Whippoorwill (22 page)

Holly called me at my job twice to check on a boy named Guy, who worked at Joey's Scoops with me and was sort of cute, but not really. They had flirted at a dance, even kissed, but then Guy had started dating a girl named Ellie. Ellie and Guy had dated until the end of the school year, but now Guy was on the market again, and Holly was creeping. She wanted to know what Guy's schedule was, and when I told her I didn't know, she blew a whistle of exasperation.

“You've got to find out,” she said. “It's important, Clair.”

“He's here now.”

“But I can't come down there the first day you get to work. It would be way obvious.”

“I have to work, Holly. I have to get off.”

“I'll come down later, maybe, if I can convince my jerk-face brother to drive me.”

As soon as she hung up, the phone rang again. It was Danny. The I.D. on the phone actually said “Concord Correctional Facility.” I looked at Ina, the shift supervisor, and she made a rolling motion with her hand. Take it, but get moving. Ina was nineteen and a sophomore at UNH.

“Sorry,” I said to her, then I pushed the button to get Danny.

“Clair?”

“Danny, what are you doing calling?”

“I was able to get a phone out. Long story. I'm getting more privileges. I'm going to be able to call out more often.”

“Your dad showed up and wants Wally. He's my dog now. You have to tell him.”

“I have told him. That's why I'm calling now. I didn't want you to think I put him up to it.”

“Then why's he asking for Wally?”

“He just wants things, Clair. You have to be careful of him. He'll use Wally to hurt you or me. I don't know. He's like that.”

“I am not giving Wally to him.”

“He thinks he can sell the dog, that's all. Wally, I mean. If he can make ten bucks off him, then that's what he'll do.”

“We'll pay him for the dog, if it comes to that.”

“He'll hold out for a price. That's the way he is. Be careful of him.”

“Listen, I'm at work, Danny.”

“Okay, but I can call now. That's what I wanted to say. If that's all right with you, I mean. That's a condition they want to put on it.”

“You can call sometimes. Not a lot, I don't think. But sometimes.”

“Okay, I will. Did you get my letter about the car?”

“Dad said I can't do that. He said someone would want it. Your father, probably.”

“That's what I was going to say anyway. The registration on the car has my dad's name on it too, so I can't give it to you even though I want to. Dad said.”

“He visited you?”

“No. We talked on the phone. It was weird.”

He didn't say anything. I looked over at Ina, and she gave me a look to tell me to get off the phone. I couldn't imagine what a phone call with a father you tried to kill might be like. I couldn't get my mind around it.

“I have to go, Danny. I'm at work.”

“I want you to have Wally. You know that, right?”

“I do, Danny. I'm hanging up now. Stay strong, okay?”

“I will.”

I clicked off and slid the phone into my pocket. Ina pointed to the floor and the grill hood. Both needed cleaning.

Father Jasper says all creatures go away from pain and go toward pleasure. Dogs do it and so do humans. It's a simple rule, but it's something you need to remember.

It was raining hard by the time I made it home. Dad was already there, sitting on the porch and doing something with a screwdriver on a piece from his motorcycle. Wally sat beside him, his lead tied to my dad's chair. I bent down and kissed Wally's nose. The rain smelled good and it sounded nice coming off the roof. Dad had a cup of tea beside him. It was still warm enough to steam.

“I talked with Elwood,” he said when I finished with Wally. “He was out in the yard and I went over and had a talk with him.”

“And what did he say?”

“He's pulling out all the scrap metal in the back. The old tractors and such. The price of metal is up, even for old buckets like those tractors. He's cleaning the place up to sell it. He's still in pretty horrible shape. I don't think his face is ever going to be right again.”

“What about Wally, Dad?”

“He wants a thousand dollars.”

“What? You're kidding me, right?”

My dad looked at me. He didn't need to explain that he didn't have a thousand dollars hanging around.

“It's probably just a bargaining ploy. He wants to set the price way up and see how high we'll jump. He doesn't want the dog, I don't think.”

“What a terrible man. He just wants to hurt me or Danny or even Wally.”

“I agree, Clair, but he has us over a barrel. He does. It's his dog, technically.”

“Tell him to prove it.”

“He could if he needed to. He could get neighbors to testify. Now, don't misunderstand me. We're going to make sure Wally stays with us, but in the meantime we probably need to tie him out again.”

“I'm not doing that.”

He looked at me. He looked tired and scared. Scared that I would hate him, scared that he let me down. I felt bad for him, but I didn't care. Wally was my only concern.

“I'll make him a counteroffer. Say five hundred. He's not going to get more than that from anyone else. I'll offer cash money and he'll think about it and then he'll say yes. That's the way these guys work. He's all bluff.”

“No, he's not,” I said, because I knew he wasn't.

“No offense, Wally,” Dad said, petting Wally's neck, “but he is not worth five hundred even. He's not, Clair. He might be to us, but not to anyone else.”

“If you offer five hundred, he'll hold out for a thousand. Or he'll give Wally away for spite. He will. I don't know how I know it, but I do.”

“He may not be as bad as you think, Clair. He's greedy, that's all.”

“He's more than greedy. He deserved what he got from Danny. You said so yourself.”

“Well, that's the way it sits right now. He said we could wait until you got home.”

“He wants to tie him out now, in the rain?”

Dad didn't say anything. His head moved a fraction of an inch to say yes.

N
OW IT WAS CRUELER
. Wally knew what it was like inside, knew what it was to be loved, to be warm and out of the elements. I heard him outside, whining, his chain occasionally clinking. I couldn't stand it. I put cotton in my ears and tried to drown it out with music, but nothing worked. I knew where Wally was, and he knew where I was, and leaving him out like that made my heart empty.

Dad had taken him over to the Stewarts'. He had offered to keep Wally, just on loan, as it were, but Elwood refused, stating that he was the sort to have things lined up. He liked order. He pointed out that he might have a customer for Wally, and then where would he be? The customer wouldn't be able to see the dog because it was in our house, and that wouldn't work, would it? No, he concluded, better to let the dog stay out and get accustomed to his house again. Besides, he added, the weather was no longer a problem for the foreseeable future.

The entire conversation turned my blood to acid. I worried that he would simply get rid of Wally or take him out and shoot him. I wouldn't put it past him.

But I'll admit this: I was afraid of Elwood. As much as I loved Wally, I still couldn't bring myself to go over and get him. It was like it had been earlier when I was too lazy, or too bored, or too self-involved, to take a stand and get Wally in the first place. I hated that about myself, but it was a streak I couldn't deny.

I had so much cotton in my ears, and the music was so loud, that I didn't hear my dad knock. Finally he pushed the door open and I shrieked.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he said, holding up his hand. “Sorry to barge in, but I knocked and you didn't answer.”

“I'm trying not to hear Wally,” I said, and turned down the music.

“I came up to tell you that I'm running over to Jebby's. I won't be long, but I don't want you to go over to Wally. Do you understand me?”

I nodded.

“I mean it, Clair. You won't improve the situation by annoying Elwood. He's a dangerous man. I know how you feel, but the dog belongs to him.”

“Bull.”

“By law.”

“Go ahead,” I said, giving in. “I won't harass him.”

“He's not someone I trust.”

“Join the club.”

“Just leave him alone. I have your word, right?”

I nodded again.

“I'm sorry about all this, Clair. I am.”

“I know. Seems like people always take from us, though. It's never the other way around. You ever notice that?”

Dad gazed at me an unusually long time, finally shrugged, then pulled the door shut. I turned the music back up, but it bored me. I switched to an old
Law & Order
on my computer, and I put the headphones over my ears. I heard Dad's Harley splatter away.

My phone vibrated a little later and it was Holly. She still wanted to know about Guy and whether I thought he was over Ellie. I told Holly I had no clue, no way to know, that she should ask him herself. She wondered too if they had had sex. She had heard a rumor that they had, but it wasn't confirmed. I didn't get into it with her.

“What are you all gloomy about?” she asked.

I told her about Wally. She knew most of it already, but she didn't know the latest development.

“That sucks,” she said. “I know how much you love that dog, Clair.”

“Sometimes it feels like everything just drops away from me and my dad. Like we can't hold on to anything, not even a stupid dog. Wally is right back where he started, and Mr. Stewart may just kill him. Just to be horrible. The thing is, Wally would think he was playing right up to the moment he killed him. That's what I can't stand. He would think you were playing if you put a gun to his head.”

“Oh, jeez, Clair.”

I let her change the topic and we talked about her two monster girls, the ones she took care of as a nanny, and she told a few stories about the girls' mom and how terrible she was. She said the mom ate celery sticks and Marshmallow Fluff and gave them to the girls, too. She called them Angel Wings. The girls loved them. The girls always had Fluff lines around their lips and on their fingers.

“You okay?” she asked before we hung up. “You want me to come over or something?”

“No, it's okay. I have to work tomorrow.”

“You could come over here, Clair. Just to get away from hearing Wally.”

“I want to hear him.”

I didn't know if that was the truth, but I let it stand.

“I wish I could do something to help,” Holly said.

“You're my friend. That helps.”

“I'm glad,” she said, and hung up after a few more minutes.

After that I got ready for bed. I washed my face and put on some Noxzema to dry up a zit I was getting on my chin, then I climbed into bed and did nothing for a while. I didn't hear Wally and that put me into a panic. I kept the lights off and walked to the window and looked down to see him. I thought of Danny and I thought of that first time I had really seen them together, and my insides felt like they might cave down into a lump in my stomach and stay there forever.

It took a long time for my eyes to adjust, but eventually I saw Wally. He lay on the ground beside the house, his chin resting on his paws. Light barely found him. When he moved his head to bite at a bug, the chain made a sound like it had in the old days. He was waiting, I knew. He was waiting for me or for anyone else who wanted to show him kindness. He didn't judge that no one came by, though I knew his heart must have been broken. He simply waited, not expecting much, never counting on anything.

I heard it a long way off.

It came like buffalo running. I sat up in bed and I knew the sound but I couldn't place it at first. Then my heart filled. It filled in a torrent and sleep slid away like ice shedding from a roof. I pulled on my clothes as fast as I could and the sound kept building. It grew to every space, filled it like foam or water, and then it was the only thing, the whole world vibrating.

I ran downstairs and the sound grew bigger and bigger and I went out on the porch. The rain from earlier had disappeared and now the air hung cool and crisp and moist. I heard them coming, a hundred motorcycles, two hundred, and they rode hard, gunning, and I started to cry. Because I knew where they were headed, knew why they were coming, and they weren't the Hells Angels or anything as tough, but they were coming to help me and I knew it. Maybe it was a small thing, not a big rally or a fight against social injustice, but my dad had saddled them up, called in all favors, every last one for his daughter, and I could feel the boom in my gut.

Then they came down our street. If you've never heard a couple hundred Harleys running full bore, then you can't imagine it. The windowpanes in our old windows chattered. The trees shook. Lights came on everywhere. And then they rolled up onto the Stewarts' lawn, their bikes hissing and loud, the engines sucking everything out of the air. They pointed their noses at the Stewarts' house, shining light on the cockroach named Elwood, and I saw my dad dismount and wave to me and I knew what he wanted.

Dad kissed my cheek, yelled into my ear, and he nodded when we both understood.

I ran to get Wally. I knelt beside him, and I saw his eye was swollen shut with blood, and his lip was fat and misshapen. Someone had kicked him, no doubt Elwood. I kissed his stupid head and held him for a second, then I grabbed him off his line and brought him with me. He couldn't hear a thing and the motorcycles, the lights, made him crazy, but I brought him and put him in my dad's pickup and I backed out with an escort of a couple hundred Harleys. I rolled down my window to spit at the Stewarts' property, at Elwood, because he could not have my dog, would never have my dog, and that was all there was to it. I drove carefully, not sure where all the bikes were, and I saw Jebby with his rhino head, and a few other men I knew, and they all nodded. And you had to laugh—this great commotion over a dog, and how silly it was to have a motorcycle gang with no more toughness than to liberate a neighborhood hound—but it had given them something to do and they looked happy and solemn and proud of themselves. I held out my hand and waved and they gunned up after me, falling into position, and I had my own phalanx of Harley men, more than I could see, all of them getting their bikes to blat and shiver and cause people to sit up in their beds.