me?” the young man holding a tray
beside her table asked.
“Sorry. Talking to my dog,” she murmured.
He gave Isolde a pat and deposited the
cheeseburgers onto the table in a small pile. Emma unwrapped a
cheeseburger for Isolde before freeing one for herself. She stayed
for two hours with the freaks watching her like crows a weakling
field mouse. They didn’t try to approach her again, and she assumed
they were there only to watch her. Two hours seemed to be their
limit. She watched them disburse into four different directions and
waited until all of them were out of sight before she rose.
Elated but suspicious, she ventured out of
the dining area. They didn’t reappear. She leaned over the railing
and spotted the 7-Eleven on the corner two blocks down.
“Okay, Isolde, our goal is there,” she told
the dog. Relieved she thought to wear sneakers instead of sandals,
she tapped the dog on the back of the neck and moved into the
middle of the empty street. “Let’s go!”
She sprinted down the street, fear and
exhilaration drowning out all sounds but that of her heart, her
breath, and the clicking paws of Isolde. She reached the final
intersection and snatched Isolde’s scruff when the dog failed to
stop. Two cars whipped past, and Emma dragged the dog forward
again, pausing at the other side to turn around.
Her watchers lingered on the other side but
made no move to follow. Fear slithered through her. Emma moved
forward at a slow trot down the narrow, undivided road. Two cars
passed her, and she kept one hand on the trotting dog to prevent it
from wandering too far into the road. As she heard the third car
approach she gazed around her, soothed by the calm forest lining
one side of the road. The scents of earth and trees were pleasant
along this stretch and she shook out the tension in her
shoulder.
Isolde growled suddenly. She glanced at the
dog.
“It’s okay, angel,” she purred with a
pat.
The dog bared its teeth, clamped them around
her forearm, and planted its huge paws on Emma’s body. Emma toppled
over backwards into a muddy ditch with a cry of alarm. The dog
landed half on top of her, and she started to shove it off when the
wheels of a car dipped dangerously close into the ditch as it flew
by.
Stunned, she struggled to catch her breath
and turned wide eyes to the dog. Isolde righted herself with a few
grunts and clambered out of the ditch and flung mud from one
paw.
“Oh, Isolde,” Emma gasped. “Oh, you beautiful
dog!”
She climbed out of the ditch and hugged the
animal, kissing its ugly, large face. Isolde panted and licked her.
Emma straightened, shaken, and slung mud free of her arms. She
glanced around, afraid to be only halfway down the road. With a tug
on Isolde, she raced the rest of the way down the road, pausing for
breath when she passed through the gates of the apartment
community.
“Okay, Isolde,” she gasped. “Don’t tell …
anyone … even Tristan.”
Isolde panted without responding. Emma leaned
over to catch her breath and walked forward on spaghetti legs. She
wiped as much mud from herself as possible before reaching Amber’s
door. She waited outside to steady her breath and create a story of
why she and the dog were caked in mud, then removed her shoes and
left them by the door.
Emma pushed open the door, pausing at the
sight of mail lying piled on the linoleum entrance way. The letter
on top was addressed to her. Surprised, she snagged it and closed
the door. Her mother and Tristan sat in the living room drinking
tea.
“Hey Mama, Tristan!” she called and all but
ran through the living room.
“Emma!” her mother exclaimed. “What have you
been doing?”
“Cross country … um, walking!” she said and
slammed the door to the bathroom closed.
She leaned against it with a sigh and pulled
off her muddy clothes. She started the shower and sat down, naked,
on the toilet seat. She no longer felt like crying now that she was
home and Tristan was in the room
beside her table asked.
“Sorry. Talking to my dog,” she murmured.
He gave Isolde a pat and deposited the
cheeseburgers onto the table in a small pile. Emma unwrapped a
cheeseburger for Isolde before freeing one for herself. She stayed
for two hours with the freaks watching her like crows a weakling
field mouse. They didn’t try to approach her again, and she assumed
they were there only to watch her. Two hours seemed to be their
limit. She watched them disburse into four different directions and
waited until all of them were out of sight before she rose.
Elated but suspicious, she ventured out of
the dining area. They didn’t reappear. She leaned over the railing
and spotted the 7-Eleven on the corner two blocks down.
“Okay, Isolde, our goal is there,” she told
the dog. Relieved she thought to wear sneakers instead of sandals,
she tapped the dog on the back of the neck and moved into the
middle of the empty street. “Let’s go!”
She sprinted down the street, fear and
exhilaration drowning out all sounds but that of her heart, her
breath, and the clicking paws of Isolde. She reached the final
intersection and snatched Isolde’s scruff when the dog failed to
stop. Two cars whipped past, and Emma dragged the dog forward
again, pausing at the other side to turn around.
Her watchers lingered on the other side but
made no move to follow. Fear slithered through her. Emma moved
forward at a slow trot down the narrow, undivided road. Two cars
passed her, and she kept one hand on the trotting dog to prevent it
from wandering too far into the road. As she heard the third car
approach she gazed around her, soothed by the calm forest lining
one side of the road. The scents of earth and trees were pleasant
along this stretch and she shook out the tension in her
shoulder.
Isolde growled suddenly. She glanced at the
dog.
“It’s okay, angel,” she purred with a
pat.
The dog bared its teeth, clamped them around
her forearm, and planted its huge paws on Emma’s body. Emma toppled
over backwards into a muddy ditch with a cry of alarm. The dog
landed half on top of her, and she started to shove it off when the
wheels of a car dipped dangerously close into the ditch as it flew
by.
Stunned, she struggled to catch her breath
and turned wide eyes to the dog. Isolde righted herself with a few
grunts and clambered out of the ditch and flung mud from one
paw.
“Oh, Isolde,” Emma gasped. “Oh, you beautiful
dog!”
She climbed out of the ditch and hugged the
animal, kissing its ugly, large face. Isolde panted and licked her.
Emma straightened, shaken, and slung mud free of her arms. She
glanced around, afraid to be only halfway down the road. With a tug
on Isolde, she raced the rest of the way down the road, pausing for
breath when she passed through the gates of the apartment
community.
“Okay, Isolde,” she gasped. “Don’t tell …
anyone … even Tristan.”
Isolde panted without responding. Emma leaned
over to catch her breath and walked forward on spaghetti legs. She
wiped as much mud from herself as possible before reaching Amber’s
door. She waited outside to steady her breath and create a story of
why she and the dog were caked in mud, then removed her shoes and
left them by the door.
Emma pushed open the door, pausing at the
sight of mail lying piled on the linoleum entrance way. The letter
on top was addressed to her. Surprised, she snagged it and closed
the door. Her mother and Tristan sat in the living room drinking
tea.
“Hey Mama, Tristan!” she called and all but
ran through the living room.
“Emma!” her mother exclaimed. “What have you
been doing?”
“Cross country … um, walking!” she said and
slammed the door to the bathroom closed.
She leaned against it with a sigh and pulled
off her muddy clothes. She started the shower and sat down, naked,
on the toilet seat. She no longer felt like crying now that she was
home and Tristan was in the room
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