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Authors: Gregory D Kincaid

A Christmas Home: A Novel (17 page)

BOOK: A Christmas Home: A Novel
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From inside an elderly female voice that carried surprisingly well yelled from the kitchen, “Someone is at the door, Frank!”

“Well, answer it, Peggy!”

The carolers chuckled.

A woman in a blue robe peered out the door. She then yelled, “Come to the door, Frank! It’s Ginny and John—Christmas caroling again.”

“Do I have to?” the voice yelled back from the den, where the TV was blaring. “The Steelers are going for it on fourth and twelve. I can’t miss this.”

“Never mind!” she yelled back. The latch on the door slipped off and the door swung open. “Oh, what a treat! How nice to see you.” She looked down. “Oh, my! And with dogs this time.”

Todd shouted cheerfully, “Merry Christmas!”

The tenors opened with “Si-lent Night …”

The woman was taken with Ranger. She reached down and was greeted by the little terrier. “He’s wonderful.”

Ginny grabbed Peggy’s arm affectionately and stopped singing long enough to try to close the sale. “He needs a home. Isn’t he great?”

“Oh, but we already have a dog. Well,
I
do anyway—my sweet little girl. Still, Frank just loves terriers. He had one as a boy. I do wish he’d come to the door to see this fine fellow!”

Just then a little breeze blew the front door open all the way. Inside the house a small white teacup poodle, a tiny pink ribbon around her neck, got wind of the activity on
her
front porch. She stirred from her basket in the den, where she always seemed to be curled up sleeping if she wasn’t yapping, and began her high-pitched barking as she charged from the den, down the hall, and through the open front door.

Ranger decided that he was fully up to the challenge and lunged at the dog. The pampered poodle turned tail and ran back inside. His valor challenged, Ranger gave chase, tugging his leash free from Ginny’s hand.

Knowing a legitimate threat when she saw one, the poodle bolted down the hall, her toenails sounding like rapid gunfire on the polished wood floors. Ranger had the teacup poodle in his sights. Feeling the heat, the little white dog made a mad dash onto Frank’s lap, from which vantage point she bared her gums and gave a menacing growl.
Frank yelled, “Peggy, there’s a dog in the den!” He paused, noticing that his visitor was a terrier, and then turned up the volume to drown out the poodle’s incessant yapping.
I bet
his
bark doesn’t get old
, he thought.

Laura was giggling. Ginny was a bit worried that the little red-vested pooch was not behaving. Todd was not so bothered. He calmly observed, “Dogs do that.” He handed Mac’s leash to one of the other carolers, gave the “Sit” command, walked past the flustered Peggy into the hall, and called out, “Ranger, come!”

Wagging his tail, rather proud of his exploits, the little dog found Todd. Picking up the terrier’s dangling leash, Todd led the dog out the front door, issuing another apology as he went. Ranger paused on the front steps.

By this time, the carolers had moved entirely off the porch and were huddled together chuckling on the sidewalk. Todd was not sure why they had not finished the song. Before he could make it down the steps to join them, Ranger lifted one leg. Now there was one yellow snowman and two white ones.

Peggy gave up. “Good night,” she said to Ginny. “We’ll see you next year.”

Peggy shut the front door and watched the rest of the football game with her husband, cradling the shivering poodle in her lap. At halftime, Frank calmly observed, “That little terrier had spunk.” He frowned at the poodle.

Todd pulled on the leash to encourage Ranger to move off the steps so he could get back to singing. Laura put her
hand on her mother’s shoulder to get her attention. “I don’t think canine caroling is working out like we planned. I think it would be best if Todd takes the dogs back and you guys go ahead without us.”

Ginny felt bad. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Mom, I’m sure.” She then turned to Todd. “Let’s call it a night. Ranger is not a canine caroling kind of dog.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to try one more house with the dogs?” he asked.

From behind Todd everyone in the chorus gave a resounding “Yes!” Apparently, the idea of Ranger making another sneak attack on an unsuspecting neighbor was more than they could handle.

Laura knew that Todd would be slow to give up on any scheme that might help a dog find a home. “Not tonight, Todd. We tried. We still have a few weeks to find Ranger and Mac homes. We’ll have to come up with another idea.”

As the carolers approached the next house, Todd and Laura walked back to her home. They talked for a few minutes, and Laura let it be known that it had been a long day. “Will you call me tomorrow?”

Todd grinned. “It’s a date.” He got in his truck along with Mac and Ranger.

“Do you want me to help you take them back?” Laura asked.

“Thanks, but I can do it. Good night, Laura. Good night, Gracie.”

Laura leaned in through the truck window and, without
a word, gave Todd a quick kiss on the cheek and turned away. Todd left the transmission in park until he was sure Laura and Gracie were safely inside.

He thought about Laura as he drove the half mile to the shelter and walked Mac and Ranger back to their pens. The cold air inside snapped him out of his reverie.

“Wow! It’s cold in here.” Todd walked over to the thermostat. “It’s only forty degrees.” Todd immediately called Hayley to let her know something was wrong with the heat.

Todd put Mac in his cage as he spoke to Hayley on his cell phone. “What should I do?”

Hayley checked her watch. At this late hour, it seemed unlikely that she would be able to find anyone to help her straighten out the furnace. Although it would be chilly for humans, the cold inside the shelter would not distress her furry guests. “They’ll be fine for the night. We’ll figure it out first thing tomorrow.”

It was very quiet on the hospital wing of the Wellness Center, and pitch-black inside Hank Fisher’s room except for the dim light coming through the crack under the door. It was slightly after midnight and he was not sure where he was or if he was even alone. Hank cleared his throat and said, “Is anyone here?”

No one answered. It had been a strange experience he
had awoken from. It must have been a dream. He was sitting at a T intersection in a blue-and-white GMC truck that he had not owned for twenty years. Summer was in full flower, exploding in grainy Technicolor. The corn was tall but still a tender green. The truck engine was idling. He felt lost; he did not know if he should turn west or east.

A white dog appeared from behind a tree located along the edge of an adjacent cornfield. The dog walked slowly to the west, stopped, looked back to Hank, and trotted down the road. Hank put his turn signal on, turned right, and followed the dog west down the gravel road. They moved slowly for half a mile at a relaxed pace. There were occasional farmhouses along the road. Following a curve in the road, Hank passed through a stand of timber. At the bottom of a hill he crossed over an old wooden bridge that rattled gently under the weight of his truck. The road ended and the dog disappeared back into the woods.

Hank pulled the covers around him and fell back asleep, hoping to travel again in the comfort of the same dream. He wanted to get back to the dog, to see where he was leading him.

Later, but still in the early morning hours, the outside temperature dipped into the lower teens. The wind swung to the north. The temperature inside the shelter fell below
thirty-two. The animals weren’t bothered. It was pleasant enough for them. The water in the pipes that ran throughout the shelter slowly grew ice-cold. Around 3:15 that morning the first pipe burst. A cascading spray of water shot across the shelter. By dawn three more pipes had burst, and even more water began rushing through the shelter. As the water accumulated, the guests became unhappy with their accommodations.

HAYLEY ARRIVED
at the shelter a little after 7:30 that morning. Given the way things had been going over the last few weeks, it seemed fitting that part of the ceiling had collapsed in her office, water was streaming across the floors, and ice was accumulating on the walls and floor.
What else? Why me?
These questions played in her head like a catchy jingle for some product she definitely didn’t need. Trying to keep her shoes dry, she gingerly crossed over the rivulets of water that ran down the aisles between the cages in the shelter. Her office area was inaccessible, her desk buried beneath an eight-foot segment of water-soaked Sheetrock. She made her way to the utility closet, immediately turned the water supply valve off, and called the city manager.

By 8:15 Hayley had Mayor McDaniel, the city manager, the gas company representative, and the furnace
man at the shelter piecing together what had happened. Their coats were tightly wrapped around them. No one wanted to take responsibility for the colossal mess, but in fact it wasn’t anyone’s fault. It turned out that the gas had not been shut off; the ancient furnace had simply given out.

Hayley shook her head and said, “It doesn’t matter what happened. We just have to get it repaired and get this mess cleaned up.”

“Give us a minute, Hayley,” Mayor McDaniel said.

The mayor, city manager, and gas rep spoke to the furnace man about their options. The four of them wandered about the shelter inspecting the mess. Shaking their heads despondently, they returned to Hayley and tried to calmly tell her what they hoped she could figure out on her own. The city manager took the lead.

“There is no way we’re going to get this mess cleaned up without spending a lot of money. The city doesn’t have tens of thousands of dollars to repair an old furnace and clean up a building that is about to be demolished. I’m sorry, Hayley, but this shelter is done with, as far as we’re concerned. You need to find a different place for the dogs you have left or call Doc Pelot and just put them down. Those are the only options we see.”

The mayor knew this was tough medicine for Hayley to swallow. “If you have some better idea, we’ll consider it. Otherwise, what else can we do?”

Hayley’s face was flushed. With a scowl, she asked the mayor, “How about we put them in your garage?”

BOOK: A Christmas Home: A Novel
10.5Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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