But that wasn’t going to be Danny Boy’s fate if Jackie had anything to say about it. “I bet somebody special is looking for you, worrying about where their baby is.” The setter had been at the Sumter County Animal Shelter for eleven days.
“I imagine you’re right, Jackie. He’s too fine a dog to be a stray.” Oscar Shaw was the shelter’s director, and Jackie’s boss. He also was sweet on Abigail’s mother, Raynelle, and like Jackie and Abigail, a regular at Leon’s.
“I can’t figure out why nobody’s called or come by looking for him. You’d have to miss a dog like this.” She continued the brushing and the setter relaxed on the large stainless steel table. “I still can’t get over how much he looks like my Danny.”
“How old were you when you lost that dog?”
“Thirteen. You should have seen him, Oscar. Jumped right between me and that rattlesnake.” Even after twenty years, the memory of her dog’s heroic sacrifice still made her sad. “Saved my life, Mama said.”
“How old do you think this one is?”
“Four or five, maybe. His teeth are pretty clean.”
“It’d be a shame if—”
“That’s not going to happen to Danny Boy. I’ll betcha somebody comes tomorrow and takes this baby home.” The setter had only three more days at the shelter before his time was up, but there was no way Jackie would let this dog be put down. “And if they don’t…”
“Abigail will have your hide if you show up with another one. And then she’ll come down here and started whipping on me. That’s what she said.”
Jackie laughed. “I know what she said. I’ll just have to convince her that Danny Boy here is a keeper.”
“Maybe you ought to let Hank have those two beagles he’s been after.”
“Not till he builds a fence. He can’t just keep letting his dogs run back and forth across that road. Dogs aren’t like groceries that you use up and go get more.”
“I hear you. I keep worrying it’ll be one of his kids next time.”
“At least his three-year-old has more sense than a dog when it comes to cars. I’m not about to let him have Mo and Molly till he learns how to take care of them.”
“If everybody learned how to take care of their animals, we’d be out of a job.”
“That would be just fine with me, but we both know it’ll never happen.”
Danny Boy’s amber eyes followed her as she retrieved his food and water bowls from the pen.
From this central area, Jackie and Oscar had access to all the dogs through small doors at the back of their pens. The room held two large sinks and a tiled shower area for bathing the animals, food bins containing various feline and canine diets, a locked drug cabinet, and the stainless steel table, which they used for grooming, examinations, and the shots of sodium pentobarbital that would ease the animals’ final passage should their time at the shelter run out. The front of each pen opened onto a broad hallway where prospective owners could get a good look at pets available for adoption.
“I wish we just had enough room to keep all of these guys until they found a home.”
“The county’s not about to build onto this place, though. Roy Lee said we ought to be happy they didn’t just close us down.” Roy Lee Turnbuckle was head of the county commission.
“That’s because Roy Lee’s an asshole.” She scrubbed out the bowls in one sink and set them aside to drain.
Oscar chuckled. “You got that right. If Roy Lee had his way, he’d declare open season on stray dogs and cats.” He opened one of the smaller crates, allowing a cat to run free in the room, impervious to the Irish setter.
“And old people too, probably,” Jackie added. “Beth Hester says he cuts their budget at the nursing home every time it comes up at the commission meetings.”
“Raynelle heard him talking with his cronies over at the restaurant about the county buying up land so they can build a public golf course. They must be getting tired of driving all the way to Holden County every weekend to play.”
“Yeah, I heard that too. Vernon Ashby said Roy Lee came sniffing around to see if he was ready to sell the farm.”
“You still got your eye on the Ashby farm?”
Jackie nodded eagerly. “You bet. Another couple of years and we might just have enough to make a down payment. Vernon said he’d be ready to sell by then.”
“That’s a pretty big farm, Jackie. I bet he’s got a hundred acres.”
“A hundred and sixteen,” she corrected. “But if we boarded a few horses and leased some of the pasture, maybe we could swing it. And we’d have enough room to build a no-kill shelter away from the highway, like we talked about.”
“Like you talked about. I still don’t get how they work. Seems to me you just keep collecting animals.”
“You do, but when they come in, they get spayed and neutered first thing. That ends the breeding cycle once and for all. Then they get all their shots so they won’t be carrying diseases and stuff.”
“But we already do that for the ones that get adopted.”
“I know, but if we do it first, they’re ready to go. Audie said we could take them to fairs or to community centers…people wouldn’t have to wait three days like they do now. But no-kill means we’d have to work harder to find homes for these guys. We’d need more people like Audie to go out and give talks in the community and the schools about what it means to be a responsible pet owner, and all the benefits of having a pet. She can’t do it all by herself.”
Oscar nodded. “We can barely keep up with all we’ve got to do as it is.”
“We’d have to hire a couple more people…maybe somebody with public speaking experience, or somebody who knew how to raise money.” Jackie’s voice escalated in excitement as she talked about her dreams. “And wouldn’t it be nice to have a wide-open space where the dogs could get out and run for a change?”
“All of that sounds good, but I still think we’d just be getting more and more strays with nowhere to go.”
“We have to educate people, Oscar. God left us in charge of all the animals of the earth, and one of these days, we’re going to be judged on how we’ve treated them. How much blood’s going to be on our hands for all the dogs and cats we’ve put to sleep?”
“But what we do is more humane than letting them starve or get hit by cars.”
“I know, but how much nicer would it be to find these animals a home where they could make people’s lives better too? I know I’d sleep easier at night.”
Oscar usually turned quiet whenever she got up on her no-kill soapbox. She never meant to make him feel guilty for what they had to do, but her rants about their lack of space and resources usually had that effect.
“You know how I am about this, Oscar. I hate it every time we have to put one of them down, but I know it’s what we have to do. I just want to change it is all.”
“I hope one day you will, Jackie.”
“And I’m going to start with Danny Boy here.” She filled the setter’s bowls and he jumped off the table to follow her across the room. “I’ll talk with Abigail about him tonight. Once I tell her how he reminds me of my Danny, she’ll understand why I have to save him.”
“Okay, but you be sure to tell her that I tried to talk you out of it.”
Jackie laughed. “I will.”
“What about that little black and white dog? I bet you could find somebody that would take her.”
“She doesn’t like kids. They’re too rowdy.” She led the shiny setter back into his pen and closed the gate. “She needs a woman, somebody with a sweet voice and a soft lap.”
Oscar chuckled. “I could go for that myself.”
“You and me both, Oscar.”
***
“Okay, AJ, cross your fingers,” Abigail said as she put the key into the ignition.
Her nephew knew the drill. “I’m crossing my fingers and my arms and my legs and my eyes.”
“Don’t cross your eyes. They could get stuck like t
hat.”
Abigail had never known anyone whose eyes had actually gotten stuck, but she had heard that admonition all her life and felt obliged to pass it on.
“But it makes us luckier.”
The engine cranked on the first try.
“See?”
She wasn’t about to argue. “How was school today?”
“Fine. Can I have pancakes for supper?”
“That depends. Did you get any gold stars?” The seven-year-old was doing better this year as he repeated first grade.
“I got a red star in my reading group.”
“A red star is good, isn’t it?”
“It’s not as good as a gold star, but it’s better than a blue star.”
“That’s great, AJ! You get to have pancakes, then.”
The youngster, whose red, kinky hair and light brown, freckled skin made his racially-mixed heritage obvious to most, strained against his seatbelt to peer over the dashboard as they pulled into the restaurant’s parking lot. “I don’t see Jackie’s truck.”
“She’ll be here. She probably had to work a little late because tomorrow’s Saturday and she wants all the dogs and cats to look good when people come to the shelter.”
“I wish Mama would let me have a dog.”
“One of these days, maybe. Your mama wants to get a bigger house first.”
“But our house is bigger than your house and you have four dogs. And cats too.”
“Believe me, I know. And our house isn’t big enough either.”
The pair got out of the car and walked inside, where Abigail spotted one empty booth at the far end of the restaurant. “Hurry and grab that booth, AJ.” She waved toward her mother as they took their seats.
“But it’s Wanda’s.” A regular at Leon’s, AJ knew the layout and shift schedule by heart. Wanda had all the booths by the window. Raynelle, his grandmother, was responsible for the long row of tables and the handful of counter stools.
“There aren’t enough stools at the counter, and all of Grandma’s tables are full.” She steered him toward the open booth. “Besides, you like Wanda, right?”
AJ nodded and smiled. Wanda usually brought him a cookie if he ate all his dinner.
Wanda came to their table with three water glasses as soon as they sat down. “Jackie called and said she’d be here by six and for you guys to go ahead and order.”
“Thanks. AJ got a red star in reading and he wants pancakes.”
“Way to go, AJ!” The waitress held up her palm for a slap. “Jackie ordered a cheeseburger and fries already. What do you want, Abigail?”
Jackie and AJ were creatures of habit, but Abigail always studied the menu as if seeing it for the first time—despite the fact that she’d been coming to this restaurant for fifteen years. “How’s the chicken stew?”
Wanda scrunched her nose and shook her head, careful not to let Leon, the restaurant’s owner and cook, see her disparage the nightly special.
“The meat loaf?”
Wanda’s expression remained unchanged.
“Cheeseburger and fries?”
“An excellent choice. AJ, you want bacon or sausage with them pancakes?”
“Sausage…no, bacon…no, sausage.”
“How about I just bring you one of each?” She pulled a few crayons out of her apron and dropped them onto his placemat. “Two sweet teas and a milk, right?”
“That’s right. Thanks, Wanda.” Abigail looked up to see her mother charging from the kitchen with a loaded tray. Friday was payday for a lot of people in Sumter County, including Abigail and Jackie, and that made it the restaurant’s busiest day. “I think I see a black pickup rolling in.”
AJ whipped around to see Jackie park near the door and get out of her truck. But it was several minutes before she made it to their table, as she stopped and spoke with people along the way.
“I swear, you know everybody in town, Jackie.” Abigail scooted over to make room on the bench.
“Some a little better than others.” Beneath the table, she mischievously snaked a hand toward Abigail’s crotch, but Abigail grabbed it just in time. “Hey, AJ!”
“Hey, Jackie. I got a red star in reading and I get pancakes.”
“Good for you!” Like Wanda, she held up a palm for the boy to slap.
“Did you have to work late?” Abigail asked.
“No, I got dog poop all over my jeans and had to go home and change.”
“Pew!” AJ pinched his nose.
“And I let the dogs out and fed the cats and cleaned out the litter box.”
“And washed your hands?” Abigail added hopefully.
“And washed my hands.” Jackie picked up a crayon and flipped her placemat over to the seek-a-word puzzle on the back. “If you get a chance tomorrow, you should come down to the shelter and have a look at that Irish setter I told you about. I can’t get over how much he looks like Danny.”
“Don’t even think about it, Jackie. You’re not bringing home another dog.”
“Nah, I won’t have to bring Danny Boy home. He’s beautiful. Somebody’s bound to take him home tomorrow. He’s really sweet and he likes the cats.”
“Cut it out! I know when you’re working me. It always starts like this, all innocent and conversational. The next thing I know, you’re standing in the door with another one.”
Jackie sighed. “Danny Boy’s got a home somewhere. He must be lost or something.”
“Maybe they’ll find him tomorrow. Did you get his picture in the paper?”
“Not this week. They said they didn’t have a photographer to send out, so they ran last week’s picture again.”
“That little terrier?”
“Yeah. We”—she looked at AJ, who was engrossed in the picture he was coloring—“you know…last Monday.”
“Good thing nobody showed up to claim him.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Did you like my picture?” AJ asked suddenly.
Jackie and Abigail exchanged quizzical looks.
“Oh, the one for Abigail’s birthday,” Jackie answered. “We put it up on our refrigerator. It looks good with the ones from Christmas.”
“It was very nice of you to remember my birthday,” Abigail said.
“Mama reminded me,” he explained. “Did Jackie get you a present?”
The women exchanged embarrassed looks.
“Uh, yes…she did. She got me a…a lamp.”
“What kind of lamp?”
“Kind of like a flashlight,” Jackie answered hurriedly. “So did you get bacon or sausage with your pancakes?”
“Wanda said she was going to bring me one of each.”
Raynelle rushed over with a bus pan to clear the table next to them. She looked much older than her forty-four years, her lean face lined by a lifetime of hard work and doing without. Her left eye was fixed and unseeing, a lifelong reminder of what could happen if you married the wrong man. “Hey, sweetie pie. I heard you got a red star.”
“In reading.”
“That’s good. Your mama will be proud of you, just like I am.” Raynelle hastily dumped the dirty plates and glasses into the pan. “I’ll come back and talk to y’all when I get a minute.”
“Here comes Wanda with your pancakes,” Jackie said. “Can I have two of them?”
“There’s only three!”
“Can I have one?”
“Jack-ie!”
“Jack-ie ,” she mocked. “You sound just like Abigail did last night.” A swift kick to her ankle reminded her they had changed that subject already. “Ouch!”
“Here’s your dinner,” Wanda said, setting the plates on the table. “If you need anything else, get up and get it yourself. I got all I can handle.”
AJ doused his stack of pancakes with syrup in the same manner as Jackie poured ketchup on her fries. Abigail was more methodical, carefully cutting her cheeseburger in quarters to make it more manageable and gently dabbing mustard with the tip of her knife.
<
br /> As they prepared to eat, two men in their early twenties took the empty table next to them. From the corner of her eye, Jackie caught one of them pointing to AJ and laughing.
“Something funny?” She glared across the aisle at the one who was pointing.
“Nope,” he answered, but grinned back at his friend and mumbled something they couldn’t quite hear.
“Ignore them, Jackie,” Abigail said.
“Assholes,” Jackie muttered.
AJ’s eyes got big.
“And watch your mouth or Rosemary’ll wash it out with bleach.”
“Sorry. How are those pancakes, AJ?”
“Mmmpff.”
“That good, huh?”
He nodded and smiled just as the two men next to them burst out laughing.
Jackie slammed her fist on the table.
“Forget it, Jackie.”
“No!” She stood up and took two strides toward the neighboring table. “People ought to be able to go out to eat without getting harassed by a couple of idiots.”
“We ain’t harassing nobody…just wondering where that boy got his kinky red hair.”
“He got the red part from his mama and the kinky part from his daddy. Is that what you wanted to know?” She took another step toward their table. “You might have heard about his daddy—Antoine Pearson…Sergeant Antoine Pearson. There’s a plaque down at the courthouse with his name on it. ’Course, you probably can’t read, can you?”
She could see the tips of the young man’s ears turning red.
“Jackie, come sit down,” Abigail begged again. Everyone around them had stopped eating to listen to the exchange.
“If you could, you’d know his daddy was a hero, and that he died last year over in Afghanistan saving two people in his unit. Either one of you ever do something like that?” She looked from one to the other and back. “I didn’t think so. It doesn’t take much courage to go around showing off that stupid rebel flag on your hat like you’re better than somebody else. You’re no better than anybody…in fact, jerks like you are about the lowest there is.”
She spun around and returned to her table as the other diners continued to gawk. The two young men, clearly embarrassed by the dressing-down, stared at the floor for a minute before turning back to their table. Neither realized that Raynelle was standing beside them waiting to take their order.
Luck of the Irish Page 2
