Paradox Love: Paradox Love Book 1 (19 page)

“Come over here, you.  Come on.”

He didn’t sound too apologetic.  The stern tone in his voice went right along with a human that would step on your paw for no good reason.  Her big brown eyes stared back at him from the darkness.  She was quietly observant and now suddenly timid.  Maybe he wasn’t what she thought. 

It irked him to be in the situation.  He wanted to stand up and walk downstairs and right back out the front door.  Sugar licked her paw, as if kissing her boo-boo, as Nancy sometimes did for her.  Luke had become an eye-rolling middle aged man.  And this was just the occasion for such a reaction. 

He spoke to her again.  “Come here.  I’m sorry, okay?  Come here.”

She wasn’t buying it. 

With a heavy sigh, he acknowledged defeat before changing his tone.  “Come here, sweetie.  Come here pretty girl.”

Her ears perked up. 
Yes, woo me, Mr. Visitor.  Ask me nicely
.  Her demeanor seemed to communicate the sentiment.  He went on cooing, his voice adjusting further.  Her paw stopped throbbing, the pain forgotten.  Now there was just his voice and the smell that wafted toward her.  She inched forward like a soldier navigating a field littered with landmines.  When she stopped, he coaxed her forward.

Her nose was on overload mode, but she didn’t care.  It was almost overwhelming, the scent that dripped from him.  She didn’t understand it, but she wanted more.  Finally, she emerged from under the bed. 

He did not reach out for her, but sat back on the floor.  He’d been through this before.  He’d let others in just like this, releasing himself to be vulnerable to Lucy and to Noel.  Even now, his throat fought back against the swelling lump.  He did not want to do this again.  She stepped forward, smelling.  Every inch of him seemed to tell a story.  She was reading it.  She was reading all the lines of him, taking in his journeys, his heartbreaks and his loves.

It was not like with Nancy.  Nancy was a map, a beacon.  She was a marvelous clue that led to someplace even more amazing.  And this was it.  She’d found him. 

In the instant she knew she was home, the crazy frenzy ended.  The frantic puppy was suddenly calm.  She didn’t need to lick him.  Didn’t need to bound all over him.  She was home.  She crawled into Luke’s lap and curled up, instant relief and relaxation seeping into every cell of her being.  It was as if she were truly resting for the first time in her young life, as though she had reached the end of a very long journey.  In that moment, the anxiousness was instantly ended.

Only when she’d climbed into his lap did he place his hand upon her.  He felt her heartbeat against his palm, felt the slow breathing of relaxation.  How could this sweet animal have had sensed that this was the just the introduction necessary to win him over? 

Her calm welcome was what he needed to open up again, even if ever so slightly.  He stroked her softly before finally lifting her up and cradling her.  She nuzzled closer to him as if silently asking for more.  Just more.  More closeness.  He carried her downstairs, past the curious gaze of his mother and went to the sofa, where he sat down with her still in his arms. 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

It was as Clare and Francis had suspected.  The vet diagnosed Torch with aortic stenosis, a heart condition not uncommon in German Shepherd breeds.  The resulting murmur was serious enough to safely predict a shortened life expectancy of three to four years. 

Normally attributed to hereditary factors, they could not have known that it was not so this time.  In this case, the soul known as Gabriel had been attacked by the roach, Blatta, with the resultant injury manifesting physically as this heart condition.

With heavy hearts, the couple returned home from the vet’s office with their young dog.  They were accustomed to receiving bad news from time to time where their children were concerned, but it was never easy.  They were instructed to provide an environment where he would not be over-stimulated.

They would do for Torch what they had done in each and every other instance where they’d cared for an ill child.  They would make his life as full and happy as possible, so that each day was a gift.  And they never gave up believing in the possibility of a miracle.

It was good that Sugar had gone to live with Nancy.  The sad fact of the matter was that Torch would have literally killed himself loving her.  She made his heart pound too hard, made it race too quickly.  Previous instances of syncope now made sense, as the couple learned of his condition.  No matter how much he missed her, the visits had to end.

Nancy was sad for Sugar.  Trips next door were an understood event in their daily routine.  Sugar would go to the front door and scratch at the customary time.  They always went after dinner when the sun was dipping out of sight.  And then suddenly, it just ended. 

The humans did their best.  Ace and/or the Coco-Chis would come over to visit Sugar instead of the other way around.  It was something.  But it wasn’t enough.  Sugar played with them mostly just to confirm the smell of Torch upon them.  She rarely cried, but it was in those instances of confirmation that she did so.  She missed him.

Clare and Francis were so careful even as to keep Torch inside during times when Sugar was in her backyard.  When it was safe, they would open the door.  Torch would race into the grass, sniffing the fence line. 

Nancy understood that being home all the time wasn’t good for either of them.  She took Sugar out often, for walks and short hikes, to the dog park and the lake.  Sugar needed to forget a little bit.  She needed to experience new smells and sensations.  She needed to focus on other things. 

It worked.  Over time, Sugar was less anxious when at home.  She stopped scratching at the door.  She was growing up and growing away from her sibling.

For Torch, it wasn’t so easy.  He was not the typical young dog.  He was difficult to distract.  He rarely played with toys, never found a favorite food, could not be bothered to chew bones.  Clare and Francis kept the whelping box he’d been born in, as it seemed to comfort him.  After the visits ended and the days stretched on, he could be found at most hours of the day sleeping there.  It was where he could feel her.  It was where he could nap and in his dreams, be with her still. 

Sugar had other visits to look forward to.  She grew to recognize the hum of Luke’s truck engine, the sound of the closing door, his feet upon the sidewalk.  And always, she would sit before the door, her tail wagging.  She would patiently follow him from room to room.  There was no barking.  No dashing about. 

When he was finished with his work, he would find a seat with his mother in the living room.  Even then, she would sit before him patiently waiting.  Only when he patted the empty space next to him on the couch, would she jump up and rest her head in his lap.  It was simple.  But it was everything. 

She was living entire lifetimes in each instance in which she was able to be with him this way. She was a young dog, but a dog with lifetimes of wisdom and experience tucked deep within.  She used that wisdom and her gentle ways to unclench his stubborn heart.  And in time, Luke was once again open to the unconditional love most uniquely and beautifully offered by a canine soul, a kindred spirit.

A mother’s heart never beats for itself.  It beats for her child, no matter how old.  It beats for a happiness that lives outside itself.  It was not lost on Nancy that he was over more often now.  He smiled more.  He was softer with her and had more patience.  He laughed harder.  Sugar had gifted her with the long abandoned hope that she might see her son truly happy again. 

As happens so often in life, this little miracle occurred just in the nick of time.  Two days before her seventy-fourth birthday, Nancy succumbed to a powerful stroke, which took her life as she slept.  She passed with Sugar snuggled up at her side.  She passed knowing that her son had yet a chance to live again.  She passed at peace.

* * * * *

Luke sold his home and moved back to live in the home he grew up in.  It seemed like the right thing to do.  Sugar was comfortable there.  And Clare and Francis, who had always been so kind to Nancy were right next door.  He wanted to be there for them.  Although his father had died many years before and although his parents never reunited, he had Nancy buried in the plot next to his father’s.  Maybe it was the final wish of a child of divorced parents, but he liked the idea of them being together now.

He knew that Sugar had grown to love the various activities his mother hand planned for them, and so he kept them going.  Well mostly, anyways.  He kept some of Nancy’s and created some of his own.  He got permission from administration at the New Herald Center to bring Sugar in once a week to visit with patients.  Her temperament was perfect for the situation. 

She had the sense from Luke that they were on some sort of important mission.  She wanted to make him proud.  And she did.  When their visit ended each week, they would often spend time in the massive expanse of green turf outside the facility.  Sugar was especially happy here, chasing tennis balls.  When she was ready for a break, she would find a place along the fence line nearest the building.

It was odd to him that she seemed drawn to the very spot that he’d first met Noel all those years ago, but he would indulge her each time as they rested in the grass. 

Other times, and especially in the evening when the sky was dark, they would drive to school to run and play on the football field.  On one such night, while on his back in the grass looking up at the moon, he vowed that this time, there was nothing and no one that would stand between him and his dog.  Sugar was a lifetime companion.  He was not letting her go until the end.

He served as the fix-it guy for his neighbors, Clare and Francis.  Bless their hearts.  They never called him for the little things.  But from time to time when neither was capable of some task, they would put out a request. 

Little Ace and two of the Coco-Chi trio had passed.  Mocha was still spry, but her parents could not bear to call her by that name.  She was simply Coco-Chi now. 

They’d learned to keep Torch in the bedroom when Luke was around.  Though he’d not seen his sister for quite some time, the scent of her alone could arouse him sufficiently to cause such an agitation that Clare and Francis worried for his health.  He was deteriorating and they did not wish to hasten the process.

Luke on the other hand, saw it differently.  If this dog had little time left to live, why not let him live it in the company of his sister?  A life lived sleeping a box with no hope was no life at all. 

At first, he was subtle in communicating his opinion.  It wasn’t his business really.  But meeting Torch and observing him was shocking.  His sadness was palpable. 

Finally, he offered to take Torch in for his remaining days, however long they would be.  Francis and Clare were resistant.  To them, it seemed like a form of euthanasia.  To Luke, they’d spent too long observing Torch from inside this bubble.  It took someone from the outside to make the point.  Torch was entering his fourth year when the couple finally relented.

“Let’s give him a happy ending,” Francis said as he held his wife’s hand, Torch’ leash in his other.  And with that, they walked him next door to live out his final days with Sugar and Luke.

Sugar welcomed Torch as though they’d never been apart.  Luke momentarily regretted his insistence on the arrangement as he witnessed the emotional the reunion.  Torch was a basket case.  Luke literally prayed for the dog to live through that first night, so that his neighbors wouldn’t hate him for killing their dog.

Some years later, he would swear to anyone interested in hearing the story that Torch willed himself to stay alive just to be with Sugar.  He surprised them all.  He lived through his fourth year without a scare.  He spent his days curled up with his sister, following her around the house.  And she gave of herself freely.  There was no jealousy, no fear from Sugar that she was missing out on her time with Luke.  It was as if she understood that there would be time.  For now, Torch could have every part of her.

The outings were put on hold.  They were too much excitement for Torch.  And the stress of having Sugar leave without him wasn’t fair.  There was no explanation for the attachment, but some part of Luke could relate to Torch.  He was happy he’d arranged it.  He’d identified the need, acted on it and made it happen.  He’d made a difference.  Torch’s transformation was a remarkable thing.  Sugar had succeeded in bringing yet another soul alive again.

Just as Nancy, Torch faded from life on Earth snuggled with Sugar.  They’d grown accustomed to sleeping so close that one heartbeat seemed to wait for the other’s.  Hers and then his.  His and then hers.  She felt him leave her in the darkness of the night when her heart spoke and his no longer answered.  She released a deep mourning moan as she rested her head upon him. 

A dog’s heart feels the pain of loss as greatly as any other living soul.  Sugar felt that pain as she closed her eyes and tried to sleep without the other half of her beating heart.

* * * * *

Luke knew he’d done the right thing.  Torch’ life may have been short, but he’d spent the last of his time in the best place.  He was proud of Sugar in a way that was hard to describe.  He admired the way she’d cared for her brother, how she seemed to sense the preciousness of the time they shared.  Sugar made him respect dogs in a way that even his other experiences had not.  She made him want to be a better man.

When they’d had a chance to mourn the loss, they eventually returned to their regular activities.  Today was Saturday morning and Saturday mornings were reserved for projects around the house.  The old house needed some TLC and Luke had put off the monumental task of tackling the attic for months.  He was done procrastinating.  Sugar followed him up the stairs and into the dusty room.

“Ugh,” he said to himself as he scanned the space.

It was going to take more than one Saturday.  The room had barely been touched for decades.  It was time to clear it out.  He started at one end with one box.  Sugar sniffed around, but couldn’t pick up anything much but the mingled odors of dust and moth balls.  She kept trying at her end of the room while Luke continued on his.  It was slow going.  Luke was sorting items into keep, donate and trash piles.  Fixing up the house was therapeutic, as was the simple act of decluttering.  The attic was actually a bright, lovely space.  It could be renovated and used for another purpose.

Sugar had given up looking for anything interesting and had found a place on the floor to nap.  From time to time, she would stir to see Luke continuing his work.  Then she would get up and try again herself.  She walked over to all the sorted objects in an effort to detect an interesting scent.  Nothing.  She’d resolved that attic cleaning was boring.  Life was better at the park.

At the risk of blowing dust about the room, Luke opened a window.  A slight breeze found its way in, gently perusing the room.  It was as though the pure air was afraid to enter this alien, untouched world.  Sugar’s nose perked up as piles of dust were lifted and moved.  She got up and started exploring again. 

Luke had busied himself in one corner, flipping through old photo albums mostly holding images of relatives he could barely remember.  Sugar was drawn to the boxes on her side, which were tucked into the triangular section of space that formed her end of the A-frame roof. 

An old chest was propped open, over time becoming mostly a receptacle for all that dust.  Nancy was obviously the last one up here.  And the state of the chest, its hinge completely open, seemed to indicate that she’d also been interested in doing a cleanup job in the attic herself.  From all appearances, she’d started right here with the chest and perhaps been interrupted midway through.

From behind him, Luke could hear the unmistakable sound of his dog sneezing. 

“Bless you, Sugar girl.”

A small, indistinct box was among the objects contained in the chest.  And here is where Sugar’s nose alarm went off.  Finally, something interesting.  The box lid ajar, she could easily push it away with her nose.  Inside were precious treasures, long ago stored and forgotten.  She wanted them all.  But like a polite child, she knew she would need permission.  Instinctively, she decided it best to bring Luke a sample of what she’d found.  He would either let her keep it or quickly let her know she was not allowed.