Part 10 (2/2)
Uncle Ted's face went white with fear, but Mom's back was turned and she didn't see it. ”So . . . what did he find?” he managed to say.
”Nothing,” Mom answered. ”It took some effort, but he finally got Thor to come in. He was really p.i.s.sed when he got back to bed.”
”So what do you think it was all about?” Uncle Ted asked, a little too nonchalantly.
”I have no idea, but I'm not too worried. Thor barks at practically everything.”
”Well, I don't know, sis. Big predators can travel awfully long distances if their habitat runs dry. Just because the woods here haven't had anything dangerous recently, doesn't mean they'll always be safe. If I were you, I wouldn't let the kids play out there for a while, until-” He stopped short.
”Yes? Until what?”
”I don't know. I must be getting confused. I was thinking for a second about the wolf near my house. I was going to say, 'until this thing blows over.' But anyway, it just proves my point: There aren't supposed to be wolves where I live, and look what happened to that girl. I just think you should be more cautious, all of you, and take the dog more seriously. And don't let him go out there, either.”
”Ted, don't you think you overdoing it a little? Thor isn't exactly helpless, you know.”
”How big is he? In pounds, I mean.”
”Are you ready for this? Ninety-three pounds!”
”You know how big gray wolves get? Up to a hundred seventy-five!”
”Ted, give me a break! The dog starts barking in the night, and now you've got a hundred and seventy-five pound wolf at the door! It's not exactly like dogs never bark in the night. Are you feeling okay?”
She put down the iron and looked at her brother. ”Listen, Ted,” she said, ”I know you've been going through h.e.l.l for a while now, but you've got to try to take it easy. Relax. You're turning into a bundle of nerves. Ever since you got here, you've been as jumpy as a cat, and the last couple of nights it's gotten worse. I really think you should consider . . . seeing someone.”
Uncle Ted snorted. ”And I don't suppose you mean a date, do you?” Mom looked at the floor, took a deep breath, then met his eyes.
”No, Ted, I don't. I'm afraid for you. I've never seen you like this, and I don't know what to do. You're drifting further and further away, and I don't mean from me. I mean from everyone and everything.” Tears welled up in her eyes and her voice wavered. ”Oh, Ted.”
She choked back a sob, then broke down and cried, face in her hands, knees trembling. Uncle Ted rushed to her and took her in his arms.
Thor snapped to alarmed attention, his fur standing on his shoulders. If Mom cried out or tried to get away from Uncle Ted, Thor was ready to attack him without hesitation.
But Mom took succor from Uncle Ted's embrace. Uncle Ted gently guided her to the kitchen table and sat her down, then went to the stove and turned on the burner under the tea kettle. He looked over his shoulder at her as she dabbed her eyes with a napkin, then turned his face to the stove. He gripped the stove with both hands and spoke to the burners.
”I wish there was something you could do to help me, but there isn't. If I weren't such a selfish, cowardly b.a.s.t.a.r.d, I wouldn't even be here.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ”I'm leaving. Today.”
Mom looked up, startled.
”No, Ted! You can't! Where would you go?”
”I don't know,” he said with his back still turned to her. ”But I have to. It's not right, me being here, taking advantage of you.”
”You're not-” Mom began, but Uncle Ted cut her off.
”I am taking advantage of you, and the fact that you don't realize it doesn't make it any better.” He took another breath and said, ”I have to go.”
Mom got up and tentatively put a hand on his back to ma.s.sage the muscles between his shoulders. Uncle Ted didn't respond. She leaned against his back and ran her hands down his arms and took hold of his wrists, and he flinched and gasped. She immediately let go and decided against asking why his wrists were sore. She was afraid to find out.
”Ted, don't go,” she pleaded. ”Stay for me. Please. If you go now, it'll kill me. Please don't.” She knew her brother well enough to understand that he was talking suicide. She countered the only way she knew how, by threatening in kind.
Thor understood the conversation better than almost any other he'd ever heard. The depth of Uncle Ted's guilt and despair, and the desperation and terror and love in Mom's response left no doubt that they were discussing Uncle Ted's possible demise.
But unlike Mom, Thor wasn't bothered by the prospect. Uncle Ted's departure would solve all of Thor's problems.
What did bother Thor was the strength of Mom's attachment to her brother. Every word that pa.s.sed between them seemed to cement Uncle Ted's position in the Pack.
”Promise me,” Mom whispered. ”Promise me you'll stay here until . . . until you work things out. Please.”
Uncle Ted let go of the counter and covered his face with his hands, unconsciously imitating his sister's pose from moments before.
But he didn't cry. He just stood that way for what seemed like an eternity, thinking. Finally, he said, ”I'll try.”
Chapter 11.
Uncle Ted kept to himself for the rest of the day, retreating to his apartment after his laundry was done. Thor spent the day on the kitchen stoop, watching the door to Uncle Ted's apartment. Dad got home early for a change, and under orders from Mom, he dragged Uncle Ted out of hiding and into the house to be with the family. The Pack seemed determined to make Uncle Ted a full-fledged member.
Uncle Ted worked hard to conceal his depression in Dad's presence, and he did a good job, too. The two of them sat together in the living room, drinking beer and talking while they ignored the TV news. After a while, Uncle Ted seemed as relaxed as any Good Dog. At one point, Dad grunted himself out of his chair and grabbed the remote control. He muted the set and flipped through the channels and found a National Geographic special, which he left on with no sound.
”You were there, weren't you?” he asked Uncle Ted. The screen showed the Serengeti Plain in Africa.
”No, but I could've gone. I got an offer last year.” Dad was sorry he'd asked. Uncle Ted had turned down the offer because he was in mourning. Uncle Ted deftly changed the subject.
”Check this out,” he said, and he nodded his head toward the dog. Thor, who was lying between them on the floor like a library lion, had just straightened his posture a little to get a better view of the TV. The image on the screen was a cheetah stalking a wildebeest. Both animals appeared in profile. Their shapes and behavior were unmistakable, and Thor was fascinated.
”Well, how do you like that?” Dad said. ”I always wondered if they can see what's on the screen. I guess he just wasn't interested in car chases and bouncy blondes.”
Uncle Ted laughed.
”For sure!” Uncle Ted said. ”It was proved conclusively on Stupid Pet Tricks, on David Letterman. This lady had a dog who watched TV all the time, and he was totally cool as long as there weren't animals on screen. Humans, yes, animals no. As soon as he saw a dog on screen, he went crazy. It was wild! He was jumping and snapping at the set like a maniac. And as soon as the animals left the screen, he calmed down. f.u.c.king amazing!”
The profile views of the cheetah and the wildebeest were gone, and so was Thor's interest in the TV.
”I wonder what he thinks of the stereo,” Dad said, almost to himself. ”You know, it doesn't matter what's playing, cla.s.sical, jazz, noise-rock - he acts like he doesn't even hear it.”
”Oh, he does. He just knows it's irrelevant, that's all.”
”But how does he know it's irrelevant?” Dad said. ”I mean, some of Teddy's records sound like the end of the G.o.dd.a.m.n world. And he plays them loud. But the dog just lies there like he's deaf.”
”It's directional,” Uncle Ted said without a moment's thought. ”He's learned that the meaningless sounds, the ones that never result in anything happening, always come from the exact same spot in the room, no matter what they sound like or how loud they are. So he learns to ignore any sound that comes from that spot.” Uncle Ted noticed Dad looking at him wonderingly. ”I'm . . . speculating. I've wondered about it myself, given it a lot of thought.”
Dad thought that was an odd answer, considering Uncle Ted had never owned a dog. And he didn't sound like he was speculating. But Dad didn't say anything about it.
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