Rescue (Emily and Mason) (8 page)

Taylor has long left the scene by the time I arrive back at
Baby’s cage, telling Gail I’ll catch up with her shortly. Emily’s face is
forlorn as she rubs the German shepherd’s ears, her fingers fumbling along in
the fur. I think before I got here she might have been crying.

“We’ll figure something out,” I tell her softly, leaning my
shoulder against the pen frame as I cross my arms over my chest. I have to do
something with them to stop from pulling Emily into a hug again. She hasn’t
said she’s see me tomorrow at lunch yet.

“I should just call the owner of this place and let him know
that Taylor’s walking around like a bulldog ever since-” Emily cuts herself off
quickly, glancing up at me with a worried expression.

“Ever since what?” I have a feeling I’m not going to like
the answer.

“It’s nothing,” Emily tells me quickly, shrugging one
shoulder. I’m about to push the issue, but I remember that Emily doesn’t like
to be pushed.

“Alright, like I said, we’ll figure something out.” I have
one thing in mind, it’s drastic, but it’ll have to do if I can get it all
together by tomorrow. Right now, Emily has to tend to the puppy back in one of
the empty medical exam rooms, and I have to find Gail. Just as I’m about to
leave, Emily puts a gentle hand on my arm. She looks at me with a flush on her
cheeks, but her eyes never waver.

“I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch,” she tells me, and then she
lets me go. I don’t show her how relieved I am of that statement, not wanting
to frighten her off. I just nod and leave the room to find my supervisor.

Emily

I’m lying in bed, the sunlight hitting my sheets that are
over top of my head. I’ve had this dream so many times that I know what to
expect when I turn my head to my left, so this time I don’t. Instead, I close
my eyes in the dream and focus on breathing in and out, trying to ignore the
smell of Gain. I feel someone touch my shoulder hesitantly and try not to
cringe at the physical contact.

“I’m sorry,” I hear her voice whisper all around me, echoing
off the walls gently, quietly. It’s strange how our subconscious tells us
exactly what we want to hear. I squirm away from the bony hand and will myself
to wake up.

“Emily,” my mother says my name loudly, and then I’m awake.
I sit up in bed as straight as a board and inhale deeply as if I’ve been
holding my breath for hours. I look down at my shaking hands and feel the
wetness on my cheeks beginning to dry.

It’s not until she says my name again that I realize it
wasn’t my mother speaking to me. It was Laura. Her hand is not on my shoulder
anymore. It’s shaking as she holds it over her mouth. She looks like she might
cry or vomit. I’m not sure. I furrow my brows and wonder what has her riled up.

“What’s the matter?” I ask her, hoping that it’s not Jim.
Her hand slowly lowers, and she tries to catch her breath.

“You were thrashing and screaming, I couldn’t get you to
wake up. Emily, I think you were having a night terror.” I look down at my
shaking hands and feel the wetness on my face. It’s on my forehead too, so it’s
not just tears. I put a finger to the sweat and try to get my racing heart to
calm down.

“I’m sorry, it must have just been a nightmare,” I try to
ease her worry and throw the covers off me. Except instead of wearing the
pajamas I went to bed in, I’m wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt I don’t
remember putting on. My feet are covered in grass, and when I inspect myself
further, there’s dirt under my fingernails. “Laura, I think I sleep walked.”

“We’re going to have to call your therapist, see what this
is about.” I haven’t told her about the fact that I stopped seeing the
therapist a few months ago. The woman never bothered to call here, and I never
bothered to explain to Laura and Jim that I’m too broken to be fixed.

“I’ll tell her at my next session,” I uneasily lie, feeling
a flush hitting my cheeks. “I think I should shower,” Laura nods and gives me
one last look before she leaves the room. I quickly grab my cellphone to see
what time it is and curse under my breath when I realize it’s nine thirty in
the morning. I’m over two hours late.

Today is the worst day for me to be late. I grab some
clothes and quickly jog down the hall to the bathroom, showering in lukewarm
water and barely getting my hair dry before I put it up into a ponytail. I make
sure to get all the dirt out from under my nails and try not to think about
where I must have been last night.

When I get downstairs, I quickly submit my work to my online
classes and type in some very short response to questions on the discussion
boards. I grab my keys off the hook and don’t bother telling Laura goodbye as I
run out the door. I slide in behind the wheel of my car, and the blood drains
right out of my face.

There’s dirt on the mat of the car, and grass. I
drove
in my sleep last night? I didn’t even know someone could do that without
getting into an accident. Trying to breathe normally, I start the car and
attempt not to squeal the tires as I pull away from the curb. I sincerely hope
that no one has gotten to the shelter yet to look at Baby. I want to be there
when the first drove of people start wading in through those doors to keep her
calm.

If she bites a visitor, it will have to be reported. Then
she will have to be put down.

My heart is still racing when I pull into the parking space
beside Mason’s car with the alien on the hood. I almost scratch his door when I
fling my own open and try to scramble out of the car, seeing people coming in
already. I realize then that I submitted the work for Monday because it’s
Saturday. I’m too late.

There are a few ‘excuse me’s and ‘pardon me’s that I toss
out as I try to get to the dog kennel room. When I finally arrive, I see that
Baby’s pen is empty, and the sign is gone. In fact, it looks like the dog bed,
and her lone chew toy are missing. The blood drains out of my face for the
third time today as I realize that someone must have gotten there and adopted
her already. I didn’t even get to say goodbye!

Mason comes around the corner with a dog on a leash, a
younger couple following him. He sees the look on my face and glances at the
pen that Baby used to be in. He looks sorry, and I know right then and there
that she’s gone. She either bit someone and was euthanized, or someone adopted
her. I really hope that someone adopted her. Maybe a nice family that has a
large yard she can play in.

As he’s passing, Mason puts a hand on my shoulder briefly
and then walks away, saying something. I can’t hear what he says as he passes,
not over the yapping of Chihuahuas as two kids get into the pen to play with
them. I see their mother laughing and try to hide my frustration and worry as I
go over to plead the Chihuahuas’ case for adoption.

“They’re really great dogs, and they don’t eat a lot
considering they’re so small.” The woman smiles at me and then looks back at
her children, a boy and a girl. They’re probably around six or seven and twins,
blonde hair and gray eyes. I wonder if that’s what my mother looked like when
she was young.

“Do they all have to be adopted together?” She seems
genuinely interested in the dogs, so I throw myself into the art of persuasion.

“No, but they were all brought in together. I’m sure they
would appreciate going home together.” The woman doesn’t look too convinced, so
I throw myself into it harder. “They’re siblings,” I tell her, and that seems
to soften her a little. After several minutes of pleading from her own two
kids, the fuzzy ones all get to go home together.

I make my way to the front of the building to get them the
paperwork and hurry back before the woman can change her mind. These guys need
a good home, and I’m sure one with two kids will keep them entertained enough.
I help her pick out three small harnesses and leashes. Then I walk them all out
to their car and help them load up. It takes a bit of finagling, but the kids
each end up holding a dog while one dog sits in the front seat.

Now that one of the cages is cleared out, we can move one of
the other dogs from the back up front, so they get more exposure. I head into
the building to do just that and keep an eye out for Mason. He must be in the
medical room helping give final shots to the animals that have been adopted. I
pick out a pit bull that’s been here for over three weeks. He’s a homely
looking dog, but he’s one of the friendliest ones here.

Mason

One more microchip to go and I’m done for the day. Visiting
hours were over about half an hour ago, but a lot of the cats were adopted
today. There’ll be more coming in soon, but it’s nice to see that there’s a
flow going on instead of just a bunch of abandoned pets piling up on the
doorstep. Gail takes the last kitten out to its new owner and returns with cat
hair all over the front of her and a few scratches up her arms. I’m not faring
much better.

“Did you get that gash washed out?” She asks me, taking my
arm before I can protest and rolling up the sleeve of the long sleeved shirt
I’m wearing.

“I did, it’s fine, Mom.” I tell her with a grin on my face,
and she rolls her eyes at me. We’re developing an easy friendship over these
past few weeks; I just wish I could say the same about Emily. Sure, we’re
spending each day at lunch together and sometimes we’re companionably cleaning
up pens or cages in one of the various rooms around here.

“Don’t ever call me Mom again, I’m not quite old enough for
that,” Gail chides, a little embarrassed smile on her face. I pat her on the
shoulder as I leave the room to find Emily. I’m sure she’s been worried about
Baby all day. Judging from the look on her face I’m pretty sure she didn’t get
my earlier comment about Baby being where she needed.

I’ve had the poor dog in one of the empty stalls next to the
horses all day to keep her away from the crowds gathering. Just as I’m about to
give up and go find the dog instead of the person, Emily comes around one of
the corners, and her tense shoulders relax when she sees me. I wonder if she
knows that her lips curl up on either side in a tiny smile whenever she looks
at me. Probably not, I’m pretty sure is a subconscious gesture.

The smile I give back to her is pretty much subconscious
too, a natural reaction to her small smile. I motion at the hair all over my
front when she gets nearer and make a show of pulling off my shirt. There’s
another one in the empty exam room. After an incident with a kitten with
diarrhea having an accident all over my front, I bring extra clothes to work.

“Clothes are mandatory Mason,” Taylor says when he comes
around the corner behind Emily. I ignore him and slip into the exam room with
Emily on my tail. It’s not that she’s trying to avoid Taylor, okay, maybe she
is.

“Yes, clothes are mandatory, put your shirt back on and tell
me what happened to my dog.” I quirk an eyebrow at Emily’s demanding tone and
realize that the tiny smile has disappeared. Her initial response is seeing me
has dissipated.

First I pull on my t-shirt, and when Emily catches sight of
the nasty gash on my forearm she crinkles her brows and purses her lips. Without
a word, she goes to the medicine cabinet and pulls out some antibiotic cream
along with some gauze and bandaging. I don’t say anything as she takes my arm
and lays it down on the counter, making me bend over in the process. Her face
is close to mine as she swabs on the ointment and wraps up my arm. A strange
buzzing starts in my ears and radiates down through my entire body. Is this
what it feels like to be completely loved?

As soon as she’s finished she takes a step back from me, the
crinkle between her brows. Her expression of worry is replaced with an entirely
different worry, the worry she feels for Baby. As soon as the thought pops into
my mind I remember how to breathe again. I try to clear my throat without
giving away just how much her touch shook me.

“Baby’s in the barn with the horses,” I tell her quietly,
trying to look her in the eyes. Emily keeps her gaze off me and nods once, her
throat working.

“Then she wasn’t adopted today,” she says. I can hear relief
and sadness in her tone at the same time. I shrug one shoulder and look at the
door to make sure that Taylor isn’t looking for me.

“I filled out the paperwork this morning. It’s about time I
moved out of my Dad’s anyway.” There’s a lot in that statement, and Emily takes
a few minutes to process it all.

“You mean, you adopted her? And you have a
house
?” She
seems shocked that I would have another place to live, and I look at the
ceiling. I haven’t told any of the women I’ve been with this secret of mine.
Hell, my Dad doesn’t ever mention it.

“I do, it was my mother’s. She left it to me when she passed
along with enough to pay the taxes for it for the next five years or so.” Emily
looks completely shocked, her eyes wide and her lips parted slightly. I smile
at her and close the gap between us, reaching out my finger to tap underneath
her chin. Emily closes her mouth with an audible snap and blinks a few times to
regain consciousness.

“Wow, I don’t know what to say,” she says finally, still
only about half a foot between us.

“You don’t have to say anything,” I shrug, she really
doesn’t. It’s written all over her face. Finally, I don’t have to close the gap
between us because Emily takes that final step towards me and wraps her arms
around me gingerly as if she’s testing the waters. I put one arm around her,
the one that doesn’t have the bandage on it.

“I won’t get to see her anymore,” Emily says forlornly, and
I scrunch my eyebrows together. What does she mean?

“I’m going to bring her to work with me, and I thought that
maybe you could come over and help me clean the place out. I’ll need a woman to
help with that. Last time I operated the vacuum I blew the motor so my father
won’t let me touch another one.” Emily snorts and it sounds watery. I push her
back with my free hand to look at her teary eyed face, her chin wobbling.

“Of course I’ll come over!” She says, trying to smile
through the tears. “I’m just so happy,” she says, trying to scrub them away
with the palms of her hands. I don’t understand why women cry when they’re
happy, but apparently it’s an unanswerable phenomenon.

As the tears wash some of the cover up away under her eyes,
I see some of the dark circles and a scowl touches my features. My entire body
stiffens as I tilt her head up to look at the circles, wondering what would be
keeping Emily up at night. She still hasn’t explained to me what she means by
‘Laura and Jim’ and not Mom and Dad. Are they abusive people? Was she really
that worried about Baby? I should have found her and told her sooner.

“You should go home and get some rest. It’s Saturday, why
don’t you come over tomorrow afternoon and we’ll have a quick lunch.” Emily
looks like she’s going to balk on the offer, but finally nods once as she
washes her hand in the sink. I feel relaxed and a ball of anticipation building
up in the pit of my abdomen all at the same time.

“Good, do you want to see Baby now?” The look on her face
says it all. I lead the way to the empty stall in the barn and find Baby
nestled up on top of a square bale of hay. Her ears perk and her tail thumps
once when she sees us, at home in a barn rather than in a pen.

“I was worried about you! You should have barked!” Emily
fake scolds with her finger out. Baby glides off the bale of hay. There’s no
other way to describe it. I swear the dog is mostly wolf at heart and not a
real dog. She nuzzles Emily’s hand as if in apology and I turn away at that
point, allowing the two of them some time to part.