Conversation

Leading up to this, we had 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15 and 16. This week's Thursday Prompt, then, from Poetigress was the phrase "one summer night."

     I had no plan.  No plan at all.  And that was something I 

never did.  Never.  It was the sort of thing that could get a 

guy like me killed.

     Plunge forward too fast or turn on a whim, let my attention 

wander through one inattentive moment, and BAM!  There I'd be, 

stretched out on the sidewalk, the chair tipped over beside me, 

one wheel still spinning, the other crushed or twisted from the 

impact.  Some days, I could roll around the neighborhood for 

hours without seeing anyone; if I took a spill on some of these 

streets, I could maybe lay there till sundown before anyone 

noticed.

     So hying off without thinking, without daring to think in 

this case--don't think about where you're headed; don't think 

about what you're planning to do; don't think about the squirrel 

tucked up warm and trembling in the inside pocket of your 

jacket--it was like nothing I'd ever felt before.  Like in one 

of those nature shows where the young penguins're standing on 

the ice cliffs staring down at the ocean before their first 

dive.  Or maybe more like a lemming in the same situation...

     But I didn't stop, didn't let myself stop, took the left on 

Parkhurst, crossed at the next corner, and slid all the way down 

to the second house from the end, the Petersons' old place, and 

all I thought was how I'd better learn Deena and her father's 

last name so I'd know what the call the house from now on.

     Their van was in the driveway, and worse than that, Deena 

was sitting on the front steps and stroking Heather, the little 

dog draped over her knees and both of them looking just as sad 

as Serena had said.  It was like swallowing glass to see them, 

Deena so thin and folded up with her long sleeves and her 

flowery skirt, Heather, always in motion every time I'd been by 

before, her sides barely fluttering.  And all I could think of 

was El Brujo's advice from the other night.  

     "Hello," I said.

     She started like I'd struck her, Heather leaping into the 

grass, her teeth flashing: "Gonna knock you over, tear your 

throat out, suck up every drop of your--"  She stopped, her ears 

perking, her tongue lolling out, and all at once she was the 

hyperkinetic little ball of fluff I knew.  "Mr. Augie!  Hooray!  

It's Mr. Augie!"

     "Heather!"  Deena had a scrunched-up look around her eyes.  

"Stop it!"

     "It's OK," I said quickly, settling the chair into my usual 

place along the low fence that ringed their front yard and 

bending forward so Heather could push her nose against the tips 

of my fingers.  "She's just saying hello."

     Deena's eyes unscrunched a little, and that started her 

toward looking more like herself, too.  "Well, I wish she'd find 

another way to say it."

     I nodded, made the little slide to switch from human talk 

to animal talk.  "Heather?  Could you dance quietly, please?"

     "Quietly?"  She blinked, but it stopped her from barking at 

least.  "How can anyone dance quietly??  Especially when--"  She 

was jumping now, thrusting her raisin of a nose at the gaps in 

the fence.  "You've got somebody in your coat!  And she smells 

like meat and blood and fur and isn't your pretty kitty and I 

really really really wanna play with her!"

     "Dance quietly for a minute," I told her, "and I'll 

introduce you to Serena.  OK?"

     Heather rooted herself to the ground, every hair on her 

tiny self vibrating.  "I'll try!" she squeaked.

     "Wow."  Deena's voice was so much louder, I started back 

myself; she'd risen from the porch and was walking across the 

lawn toward us.  "Think you could teach me that trick?"

     I shifted mental gears again, tried not to stare at her 

getting closer and closer and closer.  "I don't know how I do it 

myself."  Which wasn't exactly a lie.  "Besides, she's just 

waiting for me to show her what I've got in my coat."

     "Oh?"  Deena set a hand on the fence, and my throat went 

dry, my gaze wanting to settle on the one old needle mark I 

could see where her sleeve rode up a bit on her wrist.  "You got 

your cat tucked away in there?"

     "El Brujo?  No."  I forced myself to meet her eyes instead, 

dark behind her little round glasses and much smoother and nicer 

than they'd been just a moment ago.  "We had a little difference 

of opinion earlier, but..."  I swallowed, suddenly aware that 

looking at her eyes was a lot more dangerous than looking at her 

scars.  "But I'm starting to think she may have been right."

     That got a smile.  "You often lose arguments with your 

cat?"

     "Always."  I hadn't spoken so many human words at one time 

in days, and I could feel the reaction starting, the whatever-

it-was in my brain kicking over, twitches ratcheting down my 

arms, one side of my face tightening up.  I relaxed over into 

animal speech, looked down at Heather, and said, "You've been 

very good, Heather, to be so quiet."

     Her eyes glowed like charcoal in a barbecue.  "I'm still 

dancing, though!"

     "Good."  I licked my lips.  "Now, this is going to be very 

exciting," I told her.  "Serena?  Will you come out and meet 

Heather?"

     "I will not!"  Inside my coat, the warm spot that was 

Serena clasped tighter to my chest.  "I do not care for dogs!"

     "Please!"  Heather erupted from her spot at Deena's feet.  

"Now that I know you can talk, I want to play with you more than 

ever!"

     Deena was squinting from me to Heather and back again.  

"What are you doing?" she asked.

     "Negotiating," I managed to squeeze out in human speech  

before lapsing back.  "Heather, Serena here is my friend, so if 

you want to be my friend, then you have to be Serena's friend, 

too.  Can you do that?"

     "I can!"  Heather's fur had puffed up so much, she almost 

looked spherical.  "Please, Serena!  Please come out and be my 

friend!"

     Smiling up at Deena, I slowly began reaching into my coat.  

"Serena?  Will you please come out and be friends with Heather?"

     I felt her quivering.  "This is not what I signed up for, 

Mr. Augie!  To advise you, yes!  To help you speak, yes!  But to 

meet dogs?  I had no such plans!"

     "And yet--"  I put as much persuasion as I possessed into 

my voice.  "It will help me so much if you'll be friends with 

Heather."

     My hand slipped in to where she lay curled, and for an 

instant, I thought it would all go wrong: that she'd bite me or 

leap up into my sleeve or dig her claws into my chest deep 

enough to draw blood.  The look on Deena's face made me start 

thinking she might just freak out no matter what happened, but a 

mad squirrel scrambling bloodily from my clothing would probably 

be the worst possible--

     A tiny sigh.  "I will try," Serena said, and her grip moved 

from my chest to my fingers.

     "Thank you," I said.  "Now, Heather.  Are you ready?"

     "More than ready!"  She was vibrating so fast, I swear I 

could see the grass behind her.

     "Then, Heather?"  I carefully pulled Serena from my coat 

and set her on my lap.  "Meet Serena."

     "A squirrel?" Deena asked, her voice breathless.

     "A squirrel!"  Heather spun like a top.  "Quick and so very 

cunning!  I've always wanted to have a squirrel for a friend!"  

She froze, her big puppy eyes fixed on Serena.  "Will you be my 

friend, Serena?  Will you, please??"

     Serena inched forward along my leg, reached my knee, 

stretched herself down toward Heather.  "Will you bite me so 

hard, it makes my blood come out?"

     "I will certainly bite you, but never that hard!  I 

promise!"  Heather reached her front paws up the fence post, her 

nose twitching more like a rabbit's than anything else.  "And 

will you hit me in the head with things so hard, it knocks me 

out cold on the ground?"

     The squirrel seemed to consider.  "I will certainly hit you 

in the head with things, but never that hard.  I also promise."

     "Then hooray!"  Heather did a backflip away from the fence.  

"Come on!  I'll chase you, then you can chase me!"

     "No!"  Serena drew herself up to her full height on my 

knee.  "I will chase you, then you can chase me!"

     "Hooray!" Heather shouted again, and she took off for the 

strip of lawn that skirted the house.  

     Serena gave a little chirp and jumped after her, the two 

quickly disappearing around the side yard.

     Watching them go, Deena shook her head.  "I don't suppose 

it'll kill my dog or anything, will it?"

     "She," I said without thinking.  "Her name is Serena."

     Deena looked back at me, and the little smile on her lips 

made the back of my neck prickle.  "What else have you got 

tucked away?"

     I couldn't answer the question, couldn't look away from 

her, could only say the words that were suddenly rolling off my 

tongue: "Why were you so sad when I got here?"

     Her face started scrunching up again, and when she took a 

deep breath, I braced myself for her yelling that I should mind 

my own God damn business.  But instead, she blew the breath out, 

rubbed her forehead, and said, "This time of year, it's always 

bad."  

     And as much as I didn't want to ask, didn't want to bring 

the sadness back, I still said the word, "Bad?"

     "Summer."  Her words came as gentle as the breeze through 

the trees.  "Fireflies in the park after concerts, right?  Those 

long, long evenings fading so slowly into night, you think it's 

gonna stay daylight forever.  But it always gets dark, and 

that's great, too, 'cause then all the lights come on and 

folks're walking around laughing and eating ice cream 

and...and..."  She got even quieter.  "You never want it to end, 

but then...then it does.  And that's when the real darkness 

starts, and it gets into you and makes you--"

     Barking from the back of the house, and Serena came racing 

through the side yard, chittering with laughter, Heather 

tumbling hot on her heels.  Serena arched up from the grass, 

sailed deftly between the slats of the fence, and hit my chest 

so hard, I thought the impact would knock me over backwards. 

     Deena gasped, and Heather zinged into a circular orbit 

around her feet, the little dog crowing, "And again, today is 

the best day ever!"

     Looking down at the squirrel panting in my lap, I asked, 

"You OK?"

     "I am much exhilarated!" Serena said.  "Heather is a very 

good dog!"

     "Hooray!" Heather shouted.  "I've made a new friend!"

     Once again, Deena was smiling from me to Heather and back.  

"That's the oddest thing I've ever seen," she said.

     It was such the perfect straight line, I couldn't resist.  

"Well, it's early yet."  And then--only then--did I suddenly 

know why I'd come over.  "Would you like an escort?"

     Her brow wrinkled.  "What?"

     "Tonight."  I waved vaguely in the direction of the house.  

"You said you're starting sessions today.  I could come take you 

over there."  Another thought.  "Or maybe show you around the 

house now?  So you'll be familiar with it?"

     Some of the smile returned.  "Dad and I had a tour last 

week, and he'll be walking with me over there tonight."  She 

squatted, scooped up Heather, nuzzled the little dog's belly.  

"But if you wanted to come by to walk with us--"  She froze her 

eyes going wide.  "I mean, not 'walk,' but, you know..."

     I could smell her discomfort, so I spoke quickly.  "I'd 

like to do that, thanks.  After supper, then?"

     She was blushing furiously, trying to use Heather to hide 

her face.  "Yes.  OK.  I--  I'll see you!"  And she ran for the 

front door.

After this, comes 18.