“Clyde, we can’t do that to him. You saw how traumatized he was. We have to take him with us. We’re the only people he knows.”
“He just met you and he doesn’t like me.”
“I’ll take care of him. I’ll do everything. We’ve already bonded. Look at him.”
I had to admit. It was hard to resist two sets of soft brown imploring eyes. I sighed, knowing I would regret this.
“If Officer Andrews has no issue with it, I guess we can keep him until Sara’s family is ready for him.”
Seth and Tuffy hurried off to the Jeep before I could change my mind. I followed before Tom could make up his mind. He was distracted by the ambulance driver and the need to protect the crime scene.
I should have listened to that little voice that kept saying, “Shelter, shelter, shelter!”
3
Thanks to Seth, Baxter was out of the car again “because he was lonely and worried about us.” After allowing Baxter and Tuffy to do the whole doggy ritual, which involved a lot of sniffing and walking in circles, we put Tuffy in the front and began to wrestle Baxter into the backseat. He stared at the house, carefully watching Officer Andrews and the paramedics. I made Seth pull from the front end this time, thinking I would avoid the drool. The dog made his front legs stiff and then turned and dripped on my arm, which he knew would make me jerk away. Fortunately, Seth was on it, and he pulled Baxter’s face forward just as I let go. I gave Baxter a big shove from behind. The dog chose that moment to leap willingly into the Jeep, leaving me facedown in the dirt. Grateful that Officer Andrews was occupied with the ambulance driver and hadn’t witnessed any of this, I glared at Baxter and slammed the door. He refused to acknowledge me.
Tuffy shivered on Seth’s lap as we drove to my mother’s house to drop off the two unexpected boarders. Baxter slimed both back windows until I cracked one open so he could hang his head out and inhale the passing scenery. Baxter recognized, as we turned onto my street, that we were almost there and began with tail wagging, low woofs, and running the length of the backseat to check both windows. He loved staying at my mom’s.
I’ve been told by too many people to count that my family’s house looks haunted. This statement is usually accompanied by a hopeful or terrified look, depending on the person, due to our reputation. A few blocks away from the downtown area of Crystal Haven, it’s close enough for quite a bit of foot traffic but far enough away that it’s definitely in the residential section. Surrounded by similar Victorian-style homes from early in the last century, ours stands out due to its size and general looming presence.
Painted gray and white—no bright, happy colors here—the Victorian has steeply pitched eaves and a large side porch that wraps around the back. The spires and vertical white accents on the front make it look even taller than its three stories. The large trees in the yard lend a shady gloom even on a sunny summer day.
I pulled into the long gravel driveway and thought yet again that if there were any dead to wake, the rocks pinging my undercarriage would do the trick.
We all piled out and headed for the porch. The front door swung open slowly as we approached. It creaks because Mom refuses to let anyone oil it. She thinks it adds ambience. Then, the door flew open to reveal my aunt. A deep purple shawl was thrown over her shoulders, even though it was mid-July. Vi is always cold and has a vast collection of colorful shawls to combat the “chill.” Her twisted braid of white hair trailed down her back, her black eyes glittered.
“I knew it! I knew you’d be home for lunch,” said Vi as she stepped forward. “I was just telling Rose to get some sandwiches ready, ’cause the kids are on their way.”
I wondered how much the gravel driveway helped my aunt’s intuition.
“We had a small mishap and need to drop off a couple of boarders,” I said as Baxter trotted ahead of me and Seth followed behind with the shivering fur ball in his arms.
“Hello, Baxter. It’s nice to see you again. I hope you enjoy your stay.” Aunt Vi directed her comments to the dog. I waited for her to ask about his luggage.
Baxter sat and allowed himself to be petted and hugged by my aunt.
“Who do you have there?” my mother said as she bustled in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron. She looked calmer than she had that morning. I assumed there had been no more bat sightings.
“This is Tuffy, he needs to stay with us for a couple of days, Nana Rose,” Seth said as he sat in the middle of the entryway and cuddled Tuffy on his lap.
“He’s not well. I can feel it,” said Vi. “You smell awful, Seth.” She was on all fours in front of Tuffy, ducking her head in her “submissive stance.” She claims it puts the animals at ease.
“Isn’t that Sara Landess’s dog?” My mother looked to me.
I set my messenger bag by the front door.
“Mom, come sit down.”