Andy met Sid and his new dog, Louis, at the entrance to Tessie’s Bagel Nosh on 104th. The boy and the hardware store owner often met on the bench outside to grab a bagel, drink coffee, and discuss their shared love of classical music. Andy had asked for the meeting today because he thought that, since Sam was unavailable, Sid might be a safe place to raise his concerns about Gabriel. He was pleased that Louis was with them—dogs were always a welcome addition for Andy.
Sid directed Louis to the bench. “Sit,” Sid commanded. Louis whined and tugged at his leash. “S-s-s-i-i-i-t-t-t.” Sid repeated the word slowly so that it lasted a full ten seconds. Louis wagged his tail, and for just an instant acted as if he might comply. Then a plastic bag blew past and Louis tried to catch it.
“I think you’ll need to work on that one,” Andy offered. “His ADHD may actually be worse than mine.”
Sid looped the leash through the slats of the bench and tied a knot. “Be a good boy and we’ll get you a little something.” He patted Louis on the head and, together with Andy, walked into the store.
Five minutes later—about when Louis’s limited patience expired—a young woman left the shop and rubbed the bored puppy’s head. The attention had the same effect as tying a rope around Louis’s neck and tugging him down the street.
As the woman walked away, Louis tried to follow. He strained at the leash until he pulled his head through the collar. Finally free, he bolted after the woman.
A few people on the sidewalk noticed the puppy and smiled down at him—a brief respite from the worries of their day. No one associated Louis with the virus or the quarantine; he looked too healthy, too young, and, ultimately, too cute to be carrying a deadly disease. One man tried to grab him, breaking the dog’s eye contact with his woman. Louis darted away and the man soon gave up. But by then the woman was gone. The dog spun in a tight circle of confusion and whimpered.
A block behind Louis, Sid and Andy emerged from Tessie’s, with Sid trying to manage two messy bagels and a large cup of coffee. “Look, Louie, turkey for—” Sid stopped when he saw the empty leash. “Louis?” Sid called. They searched the area around the bench, but found nothing.
Andy stopped an old woman walking past. “Did you see a puppy?” She shook her head. He repeated the same question to three other pedestrians with the same result.
Sid dropped the bagels on the bench. “I’ll go back to my store,” he told Andy in growing panic. “It’s the one place he knows so maybe he went there.”
“I’ll keep searching around here.”
Once Sid departed, Andy’s mind began traveling its overworked path to the worst possible outcomes. One jumped out above all the rest. Of course Louis would not just return to Sid’s hardware store. That would happen in a world of love and light—a world where innocent creatures were not destroyed. Andy knew too well that this was not his world.
Andy ran toward the perimeter.
For Andy the act of running was transforming. That sensation—legs and arms pumping, warm city air flooding his lungs, salty sweat beading on his upper lip—brought him back to the many times when he was either running to or away from something. Most often it was running away. Behind him trailed an endless line of foster parents (some who’d tried and some who hadn’t), foster brothers and sisters (some of whom he’d loved, but most of whom he’d feared), teachers and school psychologists (who’d come the closest to reaching him, but too often were crushed under the weight of overwhelming caseloads and stifling bureaucracy), and bullies of various ages (whom he could usually outrun but never fully escape).
And ahead of him? Only the knowledge that innocence was a synonym for weakness and that all promises matured into lies.
“Don’t ever look for me in the park at night,” he had told Alexa.
“Why?”
No answer. He had his reasons… unpleasant things he had seen in his life, people capable of perpetrating incredible cruelty, all replayed in the shadows of the park. “I will always meet you at the entrance,” he said. “If I’m not there, go home. Promise.”
She must have seen the love and concern in his face. “OK,” she said, and kissed him. “I promise.”
Her parents had learned about their park meetings. They had Andy picked up on various bullshit charges. He tried to explain that he needed to meet her, but no one would listen. They threw him back into the juvie system—a bare room behind a cold metal door—to await his disapproving caseworker. Judge Allerton sorted everything out and arranged for Andy’s release, but that took until dawn. Andy ran toward Alexa and the park that morning as fast as he could. He was not fast enough.
This time would be different, he told himself. This time he would get there before the shadows. This time he would not be too late.
Andy tried to lock out every memory and focus on that one thought—pick the right street and get there in time.
In less than three minutes, Andy had Louis in his sights. But that was three minutes too long. The dog was a hundred feet away and trotting directly at the perimeter. Andy thought he might have the angle to intercept, but it was going to be close.
“Louis!” Andy called out as his long legs motored and he closed in.
Sixty feet now, but Louis showed no sign of stopping. Andy pushed harder, his quads burning as he closed the gap.
Louis was ten feet away, but picking up speed.
Andy was down to no choice. He went airborne, his arms stretched out to their full length, his body cutting a sharp line through the air. He timed it perfectly, like something out of a football highlight film.
Andy landed hard on his chest with an umpf, his wind gone. His fingers—strengthened from years on the violin—quickly tightened around the dog’s middle. Louis strained for a moment against the contact and then relaxed in Andy’s hands.
But the shadows were unyielding. In the next moment, Andy was on the ground staring at his empty hands. Louis had slipped free and was running again at full speed toward the perimeter.
Andy scrambled to get to his feet. He knew he would be too late once again—this time by seconds. With no ally in the twenty feet between Louis and the perimeter, the entire street was about to witness in vivid, bloody color the reality of the new quarantine.
Andy could only look on in horror as a hulking blond soldier dropped to one knee no more than ten feet in front of Louis and slipped a black baton from his belt. The soldier raised the baton an inch above his shoulder.
“No!” Andy screamed.
Louis was less than three feet from the perimeter, oblivious to the threat. The pedestrian traffic froze in place, watching the inevitable. Andy braced himself for the blow as the soldier swung the club down.