Chapter 60
Topher has just left for work and I’m bringing out the trash, when I hear it. At first, I think I’m imagining it, but it’s louder and now I’m certain. My heart soars. It’s Hugo. I can hear his barking in the woods. I’d know his call anywhere.
“Hugo!!” I yell, as loud as I can. “Hugo, here boy!!”
I’m barefoot, but I race in the direction of the woods, not feeling the lashing of the dried grass in the meadow.
“Hugo!!!” I’m calling and calling, but he does not come. Why isn’t he coming to me?
I’m at the edge of the woods now. Damnit. Why didn’t I learn my lesson before? Why didn’t I throw on a pair of shoes before taking out the trash?
I hear more frenetic barking. It echoes through the woods. Fuck it. I didn’t go after him once; I’m not going to make that mistake again.
I enter the woods, moving as quickly as my bare feet will take me. The sound of his barking is moving away, so I hustle over logs, sidestepping rocks and navigating through damp, cold earth.
Thoughts swirl in my brain. Where was he? Why is he moving away from me? I’m going to give him the best treat when we get home. I’m going to scold him, as soon as I see him. Oh my god, I can’t believe he came back.
The sky is darkening, damn these fall late afternoons. I need to get to him quickly. I don’t even have my phone on me, so I have no source of light once it gets dark. But I don’t care. I feel possessed. I need to find him.
It goes quiet for a moment, and I stop, hearing the blood roaring in my ears. Panic rises instantly. Did I lose him? I can’t have lost him.
But then I hear him, farther up ahead. I run and find that I’ve come to the river.
The sound of his bark carries through the woods on the other side.
Just before I scramble down the embankment, I whip my head around.
I thought I heard something behind me, the crack of branches, followed by silence.
But I don’t see anything. So I scramble down and step cautiously into the water.
My feet instantly freeze. The mountain water is biting, and I know, suddenly, how careless I’m being. How irresponsible. I’m pregnant and wading through a river in November. But I know these waters, I tell myself. I know it’s shallow here. I won’t get carried away if I’m careful.
I almost slip a few times, but I’m able to steady myself, by slamming my feet into the crevices between rocks, grabbing on to whatever I can with my toes.
And finally, I’m through to the other side.
I scramble up and continue on. I haven’t been on this side of the woods before.
At least, not that I can remember. It’s quiet, so I call Hugo’s name and am met with his telltale bark—a series of barks, a low guttural growl followed by a louder yelp, and then a higher-pitched yelp.
I feel relief. I hear it again. A series of barks, a low guttural growl followed by a louder yelp, and then a higher-pitched yelp.
I stop dead in my tracks. My heart thudding.
Even though I’m freezing, I can feel the small of my back go damp.
Every hair on my body stands up, like I’ve been electrified.
Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit. It’s not actually Hugo. It’s a recording.