Perimeter

by M. A. Rothman

  The veterinary assistant—the name “Sherri” was stenciled on her scrubs—stopped beside a large metal scale. “Let’s see if we can coax Jasper on here.”

  Before Megan could even nudge the dog in the right direction, Jasper walked over and stepped on the scale.

  “Hah, what a good boy,” Sherri said. “Wow, 125.8 pounds. I’d never have guessed it.” She scribbled the weight on a sheet of paper and slid it into Jasper’s chart.

  “Do you have one of those chip scanners?” Frank asked. He ignored Megan’s severe look. “Jasper just wandered onto our property today, and he has no collar or tags. We don’t know anyone who’s missing a lab in our area. But we wanted to do the right thing and see if he’d been chipped or not.”

  “Oh, of course. Be right back.” Sherri disappeared through another door while Megan began fervently petting the top of Jasper’s head. Moments later, Sherri returned with what looked like a thick stick with a small loop on its end.

  Megan grabbed Frank’s hand as the veterinary assistant approached Jasper.

  Sherri passed the wand back and forth over Jasper’s back. “Hmm. Most vets inject the chip between the animal’s shoulders, and I’m not seeing anything there.”

  Megan squeezed Frank’s hand tighter.

  “Let’s just make sure there isn’t one anywhere else.” Sherri slowly moved the wand over Jasper’s hindquarters and then back toward the front again. As she neared the right front leg, the dog whined.

  “It’s okay, Jasper,” Megan said soothingly. “She’s not going to hurt you.”

  The veterinary assistant paused over the dirt-encrusted wound. “Poor baby, you’ve got an ouchie. Dr. Dew will make it all better.” She finished dragging the wand over Jasper and shook her head. “No chips that I can find.”

  Frank sensed Megan’s smile without even having to look. He sighed wistfully with the realization they had just adopted a dog. “Okay,” he said. “In that case, in addition to tending to that wound, let’s get Jasper a full workup.”

  “Okay. Dr. Dew will be in to look at Jasper in a bit. And since it looks like Jasper is favoring his right front leg, we may need to take x-rays and sedate him to treat the wound. It’ll be at least four hundred dollars.” She raised a questioning eyebrow.

  “Just fix him up,” Megan said quickly. “We’ll pay whatever is necessary.”

  Frank kissed the top of Megan’s head. There was no arguing with Mrs. O’Reilly over such things.

  ###

  Frank spent nearly an hour in the waiting room, with Megan fidgeting the whole time. And when at last the vet appeared—without Jasper—Megan grabbed Frank’s arm and held it tightly.

  The vet was a huge man with a bodybuilder’s physique, yet his voice was soft, almost effeminate. He gave Frank and Megan a wide smile. “Jasper will be coming out of sedation in about twenty minutes, but he’ll be fine. It looks like he must have gotten into a fight, and the wound got infected. Luckily, the x-rays showed no breaks. However, it’s fortunate that we did that x-ray, because I probably wouldn’t have seen this otherwise.”

  He pulled a clear plastic baggie from his lab coat and handed it to Frank. It contained a four-inch-long metal wire.

  Dr. Dew showed his arm and pointed at a four-inch length above his wrist. “That wire managed to lodge itself between the skin and muscle just above the wound. I have no idea how it could have gotten in there, but it came out without any problems.”

  “So… he’s okay?” Megan asked.

  Another broad smile. “Jasper’s still a little loopy at the moment, but he’s just fine. All stitched up. He’s on antibiotics, which he’ll need to take twice a day, and I’m also going to give you guys some ointment that needs to go on the wound on a daily basis.”

  Barking sounded from the back, and the exam room doors burst open. Jasper came bounding into the waiting room, his gait a bit awkward, one foot wrapped up like a mummy. He raced straight to Megan and spun rapidly with excitement as if he’d expected to never see her again.

  Sherri came in right behind him. “I’m sorry Dr. Dew, but Jasper woke up way early and began frantically pawing at the door. I didn’t want him to pull any of his stitches. It looks like he really wanted to see his mommy.”

  Megan scratched Jasper’s head. Clearly the two had already formed a bond.

  “Well, we can’t have this big guy breaking down any doors,” said Dr. Dew, laughing. “I’m quite sure he’s the heaviest healthy lab I’ve ever encountered, and it’s not even close. It’s odd, because he doesn’t look like he’d be any heavier than seventy-five pounds or so, which is still heavy for a lab, but this boy has got some incredibly dense musculature. And judging by his teeth, he's still young. He might grow a bit more yet.”

  Frank groaned. “I’m already tired just thinking about how much work it’ll be just keeping him fed.”

  Jasper walked away from them, grabbed a doggie blanket that was tucked under one of the waiting room chairs, brought it back, and laid it on Frank’s lap.

  Megan smiled. “Aww, he heard you’re tired and he brought you a blanket.”

  Dr. Dew patted Jasper on his head. “You’re one smart dog.”

  Jasper sat up a bit straighter and woofed in agreement.

  Frank couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t right about this animal. But as he watched Megan fawning over Jasper, he knew that what he thought no longer mattered.

  Chapter Two

  “Juan, I can’t have my brother paying my bills for me. I’m getting a part-time job so I can help and you don’t have to kill yourself.”

  With his cell phone to his ear, Juan Gutierrez took a deep breath and silently prayed for patience. Miguel had only just started his first year at Georgia Tech, and now he was thinking about taking a job? Juan looked around the research lab. He didn’t make great money here, but he made enough to keep Juan in school. Barely.

  “Miguel, I told you I have it covered. I want you to focus on your studies, that’s it. Besides, Mom’s life insurance left enough to just cover your expenses.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Of course I’m sure,” Juan lied.

  The truth was, the life insurance money had run out years ago. But if Miguel knew that, the kid would probably drop out of college altogether. Juan hated lying to his little brother, but if that was what it took to keep him focused on school…

  “Still,” Miguel said, “I can handle a part-time job. It’s no big deal.”

  Taking a deep breath, Juan spoke as calmly as he could. “Trust me, Miguel. You’ll have more than enough on your plate without having to worry about catching the bus to some dead-end job. And you know as well as I do that you finishing school was Mom’s biggest wish. Just let me make the monthly payments for school, and you worry about your grades. You’ll help out more by keeping that scholarship.”

  Miguel had secured a partial academic scholarship—contingent on good grades—and without it, Juan wasn’t sure how he’d afford Georgia Tech’s tuition.

  Miguel sighed. “Well, okay. I’ll do the best I can. And thanks.”

  A voice in the background said, “Hey Miguel, you up for some hoops?”

  “Juan, I’ll talk to you later. Love you, bro.”

  “Love you too.”

  Just as Juan hung up, the badge reader at the lab entrance beeped, and a gray-haired security guard walked in and scanned the room. When his gaze landed on Juan, his eyes narrowed. “What are you doing here?”

  The man’s suspicious tone sent heat rising up Juan’s neck. It was as if this rent-a-cop expected Juan to be emptying the trash cans instead of sitting in front of a lab bench.

  “Excuse me?” Juan snapped indignantly. “I happen to work here.”

  The security guard frowned. “Sir, where’s your employee badge?”

  Juan rotated in his seat, unclipped the badge from the lab coat he had draped on the back of his chair, and wordlessly held it up for t
he man to see.

  The guard nodded. “Thank you, sir. I’m just doing the rounds.” He turned and walked out of the lab.

  Juan scowled. He knew the guard was just doing his job, but he couldn’t help but wonder if the man would have been as brusque if Juan’s skin hadn’t been brown.

  Juan had long ago understood just how lucky he was. Not only had he managed to escape the projects of East LA—a rare feat—but he had completed both college and medical school, and now here he was doing cancer research for one of the largest pharmaceutical companies in the world.

  He looked at the picture of his mother he kept on his lab bench. She’d gotten pregnant with him when she was very young, and as a result, she’d never had the chance to build her own career. But she’d dedicated herself to being the best mother Juan could have hoped for. And it was she who instilled in him the idea that education was the only way out of the projects.

  With a dull ache crawling up his neck, Juan felt the beginning of a headache.

  He’d had a hard life—and it got even harder when Juan’s father died. Juan was thirteen, and his mother was pregnant with Miguel, when one day Dad simply fainted on the living room floor. He’d been suffering from what everyone assumed was a hard-to-shake flu.

  His father was only thirty-one years old when he died.

  Juan still remembered the smell of the exhaust coming from the heavy traffic as Mom followed the ambulance. She had one hand on the steering wheel, the other patting his shoulder reassuringly as she said, “Mijo, it’ll be all right.”

  It wasn’t all right.

  Dad never regained consciousness.

  It was late on a Sunday evening, over eighteen years ago, when Juan first heard the word “cancer.”

  Juan heard the tremor in her voice as she repeatedly whispered a prayer to a God he wasn’t sure existed.

  After that, Juan began lashing out in school, arguing with his teachers, getting into fights. Impotently venting his rage at everyone around him. He was angry at his father for not having gone to the doctor earlier.

  He was a teenager who’d lost a parent. He was just… angry.

  If it hadn’t been for his mother’s strong hand, his life would certainly have taken a turn in a very bad direction. It almost did. But she stood strong, and she saved him from the gangs and the dangers of the streets.

  She was his savior. And now she was gone, too.

  Feeling a hollowness in the pit of his stomach, Juan closed his eyes as the painful memory bubbled to the surface.

  “Ay ay ay, mijo… el dolor…” Mom moaned in Spanish as the pain wracked her body.

  Tears blurring his vision, Juan watched over her. He knew she had little time left. Despite the strong odor of camphor coming from her nebulizer, her breathing was shallow and strained. She’d refused hospice care, preferring to stay at home until the very end.

  With a sudden inhalation, Mom grimaced and squeezed Juan’s hand. He clasped her hand in both of his.

  And then her grip loosened. The grimace disappeared. And she closed her eyes.

  A tear ran down the side of her face. “I’m sorry, mijo… I can’t fight anymore…”

  Juan softly whispered the words aloud. “I can’t fight anymore.” His mother’s last words. Eight years later, those words still haunted him.

  Cancer had taken both his parents from him, and those deaths had shaped the man he was today. His father’s death had filled Juan with an unstoppable drive, and his mother had given him the desire to prevent others from suffering from the same hideous disease.

  He was driven by a single-minded obsession.

  To find a cure for cancer.

  ###

  Juan glanced up at the clock and groaned. He’d promised Lisa that he’d be home hours ago. Glancing around at the lab bench scattered with his notes, printouts and then at various other computer terminals, Juan shook his head and announced to nobody in particular, “Okay, that’s enough for today.”

  But before he could close his laptop, it dinged with an e-mail from AgriMed’s HR department.

  To all North American employees:

  As many of you know, the pharmaceutical industry has been experiencing an economic downturn. We have weathered such events in the past by increasing our investments in research and development so that we can come out stronger when the economy improves.

  Unfortunately, our forecasts show that the economic malaise is spreading across Europe and Asia. Therefore, it has been decided that we will take a closer look at our investments, and in some cases, separation from the company will be the result.

  All employees should expect to have one-on-one meetings with their immediate supervisors on whether or not they are affected.

  Further details on separation packages will be made available within the next week.

  Juan read the e-mail a second time, glanced at the disorganized mess of notes and partial results scattered across his workspace, and groaned.

  He noted that they didn’t say how many people would be “affected.” He was hopeful that he’d be spared—cancer research was supposedly a priority at AgriMed—but he couldn’t help the anxiety that tightened his chest.

  Because if they were going to trim back in cancer research, he might be on the chopping block. The truth was, he hadn’t made any breakthroughs yet, while others had come up with new protocols, had written extensively in peer-reviewed journals, or were even in the midst of administering large clinical trials.

  “I’m screwed.”

  ###

  “Don’t you dare call and try to make up with me this time. I’m sick of your shit, Juan!”

  Lisa put emphasis on his name any time she was especially upset, and tonight, she was pissed. This wasn’t the first time he’d lost track of time in the lab and had come home hours later than promised. And this time, he even had a good excuse, what with the HR announcement and him scrambling to organize his papers.

  But she didn’t want to hear it. She had made a surprise dinner for their six-month anniversary.

  Who the hell celebrates six-month anniversaries?

  Now she was shoving armfuls of her clothes into her fake Louis Vuitton suitcase. Juan couldn’t help but stare at Lisa’s rear as she tried to press the suitcase shut. She was wearing black yoga pants and a hot-pink halter top that exposed her trim midriff.

  He sighed. At the same time that his libido was telling him how much fun it was to be with a nineteen-year-old—a woman more than a decade his junior—his brain was arguing that maybe her leaving him was a good thing. He needed to be with someone more mature.

  She glanced at the table laden with food and growled, “I hope you choke on it.” Turning with a huff, she threw her apartment key at Juan’s feet, and stormed out, slamming the door behind her. Her lingering perfume and the cold dinner were the only hints that she’d ever been there.

  Juan shook his head. “One of these days, I need to reevaluate my priorities.”

  ###

  Frank smiled as he watched Megan standing at the kitchen sink filling a basin with warm water. Ever since the dog had come into their lives, something had changed about his wife. She was whistling a random tune and bustling about with a purpose that he hadn’t seen since… since Kathy, their only child, had lived with them.

  The dog sat at her feet, watching attentively as she poured some salt into the bowl and explained to him, “Jasper, Dr. Dew said we need to keep your stitches clean, so no fussing, you hear?”

  The dog woofed his agreement.

  Carefully placing the bowl on the floor, Megan sat cross-legged next to it and dipped a washcloth into the salted water. “Okay, give me your paw.”

  Jasper lifted his front right paw, and Megan carefully held it with one hand, dabbing at the shaved area where the veterinarian had stitched the wound. When it was cleaned to her satisfaction, she let go of Jasper’s paw, but the dog continued to hold it up, as if knowing she wasn’t done yet. />
  Frank set his newspaper aside and watched his wife carefully apply the antibiotic ointment to the wound.

  As she finished, she leaned close and gave the dog a kiss on the top of his nose. “Good boy, Jasper. Now don’t lick that stuff off just yet. Let it do its job.”

  The dog glanced at the wound and gave an affirmative bark.

  Megan rubbed the side of Jasper’s neck and stood. “After I clean up in here, I’ll go turn on Clifford for you, okay?”

  The dog wagged his tail, sauntered off to the living room, and lay down with his head facing the TV as if waiting for Megan to keep her promise.

  Frank shook his head. “Megan, did it ever strike you as odd that you’re talking to this dog like it’s a kid, and the damned thing seems to understand everything he’s being told?”

  Megan shrugged as she washed her hands. “He’s a good boy, and smart.”

  Too smart, Frank thought. But at least the animal was well behaved. As Frank settled back onto his recliner, he put his face back into the newspaper and grumbled to himself, “I wish Kathy had listened as well as that damned dog does.”

  Chapter Three

  Two weeks after receiving the e-mail from Human Resources, Juan was seated in his manager’s office, bracing himself for the worst.

  His manager, a forty-something business type with a Harvard diploma hanging on his wall, flipped through the pages of Juan’s employee file. “Juan, as you know, the economy’s been going through a downturn and the company has little choice but to go through some belt-tightening. Significant tightening—this is the company’s largest-ever round of layoffs. It’s tough on everyone involved.” He paused. “Well, I guess I should just get this over with.”

  Juan didn’t like the way that sounded. Had he been laid off? Over the years, he’d overheard the snide criticisms coming from his peers due to his unconventional research approach. But he remained confident that he was on the right track. Pieces of his work were beginning to bear fruit. If only he were allowed more time…