Unleashed- Case of the Hound About Town

by Erik Schubach

  “We shall.”

  I giggled when my cell buzzed and I saw a message from Luce. “You're still coming, right? Eight o'clock. I'll forward the itinerary again in case you lost it.”

  Shaking my head and grinning, I just sent a silly dog emoji and a heart emoji along with. “Of course, goose. We're on our way now. Calvin is biting at the bit to see you again.”

  She sent back, “Sir Calvin is so smart.”

  True dat. What? Fine, I'll never say that again.

  I struck a pose for my wife, and she snorted. “You look great, love. Ready for your closeup.” What? I loved the white sundress with all the little red hearts she had bought me before we were married. I generally prefer solid colors, but... Jane bought this for me. I jammed a matching sun hat on, put a light, unbuttoned sweater over it and said, “Beep beep. All aboard the Sydenham Express.”

  I really treasure when I can coax a genuine smile from my girl like that. I straightened her black blouse as we headed to the door. “We really need to introduce more color in your wardrobe, love.”

  She smirked at the familiar topic. “I have plenty of color in my wardrobe, Finny.”

  I sighed. “Black, olive drab, and khaki is not a color palate, action Barbie.” I grinned internally since I secretly loved the whole Mercenaries Monthly vibe she projected, knowing that this badass Amazon was mine.

  When we turned onto the road the girls home was on, Calvin's ears pricked up. He recognized where we were heading, either by sight or by the smells in the air And he squished me in the passenger seat as he crawled on my lap to look expectantly out the windshield, me gacking and fighting off his tail which was swishing in excitement in my face.

  It warmed my heart, seeing him this excited to see Luce again. The fuzzy boy had impeccable taste.

  We had barely had time to park and open the car doors before he was bounding up the steps to the door. Someone must have been watching because the doors opened a crack so he could slip in as Jane and I just shared incredulous looks back at the car. I muttered, “The fuzzy traitor.”

  Jane pointed out as we headed up the stairs to the doors. “He does love children.”

  “Of course he loves children, they spoil him all the time. All the treats they sneak him don't hurt either.”

  She gave a crooked smile, then pointed out, “He's really good with Luce. I think he can sense her anxiety.”

  I nodded, then squinted an eye at the doors. Hey, why did they open the doors for Cal and not us? I was feeling a double standard here. I smoothed my skirt then pressed the doorbell button. Inside we could hear a series of chimes and I was pleasantly surprised that they sounded like real metal pipe chimes and not electronic.

  The doors opened almost immediately, a smiling Mrs. Doyle was standing there with a mischievous smirk. “Finnegan, Jane, what a surprise, it's good ta see ya.”

  I pointed accusingly at Calvin, who was in on his back making gruffing sounds, with his tongue lolling to the side as he made playful lunges back and forth as he squirmed, trying to catch the little hands that were petting his belly from all directions as the girls made squealing escapes from him. He was in pup heaven.

  The counselor shrugged and played it off. “Oh, him? He's with you?”

  Jane snorted and shoved the woman's shoulder playfully. I noted it seemed the entire home was in the entry corridor as I looked beyond the terrible actress.

  And I also noted that our Luce was hiding behind the woman, clutching the sleeves of the taller woman's smartly pressed blouse. I said as I cocked my head, “Hello, Luce.”

  She poked her head out under Mrs. Doyle's arm. “Good Morning, Finnegan, Jane. You are six minutes early.”

  Jane held a fist out. “Runt,” and Luce bumped it with a little smile on her lips.

  I looked from them to all the girls gathered in the hall, most with jackets on. I went to ask about it but my random brain had me blurting instead, “I noted that you and Mrs. Johnston are Mrs, not Miss nor Ms.”

  She blinked like I had just derailed her and her blinking reboot let her catch up as she chuckled out, “Yes. I married in college, I've a house just there.” She pointed at the door indicating she likely lived just across the road. “And Wendy lives just up the next block. The rest of the staff lives on premise. Though my husband, Clay, always teases that I married the job, not him.”

  I nodded and then asked what I had meant to when this randomness occurred, “Looks like something is happening?”

  She looked from me to the girls then to Jane. “I'm getting whiplash.”

  My traitorous wife said with a wink, “Imagine living with it twenty-four seven.”

  The woman looked down at the hands on her sleeves and went to touch Luce's hands, causing the girl to let go and back off to avoid contact, the woman was wickedly evil knowing just that would happen as she said, “I can imagine.”

  Then she looked at me as I squinted my eyes at the two jokey jesting jerks, causing her to chuckle out the answer to my question. “We figured that since you and Luce were going on an adventure, that we would take the girls out on an outing as well. It's been a few weeks, so we decided a trip to the museum and a little street fair by the docks would be fun for the girls.”

  Luce leaned in to explain. “The langards call it socializing, but how is it socializing when we travel in the same group of...”

  She saw Mrs. Doyle's cocked, expectant brow, and she said to me behind her hand as she leaned up closer, “Sorry.”

  I told both of them, “Well I think that sounds wonderful.”

  Luce considered it then leaned toward Jane as she tugged her own hair. “I guess it is fun... as long as these busybodies aren't prattling on the whole time.”

  The counselor pointed out, “I'm right here, Miss O'Conner, I can hear you.”

  “Why do ya think I'm talkin' so loud you old...”

  “Luce!”

  “Miss O'Conner!”

  “Sorry.”

  I was starting to see this behavior amused Mrs. Doyle on some level because her eyes were twinkling in mischief at the familiar back and forth. I think it was sort of their way of acknowledging each other on Luce's level.

  Luce gleeped and swung left, then squeaked and moved right, then took two quick steps forward as a grinning Brianne came up behind her and started poking her ribs. Luce squeaked out, “Bri! You know that I'm ticklish! I've asked a zillion times for you to stop doing that.”

  Bri nodded sagely. “Yet here I am, still doin' it.”

  Our girl nodded and echoed her, “Yet here you are, still doin' it.”

  The older girl shrugged. “You were in my way, what better way ta get ya to move yer little arse outa tha way?” Then she said to us, “Mrs. McLeary-Mays, a glorious mornin' isn't it?” Then she shoved Luce's shoulder back without looking after Luce shoved hers.

  Luce muttered, “Animals, they're all animals with no sense.”

  Again, Bri didn't even look back, she just held a hand behind her, pinky out. Luce tried to keep her indignant glare but exhaled and broke as she grinned when she linked her pinky with her elder pseudo-sister.

  Jane supplied, “Yes it is, and how are you doing today?”

  The girl looked at Mrs. Doyle and then affected a heavy tweedle dee accent, elongating her vowels, “Grand, seein' as how tha powers that be are seein' fit ta whisk me to tha museum when I should be studyin' fer a test on Monday.” She crinkled her nose fiercely... fine, cutely at the unaffected counselor.

  This girl? She was funny as hell. My smile faded a little when she combed more of her hair over the left side of her face. Didn't she know she didn't need to do that? Especially around us. I was of the opinion that scars just show the world just how badass someone is, that they suffered through something and survived, coming out stronger on the other side. Not to mention that this girl, scars or not, was adorable, and going to be a heartbreaker when she was an adult.

  Luce side kicked her ankle, and she returned the favor, both did it wit
hout looking. Again I noted that they were as tight as Kerry and I had been when we were kids.

  If she was going out anyway... I opened my mouth to invite her along with us instead, but Jane beat me to it. “Well if you're doomed to have fun today instead of studying...” She looked at Mrs. Doyle for permission as she finished, “...Why don't you tag along with Luce and us? We're going to be shameless tourists today in Belfast.”

  A few things passed over Mrs. Doyle's expression before she gave us an inscrutable look then said to Bri, “If you'd like, Miss Fitzgerald.”

  She let go of Luce's pinky and took a half step back. “I couldn't, this is Luce's day with...”

  Our little redhead blurted, “Come on Bri, it will be fun.” Then she started rubbing her jaw with the back of her hand, saying, “We may not have many more days together.”

  I nodded and assured her enthusiastically, “We'd love to have you along.”

  The girl had looked as though Luce had just slapped her as we saw the realization in her eyes. I don't think she had really contemplated just what it would mean if Luce were adopted. Both of them had been passed by dozens of times so this situation probably never came to mind before... well except that once.

  She just nodded dumbly as she looked at the younger girl, saying absently, “Yeah, ok. I'd be delighted ta come.”

  Why did my heart hurt so much? I shared a look with Jane and she just offered a hand that I took as Cal slipped up beside Luce, who jammed her fingers into his fur and fisted some in her hand as she started to calm a little. I loved my fuzzy boy, he was like some sort of anxiety whirlpool that drained the negative emotions away.

  Mrs. Doyle said, “Alright then, just a moment, I'll need you ta sign a form.”

  Luce called after her as the woman turned back to asks something, “First shelf, fifth bin.”

  The woman just waved her off over her shoulder then said to the girls and staff that were gathered, “Alright girls, start loading up in the vans, we have to be on the road in ten minutes.”

  Luce went into motion, Bri at her back like the enforcer we keep imagining her as. Our girl was telling the smaller girls as she made sure each one had their jackets zipped up. “Now be sure ta use your manners. Stay with tha group and stay in twos. If ya get lost, go to the nearest shop and ask an adult who works there ta call the home, don't ask strangers. Be on yer best behavior as it reflects on tha home.” She pulled a little plastic folding poncho from one girl's pocket before sliding it back in. “If it starts ta rain, put on yer slickers. No need ta get sick.”

  She kissed the top of each of their heads as she went, to a chorus of, “Yes, Sissy,” after each instruction. Bri followed behind her giving exploding fist bumps as the staff watched with big smiles on their faces which probably matched mine.

  When she rejoined us, she winged a thumb at the staff who were starting to usher the girls out, “I gotta do that 'cause this lot is pretty useless. Someone has ta teach the wee ones some sense.”

  She smirked when she dodged one woman's finger poke as they moved past. She knew exactly what she was doing and it just reinforced my belief that this is how she interacted with them, and her words pretty much were the opposite of what she was thinking and the emotions she was trying to convey. They've had ten years to adapt to her unorthodox mannerisms and I could see they all loved her too.

  Mrs. Doyle caught up with us and hesitated, then she had us sign some papers to take Brianne off the premises. She beamed at us then walked us out and the cook from the commissary locked the doors behind us all. The home counselor then beamed at us and said, “Have fun ladies. The girls need to be back by seven o'clock.” Then she was gone, herding the wild kittens into the vans.

  I asked the girls, “Why is she suddenly so chipper?”

  Bri shrugged and Luce offered, “Advanced age Dementia?”

  Jane pointed a finger at her. “Hey now, she can't be more than thirty-five or forty, half-pint. Be nice.”

  Luce looked amused as she almost got in my face to whisper, “Sorry.”

  We piled into the car, and Calvin was happy to sit between the girls in the back seat, as Luce hugged him around the neck.

  I asked, “Let's go be silly shall we?” I got one enthusiastic nod and a thoughtful and almost questioning nod in return.

  Jane said, “First stop, Belfast Castle, buckle up ladies.” Then we were off.

  Luce was explaining to Calvin, like he could understand. “I've not seen the castle yet. We only get out of the home on field trips like the young ones are doin' today. So I've only seen a few things. I bet you've seen a lot of things in New York. When we get ta be fifteen at the home, then we are allowed ta go out on our own in the neighborhood ta visit with the kids from the High School and do school activities. You get a day pass every couple weeks ta go into the city. Bri brings me books when she goes.”

  Brianne mentioned, “Maybe we'll find some obscure book on growin' corn or somethin' fer yer library while we're out, Luce-Goose.”

  The younger girl glared at her. “You act as if learning new things is anathema to fun, you feckin' eejit. And what would be wrong with a book on horticulture? I'm sure I could find one with few words an' lots of pictures for you ta understand, like the funnies yer always readin'.”

  Then she leaned between our seats to whisper loudly, “Sorry,” before we could chastise her for language.

  Bri grinned as she reached across Cal to shove Luce's shoulder. “They're graphic novels an' ya know it, ya little snot. An' don't go disparigin' them or ya won't get ta read the newest Battle Angel manga.”

  Luce gave her 'the look' that dared the girl to follow through on her threat. She sighed in resignation then smiled and whispered into Calvin's ear, “Ok, Battle Angel may be my guilty pleasure, but don't let the smug one there know.” Then she looked purposefully away from her best friend, the corners of her mouth ticking in a smile she was trying not to show.

  I exchanged a look with Jane, then we started cracking up. The girls looked at us like we were a few spoons short of a symphony, then the mood spread to them, and it was a joy to watch Luce giggling. I glanced back and Bri was trying hard to stop laughing, and that just got me giggling all the more.

  She wiped happy tears from her eyes, exposing her face in the process, having to push back her hair. I saw the scars clearly now on the left side of her face, they were angry puckered slashes she got in the boat accident that killed her parents when she was only seven. Mrs. Doyle had told us about it when I had asked in curiosity before we had come to Ireland.

  A larger vessel, a fishing trawler, had collided with theirs when the captain had looked away for a minute to look at navigation charts, splintering their hull and actually dragging the boat under it before the larger vessel could finally stop. It was a complete miracle that Bri had survived, she had been thrown from the boat as it was pulled under, and she had apparently bounced along the underside of the ship and was struck by the propellers. Her life vest was ripped from her and the blades scored her face and chest as she was flung past.

  When she came floating to the surface in the wake of the fishing boat, crew-members saw her and dove into the water with a life preserver. The hospital didn't give her a good prognosis, thinking she wouldn't last the night. But the scrappy girl proved them all wrong, and a few weeks later was released into the care of the Sydenham Home For Girls when they found she had no living relatives.

  Bri caught me looking at her, smiling, I thought she looked amazing, and the scars were just part of her and to me, just gave her a more intriguing look. She quickly pulled her hair back over the left side of her face. I gave her a patient look then turned back to the front.

  Jane asked to pass the time, “Have you two been pinky sisters since you arrived at the home?”

  Luce snorted and Bri giggled out, “She was tha most annoyin' little brat when we first met, and I was wonderin' if murder was really such a bad thing. I mean, if tha judge had ever met tha poison pill, they'd unders
tand an' just let me walk.”

  Belying her words she absently offered a pinky to Luce who seemed unphased by her words and just linked pinkies as she looked out the window with a touch of excitement and awe as the city rolled past.

  Brianne shared, “My first couple o' years at Sydenham, I was in a dark place. My entire world had been taken from me, and I was disfigured an' half blind. Then they stuck me in an orphanage ta top it all off. I di'n't want ta talk ta anyone, interact with anyone. It was torture going ta classes with the other orphan girls and having ta eat with them. I spent all my free time hidin' in the shadows on my bed.”

  She snorted lightly to herself. “But then one day, a four-year-old I had seen around the home was moved from the nursery wing inta the dorms. I had heard the other girls talking about her, that they thought somethin' was wrong with her because she didn't act like the others, and she was reading advanced books and of all things, a dictionary.”

  “They said they liked to tease by reachin' out ta touch the girl because she hated ta be touched and would almost throw herself down tha stairs ta avoid it. I was sort of glad I wasn't tha only freak there.”

  She smiled over at Luce, who was apparently not listening as she traced what looked like the outlines of buildings on the fog her breath was making on the window. “I had been given tha worst bed in tha dorm when I got there, the one nobody wanted since tha stained glass window di'n't open like tha others. It was a seniority thing. But I liked it because it was darker an' I could hide better. So when girls were adopted, an' I could choose tha open beds, I stayed where I was.”

  She rolled her eyes in fun. “But when Mrs. Doyle asked this newcomer which of tha two open beds she wanted, Luce just pointed at my space, her eyes on tha window. To my surprise Mrs. Doyle walked over an' said, 'Miss Fitzgerald, I'm sorry, but you know the rules, Miss O'Conner has seniority.' How did this new girl have seniority over me? I'd been there two years. But Mrs. Doyle insisted, she was apologetic, but I was seethin'. Now my bed was bein' taken from me like everything else. An' this little girl didn't seem ta care.”