Raven Stole the Moon (33 page)

He emptied the newly opened bottle of wine down the drain and cursed all of it. It wasn’t fair to carry this burden. They needed something good in their lives, a little light so they could enjoy it together. There was too much bad and it overpowered them, weighed them down.

When the food came, Robert made a tray of ginger chicken and the dumplings she liked and took it upstairs. When he got there, he found Jenna on the floor of the bathroom, unconscious. For she had taken an overdose of sleeping pills and was almost dead already. Only by some crazy miracle was she saved, able to live again another day.

W
HEN
E
DDIE SAW
J
OEY SITTING ON THE SEAWALL ACROSS THE
street, he wanted to smash him. Short of that, he wanted to tell him what a low-life scum he was. He crossed over to the little prick and stood near enough so that he could see that smug little face grinning up at him.

“You’re an asshole,” Eddie started.

Joey laughed.

“Hey, that’s my job. I didn’t come here on my own. He hired me. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“What about that bullshit with that picture. We weren’t sleeping together.”

“A technicality,” Joey said casually, lighting up a cigarette.

“We never slept together.”

“Yeah, right. Are you kidding? I know you did the nasty. Maybe I don’t have a picture in the act, but I know you did it.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Dude, I’ve been in this business a long time. I can see it in the eyes. Plus, you’d have to be a faggot not to nail that chick. Shit, if she were in my bed, I’d fuck her brains out and leave her begging for more.”

“Something tells me she’d be begging for you to stop.”

“I love it when they beg me to stop. Then I just plow harder.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and stepped toward the water. This kid was too much. Must have quite a social life.

Joey laughed again.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Eddie looked at him.

“Oh, you didn’t offend me. I was just thinking how pathetic you are, that’s all.”

“How pathetic
I am
? Oh, that’s rich. Lemme see here, we have a depressed wife who can’t even get it together enough to escape from her husband right. We have a jealous husband who pays some P.I. a boatload of money to track down his wife and then flies up to Alaska in a heartbeat so they can have it out. Then there’s you. You’re quite a treat. Young stud, meets strange cosmopolitan woman, falls in love with her, wants desperately to keep her but knows she’s from a different world and you aren’t destined to be together. But you’re holding out, aren’t you? Always a ray of hope for you. Your love is strong.”

Joey flicked his cigarette butt toward the water.

“Well, let me tell you, friend, how it all works out. You don’t get the girl. You never do. You poor schmucks always end up standing out in the rain. That’s just a law of nature, so you might as well get used to it.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe laws of nature don’t apply in Alaska.”

Joey smiled and shook his head.

“Maybe.”

Eddie picked up a stick and broke it in half. Then he broke each half in half, and so on.

“What about you?” he asked.

“Me? I cash my check, go back to Seattle and get laid, and then head out on my next adventure tracking down another bunch of pathetic losers and fuckups.”

“I guess you got it all figured out, don’t you?”

“Look, I didn’t invent the system, okay, I just work within the rules. And the rules are simple. Actually, there’s only one. When given the chance, everyone fucks everyone else.”

“That’s a real healthy view of life.”

“Hey, it pays the rent.”

Eddie turned toward the house and saw Jenna and Robert inside. Jenna was still sitting on the couch and didn’t look happy. Robert was pacing back and forth in front of her, agonizing about something, pulling his hair, talking at her.

“My hand is killing me,” Joey complained, unwrapping the gauze from his bite and grimacing. “That dog should be tested for rabies.”

“He doesn’t have rabies,” Eddie said without looking. He was still watching Jenna and Robert in the house. He wanted to know what was going on. What were they discussing for so long? He guessed it took a while to sort out a whole marriage.

“You know how they test dogs for rabies? They cut off their heads,” Joey said, matter-of-factly.

Eddie looked down at Oscar, lying on the ground near the seawall. “The dog doesn’t have rabies,” he repeated.

“How do you know?”

“Because he isn’t a dog, he’s a spirit helper.”

Joey raised his eyebrows. That was a new one. He liked that. “A spirit helper? What kind?”

“I don’t know. Raven sent him to protect Jenna from the kushtaka.”

“Hello? Raven? Kushtaka? Tell me more, please, I’m all ears.”

Eddie didn’t have time, though, to explain it all. He was much more concerned with what was happening inside with Jenna and Robert. He wanted to be able to hear their conversation, find out what they were saying. What would Jenna decide? Joey was probably right; she was going to leave. But maybe not.

“What kind of a spirit helper?” Joey insisted.

“I don’t know,” Eddie snapped. “The shaman says he’s a spirit. I say he’s a dog. You tell me. Is he a spirit helper or a dog?”

“There’s one way to find out,” Joey said. “You want me to find out?”

Eddie was about to answer with another impatient “I don’t know,” when the gun went off, loud and hollow, followed by an echo across the water, then a yelp from Oscar. Eddie turned to see Joey with a pistol, and Oscar, a bullet in his side, struggling to get up under the weight of his wound. He tried to stand but couldn’t seem to get his feet underneath him. He looked to Eddie with confusion in his eyes, and Eddie could do nothing but watch in horror as blood flowed from Oscar’s side.

Jenna and Robert emerged from the house at the sound of the shot and ran across the street. Jenna cried out when she saw that Oscar had been shot.

“What have you done?” she screamed.

“He’s not a real spirit helper,” Joey said, putting his gun away, “or he wouldn’t be dying right now.”

“What have you done?” she demanded, knowing that no answer could explain what had happened. She fell to her knees before the dying dog and put her hands on the wound, a childish attempt to stop the bleeding. “What have you done?”

“What’s your fucking problem?” Eddie yelled at Joey. He made a move toward Joey, but Robert held him back. Joey wagged his finger at Eddie.

“Careful. I’ve got a gun.”

Eddie wheeled on Robert.

“Get off of me. Who do you think you are, bringing some psychopath up here? Get the hell out of here!”

Jenna hugged Oscar, held him, tried to lift him. Oscar raised his head and looked at Jenna in a plea for help, a plea for understanding.

“Help me,” she cried. “Help me. We have to take him to the doctor.”

She tried to lift the dying dog, tried to carry him, but the weight was too much. Her clothes were covered with Oscar’s blood, and the sight of her struggling to save the animal upset Robert. He wanted her to stop. Couldn’t she see the dog was dead?

“Someone has to do something! Don’t you have a heart? We need a doctor. Why won’t you help?”

She tried to lift Oscar again but fell backward. Robert went to her and tried to hold her.

“Jenna, please,” he said, “please, stop.”

“Get away from me!” she lashed out, striking at Robert, hitting him in the face. “Get away! Why are you here? Why did you come? I’m not going with you, ever! Get away from me!”

She was crying, on her knees, hugging Oscar, who was still breathing, but barely, shallow puffs, last breaths before he died. Robert didn’t know what to do. He looked around, but Eddie was gone. Joey had moved off a bit down the street, but he was still close enough. What had happened? Why did Joey shoot the dog?

Eddie returned with a blanket. He spread it out on the ground.

“What are you doing?” Jenna wanted to know.

“We’re taking him to the doctor,” he said.

Jenna and Eddie lifted Oscar and laid him on the blanket. Together they carried his limp body to Eddie’s pickup as Robert watched. They climbed in and started the truck, and as they pulled away, Eddie stopped before Joey and waved him over to the driver’s side window.

“You’d better get the hell out of this town by morning or I’m coming for you and I’ll kill you.”

Joey made a face of mock fear. “Ooh, big man.”

“I’ll gut you like a fish, you piece of shit.”

“Yes, sir,” Joey saluted. “I’ll take that into account when making my decision.”

Eddie started to pull away, but Joey called out. Eddie stopped the truck. Joey took a small silver key out of his pocket and handed it to Eddie.

“You might want this. I think your friend, the old man, might be looking for it.”

Eddie took the key and glared at Joey with such intensity and anger that for a second Joey was actually afraid. It wasn’t worth getting hurt, he knew, so he would be on that morning plane. Even though he had half a mind to stick around to get in a few shots.

Eddie gunned the engine and the truck took off toward town. He knew Oscar was already dead, but he owed it to Jenna to make an attempt to do something. Someone has to do something. Don’t you understand? There is nothing more overwhelming than the feeling of being powerless, being forced to watch as something takes hold and you can do nothing to stop it. Sometimes the best we can do at times like these is hold each other up, help each other through, so when we come through the other side, at least we’ll know that we came through together.

E
DDIE HELD HIS FINGER
on the buzzer until the light went on inside the house. Then he went back to the truck and they lifted Oscar’s body out and carried it to the front door. Dr. Lombardi, a notorious early sleeper, opened the door wearing a candy-striped pajama top and jeans. He was unfazed at being jarred out of his sleep.

Wrangell didn’t have a vet. There was a vet in Ketchikan who stopped in on Wrangell every other week and would make special trips when called, but that was it. Dr. Lombardi, a young man, was a general practitioner who had moved to Wrangell from Seattle a few years earlier. He had a good attitude about the whole thing. In a town the size of Wrangell, he knew, sometimes the general practitioner was called upon to be the Everyman. Or Everydoctor, as the case may be. That’s why he had moved to Wrangell. He only wished that one day someone would bring him an animal he could help, rather than road kill that had to be put away.

Dr. Lombardi looked on with concern as Jenna and Eddie approached with the blood-soaked blanket.

“What’s the problem?”

“Our dog was shot,” Eddie said. “It may be too late.”

Dr. Lombardi’s office was carved out of his house. He ushered Jenna and Eddie through the waiting room, which was at one time a living room, and into the examination room. Eddie laid Oscar on the examination table and Dr. Lombardi pulled back the blanket.

“Oh, my,” he said, shaking his head and looking at the bullet wound. He held open Oscar’s eye and flashed a penlight into it.

“He’s still hanging in there, but . . .”

“Can’t you save him?” Jenna asked.

“Oh, dear, no, I’m afraid not.” He put his fingers into the bullet hole and felt around. When he pulled them out, they were covered with blood and black specks of metal.

“No. That’s a cop killer bullet.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, a real cop killer is a bullet with a titanium core, so it can penetrate a bulletproof vest. This is a homemade cop killer. They split the lead of a bullet so when it hits the skin it mushrooms, causing a tremendous amount of tissue damage and bleeding. Even if the bullet doesn’t hit an organ, it can still be fatal.” Dr. Lombardi stroked Oscar’s side gently. He cared for the animal, even though it was too late.

“I’d like to give him an injection,” Dr. Lombardi said, looking at Eddie. “There’s no need to let him suffer.”

Eddie looked at Jenna. She knew what that meant. They would put Oscar to sleep so he wouldn’t be in pain any longer. She closed her eyes and nodded her head and it was done.

After it was over, Jenna felt numbed by it, just as she had felt after Bobby died. Eddie walked her into the waiting room, and Dr. Lombardi sat behind the reception desk and took out an invoice, which he rolled into the typewriter.

“I’m the only guy without a computer these days,” he joked, typing out some words. “What would you like to do with the body?”

“I don’t know.”

“There’s a pet cemetery out by the airport. The Boy Scouts maintain it. You could have him buried there if you like, for twenty dollars.”

“Yes,” Jenna said, “that would be nice.”

Dr. Lombardi turned back to the typewriter.

“What would you like the headstone to read?”

Jenna was at a loss. Headstone. What would it say?

“I guess, just ‘Oscar.’ ”

Dr. Lombardi typed away. He finished his invoice and pulled the paper out of the typewriter, laying it on the desk.

“Would it be possible to get a little lamb on the headstone?” Jenna asked and immediately felt foolish.

Dr. Lombardi smiled.

“I’m afraid it isn’t really a headstone. One of the scouts nails two pieces of wood together and paints the name on it.”

Jenna laughed and sniffled. ”I don’t know why I asked.”

Dr. Lombardi nodded and pushed the invoice across the desk.

“I take credit cards, check, or cash.”

It’s the little things that make death so casual. An event that happens every day, really, for millions of people. Animals, humans, whatever. They all die and they all have to be attended to. And Jenna felt somehow refreshed that Oscar’s death was quick and easy and that his post-death business could be done and paid for on the spot. That would never happen with people, when maybe it really should. They die, stick them in the ground, and put up a board with their name painted on it, pay on your way out. It wasn’t callous; it was natural.

As he and Jenna drove away, Eddie remembered the key in his pocket and he said they should swing by Field’s to see if everything was okay. They pulled up in front of the dark house and Eddie was suddenly concerned. The front door was ajar, yet all the lights were out and the house seemed empty. They got out and went inside and Eddie flipped on the hallway light.

“Hey,” a voice called out from the kitchen. Eddie and Jenna walked down the hallway and into the dark kitchen, turned on the light, and found Field, still handcuffed to his chair, grinning at them. His nose had stopped bleeding finally, but not before covering the entire front of his shirt with a dark stain.

“I thought you two had forgotten about me already.”