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Saturday got off to a late start after staying up into the wee hours with Don. By the time I got up it was too late to go running without risking heat stroke, so I decided to call the day a loss on all fronts and wandered over to Ground Up for a pastry and a bottomless coffee.
I probably didn’t need more coffee, but experience has taught me that I need to maintain a certain level of caffeine in my bloodstream for optimum performance. Also, to avoid massive headaches.
I was sitting in my favorite corner of the patio, nose in a textbook, when the chair across from me scraped across the ground. I braced myself and looked up, but it was just Don, setting down his own mug and dropping his backpack onto the third chair. He wasn’t wearing the make-shift cat sling, so Bridger wasn’t with him.
“Oh, it’s you. That’s a relief.”
“Trejo still stalking you?”
“Not that I can tell, but he’s probably got all kinds of stealth training and stuff so I’d never know.” I scanned the patio and parking lot, just in case. “I think he’s mostly cyber-stalking me, though. Creeper. You okay?”
“Mm-hmm,” Don nodded, taking a sip from his mug before pulling a book out of his backpack.
I decided it was best not to press him on the subject of last night, and took another long look around the patio. The King Charles spaniel I often saw was there, watching me with his tongue hanging out. His owner turned the page of the thick book he was reading and the dog’s left ear twitched at the sound.
I tried clearing my mind, relaxing and focusing on the dog, to see if I could pick up any kind of signal. I wasn’t sensing anything at first, and then I got a faint sense of what I guess was curiosity, and the dog cocked its head to one side, looking at me, and I blinked.
“That’s weird,” I said.
“What’s weird?” Don asked, looking up.
“So I was just trying to get a read off that dog over there, and it gave me a kind of funny look.”
“I’d think you’d be used to those by now.”
“I mean, like maybe he noticed me poking around. But I can’t be sure if it was that, or if he was just wondering why I was staring at him.”
“Has that ever happened before? A dog noticing, or somehow sensing that you were ‘in there’?”
“No,” I shook my head. “At least, not that I noticed. And I’m usually there in my dreams, anyway. You know, long distance.”
Don looked around the patio for a few moments before pointing out a medium-sized dog near the patio entrance. Its attention was on its owner, who was eating some kind of crumbly pastry.
“Don’t look at him,” Don said. “Just focus your attention on him, and I’ll watch to see if he notices.”
I closed my eyes, turned my face away from the dog, and tried to direct my attention. After a few heartbeats I felt my focus shift and I was inside my own head, for lack of a better way to put it. It was like swimming in a pond or lake. The water is dark, but you can see points of light that shimmer and shift when you try to touch them. There was one nearby – the spaniel, I figured, and moved past it. There were some tiny ones above me – squirrels, maybe? I focused on where I thought my target would be, and moved toward a faint yellow glow. As I got closer I could see it tremble and vibrate. There was a mixture of feelings coming from it, but the primary one was want-want-want. That had to be it. I tried to get closer, but –
“Oh!” Don’s sudden exclamation snapped me out of it.
“What?” I asked, opening my eyes.
“Look.”
I turned toward where he was nodding. The dog I’d been focused on was staring at me. I blinked, looking around, and noticed that every dog on the patio, all four of them, was looking at me. I looked up to see two squirrels, who had been chasing each other up and around a pecan tree, had stopped, and they were staring, too.
“Okaaaay. Should I be freaked out?” I asked, trying not to move.
“I dunno. Maybe if they look like they’re going to attack.”
I blinked and looked around, but the dogs had all gone back to whatever they had been doing before my little experiment. “Nope, I’m guessing they just noticed me and were curious. I didn’t feel any danger or aggression from them.”
“Well, that’s good, right?”
“Yeah, of course. But what does it mean? What are the implications?”
Before I could speculate any further, my phone rang and I pulled it out of my backpack. I dropped it on the table like a hot potato when I saw who was calling.
“What the –”
“It’s Grandma Rosemary! Omigod! I can’t talk to her right now! I’m too freaked out.”
I turned off the ringer and we watched the screen until her name disappeared and the missed call icon popped up. I exhaled and reached for the phone, just as her name reappeared.
“She’s calling back! Why can’t she leave a voicemail like normal people?!”
Don sighed and reached for the phone.
“Hello?” he said, accepting the call. “Hi Rosemary... Good, good. You? ... Well, I got a new job and I’m back in school... Oh, yeah. It’s great... He’s around, just not at the moment... Okay... Yes, I’ll tell him. Yes, ma’am, word for word, I promise. You too, Rosemary. Bye.”
“What’d she say?” I asked after he put the phone back on the table.
He sat back and crossed his arms, giving me a stern look.
“Well, what are you supposed to tell me?”
“Hold on, I’m trying to get the look right.”
Cripes.
“Stop being a pussy and call your grandmother.”
“Language, Don.”
“I’m just following instructions. Word for word. You know she’d know if I didn’t.”
“That woman.” I figured I had until this evening to make the call.
“Just call her. The sooner the better. She thinks the sun shines out your ass. What’s the worst that could happen?”
I glared at Don as I reached for my phone.
“Just don’t ask her what she’s wearing,” Don said with a smirk as I opened my contacts list.
“Oh. My. God. You are disgusting.”
He shrugged. “If I look that good when I’m seventy, I’m going to be a nudist, too.”
I sighed and touched Grandma Rosemary’s name on the screen.
“Jacob, sweetie! How thoughtful of you to call!”
“I know, right? I’m so thoughtful!”
“No one likes a Smart Alec, Jacob.”
“Well, that’s not entirely true.”
“How are you, sweetie? I saw you called the other day, but I was just so busy, what with Rodolfo getting ready for a show and Simon’s writer’s block. So high maintenance.”
I didn’t ask who Simon and Rodolfo were. Not even going to go there. Grandma Rosemary lives in a kind of informal artist colony in the desert, and I just wasn’t up for a lecture on the “primal creative urge”.
“Oh, I’m fine, Grandma Rosemary. I just called to see how you were.”
“Such a sweet boy. I’m spectacular, darling. I’m always spectacular. But are you really fine? I know your parents came to visit recently, hmm?”
“Well, you know how it is, I guess. Mom wanted to meet Petreski. It was pretty terrifying, if I’m honest.”
Grandma Rosemary sighed. “Monica. She is a lovely girl, but such a stickler for traditions. I remember when she came to Arizona to meet me, all those years ago. I hate to say it, because she is your mother after all, but she was a bit of a prude. You and I, Jacob, we are more free-spirited.”
“I don’t know that I’m such a free spirit,” I told her. I had heard the story, but I wasn’t going to tell my grandmother that she probably should have been wearing more than just a giant sunhat when she met her future daughter-in-law. I long ago swore to myself that if I ever had a child, I would be completely clothed whenever I met their intended. “I think maybe I’m a bit of a prude, too, maybe.”
“Impossible. Now, tell me how it went.
“Mom loved Petreski, of course. He showed up the first night in a suit and tie and his hair was perfect. And then he took her side over the, well, in a minor disagreement.”
“The icepick thing?”
“What? You know about that?”
“I talked to your father. Sounds like quite an evening – I’m sorry I missed it.”
I must have paused too long before replying, but when she mentioned Dad it reminded me why I wanted to talk to her in the first place.
“Jacob? You still there?”
“Yeah. I mean, yes Grandma Rosemary. I’m still here. You, uh, talked to Dad, huh? How’s he doing?” Don gave me a funny look from across the table. Yeah, I knew I sounded awkward.
“Well, he’s doing fine. He’s your father, so I’d imagine you’d have talked to him recently. You are calling your parents aren’t you?”
“Yes, ma’am. Yes I am.”
“What’s wrong with you, Jacob? You sound funny all of a sudden. Is it something to do with your father? Is there something I should know?”
Shoot, now in addition to her already freaky intuition, I’d set off her maternal instincts as well. Just because she’s a free-spirited nudist and a “patron of the arts”, doesn’t mean she’s not a mother, too.
“Um... no? I mean, he was, uh... I guess I’m worried that he’s...” I glanced over at Don who was scribbling on a notepad. “Working too hard!” I said, reading what Don had written.
“Working too hard?” She repeated, like the concept was foreign to her. “I’m having trouble picturing that, to be honest.”
Yeah, so was I. But I didn’t want to tell her the whole truth, and telling her he got tipsy seemed like tattling.
“It’s just that, well, something odd happened while they were visiting and I was a little worried about Dad.”
“So you called me so I could worry about him, too?”
“Sorry, not worried. Curious is a better word. I was wondering what he was like when he was younger, you know?”
“Oh. When he was little, you mean?”
“Sure, I guess. I mean,” and then it hit me – the perfect line of questioning! “Well, it’s just that I always wanted a dog when I was a kid, but they’d never let me have one. So I was wondering whether Dad had a bad experience with a dog when he was a kid, or was allergic or something?” I glanced over at Don and he gave me a thumbs-up.
“Hmm. No, I don’t remember anything like that. It was strange, though, now that I think about it. He never wanted a pet of any kind. Other kids would beg for puppies or kittens, but not Lee. Not even a goldfish. And he didn’t care for the zoo, either.”
“Huh. I remember going to the zoo when I was a kid, but I don’t remember him ever going with us.” It sounded like we might be onto something here.
“Why do you ask?”
“Oh. Well, I’m thinking about getting a cat,” I said, trying to tell as many truths as possible.
“Alright, then. So get a cat. What does that have to do with your father?”
“When he was here he came over to my apartment, and Raymond was there.”
“Now you’ve lost me. Who is Raymond?”
“Raymond is a squirrel who hangs out in the tree outside my apartment. I put sunflower seeds on the windowsill for him. He’s cool.”
“Still not seeing the problem here, darling.”
“Dad and Raymond, it was like hate at first sight, you know? So I just wondered if this was a big deal or what?”
“I don’t know,” she said, sighing. I could tell by her tone that her attention was starting to drift. “Yes, Rodolfo, I’ll be there soon!” She called out to someone on her end.
“I guess I called at a bad time,” I told her. “I’ll talk to you soon, okay?”
“Yes, Jacob. Call back soon.” She signed off with kissy noises and I laid the phone down on the table.
“She was distracted by Rodolfo,” I told Don.
“Who’s Rodolfo?”
“Best not to ask,” I told him, shaking my head.
“Well, it sounded like maybe it went okay.”
“I guess. I now realize that my dad has pretty much avoided animals as long as I can remember. He never had pets when he was a kid.”
“Neither did you.”
“Yeah, but I wanted them. He never even wanted them. Never even asked for a puppy. What kid doesn’t ask for a puppy?”
“A kid who’s afraid of puppies?”
“Yeah.”
