A Dog’s Journey (26 page)

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Authors: W. Bruce Cameron

BOOK: A Dog’s Journey
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“Hi,” someone said in a weak, cracking voice.

“Brought someone to see you,” Trent said. He fumbled with the soft material of the crate and I licked his fingers through the mesh, eager to be let out. Finally he reached in and grabbed me. He hoisted me up in the air and I saw a woman lying in a bed.

“Max!” the woman said, and that’s when I realized it was CJ. Her smell was odd—sour and covered with chemicals—but I recognized her. I struggled to get out of Trent’s arms, but he held me tight.

“You need to be gentle, Max. Gentle,” Trent said. He carefully handed me to CJ, who reached for me with her warm, wonderful hands. I burrowed into her, moaning and crying a little—I couldn’t help it, I was so glad to see my girl.

“Okay, easy, Max. Okay? Easy,” Trent said.

“He’s okay. You missed me, didn’t you, Max. Yes, baby,” she said. I wondered why her voice was so thin and raspy—it didn’t sound much like her at all. There was a plastic leash hanging on her arm, and the room echoed with a beeping noise that was very unpleasant.

“How are you feeling today?” Trent asked.

“Throat still hurts from the tube, but I’m getting a little better. Still nauseated,” CJ said.

I wanted to sniff her up and down to explore all the strange new scents clinging to her, but her hands had a tension in them as they held me, willing me to be still. I did what she wanted.

“I know you think you look like crap, but compared to when you were in ICU, it’s like you’re ready to run a marathon. Your color is back in your cheeks,” Trent said. “Your eyes are clear.”

“I’m sure I look fabulous,” CJ muttered.

A woman stepped into the room and I gave her a low growl to let her know CJ had her protection with her.

“No, Max!” CJ said.

“Max, no,” Trent said. He came over and put his hands on me as well, so that I was pretty effectively pinned as the woman gave CJ something odorless to eat and a small cup of water to drink. It was actually very nice to have both of them holding me, and I remained still.

“What’s his name?” the woman asked.

“Max,” Trent and CJ said together. I wagged.

“He’s not supposed to be in here. Dogs are never allowed.”

Trent took a step in her direction. “He’s such a small dog and he doesn’t bark or anything. Couldn’t he visit for just a minute?”

“I love dogs. I’m not going to tell anyone, but if you get caught, don’t you dare say I knew about it,” the woman replied.

When the woman left, Trent and CJ said, “Good dog,” at the same time, and I wagged.

I could feel a lot of dark emotions in my girl, sadness and hopelessness intermingled, and nuzzling her couldn’t seem to lift her mood. She also was tired—exhausted, even—and soon her hand was no longer holding me but just resting, held there by gravity.

I was confused. Why was CJ in this room? Even more perplexing and upsetting was the fact that Trent soon called me and pulled me away from CJ by my leash.

“We’ll come back in a few days, Max,” Trent said. I heard my name but didn’t understand.

“Good boy, Max. You go with Trent. No, don’t bring him back; I don’t want to get in trouble with the entire medical establishment,” CJ said. I wagged at being a good boy.

“I’ll be back tomorrow. Sleep tonight, okay? And call me anytime if you can’t sleep; I’m happy to talk,” Trent said.

“You don’t have to come here every day, Trent.”

“I know that.”

We went back to Trent’s house. Over the next several days Annie still came to take me for walks with Harvey and Jazzy and Zen, but now, when Trent returned home in the evening, I could faintly pick out CJ’s scent on his hands among all the other odd smells.

We went back to the little room a day or two later and CJ was still taking a nap in the same bed. She smelled a little better, though, and was sitting up when Trent let me out of the soft crate.

“Max!” she called happily. I bounded into her arms and she hugged me. There was no longer a leash on her arm and the beeping noise had stopped. “Close the door, Trent; I don’t want Max getting in trouble.”

While CJ and Trent talked, I curled up in a ball under her arm, staking claim to the spot on the bed so that if Trent left he wouldn’t try to take me with him. I was dozing off when I heard the door open and a woman say, “Oh my God!” from the doorway. I instantly recognized the voice.

Gloria.

She swept into the room, carrying flowers that she pushed at Trent as she went to CJ’s bedside. Gloria smelled of those flowers, plus so many other sweet scents it made my eyes water.

“You look awful,” Gloria said.

“Nice to see you, too, Gloria.”

“Are they feeding you? What is this place?”

“This is a hospital,” CJ said. “You remember Trent.”

“Hello, Miss Mahoney,” Trent said.

“Well, of course I know it’s a hospital; that’s not what I meant. Hello, Trent.” Gloria pushed her face at Trent and then turned back to CJ. “I have never been so worried in my life. The shock of it nearly killed me!”

“Sorry about that,” CJ said.

“Honey, you think I haven’t had bad times, myself? Yet I have always found the strength to go on. You’re only a failure if you see yourself as a failure; I’ve told you that. For this to happen … I nearly fainted. I came the second I heard.”

“Well, ten days,” Trent said.

Gloria looked at him. “Sorry?”

“I called you ten days ago. So it wasn’t exactly the second you heard.”

“Well … there was no point for me to come while she was in a coma,” Gloria said with a frown.

“Of course,” Trent said.

“She does have a point,” CJ said. She and Trent grinned at each other.

“I can’t stand hospitals. Absolutely hate them,” Gloria said.

“You are unique in that,” CJ said. “Most people love them.” This time Trent laughed.

“So, Trent. Do you suppose a mother could talk to her daughter?” Gloria asked coldly.

“Sure.” Trent pushed himself off the wall.

“Take your dog, too,” Gloria told him. I looked at CJ when I heard the word “dog.”

“It’s my dog. His name is Max,” CJ said.

“Call me if you need anything,” Trent said as he walked out the door.

Gloria went over and sat in the lone chair. “Well, this place is certainly depressing. So is Trent back in the picture?”

“No. Trent was never ‘in the picture,’ Gloria. He’s my best friend.”

“All right, call it whatever. His mother, who naturally couldn’t wait to phone me the second she heard my daughter had taken pills with anti-freeze, says that he’s a vice president of his bank. Don’t believe him when he acts like that’s a big deal—at banks, they hand out titles to everybody; it’s how they avoid paying them a decent salary.”

“He’s an investment banker and he
is
very successful,” CJ responded testily.

“Speaking of investments, I have pretty important news.”

“Do tell.”

“Carl is going to propose.”

“Carl.”

“I told you about Carl. He made a fortune selling coin thingies, what you put a quarter in for machines like dryers at the Laundromat. He has a home in Florida with a sixty-four-foot sailboat! He also has an apartment in Vancouver and owns part of a hotel in Vail where we can go whenever we want. Vail! I’ve always wanted to go to Vail but have never met the right person. They say Vail is like Aspen only without all the locals to ruin it.”

“So you’re getting married?”

“Yes. He’s going to propose next month; we’re going to the Caribbean. That’s where he proposed to both his wives. So, you know, two and two together. Want to see his picture?”

“Sure.”

I looked up, yawning, as Gloria handed over something. CJ squealed with laughter. “This is Carl? Is he a Civil War veteran?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

“He’s like a thousand years old.”

“He is not; he’s very distinguished. I’ll ask you not to be rude. He’s going to be your stepfather.”

“Oh lord. How many times have I heard that? What about the one who paid off the mortgage, who you made me call ‘Dad’?”

“Most men are unreliable. Carl’s different.”

“Because he’s ancient?”

“No, because he is still friends with his ex-wives. That says something.”

“Sure does.” CJ put her hand on my head and I became drowsy with the warm feeling of pure love. Soon I was asleep. I woke up, though, when I heard and felt anger in CJ.

“What do you mean you won’t discuss it?” CJ asked Gloria.

“That family was horrible to me. We won’t have anything to do with them.”

“But that’s not fair to me. I’m related to them by blood. I want to know them, who I come from.”

“I raised you all by myself without help.”

I felt a rising sense of sadness in CJ, but she was still angry. “I remember so little from when my dad took me there when I was a kid. I remember … I remember there was a horse. And my aunts, and grandma. It’s all I have, just fragments from when I was like six years old.”

“That’s how it should be.”

“You don’t get to decide that!”

“Now listen.” Gloria stood up and she was angry, too. “You are no longer in high school and I won’t have you behaving like a spoiled child. You’re going to be living under my roof, with my rules. Understand?”

“No, she won’t,” Trent said quietly from the doorway.

They both turned to look at him as he came in.

“This is not your concern, Trent,” Gloria said.

“It is my concern. CJ doesn’t need this right now. She’s supposed to avoid stress. And she’s not going home with you. Her acting career is here.”

“Oh … I don’t think I’m ever going to be an actress,” CJ said.

“Exactly,” Gloria said.

“Then you’ll be
something.
You can do whatever you want. You’re not helpless, CJ. You get to decide
you
have the power,” Trent said emphatically.

“What are you talking about?” Gloria asked coldly.

“You believe me, don’t you, CJ?” Trent demanded.

“I … I can’t stay, Trent. I can’t afford—”

“I have more than enough room at my place—you can move into the spare bedroom until you’re back on your feet.”

“What about Liesl?”

“Oh. Liesl.” He laughed. “We broke up again. I think this one’s going to stick, because I’m not begging her to take me back. I realized finally that what she likes is the drama of breaking up and getting back and breaking up.… It’s like an addiction.”

“When did this happen?”

“The night before you … dropped off Max.”

I wagged.

“I feel awful you’ve been dealing with that and I never asked,” CJ said.

“It’s okay; you’ve been a little distracted,” Trent said with a wry grin.

“Can we please get back to the subject?” Gloria demanded.

“Meaning, what
you
want to talk about?” CJ responded.

“No, that’s not what I mean at all. I mean that we’re leaving Wednesday. Arrangements have already been made,” Gloria said firmly.

“You need to be with someone who believes in you. Me, I believe in you. I’ve always believed in you,” Trent said.

I could feel Gloria’s anger getting worse. “No one is going to accuse me of not ‘believing in my daughter.’ I supported this whole ridiculous move to New York, didn’t I?”


Supported
it!” CJ replied.

“You’re not good for her, Gloria. She needs to heal. You’re the last person who could help her with that,” Trent said.

“I am her
mother,
” Gloria said icily.

“Well, yes, you gave birth to her, that much is true. But she’s a grown-up. Once a child grows up, your work is done.”

“CJ?” Gloria said. I looked at Gloria, who was staring at CJ, and then at Trent, who was looking at Gloria, and then finally at CJ, who was looking back and forth between them. Gloria put her hands on her hips.

“You’ve never thanked me. All the sacrifices I’ve made,” she said bitterly. She turned to stalk out, pausing in the doorway to glare at her daughter. “I’ll be back tomorrow, and we’re leaving the day after, as scheduled. There’s nothing more to be said.” She glared at Trent. “By
anybody.

I wagged because Gloria was leaving. I always felt a little less stressed with her gone.

When Trent and I went back to his home that night, I wondered if this was the new routine: we’d sleep at his place, then go to CJ’s new room with the slick floors. CJ seemed to prefer to live in smaller and smaller places.

Trent tossed a rubber toy for me that bounced crazily across the kitchen, and I chased it and brought it back to him and he laughed and told me I was a good dog.

Later, as he was bending over to scoop some delicious wet food on top of the dry food in my dish, I caught a metallic, unmistakable odor on his breath. I was surprised, but I did what I was trained to do a long time ago.

I signaled.

 

TWENTY-SIX

A few days after the visit from Gloria, CJ came to live at Trent’s place. She put her things in a different room from Trent’s and some of her clothes still had Sneakers’ smell on them. The new living arrangements seemed to fatigue her, as she spent an awful lot of time in her bed and was sad and weak and in pain for most of it. I tried to cheer her up by delivering her chew toys, which Trent kept bringing home in little bags, but other than holding them slackly in her hand for me to tug on, CJ wasn’t interested much in playing.

Trent would come home at least once during the day to let me out. “It’s no problem; I’m right around the corner.”

“Maybe tomorrow I’ll feel up to taking Max for a walk,” CJ said.

“Take your time,” Trent said.

They liked to play a game where Trent would sit by her and wrap her arm in a sweater like mine and then squeeze a little ball. I would hear an odd hiss, and CJ and Trent would hold still. “Good, BP is still good,” Trent would usually say. When it came off, her sweater made the same ripping sound as mine.

I was not allowed to play with that ball because it was apparently Trent’s favorite.

It was Trent who fed me, and I learned that to earn a meal I had to signal when I smelled the odd metallic odor on his breath, which was most times.

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