,” I said softly. “I’m over here.”
“You all right?” he called.
“I found her.”
He stopped. “Is she—?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?” He started walking toward me again, but much more slowly this time, as if he didn’t want to see. I didn’t blame him, much. Dead dogs are sad, sad things. Just about as sad as dead people.
“Am I sure she’s dead?” I asked.
“No,” he replied, finally pushing through the underbrush and out into the small opening where we were. “Are you sure it’s Gypsy?”
I glanced over at the spirit of the dog, who had lifted her head and was watching James come toward us. “Pretty sure.”
“Darn it.”
James walked up beside me, then squatted. The ghost dog didn’t move. We all sat, a silent tableau in front of the carcass. The ghost dog put her chin back on her front paws, still waiting.
“I guess you better call Veronica,” James said. “Unless you want me to do it.”
“Please,” I said, keeping my eyes on the spirit of the dog. I didn’t know why, but I did not want her to run away before Veronica got there. It was important.
James stood and pulled his cell phone out, flipped it open, then frowned. “No bars.”
“We’re in a gully,” I said. “Try out in the open.”
“Should she come and, you know, identify her?”
“Yes.”
He disappeared from sight. The dog still hadn’t moved.
“So what’s going to happen now?” Eddie asked.
“I would imagine Veronica’s going to cry a lot,” I replied.
“But what about her?” Eddie pointed at the ghost dog, who looked as though she was thinking about going to sleep.
“I don’t know.”
“Will she go with her master?”
“I don’t know, Eddie.”
“Well, she can’t just stay here.” He began pacing back and forth. “That wouldn’t be right. You need to do something.”
I stared at him. “Like what?”
“Help her move on. You know, to the next area of living or whatever—”
“Next plane of existence.” I shook my head. “I don’t think I can do that with a dog.”
“Well, you can’t just leave her here! And there’s nobody else who can help her.”
The ghost dog lifted her head and cocked one ear, as though she was listening to what we were saying. Eddie pointed at her.
“See?” he said. “Even she thinks you should do something. And she’s a dog, for God’s sake!”
“Maybe it’s like you said, Eddie. Maybe she’ll follow Veronica home,” I said. Eddie’s face spasmed, like I’d slapped him.
“That’s not good enough, Marie. She died here. She’ll come back. You know that. You need to help her move on.”
“Eddie, if I could, I would,” I said, glancing in the direction James had gone, to see if he was coming back. The last thing I needed was for him to catch me talking to a dead dog.
This seemed to infuriate Eddie.
“Why the hell don’t you clue him in to what you can do?” he cried. The ghost dog shuffled as though she was going to get up, maybe even run away.
“Lie down, Gypsy,” I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could, even though absolutely everything Eddie was saying was upsetting as hell. I couldn’t let the spirit of the dog run away. “It’s okay. Everything’s all right.”
“No, it’s not!” Eddie whispered. “You gotta do the right thing. That dog is dead. Her ghost is going to be trapped in these frigging woods forever if you don’t do something. So do it, already. Don’t be such a bitch about this stuff.”
I blinked. “I’m not trying to be a bitch, Eddie. Really I’m not. I don’t know how to move a dog’s spirit on. I’m sorry.”
“Well, Jesus, can’t you even try?” He choked on sudden tears. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” I snapped. “Just leave me alone.”
The dog lifted her head and growled, just a tiny note in her throat, but enough to let us both know she was getting upset.
“Help her,” Eddie whispered. “Please.”
James picked that moment to come back to us. “Got her,” he said, holding the cell phone up as though it was a prize. “She’s coming down. Should I go meet her?”
“That’d be good,” I said.
“What does she look like?”
“No clue, James.” I shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Oh, yeah,” he replied, and shuffled his feet as though embarrassed. Then he took another small step toward me, and the dead dog tensed. “Want to come with? You don’t have to stay here. We’ll be able to find the spot again.”
“Just go get her, James,” I said. “I’m not leaving Gypsy alone.” He nodded and walked back out into the sunshine, and then he was gone.
“So, what are you gonna do?” Eddie asked.
I sat, staring at the spirit of the dog, and thought. Hard. Could it actually work the same way with an animal? With the spirit of an animal? Would they actually move on, like a human?
I didn’t know, but Eddie was right. I had to try to do something. I couldn’t leave her here, all by herself. That would be more than cruel. I stood, my knees popping.
“I’ll try,” I said. “All right, Eddie? I’m not guaranteeing a thing, but I will try. If she lets me get close to her.”
I looked over at the ghost dog, wondering if she would let me near her. She’d stopped growling, but was sitting upright, looking as though she was waiting for something—or someone—to walk into the woods.
“I bet she’s waiting for Veronica,” Eddie said. “Dogs do that, don’t they? Wait for their masters?”
“You’re right,” I said, then turned back to the dog. “Is that it, Gypsy?” I asked. “You waiting for Veronica?”
The dog wagged her tail and cocked one ear, as though she understood what I was saying.
“Wow,” Eddie muttered. “You’re like a dog ghost whisperer or something.”
“Yeah,” I replied, back down on my haunches and desperately trying to concentrate. “That’s exactly what I am. Can we all just be quiet for a minute, so I can think, please? I have to figure out how to do this—”
“What if she doesn’t move on on her own?”
“Then I’ll help her,” I said, my lips tight. “Though I’d rather not have to do anything in front of Veronica.”
“Veronica. Yeah. Right.” Eddie shook his head. “I’m thinking it’s James you’re more worried about. What is the deal between you two, anyhow? Don’t you talk?”
“We talk. We talk all the time,” I said, wishing Eddie would just shut up. The ghost dog moved restively.
“Yeah, I heard you,” Eddie said. “But how come you don’t tell him about being able to see us?” He pointed at himself and the ghost dog, who perked up one ear again. “See? Even Gypsy wants to know.”
“That is none of your business, Eddie.” I snapped a glare at him, to stop the foolishness, then turned my gaze to the dog. “Or yours, either.”
IT TOOK TEN more agonizing minutes for Veronica to drive to the dog park. Why was it agonizing? Because Eddie wouldn’t shut up about the fact that he thought I should tell James all about my gift.
“Man, if I could do something cool like that, I think I would have yelled it from the rooftops and shit. Not you though. You just sit there, looking pissy, like it’s all a big inconvenience.”
“Why won’t you stop?” I asked. “I do not want—”
Then I saw the ghost dog sit up, both ears cocked as though she heard something really interesting. Then she whined a few times and stood, her tail whipping back and forth in a happy tattoo. She didn’t leave her body, but she did stare hard at a spot just out of the trees.
“I bet Veronica’s here,” Eddie sai
d. “I don’t get how dogs know when their master is coming, but they always do.”
“She probably heard the vehicle,” I replied. I was starting to feel extremely nervous and was trying to figure out how to keep from transferring it to the dog’s spirit.
“Or maybe she smells her. I think I read that somewhere. Dogs have really good noses. Can smell a thousand times better than us, or something.”
“Whatever. Can you see if they’re coming?” I said.
“You’re going to do fine,” Eddie said.
“Just tell me when they get close,okay? I have to get ready for this.”
I watched him walk away from me and the dog and out into the sunlight, and I hoped that the spirit of the dog would see her master and just move on, with no help from me.
“Please,” I whispered at the dog’s spirit. “Please move on.”
She cocked her head again, obviously not understanding a single word I was saying.
Crap.
Eddie:
It Was Something to See
I LEFT MARIE and the dog in the deep shadows of the trees and stepped out into the sunlight. James stood at the top of the hill, with a short blonde beside him. She looked like a soccer mom. James held her arm, gently leading her down the grassy hill toward me. When they got closer, I could hear her crying.
Man, I hoped Marie had her dog. It wouldn’t go well for them if she went through all this mourning for nothing.
“We found her over there,” I heard James say to her, grabbing her arm to steady her when she tripped over a hummock of grass. “I’m sorry. It looks like she drowned.”
“I can’t believe this,” Veronica said, sniffling into a hand full of tissue. “I was here every day since she ran away. I looked everywhere. Are you sure it’s Gypsy?”
“I believe so, but you’ll have to make the identification,” he replied. “I’m so sorry about this.”
“So am I.” Veronica stopped and wiped her eyes, sighing heavily. “I really love that dog. She’s my best friend.”
“I’m sorry.” James kept one hand on her shoulder, and the woman seemed to take comfort from it. “We just have to follow that path,” he said, pointing at the narrow opening in the solid bank of trees.
