Chapter 9 #3
For the next few minutes, there was peace in the truck cabin, until Dennis turned into Mel’s driveway and had to slam on his brakes at the big gate.
Kell hopped out, popped the gate latch like he’d done it a thousand times, and opened the big metal entry. Dennis drove through, then Kell closed it behind the truck, giving Dennis a chance to look around.
In less than a minute, he saw two cows, an emu, an actual ostrich, a few llamas, a bunch of smaller creatures from dog size on down, and–
“Is that a camel?” he asked, pointing to a small courtyard near a barn, as Kell climbed in.
“Probably,” Kell muttered as he shut the door. “You know how Bilbee’s Tavern’s phrase is ‘If we don’t have it, you shouldn’t drink it’?”
“Yeah?”
“Mel’s sanctuary’s should be, ‘If we don’t have it, you can’t save it.’”
“Aww.”
Kell shot him a funny look. “Don’t come home with a bunch of animals.”
“Why not? I have my own place, finally. Maybe I’ll get a dog. A cat. A camel.”
“Harriet would love a camel,” Kell deadpanned.
“Other than the spitting, they’re great.”
“Your definition of ‘great’ is very different from mine. I’m trying to imagine Rachel dodging camel spit.”
“Even better reason to get one. The comedy would be worth it.”
Calamine jumped up onto the top of the seat, right by Kell’s head, as if jealous they were discussing other animals.
“Don’t you worry, Cally,” Kell crooned, petting her. “You’re my one and only.”
“Rachel know you talk to your cat like that?”
“Yes, and she loves it. Rachel understands that Cally is her sister wife.”
Dennis laughed hard at that one. His little bro had a sense of humor, and something inside him relaxed a little.
It’s only been a week, he told himself. Let life unfurl at its own pace. Nothing’s a rush.
The adjustment counselor back on base had told him as much.
So why did he feel like he was slacking all the time?
“Pull up over by the barn,” Kell instructed.
“There are three of them.” A huge barn, faded gray by weather and time, was on the right side of an old yellow farmhouse.
To the left were two smaller barns, one so new, Dennis thought he could smell the curing wood, the other a two-story, bare-bones beast. Lots of fencing, with subgroups set off from the others, made for a chaotic layout of pens, but he knew it was organized chaos.
The whole scene made him grin.
A three-legged dog, part Dalmatian, part something browner, looked up from a big chew toy and locked eyes with Dennis. For the first time since he’d come back to Luview, his shoulders really relaxed.
“OVER HERE!” A whistle cut through the air and Dennis and Kell turned to look at the source. A person in a red knit hat and black snow coveralls, holding a bucket of some kind of feed, waved them to the gray barn.
“Mel,” Kell said as Dennis guided the truck very slowly toward her, stopping when she put up her palm.
They climbed out, and Mel gave Dennis a once-over. The crisp January air came into his lungs like he was sucking on a hookah in Tangiers.
“Dennis! Great to see you.” Sharp eyes met his, more wrinkles than he remembered at the corners and underneath, but otherwise the same.
That description fit him as well.
“Know anything about camels?” Mel asked, looking pointedly at a beast.
Kell started laughing.
“What do you hope I know?”
Kell stopped laughing and gave them both a confused look.
“Got one who refuses to engage. Seems depressed. Can you take a look?”
“Only thing I’ve ever done with a camel is ride it. Never given one talk therapy.”
At the words talk therapy, a memory of Ana slammed through him. How her neck tasted against his lips and tongue. The way her smile lit up the night as she rode him, her hands on his shoulders, breasts pert and–
“Don’t need to psychoanalyze it. Just trying to understand why it won’t eat.”
“Why’s it here?” he asked, his voice cracking a bit as he tried to stop living in his head in Sexland and came back to reality.
Cold reality. Snow began falling, light and fluffy.
“Because I brought her here?” Mel shrugged. “Her name is Sandy.”
Kell groaned. Mel grinned.
“Okay,” Dennis said, matching her shrug. “Thought we were coming here to take care of a tree.”
“You are.” Mel winked. “But if you’re the same Dennis I knew years ago, you’re a softy with strays.”
“Oh, geez.”
“And what’s better than a guy with a soft spot for strays who has also spent a bunch of time in the desert?”
“I wasn’t a camel jockey.” He frowned. “Sandy wasn’t used for racing, was she?”
“Camel racing?” Kell choked on his question.
“It’s a thing,” Mel confirmed, nodding, giving Dennis a look that said she was impressed. “I asked the same question when I got the call about her. She had a broken knee when we brought her here. Darren fixed it.”
“How did a camel end up in Maine?” Kell asked, eyeing the barn. “Isn’t it too cold here?”
“She’s a Bactrian camel, and they’re used to both heat and cold, but we have special heat lamps for her. Waiting for someone down south to have a spot for her. She’s sweet as can be, but definitely depressed. I give her lots of affection,” Mel explained.
Kell gave Dennis a look, then pointedly tipped his head toward the tree they were supposed to cut down. It was crooked, with the telltale lightning scar where the blast had sheared off a third of the tree.
Dennis just raised his eyebrows and followed Mel.
Animals brayed and chittered, quickly turning into background noise as he stomped through frozen mud and hit thinly scattered hay. Then Mel opened a door and a rush of heat told him this must be the place where Sandy was housed. When he stepped inside, Dennis burst out laughing.
A large plastic pool, the kind you put in your backyard for kids, was filled with sand.
“Look,” Mel said in a defensive tone, “I meant it when I said I’ve tried everything.”
“Please tell me that’s not play sand from the toy section of a store.”
“Hah. Of course not. I got Roy to give me some from the public works department.”
When Mel opened the door, the camel hadn’t even looked up.
Dennis frowned, squatting down, one knee pressed into the hay. Camels were tricky animals, he knew. They spat and could kick you easily, with joints that rotated in a circle. While they were friendly and extroverted, they were incredibly volatile as well.
His vigilance training kicked in.
“Could she be pregnant?” Dennis asked Mel, who shook her head.
“Nope. Darren confirmed.”
“Fun exam.”
“He did an ultrasound during surgery.”
“Darren performed surgery on a camel?”
She waved her hand dismissively.
“He’s seen it all. Comes with being a rural veterinarian.”
“I’d think Darren would be more likely to work on a polar bear than a camel around here.”
“If the polar ice caps keep melting, that might happen sooner than you think.”
The camel had big, beautiful eyes, with brown fur that shed, the hair pulling into thick clumps like dreadlocks. The fur around her mouth was a lighter color, and it looked like she was puckered up for a big old kiss.
But those eyes. So sad.
“How long has it been since she’s eaten?”
“About a month.”
“A month?” Kell exclaimed, which made Dennis smile.
“Camels can last a few months without food. She drinking water?” he asked Mel, who shook her head.
“No, but she’s fine there, too.”
“So you just… feel like she’s depressed?”
“I don’t feel it. I know it.”
Moving slowly and keeping his feet under him, Dennis assumed a low crouch, rolling back on his heels enough to get the balls of his feet free, in case he had to jump back quickly. Sandy could rise suddenly and pose a huge threat to them all.
Or she could hock a loogie in his eye.
“Hey there, girl,” Dennis said softly.
Sandy blew out a breath through her nose, the snort hot and yeasty. Dennis began breathing through his mouth, but barely opened his lips. All you needed was one taste of camel spit and you were good for life.
After an incident in Qatar, he was all set.
Sandy blinked once, slowly, then closed her eyes. With a gentle hand, he touched her head with two fingers, stroking the fur.
She just breathed, the sound ragged but steady.
“You walking okay?” he asked her. Kell shifted his weight in Dennis’s peripheral vision, leaning against the gate.
“Do you think she’s just cold?” Mel asked quietly from behind him. “Darren says that’s probably not it.”
“Are you cold, girl?” he asked the camel, who didn’t reply, but who seemed to relax enough that Dennis moved closer, petting her head, scratching a bit on her forehead.
“Maybe she’s lonely. Are camels pack animals?” Kell asked.
Lonely.
The word was a gut punch, conjuring a feeling about Ana. No images in his mind. No words. Just a heavy, painful ache.
“They’re pack animals, as in animals used to carry freight for humans,” Mel answered. Sandy’s fur was thick and filthy, and as Dennis continued petting her, he found the sensory experience liberating.
Life here in Maine was so… American. Organized and clean. Mechanized and constricting.
Or maybe he was just having adjustment problems?
Probably not that.
“I mean, do they travel in packs? Like dogs or wolves. Maybe she misses having a camel buddy?” Kell clarified.
“They’re social,” Dennis said softly, watching as Sandy closed her eyes and tipped her chin up, seeming to enjoy the head scratches. “Live in herds.”
“Then get her a herd.”
Mel started laughing. “I just take in the sick and wounded animals. I don’t matchmake.”
“Is she broody?” Dennis wondered aloud. “Maybe she wants a male?”
“Darren says she’s old enough to have a calf.”
Kell moved closer to Sandy, mimicking Dennis, and she opened her eyes and tensed.
“Stay back,” Dennis said in a low, firm voice. “One human at a time,”
Kell’s hands went up in a gesture of surrender.
“No problem.” He backed up. “How long are they pregnant?”
“About thirteen months. A little less,” Mel replied.
“How do you know all this stuff about random animals?” Kell asked her, just as she walked into Dennis’s line of sight to the left.
“Shhh,” Mel said, looking down.
“It’s a reasonable question,” Kell replied, sounding a bit put out.
“Wasn’t talking to you,” Mel muttered as something rat-like crawled up from her overalls pocket. Palming it, she make chittering noises at it with her tongue and teeth.
“Is that a rat?” Kell asked in a disgusted tone.
“No,” Mel replied calmly. “Sugar glider.”
She turned her wrist a bit, showing the tiny marsupial. No more than six inches long, it had a face like a lemur and a body like a flying squirrel.
“Who is this?” Dennis asked, stepping away from Sandy. It was time to give her some space, anyhow.
His mission had been accomplished.
“Careful with her hind leg there.” Mel held the little creature out so Dennis could see.
The leg had obviously been damaged recently, the wound not even scabbed over.
“Did something eat her foot?”
“Yes. Completely. Would have been worse if her former owner hadn’t discovered it. Kid had her as a pet and the family poodle decided to be a predator.”
“Gross!” Kell yipped.
“Yeah. This one keeps chewing the bandage off. They don’t make cones of shame for sugar gliders.”
“What’s her name?”
“Magic.”
“Magic?”
“As in magic carpet. Ever seen one of these fly?”
“Sure. In Australia.”
Kell let out a grumpy huff, as if Dennis was being annoying for having life experience.
“We need to get to that tree,” Kell announced, turning and calling back his goodbye to Mel as he left.
“Awww,” Dennis said, giving the little fella a tummy rub. “Is Magic a girl or a boy?”
Mel held the little guy up to Dennis and bluntly replied, “Male. See?”
“Gotcha.”
Magic curled inward as Dennis’s affectionate touch was clearly welcomed.
“You’re really good with animals.”
“Thanks.”
“If you’re ever bored, or just need an escape from your family compound, feel free to come volunteer.”
“Bored, I don’t know about. Plenty of work to keep me from bored. But that second part…”
They laughed together, Mel handing Magic off to him. The little beast slipped inside a pocket of Dennis’s ski coat and curled up.
“That foot stump will get infected,” Dennis said, worried.
“He needs lots of care.” Mel gave him a look of consideration. “Ever fostered a sick animal?”
“Fostered?”
“Like a foster parent. Just with an animal.”
“Are you asking me to take care of Magic until he’s healed?”
“That would be great! Thanks for offering!” Mel said with a wide grin, walking over to Sandy to give the girl some warm pats.
“Hah. I’m not that easy to rope in.” But looking down into his jacket pocket, his heart melted a little for the wee thing.
“I can handle Magic, but he seems to like you. And that stump needs antibiotic cream. The problem is, he’s prey. I have too many animals here to keep him one hundred percent safe.”
“What happens after he’s healed?”
“An exotic-animal person might adopt him. Or I could keep him. Not sure.”
“You think I’ll keep him, don’t you?”
“He is a sweetie.”
“I was thinking I’d adopt a dog or a cat, Mel. Not a bat with fur that looks like a lemur.”
“For a man who spent two decades exploring the world, you sure are small minded when it comes to pets. Expand your horizons a bit. Who wouldn’t want something so warm and sweet up against them all the time?”
Mel winked at him.
It wasn’t a come-on. They’d basically grown up together and he knew it was just a joke.
But his Ana craving came back with a vengeance.
“A cat can do the same.”
“Looks like Magic picked you.”
“Kell and I have to take down your tree. I’m not doing that with a sugar glider in my pocket.” He popped open the pocket, Magic’s sweet little face looking up at him.
“Fine. I’ll take him back.” They exchanged the poor creature, Dennis’s watchful eye on the raw stump. “Finish up the tree and come on in for coffee crumb cake.”
“Haven’t had that in decades.”
“Great time to start again.” Magic settled into her coveralls pocket, eyes on Dennis as if saying, Pick me. Choose me. Love me.
As Dennis stepped outside to find Kell unloading equipment, he paused at the truck, his phone buzzing in his pocket. Hope springs eternal, and not hearing from Ana all week felt like an eternity.
But no.
Not her.
Deanna.
Can you and Kell get two gallons of milk at Kendrill’s before you come home?
Dennis had rescued dozens of kidnapping victims. Managed tense hostage situations. Even delivered blackmail and ransom money.
No one–no one in the whole, wide world–had the power to turn him into an errand boy.
Except his mother.
Sure, he texted back. Starting the job at Mel’s now.
She replied with a thumbs up.
Unable to stop himself, he flipped over to his text stream with Ana.
Nothing.
Another day of nothing.
With a sigh, he realized that adjusting to hometown life was hard.
And adjusting to her silence was even harder.