The Dog (20 page)
“Dog! Come here, dog! Where are you?”
The boy's voice suddenly interrupts the silence of the meadow, causing the rabbit to turn and run. I leap after it, landing in a patch of mud, and then I freeze as I hear footsteps in the distance.
I would have had that rabbit in my jaws by now, if it hadn't been startled.
“Dog! I want to be your friend! I've got something for you!”
Daring to look above the top of the long grass, I see that the boy is still quite a way off. The scent of meat reaches my nose, and I immediately feel a pang of hunger. A moment later, I'm able to see what looks like a small strip of meat in his left hand, and he's holding it up high as if he wants it to be seen. I know I should run and hide, but the prospect of food – even just a small scrap – keeps me rooted to the spot. I can't think of anything else.
“I saved this for you!” he shouts. “Technically I'm not allowed to give you food, but this is from my plate so no-one'll know! Are you still here?”
I wait.
Silence, followed a moment later by the sound of him heading toward the ridge.
“I won't hurt you!” he calls out. “I want to be your friend!”
I don't dare make a move, in case he spots me. I haven't been near a human since Melissa, Thomas and their friends, and they were mean enough to scare me for life. At the same time, the smell of meat is so strong and so appetizing, and I can't quite bring myself to turn and run. Without even thinking properly, I start edging forward while frantically sniffing the air.
“I'll put it here!” the boys shouts. “I hope you get it before one of the rabbits comes! You looked so thin last night, I don't want you to be hungry!”
I wait, and finally I hear his footsteps hurrying away. After a few more minutes, once his scent is much weaker, I finally dare come out from the long grass, and I immediately spot a small strip of meat resting on the grass. A rabbit is already edging closer, so I run forward and scare it away, before taking the meat and swallowing it whole.
“Dog!” the boy yells, suddenly breaking out from behind a bush. “Wait!”
Turning, I run, and I don't stop until I'm sure I've lost him. Still, the taste of meat was good, and I desperately want more. I just need to find a way to get hold of the meat without letting the humans come too close.
The boy comes again the next day, and the next, and each time he brings a little more food. I don't dare approach while there's a chance that he might catch me, so both times I wait in the bushes, fighting the urge to snatch the meat from its spot out there on the grass. I always wait upwind of the food, though, so that my scent will warn rabbits away, and finally I take the meat late in the afternoon.
On the next day, the boy brings his sister, and now there's a little more meat. I don't know why they're doing this, but I figure I might as well stick around for now. So long as they keep feeding me and they don't get too close, I'd be a fool to leave the meadow. I can tolerate their presence if it means that I get some extra scraps.
The older humans are out in the fields every day, shouting at one another as they dig ditches. I don't know what they're doing, but they seem very busy.
Finally, on the seventh or eighth day, I decide to be a little braver.
Once the two children have left meat for me, I hurry out and gulp it down whole, and then I keep low as I run past the edge of the forest. Stopping at the ridge, I see that the children are racing across one of the fields, so I set off after them, keen to see where they go each day and whether they've found some hidden food source.
I follow them for a few hours, until they stop when they reach the long metal rails that run across the land. I've seen the rails before, but I've never dared spend too long near them since I have no idea what they are. They're definitely something from the human world, and they spread all the way through the meadow and off to the horizon, and the metal gets warm sometimes in the afternoon sun.
Staying low in the long grass, I edge toward to the spot where the children are hopping and skipping across the rails. Whatever they're doing out here, they don't seem to have noticed that I've followed. Once again, I'm lucky that the human sense of smell is so terrible.
“Mom says she saw a train once,” the boy is saying as I get closer. “She was actually on one. Apparently we were, too, back when we were just babies. I wish I could remember what the world used to be like.”
“Do you think they'll ever come back?” the girl asks. She seems a year or two younger than the boy, and something about her face reminds me a little of Julie. “I'd like to see a train. Even if I couldn't ride on one, I'd at least like to see what they look like.”
“Dad says they can't,” the boy explains. “He says they're rusting away somewhere and that no-one would be able to get them running again. But I know Mom thinks he's wrong. She thinks there might be trains again, and planes in the air too. I'd love to see a plane. Sometimes I think they can't be real, that everyone's lying when they say people used to fly, but Mom and Dad and Grandpa say they all flew once, before we were born. Apparently you used to have to get checked out before you were allowed on a plane.”
“Why?”
“In case you were trying to hurt people.”
The girl frowns. “But why?”
“I don't know, that's just what Mom told me. People sometimes tried to make planes crash. I guess people did weird things back then.”
He reaches down and pulls a tuft of weeds out from between the metal rails.
“Sometimes their stories make it sound like everything wasn't perfect. Like, I can't even imagine living with so many other people all around. Remember those photos Mom showed us, the ones of New York? How did people ever live like that? I think I'd go crazy, I'd end up -”
Suddenly he glances this way, and we make eye contact again.
I get to my feet, growling and ready to run.
Fumbling in his pocket, the boy pulls out another piece of meat and quickly throws it toward me.
“That's for you!” he stammers. “It's okay, we don't want to hurt you! We just want to be your friend!”
I know I should run, but the meat already smells irresistible, and after a moment I scamper forward. After swallowing it whole, I retreat into the grass.
“Give him yours!” the boy says, turning to the girl.
She takes some meat from her pocket and throws it toward me. I hesitate again, before crawling forward while keeping my eyes fixed on them. I don't growl this time, but I make sure to take the meat quickly and then I hurry into the grass again.
“What's your name?” the boy asks, taking a cautious step toward me. He taps his chest. “I'm Harry, and this is my sister Sophie.”
He said my name again. My old name. But it's not my name now, I realize that, even if it brings back certain memories.
“Harry,” the girl says, tugging at his arm. “Be careful. He's wild.”
“I know, but...”
“He's wild! Wild animals can be dangerous!”
“He doesn't look
that
wild. He's kinda small and cute.”
He peers at me, as if something has caught his attention. After a moment he edges closer, and this time I stand my ground and wait to see what he'll do next. He seems friendly, but I've learned that humans can't be trusted.
“Can I pat you?” he asks, kneeling in front of me.
I know I should growl, to warn him away, but somewhere deep down I'm starting to remember those times in the past when I used to let strangers get close. Memories that I'd pushed aside during my years alone out here are now rushing back.
Reaching out, Harry finally places a hand on my side, and for the first time in many years I feel fingers gently running through my fur.
“It's okay,” he says calmly. “You're cute. Little and cute. Can I take a look at your collar?”
I wait, tense in case he hurts me, but after a moment he turns my collar slightly and leans closer.
“Jon Anderson,” he reads out loud, and then he turns to the girl. “He was someone's pet dog once. He must have been out here all alone ever since the bad things happened.” He turns to me again. “Or is Jon Anderson still around? Are you with someone?”
I feel a faint shudder when I hear Jon's name again. Over the years, his scent has completely faded from my collar, but I still remember how he smelled. That's one thing I'll never forget.
“Come and pet him,” Harry continues, stroking my shoulders. “Sophie, don't be scared.”
The girl comes forward cautiously, but after a moment's hesitation she kneels next to me and starts patting my flank.
“See?” Harry says with a smile. “He's friendly. His tail's wagging. Maybe if we take him home, Daddy will say that -”
Suddenly Sophie's hand touches my injured leg. I let out a brief growl as a flash of pain runs through the bone, and the two children pull back.
“I told you he's wild!” Sophie hisses.
“I think he's just hurt,” Harry replies, looking at my leg. “See there? The flesh is all knotted, like it's healed badly. He probably got hurt and there was no-one around to fix him up properly. It's okay, you just touched him in a bad place.”
“He almost bit me!”
“Don't worry, dog,” he continues, touching my shoulder again. “We're friendly. You look very thin, but maybe we can get you some more food. How long have you been all by yourself out here? Do you want to come home with us?”
I don't know what he's saying, but he seems gentle and I can't stop thinking about the meat he's been giving me. If there's even a slight chance that I might get more, then I guess I'm willing to stick close to him for a while. Even if I no longer like humans, they can be useful, and I'm still fast enough to get away if they try to hurt me.
“We should get back,” he says as he stands. “You need a name, dog. I'm going to call you...”
He stares at me for a moment, as if he's lost in thought.
“Ben,” he adds finally.
“Ben?” Sophie asks. “Why Ben?”
“That was our uncle's name, remember? And he was always nice to us. I think this dog is nice too, so I want to call him Ben. Unless you've got a better idea.”
“I just want to get home,” she replies, stepping past him and heading away from the rails, out into the field. “Keep that thing away from me, and don't blame me when he bites your hand off.”
“You won't bite me, will you?” Harry asks, reaching down and stroking my head again. “Maybe you'll even be allowed to sleep inside, if I can talk Mom around. Dad'll be tricky, but if I can persuade Mom, then she'll get him to agree. Come on, Ben, this way.”
He turns and heads off after Sophie.
For a moment, I'm not sure what I should do next. Part of me remembers what it was like to be around humans when Jon was still alive and things were good, and part of me remembers Melissa and Thomas. I've been fine by myself in the meadow, hunting for food and spending my time alone, but I can't deny that the pull of company is stronger than I ever would have guessed.
“Ben!” Harry shouts, turning and waving at me. “Come on!”
Ben.
That seems to mean me.
“Ben!” he yells. “Hurry, Ben! This way!”
I immediately set off after him, although I can't run too fast. My legs are old and painful, and my ribs still hurt even after all these years. I'm old now.
***
“Who do you think they are?” Sophie whispers a little while later, as the three of us sit next to the ridge and watch unfamiliar figures down at the farmhouse. “Do you think they're friendly?”
I thought we were going to go all the way to the house, but instead Harry and Sophie stopped and hid behind the ridge as soon as they saw a large black car ahead. Some new arrivals seem to have shown up, with two men having gone into the farmhouse with Harry's family, and now I can sense the children's fear.
“It's probably okay,” Sophie continues, her voice filled with nerves. “It's probably just... It's just someone who came to say hello, that's all. They'll leave soon.”
“Mom's always scared of new people showing up,” Harry replies.
“Mom's scared of everything. I get it, but... Maybe these people are okay.”
I look over at Harry and see the concern in his eyes. He hasn't said a word for the past few minutes, and he seems far more worried than Sophie.
Hearing voices down at the farmhouse, I turn and watch as the two black-suited figures head back to their car. Harry's parents watch from the doorway, and even from all the way up here I can tell that something isn't right. When the car's engine starts, I instinctively take a step back, reminded of the time I spent in cars with Thomas and his friends, and the scent of the new arrivals seems to be filling the area even as they drive away. Feeling nervous and scared, I turn to walk away, before stopping and looking back at the children.
“Well,
I'm
going down to see what's up,” Sophie says, getting to her feet. “If you two cowards want to hide up here, that's your business.”
As she heads down the slope, I wait for Harry to react, but he's still watching the black car as it disappears into the distance. After a moment, realizing that he's worried and that his heart is pounding, I step over to him and nudge his shoulder. He doesn't reply, so I wag my tail a little as I sit next to him.
“She's probably right,” he whispers finally, turning to me with a faint, forced smile. “I mean... It's probably nothing. I just have a bad feeling, that's all.”
With that, he gets up and heads down the slope.
“Come on, Ben,” he mutters.
I want to go with him, but something about the men in that black car left a horrible stench in the air and I don't dare go any closer. As Harry gets further and further away, I let out a faint whimper, but he doesn't look back at me. I can't go with him, so I decide to wait here at the ridge until he returns.
I think I finally know what I didn't like about the scent of that black car, though. I think I could smell blood on its tires.
