Isaiah’s truck pulled up to the cottage midmorning. He was closely followed by a beige sedan. Rocky watched from her kitchen window. A man and a woman, both fiftyish, climbed stiffly out of their car. They were heavy, solidly shaped and did not look like physical movement was easy. These people would never walk him; they didn’t walk themselves. Rocky suddenly realized that she should have kept driving to Canada with Cooper. They could be happy in a small border town or perhaps outside Quebec City. The threesome climbed the few steps to her deck. Before they could knock, Rocky opened the door. She had told Tess to stay home and sleep; the older woman had looked unusually exhausted when they returned, and she was leaving later in the day to spend the holidays with her family.
She locked eyes with Isaiah in desperation. It was possible that she could appeal to a wild streak in him and he would use his authority to send this couple packing and Cooper could stay with her. But he gave her a stern, resolved look. He held open the door for the Townsends. Rocky noticed that his hand on the doorknob had the slightest quiver, his knuckles pressing light points against his dark skin.
“There he is, there’s the good boy,” said the man.
Cooper gave a polite show of interest. He rose and sniffed the man’s hand.
“You remember me boy, don’t you?” he said.
“Rocky, this is Ed and Jan Townsend. This is our Animal Control Warden who saved Cooper and has been taking care of him for the past month or so.”
“I’m sorry about your daughter,” said Rocky. She remembered to say this when she saw the familiar grip of grief in the man’s eyes. Jan looked more complicated; her lips were pressed together in ancient anger and Rocky suspected that the strong aroma of cigarette smoke came from her. Her husky voice confirmed it.
“Thank you for taking care of the dog. It hasn’t been easy closing an estate with someone like Liz. We’ve had to take care of a lot things that Liz tried to destroy,” said Jan.
Rocky knew that the relationship between mother and daughter had been ruptured by Liz’s disorder, but she had expected death to soften her. Rocky was jolted by the anger that washed over the woman.
“Do you mean Cooper’s injury? No, no. I’m sure that Liz didn’t harm Cooper, if that’s what you mean. I was just up in Orono yesterday and spoke to a friend and the vet who took care of him. Liz loved this dog—” said Rocky.
“You don’t understand,” said Jan. “Our daughter was very sick. She had a bipolar disorder. Manic depressive. You don’t know what we have gone through with her since she was first diagnosed when she was nineteen years old. Hospitalizations, calls at three A.M., our credit cards maxed out,” said Jan. Neither one of them moved to take off their coats.
“When was the last time you spoke with your daughter?” asked Rocky.
Jan had not made one move to the dog even when Cooper sniffed her shoes. When he attempted to sniff her crotch, she pushed him away.
“I don’t see the point in this, but we hadn’t talked with her in nearly two years. We offered to let her live at home so we could monitor her medications and make sure that she attended therapy. Once Ed’s father died and left the house in Orono to her, we didn’t have as much leverage. We had to set boundaries with her to keep our own sanity. She refused to abide by our rules and we had no choice,” she said.
Ed cleared his throat. “We’re going back on the next ferry, so if you could hand over the dog, we’ll be on our way. We can manage from here.”
Cooper sat down with his haunches wedged against Rocky’s feet. Her running shoes still held the sand and salt from this morning’s walk. Her hand went automatically to his head and she rubbed the loose skin of his scalp. The cat, in a moment of rare congeniality, rubbed up against Cooper’s leg. The dog tilted his head to one side and peeked down at the cat in surprise.
“I suppose there are vet bills to take care of. How much do we owe?” said Jan.
“That bill was taken care of. I paid it, well most of it. We got a deal from the vet. He lives on the island,” said Rocky.
Isaiah rolled his eyes. “I didn’t know that you paid his vet bill.”
“I’ve gotten sort of attached to this guy and I want to let you know that I would be willing to keep him. If you two don’t really want a dog, I mean, they’re a big responsibility, and not everyone really has time for a dog like this—”
“We take care of our own. We’re cleaning up after our daughter and this is part of what she left,” said Jan. Had Liz’s illness washed all the life out of this woman? Or had Jan always been this way?
“Cooper is not part of a mess. He’s a dog who loved your daughter and was loyal to her. If you think that you’re not going to have time for him, I’ll take him. He likes it here. He likes me,” said Rocky
Ed unzipped his jacket several inches. “This might not be a bad idea, honey. He did overpower the house the last time he was there.”
“No. I just hired someone to put a run in the backyard and we have a new barricade fence. He’ll do fine out there,” said Jan.
Isaiah moved toward the door. “We’ve got twenty minutes to the next ferry. The Townsends have made up their mind Rocky, and they have heard your offer. They have declined. The dog is leaving with them. Let’s not make this any harder on them than it already is,” he said. “You’ve taken good care of him, Rocky. That’s the job.”
Ed took the leash off the kitchen counter and snapped it onto Cooper’s collar. The dog’s ears dropped and the center of his eyebrows rose. Everybody, including the dog, looked at Rocky for the next move.
“Come on, Coop,” said Rocky. She moved slowly, dreamlike, wishing herself anywhere but here. She followed the couple and the dog to their car. The coffee that she had been drinking since six A.M. started to form sharp gravel in her intestines. Ed opened the back door to the car and urged the dog in. Cooper looked back at Rocky as if she were coming with him. She bent down and put her arms around his neck, scratching his chest the way he liked and kissed the top of his head. Her throat tightened.
“Get in, Cooper,” she said.
The dog hesitated, then leapt with surprising ease into the backseat that had been covered with a ragged towel. Rocky winced when she saw that Cooper’s fur was still damp from this morning’s walk. The Townsends wouldn’t like that.
The Townsends backed up their sedan, turned around, and drove off. Cooper was sitting in the backseat and as they pulled out, he turned his head to look toward Rocky.
She stared at the departing car long after it was out of sight, frozen to the spot.
“You did the right thing,” said Isaiah. He cleared his throat and pushed his hands into his pockets. Rocky spun around at him.
“Don’t talk to me today, or tomorrow! This is not the right thing and you know it. This stinks. A dog run! A fucking dog run! He’s not that kind of dog. He’s a people dog, he has to be with his person. That’s me.”
Rocky felt the last two words settle into her as the shocking truth. She turned her heel on Isaiah and walked back into the house and felt the unstoppable convulsions of sorrow howl out of her as she leaned against the door. Isaiah knocked.
“Go away!”
He was quiet outside her door, then slowly scuffed off the deck. She heard his truck pull out. After her sobs emptied out, she splashed cold water on her face. It wasn’t fair that she had to keep losing everyone she loved. She could stop this disaster from happening; she had a choice this time. Her keys to the truck hung on a nail by the door. She grabbed them and ran to the truck. The battery, which had been acting peevish, gave its death rattle, the reluctant sound of a battery that would like to oblige, but has lost its juice. She kept turning it over until there was nothing but a click from the ignition.
She pounded the steering wheel with her fist. “No, no, no!”
The dock was one mile away. She had five minutes before the ferry left. Sometimes in the winter their schedule was less than exact. She pulled off the backpack, and started running. These were different muscles than walking muscles but she hoped they were in working order because she was going to take them to the limit. She could make it and she would stop them. She was the Animal Control Warden. She had some authority.
Her legs responded to the emergency. The sandy gravel tried to drag her down, but she pushed off with each step as if nothing else mattered. She hit the paved road just past Melissa’s house and she got up on her toes and ran like she had seen sprinters do. There was one hill as she rounded the main island road and gravity took an extra measure from her. She heard the ferry blast its departure horn. She tilted her head back to suck in more oxygen and pumped her arms as she blew past the closed fudge shop and T-shirt shop. She skidded around the corner to the dock. The ferry was already churning up water and was fifty yards out. There was only one car on the ferry, and she could still see the top of Cooper’s black head through the window. She reached the end of the dock and without wanting to, she yelled, “Cooper!” The cold restraint of the metal chain barricade pressed against her thighs.
She thought she heard his deep, resonant bark over the wind and the engine as she collapsed to her knees and the ferry carried him away.