Sleeping Dogs

The retired nurse was drinking a cup of tea in her kitchen. I could see her through the window.
I knocked on her back door. When I had to stop by her house, it was always the back door.
"Lou," she said when she opened it. "I knew it would be you. Would it kill you to stop by in the daytime? Come on in. It's freezing out there."
I stepped into the kitchen. "Hi, Mrs. Lehrig. I just had a quick question. If I've been limping for two days and might be bleeding internally, would that be considered an issue?"
"My god. What happened?"
"A yeti hit me in the back with a board. Actually, it may not have been a yeti. It may have been the insane guy from down the street."
She sighed. "Sit down. Let me take a look. You really should go to the hospital."
"No way. I hate hospitals. And Kline's out of town for Christmas, so you're my best shot here."
She listened to my heart with a stethoscope. "I knew you when you were five years old, Lou. Watched you grow up. And now that I'm retired, you're always showing up on my porch with more injuries than ever. Why are you doing this to yourself?"
"I'm doing some good stuff, Mrs. Lehrig. I'm discovering things, helping people."
"I'm worried about you. I don't want to see you get yourself hurt."
"I'm fine. Just a little banged up."
She began to check my back for broken ribs or something. "What could have happened to you, Lou? For the last year, you've been reckless. What happened to make you think a life of nightly injury is okay?"
"I'm learning. I'm doing good things. And I'm getting better every night---Becoming what I want to be."
"And what about after high school? What about college?"
"If I make it to graduation, I'll think of something."
She shook her head. "You seem okay, but bruised. Rest for a few days."
"Pssh. I'm going exploring. We're going to my grandfather's for Christmas."
"Well, whatever it is you're doing, take Christmas off."
I stood up. "Thanks, Mrs. Lehrig. I'll be allright."

The farmhouse had been in my family for over a hundred years. Tonight, my family was in the farmhouse.
We had all gathered for Christmas Eve at my grandfather's place, an old farmhouse by the Schuylkill River in Montgomery County. There were sleeping bags in every room, and at least a dozen kids running around---My brothers and sister, my cousins.
The old farmhouse was known as Black Rock for old family reasons I'd never understood. It was a big old house on a hill, with a couple of barns and outbuildings, and a lot of forest land surrounding it. Great for adventures.
I stood by the river, looking out with binoculars. It was partially frozen over, but still running. I could see the bridge in the background.
"What're you doing?"
I turned. My cousin Megan was approaching over the meadow, followed by much younger cousins Robert and Joey.
"I'm looking for a water monster," I said. I put the binoculars back in my pack and got out my camera. "I saw something swimming around in here over the summer. Something big, kind of a big black shape. And cousin Donnie said he saw something sticking a long neck out of the water." I took several photos. "I'm gonna name him Monty."
"Dumb," said Megan, and turned and walked back to the house.
"I'm scared of water monsters," said Robert.
"Can we go back inside?" asked Joey.
I sighed. "Yeah, let's go back in."
Indoors, I shrugged off my coat and hung it in the front hallway. It was warmer in the house. In the living room, several cousins were sitting around the coffee table, paging through an old photo album of our family.
"Stay quiet," said my cousin Amy. "Grandmom is sleeping. She's not having one of her good days."
There was coffee on in the kitchen. I checked to make sure it was fresh---All of my grandparents had grown up during the Great Depression, and it would be just like my grandfather to re-use the same coffee grounds for over a week. Evidently Aunt Mary had made the coffee; it was pretty good. I got a cup and watched as cousin Laura paged through the album.
"Look, here we all are playing with Sparky," Laura said. "Grandpop's little beagle. I love that little guy."
"Look, there's that time we all went climbing up the ravine in the summer," said Megan.
"That was fun," I commented. "Remember we hung a flag at the top?"
She nodded. "But it was made of paper, so I don't think it's still there."
"Who's that?" asked my little cousin Michael.
"That's all of us, when we were kids," said Laura. "These are old photos. Look, here are some when you guys came to stay at our house in Boston when you were little. Look, you can see Lou and David dressed like Batman and Robin."
"Oh, god, put that away," I said. "I was like six."
"You two were running around all day in your costumes, looking for clues," said Laura. "Look, here's another. You haven't changed at all."
"I've changed a lot," I said.
"You're exactly the same as when you were six," said Laura. "You're still running around looking for adventure, pretending you're some sort of superhero."
"Things have changed a lot for me," I said. "I'm not the same as when I was a kid! I have a lot more stuff on my mind now, and I've been going through some stuff in the last year. So don't tell me I still act like a little kid."
"You're still out pretending to have adventures."
"Shut up."
"You shut up!"
"Screw you," I said. "I've changed a lot. I'm gonna go out to the barn and look for ghosts."
"There aren't any ghosts in the barn," said Laura.
"Shut up!"
I grabbed my pack and walked through the kitchen and out the back door. Dusty, the old gray cat, with asleep outside the door. My grandfather's farm had a lot of old barn cats that never seemed to change position much---If I wanted to find one specific one, I always knew about where to look.
I walked to the small barn. There was one huge one, and just outside the back porch, a smaller one. I aimed for the small one---It was beginning to snow pretty heavily, and I didn't want to trudge through it to the big barn.
The small barn had a dog pen attached, with a dog house and a hole in the side of the barn. This was for Sparky. My grandfather had owned the little beagle for as long as I could remember. he lived in the pen, and could walk through the hole into the barn in bad weather. There was a light on in the barn. I opened the door and walked in.
My cousin Wendy was crouched on the floor, holding Sparky in her arms. The little beagle was breathing heavily, gasping.
Wendy looked up at me.
"He's dying," she said.

I was stunned for a moment.
Then I took off my pack and knelt beside her.
"How did you find him?" I asked.
"I came out to see how he was doing," said Wendy. "When I get bored, I like to come and check on him. I know you do, too."
I nodded.
"He was in his dog box, all curled up in the corner," she said. "He was shivering. I got him out, and held him, and he's just been laying here. He won't drink any water."
"How long?"
Wendy looked at her watch. "About an hour."
I got out my first aid kit, a solid metal box that I carried in my backpack. I took out a stethoscope and listened to Sparky's heart. Kline was always stealing me all sorts of good stuff.
"He's breathing heavy, fast heartbeat," I said. "He doesn't sound good."
"He's dying, isn't he?" Wendy asked.
"I think so. I don't think there's anything we can do....I think all we can do is keep him company."
"Poor thing."
I sat on the chilly floor. "We've played with this little guy forever," I said. I ran my fingers over Sparky's little head. "Isn't that right, Sparky? We've known each other our whole lives. I don't remember a time without you."
And starting tomorrow, I will. I'll have to learn to remember a time without Sparky. I'd say a prayer....But I don't. Not ever, not anymore. Not since that night.
"I remember a time before Sparky," said Wendy. "I was little when Grandpop got him. I remember him coming home as a puppy. Do you remember Princess?"
"Grandpop's old collie," I said. "Yeah, I was about four when she died."
"She was a nice dog," said Wendy. "I wasn't sure if you'd remember."
"I remember a little. I remember when Dad told me she'd died. I cried, and then asked if Grandpop could get a new Princess."
"Doesn't work that way."
"No. It doesn't."
We sat in companionable silence for a while, alternately touching and holding Sparky, the snow falling outside.
"Are you okay?" Wendy asked me.
I made a face.
"Yeah."
"No, seriously," she said. "You're not like you used to be. You act like something's wrong all the time now. It's been, what, like a year maybe? You're acting different."
I nodded.
"I tried to kill myself."
"Oh my god. When?"
"About a year ago."
"Why?"
"I'll tell you," I said. "I mean, not right now, okay? But we'll talk. I'll tell you about it."
"Okay," she said.
Sparky made a soft noise. We both looked down at him.
"Sparky?" I petted him, running my hand down and over his back. "Hey, Sparky, little dog. We love you, little guy. We always have."
He took two more breaths, and then lay still.
Wendy cried. I closed my eyes.
"He's gone," she said.
I nodded.
"What do we do now?" she asked. "Should we....Tell somebody?"
"We'll go get my dad," I said. "But let's just sit here a while first."
Maybe there was a ghost here now.
It was midnight. It was Christmas day.

In the morning, we all gathered and opened presents under the tree, a tree grown on our own family farm. I opened up a brand new backpack, a deep purple and loaded with pockets and zippers.
Wendy caught me in the kitchen.
"Hey. You okay?"
"Hey, Wendy. Look, don't tell anyone what I told you last night. I don't want Mom and Dad knowing."
"Okay, I won't. But I want you to call me, allright? I want you to talk about this."
"It's long-distance. Dad sees I'm doing that, he'll kill me anyway."
"No he won't. Look, I don't want anything to happen to you, okay? You're my cousin. I'll be there for you, okay? You know that."
I nodded.
"I know."