“Thank you,” he said, at last.
“I’m happy to help.”
“Do you always share like this?”
“No. But I’ve been on the run more than once, and I know about hunger.”
Spider nodded again, and the fox sat down.
“So you had a master,” she said. “What was his name?”
“Tom.”
“Was he a youngster?”
Spider nodded.
“And you felt you had to leave? You just had to get out?”
“I don’t know now,” said Spider. “I can’t get the sequence straight in my head, but Moonlight said Tom was coming to kill me—and he was shouting. His dad’s pretty fierce, and I just panicked, Jesse. There was a torch in my eyes, so I was half blinded.”
“Sounds bad.”
“I was thinking about Thread as well. He said it would all end badly, and he was absolutely right.”
“And Thread is?…”
“A spider.”
“A spider? You don’t listen to spiders, surely?”
“I listen to everyone. I’m not that clever, you see, and Thread said I was in what he called ‘an unsustainable relationship’—”
“Hang on,” interrupted Jesse. “What does that even mean?”
“A friendship that can’t go on.”
“Why couldn’t it?”
“Because I was bad.”
“How, Spider? What did you do?”
“Oh, I went crazy. I tore up some of his things, you see—including his penguin.”
“You killed a penguin?” gasped the fox. “Where was this?”
“In his room.”
“Tom kept a penguin in his room?”
“Oh, no—it wasn’t a real one. It was a toy, but Tom was devastated. He said…”
Spider hesitated, and looked down.
“What?” asked Jesse.
“This is awful. Tom said it was the first toy he’d ever been given. By his mother.”
“Can she get him another one?”
“She’s not around, Jesse. And this is a secret, but I know he dreams about her. I’ve heard him, and… Something’s going on, and I don’t know what it is, but she calls him on the phone, or tries to. Every day.”
“That’s tough.”
“He won’t speak to her. I dream about my mother sometimes, but Tom cries in the night, and… It’s another thing we had in common.”
“Then you need to get back to him, Spider. He disciplined you, and by the sound of it he was within his rights. We all need discipline.”
“That’s true.”
“He sounds like a good, sweet, sensible boy.”
Spider whined. “He is! But there’s another thing I didn’t mention. The dad never wanted me, and I’ve cost them a lot of money by damaging things, and when I wrecked the room… Well, that was the last straw.”
“So they punished you. I’m sorry, Spider, but you should have stuck it out—you know you should. Forget the dad: your master is your master. I’ve met a few dogs in my time and they never know how lucky they are, because they just don’t appreciate what they’ve got. Between me and you, I get so jealous.”
“Why? Jealous of what?”
The fox looked behind her and checked one of the tunnels.
“This is all confidential, I hope? I can speak frankly?”
“Please do.”
“Well…”
“What?”
“It’s just that, unlike you, I’ve never been owned. Not by anyone.”
“That’s because you’re a fox. People don’t own foxes, Jesse—they don’t want them around.”
“You’re right.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”
“Oh, don’t be silly—you can say it. It’s a well-known fact, and there’s no use disputing it: we’re a nuisance. We’re seen as vermin, and I can understand that. That’s why I’ve always wondered what it’s like to be needed and looked after. It’s a special relationship, I imagine. You were together at night?”
“Every night,” said Spider.
“You protected each other, then?”
“Of course. We were… inseparable. And I shouldn’t have run away.”
“Ah, but we follow our instincts—what else can we do?”
“I don’t know. I just wanted to get away, out of shame. You know what shame is?”
“Spider, of course I do! We all get it wrong sometimes. I’ll give you an example. Let’s get that drink, by the way. Are you finished here?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
“Follow me.”
Jesse led the way through a side tunnel Spider hadn’t noticed. It brought them up quickly, and they were back out in the woods. The air was cold, but fresh, and the nearby spring was foaming merrily. The two animals paddled and drank, and then Jesse jumped up on to a shelf of rock. Spider followed, and they rested again, shoulder to shoulder.
“You’re asking about shame,” said the fox quietly. “Well, I don’t know what it is about me, but shame follows me wherever I go. I seem to go crazy, like I’m addicted to bad behaviour.”
“Like me.”
“Oh no. A lot worse than you.”
“What do you do?”
“The other day—I haven’t told anyone this, all right?—I was visiting a farm. It’s a place I’d been before, several times—you can usually find a snack of some kind, but on this particular occasion the chickens were out. Maybe the farmer had forgotten them, or there’d been some kind of mix-up—I don’t know. You never know the background. What I knew for sure was that these chickens were usually locked up, safe and snug, so when you’re faced with a temptation like that—well, it’s hard to keep control. Are you with me?”
Spider nodded. “Did you kill one?”
“I couldn’t resist.”
Jesse shook her head and laughed.
“I broke into that coop, Spider, and all the chickens started clucking around, trying to hide. I thought, Come on, Jesse: do the business. Choose the one you want, and get back home. There was this fat old bird in the corner, and I didn’t think she could move too quickly, so she was the obvious target, and I dealt with her. Fast.”
“When you say ‘dealt with her’, do you mean…?”
“Bit her head off? Yes. And, obviously, I should have left it there.”
“Left the head?”
“No, left the coop. I should have taken the one bird and nipped off back to the den, and I don’t know why I didn’t. It’s habit, I suppose—, or compulsion. I’m a fox, Spider—I’m not a philosopher. What I do know is that I couldn’t leave, because that taste of blood is… intoxicating.”
“Is it?”
“Oh, boy…” groaned Jesse. “It’s the smell of it, too—it brings you to a kind of heightened awareness. It’s like time slows down, and the colours are unreal—so are the sounds—and you feel so powerful. I went through that place and I killed every single one of them. There were eggs, so I broke them. Chicks? I ripped them to pieces, and once you’ve started, on you go. You don’t want witnesses, for one thing… you don’t want to leave the job half done. And the screaming, Spider! Wow, it’s like the end of the world.”
“Did you really kill them all?”
“I couldn’t stop myself. I ended up dragging them out of their stalls, and… oh, some of them were begging for their lives. ‘Why are you doing this? Let’s talk! Take me, and leave the youngsters!’ I was berserk, I suppose—no mercy. The whole place was raining feathers, and there was blood everywhere. I was soaked. I was sliding about, dripping in guts. I ended up back at the den, and this is the thing, Spider: I hadn’t brought a single one of those poor birds back with me. I wasn’t even hungry. So what does that make me? Did I do that just for fun?”
Spider sighed. “I don’t know. Did you get into trouble?”
“No. Of course not.”
“You got away with it?”
“I have done, so far.”
“Bu
t you wouldn’t do it again, would you? You’ve learnt your lesson?”
“I don’t learn anything, ever. It’s my nature, I suppose. I’d try not to do it again, but if I saw a bunch of chickens and the fences were down, then I’d be in there like a shot. I’d be a fool not to, and… Spider, it’s going to end badly, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“Blood leads to blood. That’s what my mother said, and it’s fox law, I imagine. One of these days I’ll meet a nasty end, too. What I need, Spider—what I want—is someone like your Tom. A good, kind boy to say ‘Hey. Stop that. Bad idea! Stop what you’re doing.’”
Jesse whined softly.
“What I need,” she said, “is for someone to take me to the park and throw sticks.”
“Tom did that for me.”
“I bet he did. Did you pick them up?”
Spider nodded.
“Wow,” said Jesse. “I would so love to just pick up a stick and return it. Can you think of anything more satisfying? It’s such a simple statement of affection. True togetherness.”
She paused, and shook her head.
“What?” asked Spider.
“Would I give it back, though? The stick, I mean. I’m not sure I’d be able to.”
The dog said nothing.
The fox moved a little closer, so they were warming each other.
“Tom was hurt,” whispered Spider. “I think someone had attacked him.”
“Who?”
“Another boy. He had a bruised face, as if he’d been in a fight. He wears this red and black jacket, and the pocket was ripped—so was his shirt. I know he’s lonely, too, and I told you how he cries in his sleep.”
Jesse frowned. “That’s bad,” she said. “It sounds to me as if the boy needs protection. That’s what you can give him, so you shouldn’t be here.”
“You’re right, because…”
“What?”
“It’s just occurred to me, Jesse. I don’t know what I am, but what if I’ve got a bit of rescue dog inside me? What if I’m part rescue dog? Because if I am, I won’t be there for him, which would be the worst thing in the world.”
He stood up and yelped.
“How did I end up so far away?” he said quietly. “How did I get everything so wrong? I shouldn’t be in the countryside. I’m not wild, like you. I should be in town, with my master, in his bedroom right now!”
“So go back to him.”
“But I’m lost. How do I get back? I don’t know the way!”
Jesse turned and nipped him gently on the ear.
“Look,” she said. “There’s no need to panic. You stay the night here, OK? What you need is a good night’s sleep—”
“How can I find him, though?”
“I’ll help you. We’ll set off as soon as it’s light. Which town is it?”
“I don’t know. There are so many roads and railways.”
“We’ll find it together.”
“Really?”
“Really. It may be a long way, Spider, but we’ll find that boy and look after him.”
Spider realized that his tail was wagging. It hadn’t wagged for so long that it made his back feel strange, and he barked.
“Do you mean that?” he asked. “You’ll help me get home?”
“I’d like to meet this boy,” said Jesse. “I could come into your garden, couldn’t I, and take a look?”
“Of course.”
“What would he think of me?”
“Oh, Jesse, he’d love you! I know he would. You’re… you’re beautiful.”
The fox snorted. “Oh, come on,” she said.
“No, you’re perfect.”
“My nose is too pointed, and—”
“It’s just right.”
“I’m way too amber. Foxes should be a ruddy brown, not this garish red—”
“You’re my favourite colour, honestly—Tom’s too, I bet.”
“Oh. Thank you.”
Jesse found that her eyes were full of tears. She nuzzled Spider, and Spider gently returned the nip.
“Tomorrow,” said the fox, “we’ll sort this out together. First thing.”
That night Spider had a nightmare.
He dropped into the deepest sleep he’d ever known, and dreamt about a tree-climbing chicken, which was chasing a cat on a moped that ran straight into a spider’s web. Tom appeared suddenly, with a bloody face, and Spider woke at once with a bark of fury. He stood, snarling, and saw that he’d been deserted: he was all alone.
When he rushed anxiously up into the open air, Jesse was waiting for him with another pheasant, and Spider ate his portion gratefully.
“Red and black,” said Jesse.
Spider looked at her. “What about it?”
“You said Tom wears red and black clothes. I’ve been thinking about that, and I’ve seen those colours in a town near here—it’s a kind of uniform.”
“Yes,” said Spider. “It’s for school. He has to look smart.”
“I’ve seen people wearing that stuff, and there were lots of them. It’s right where the railway goes—”
“Then you’ve been to his school!”
“I must have been close,” said the fox.
“How far is it?” said Spider, leaping to his feet. “Could you take me there?”
“Of course. It’s quite a trek, but the sun’s shining. We can keep to open country, and find the railway after dark. Then we just follow the tracks.”
“Perfect.”
Spider put his ears back and realized he was happy.
“Do you know something?” he said. “You’re a true friend.”
The fox butted him. “Oh, come on! Don’t thank me yet. We’ve still got to get there.”
“But you’re coming with me? All the way?”
“Try stopping me.”
The two animals set off immediately.
Jesse trotted steadily, refusing to let Spider run. They moved together, side by side, and in a short while, they were climbing a gentle hill. They crossed two streams and refreshed themselves, hiding briefly when a jogger came by. By mid-morning the sun was hot overhead and the trees had given way to broad fields. They headed across a meadow, the landscape spreading into the distance under a clear blue sky.
“This is the most direct route,” said Jesse. “But we’re close to that chicken house I told you about, so it might be better to make a detour.”
“You don’t want to go there?”
“No. I want to change.”
Spider nipped the fox gently on the ear again, and they played for a moment.
“Jesse,” he said, as they changed direction. “Can I ask you a personal question? Would you describe yourself as cunning?”
“No.”
“Foxes have a reputation for being cunning, though, don’t they?”
“I suppose they do,” said Jesse. “I’ve never really thought about it. I mean, I think ahead—of course I do. But cunning suggests playing tricks, and telling lies. I’ve never told a lie, and I’ve never played a trick.”
“So you’re quite straightforward?”
“I hope so.”
They came through a hedge, and Jesse stopped. Spider went on ahead, then turned. The fox had scampered to the top of a nearby rise, and had her back to him. One foreleg was raised slightly, and she was still.
“What’s the matter?” asked Spider. “Are we lost?”
“No. I might be imagining things, but did you hear a noise just then? What’s your hearing like?”
“Good.”
“You didn’t hear a high-pitched kind of squeak?”
“I don’t think so.”
“I did. I can hear it right now.”
Spider trotted over to his friend, and saw that she had gone absolutely rigid from the tip of her tail to her nose. The fur on her back was standing up, and she was holding her head high, sniffing the breeze. Spider stood close, and realized with a shock that Jesse was nervous.
“What
’s the matter?” he asked. “Is it an animal?”
“No.”
“What then?”
“I don’t know. Spider, we might have been a little bit… What’s the word? Overconfident.”
“How do you mean?”
“We’ve just cut across open fields, and that wasn’t wise.”
“Why not? What’s wrong?”
“Well, normally, we foxes keep out of sight. That’s our instinct, and it’s a sensible one because… well, we all know hunting has changed, but you don’t go revealing yourself. Can you hear it now?”
“I can hear something, but—”
“It’s a horn. I might have to leave you, Spider—I might have to run for it.”
“Jesse, you’re not making sense.”
“I know. I just can’t work out which way they’re coming. Can you feel something? It’s not behind us, is it? This is very, very unlucky.”
“Jesse, you’re scaring me…”
Spider saw that the fox had turned round again, and that her eyes were bulging with anxiety. He whined, and that’s when he felt a tremor in the earth. Jesse swallowed, and now Spider smelt the stink of her fear. There was a fine vibration in the soil, and then, in the distance, they both heard the unmistakable sound of hounds. It was an excited, hungry howling and, rising above it, came the clear, sharp note of a hunting horn. Jesse was paralysed.
“They’re not after us, are they?” asked Spider.
The fox managed to blink. “I think they might be,” she said. Her voice was a croak.
“Why?”
“Blood leads to blood. I’ve been spotted.”
“Who by?”
“Dear, oh dear. This is suicide.”
“Look, if it’s just dogs, I can talk to them. I can reason with them—”
“They’re not after you, Spider. They’re after me, and I know just what they’re thinking! They can’t believe their luck. We’re totally exposed—look at us! And there! There they are. They’ve got my scent…”
Jesse’s eyes were wider than ever now, and she took a pace backwards. She was gazing over the field they’d crossed, to the adjoining woods. A young beagle had emerged from the trees, and it was joined at once by another: both were brown, patched with white. They snuffled the ground, twisting with excitement. A horse appeared behind them, and its rider wore a coat that was blindingly bright—it was vivid scarlet, and seemed to flash in the sunlight. More dogs were appearing, and they all looked up together. They gazed at Jesse, and Jesse gazed at them. For a moment, time stood still.
Dog Page 9
