Chapter 11
Months went by quickly as James found himself immersed in his job. Shy to a fault, he spent a lot of his time in the back with the animals. Several co-workers, including the manager, encouraged him to come out front more and mingle with the customers. He did make a few attempts at it, but in general, simply remained in the back.
Two days before his 21st birthday, a distraught woman in her mid-50’s entered the shelter one morning. Dressed gaily in bright, mismatched colors, she approached the desk where James was assembling ID tags in a drawer.
“Sir,” she pleaded, “I need help.”
“How can I help you?” James asked.
“My name is Leigh,” she introduced herself. “Did anyone bring in a white Siberian husky with green and brown eyes in the past week or so?”
“No, ma’am.”
“I live in Queen Anne,” she testified. “I woke up one morning and my front gate was wide open. I lock it every night like clockwork. When it’s raining, sometimes I don’t feel like walking Thurston. That’s my dog. So I just let him out the back door. I fell asleep that night. When I checked the house and the yard the next day, Thurston was gone.”
“Did you already call Animal Control?” James asked.
“Yes,” she answered. “They couldn’t help. I have an ad in the newspapers now. My Thurston!”
James eyed the woman. He wanted to appeal to her apparent pathos, but her relatively flamboyant demeanor and odd manner of dressing almost made him want to giggle.
“Have you checked the other shelters?” he asked.
“I certainly did,” she answered. “They couldn’t help me, either.”
“You know,” James suggested, “people usually put up signs in their neighborhood, like on light poles or maybe at bus stops.”
“I did that already,” she admitted. “But you know what? I have a gut instinct where he might be.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I used to belong to an organization that throws charity balls in town. I still do, in fact, but I had a falling out with the “powers that be.” One of the ladies there, Eloise Beauchamp, hated the fact that Thurston accompanied me to the meetings. He didn’t bother her. Really, he minded his business. But she hates dogs and thought Thurston received too much attention from others on the board.”
Leigh motioned for James to come closer. He complied, leaning over the front counter as far as possible.
“Eloise thought I usurped her position on the board,” she whispered, “by influencing
votes through Thurston’s appeal. Isn’t that ridiculous?”
“Strange world we live in,” James attested.
“There’s no doubt in my mind where Thurston is,” she admitted. “Eloise kidnapped him.”
“Did you call the police?”
“I did, but they don’t want to get involved in affairs like that and referred me to Animal
Control.”
James shrugged. His heart went out to the woman, but he knew there was nothing he could do.
“Can you get him back for me?” Leigh asked.
“What do you mean?” James asked.
“I know where Eloise lives,” she answered. “It’s in Queen Anne but close to SPU.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“Get him back.”
“Just go and ask her for the dog you mean?” he asked.
“I’ve tried that but she denies having him. The hussy won’t even open the door to talk to me, that’s why I feel he’s in there.”
“Maybe she got rid of him already.”
“Eloise? Never! She hates me so much she’ll keep Thurston around and abuse him terribly. I’m 100% sure of that.”
James scratched his head. If he was right, it sure sounded like she wanted to engage him in breaking and entering.
“It’ll be easy,” Leigh promised. “There’s no security in her house right now. You’ll be in and out just like that.”
“I don’t know,” James mumbled. “Sounds risky.”
“Oh,” she smiled, “it’ll be well worth your while, I assure you.”
“I don’t care about the money,” James attested. “It’s abuse I can’t stand.”
“Are you free tonight?” she asked him. “We’re having a board meeting.”
“You want me to go to a meeting?”
“No,” she answered. “Eloise will be there, that means the house will be vacant for a few hours. She lives alone.”
James took a deep breath, stared at the papers on the counter, and looked towards the back to see if a manager or anyone was coming. He then walked out from behind the counter and approached Leigh.
“What time?” he whispered.
Leigh took one of the business cards off the counter and scribbled some notes on it.
“That’s my address and phone number,” she stated. “Be there around 8.”
“Okay,” he nodded. “I will.”
After work, he went home to relax for a few hours. Then, around 7pm, took two buses to Leigh’s house. When he arrived, she offered him coffee then minutes later drove him over to Eloise’s house. By then, it was dark outside. The few streetlights illuminated the quiet suburban block somewhat, but it wasn’t nearly lit enough to perceive facial features unless a person was close up to another.
“How do I get in?” James asked as they stood on the sidewalk staring up at the fenced-in house.
“Check the windows,” Leigh suggested. “If that doesn’t work, check the backdoor. Look under the mats, too. People do that sometimes.”
James nodded then ascended the stairs to the house. Sitting on a hill, from its front porch he could see the lights shimmering over the neighboring towns. Checking under the mat, he found nothing. Silently, he walked around the side of the abode and tried opening each window. None budged. As he neared the back of the house, he heard a slight whimpering sound coming from inside. Peeking through a rear window, he saw Thurston lying on the kitchen floor.
The tied-up dog had a slight moan as if in pain.
He approached the rear door and tried prying it open. Like the windows, it wouldn’t budge. Quickly scanning the back yard, he saw softball-sized stones around a garden fountain. Grabbing one, he went back to the rear window and smashed the bottom section out. Reaching in, he carefully unlatched the window, opened it, and climbed.
He flicked on the light in the kitchen. Thurston, lying weakly on the floor, had streaks of blood throughout his fur. Even his eyes betrayed the pain he was in.
“Easy,” he whispered to the downed animal. “You’ll be out of here in no time.” He tried picking the dog up, but when it yelped in pain, he quickly released it.
“You’re in bad shape, aren’t you, fella?” he pondered. “How can we get you out of here?”
Standing up, James entered the living room and grabbed the Persian carpet sitting in front of the fireplace. Bringing it back to the kitchen, he opened it beside the bloody curved-tail canine and carefully slid him onto it.
“There,” he whispered. “You’ll be fine once you get to a vet.”
Turning off the kitchen light, he pulled the carpet out of the kitchen and through the living room. When he opened the front door, lights from several police cars were flashing in his direction.
James’s next three days in King County Jail were spent primarily sleeping. A few of the 20-odd orange-clad inmates attempted to engage him in conversation but he preferred to be left alone with his thoughts. He also barely touched his meals; instead, he shared it with whoever placed first dibs on it. Although Leigh paid his bail, he never saw her again.
The morning he was released, he took two buses back to Green Lake. As he approached John Calvin, he saw Brother trimming the circulating shrubbery with a pair of hedge shears.
Opening the front gate, Brother stopped and stared at him.
“My, my,” the elder man stated, shaking his head, “look who’s back in town.”
James waved hello then closed the gate.
“It’s a good thing you got out so soon,” Brother cautioned him. “They’re probably on the verge of renting out your room.”
“Are you sure?” James asked.
“You know the policy,” Brother responded. “You’ve gotta keep a clean record.” James nodded. He knew the house caretaker was right.
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re out,” Brother explained. “You need to call Marion or Rose right away.”
“Thanks,” James said then went inside.
Reaching Marion on the phone, he was nervous, expecting to get a thorough thrashing over the line. Instead of her being livid however, he was surprised to hear how calm and understanding she was.
“I’m glad Leigh paid your bail,” she told him, “but the bad news is you lost your job.” “Why?” James asked.
“They said you put yourself and a customer in jeopardy and it showed a lack of judgment. They do have some kind of reputation to uphold.”
“I saved an abused animal,” James pleaded. “Doesn’t that count?”
“It’s admirable,” Marion attested, “but breaking and entering isn’t. You know that.”
“Yeah.”
“Well, don’t worry,” Marion reassured him. “The dog is fine now. Leigh called this morning and said he’ll be home soon.”
“I’m sorry for everything,” James apologized. “It won’t happen again.”
“Don’t sweat it,” his friend stated. “Just relax and get something to eat. Don’t worry about a job for now.”
“Okay. Bye.”
Telling James not to worry is like telling a pig not to make a mess. After he made and ate a sandwich, he went up to his room, sat on the side of his bed, and started shaking his legs to calm himself down. Occasionally, he’d pace back and forth in the room, stopping at times to go through his books arranged neatly on his desk.
As the days went by, he became more and more withdrawn. His housemates’ attempts to get him into their card games failed. Now that he was at the legal drinking age, he spent the few dollars he had on beer. During the day, he went from establishment to establishment filling out applications. At night, he indulged himself in his new special interest – beer label collecting. Trying out new brews as often as possible, he would soak a bottle in water till the glue melted. He would then carefully remove the label and place it in a scrapbook. Within a few months, he’d collected labels from beers made in Japan, Belgium, France, China, Argentina, the Philippines, Turkey, Russia, Holland and elsewhere.
As he often preferred drinking outside, James discovered the perfect spot. In the greenbelt overlooking Woodland Park Zoo, he found an area where he could drink undisturbed. His little nook, illuminated by streetlamps and lights from nearby homes, gave him the opportunity to relax in his own private Shangri-La. The area, well-hidden and protected by dense shrubs and thickly-leafed trees, was a perfect getaway even when it rained.
James eventually became so obsessed with his newfound collection that he often neglected to resume his job search. One Sunday in the fall, Marion and Rose went to the house to speak with him. Driving from church, they reached John Calvin around two in the afternoon. Rose went upstairs and knocked on his door. When she received no answer, she knocked on it again. After a few brief moments, the door opened up. James, standing in pajamas, dark circles beneath his eyes, looked at Rose.
“Hey,” he greeted her.
She stared at him. He looked almost unrecognizable with his hair in disarray. Bruises and scratches were on his face and he sported a purple blister on his bottom lip.
“Geez,” she remarked, “what happened to the picture of health I’m used to?”
“I don’t know,” he answered, his sullen voice betraying a modest tremble.
“Marion and I need to talk to you,” she explained. “It’s important. Can you get dressed and see us downstairs?”
He nodded and closed the door. Rose returned to the first floor when she rejoined Marion, Brother, Kyd and Julius who were sitting in the living room watching football. She turned to Brother. “What’s been going on?” she asked him. “He looks like dog poo.”
“Like I told you,” he explained, “he goes out and sometimes stays out all night.” “I’m so worried for him,” Marion admitted. “His personality has changed so much.”
“Where does he go?” Rose asked Brother.
“Beats me,” he answered. “He’s been drinking like a sailor, I know that much.”
“Does he know about the rent increase?” Julius asked Marion.
“Not yet,” she informed him.
“What rent increase?” James asked as he entered the living room.
With his quickly washed face and hair, and wearing casual street attire, he looked more like the James they used to know. Marion stood up. “Can we talk outside?” she asked him.
He nodded and went out the front door followed closely by Marion and Rose.
“I’ll be blunt,” Marion informed him as they stood on the sunlit porch. “The church is running out of funds. They can’t subsidize this house to the extent they did in the past.”
“The loss of their bottom line,” Rose added, “has to be picked up, unfortunately, by the tenants.”
“So, what are you saying?” James asked.
“They can’t afford the 90% they were paying for the rent,” Marion explained. “They’ve scaled back to 25%. That’s still a good thing; however, your room now costs $425 a month.”
“Where am I gonna get that kind of money?” James asked, raising his arms for emphasis.
“Calm down,” Rose stated. “Once you get a job…”
“Once I get a job?!” he yelled. “What do you think I’ve been doing?”
“Listen, James,” Marion responded, “we’re on your side.”
“You know what?” he asked rhetorically. “I feel like I’m trapped here, like an experimental animal in a cage. You two needle and prod at my life like you own it.”
“That’s not true,” Marion pleaded.
“Where’d you get that idea?” Rose asked.
“I never said anything,” James spoke loudly, “but I see what this is about!”
“What are you talking about?” Marion asked.
“Control!” James yelled, balling his hand into a fist. “You’re just trying to change me into something I’m not with your rules and your medications!”
“If that’s how you feel,” Rose shouted back, “then you can leave! You’re ungrateful!”
“Rose!” Marion admonished her friend. “Take it easy!” James, groaning slightly, grabbed the sides of his head.
“Are you alright?” Marion asked.
“Y’all can say what you want,” he growled. “It’s your house. Do whatever you want.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Marion asked as James turned to go back inside.
“What it means,” he insisted, “is I’m through being the puppet for you two!”
Opening the door, he stormed inside. Marion and Rose looked at each other in disbelief.
“Well,” Marion admitted, “this whole thing was a waste.”
“What do you think he’ll do?” Rose asked.
“I don’t know,” Marion answered. “We’ll see.”
The next morning, as Brother was sitting in the dining room eating breakfast, James came downstairs dragging his duffle bag behind him.
“Heading to the basement?” the dining man asked.
“This isn’t laundry,” James answered. “It’s my things.”
“What?”
“I’m out of here.”
Brother gagged, nearly choking on some toast. “What do you mean?” he asked the ex-airman. “You found a place?”
“Something like that.”
Brother stood up. “Look, James,” he pleaded, “everyone here’s your friend.”
“My name is Commoner.”
“Commoner, James, whateve
r,” Brother lamented. “You’ve got to know we’re looking out for your best interest.”
“It’s nothing against you,” the young man insisted, “it’s just that I’m tired of people telling me what to do. I don’t like people controlling my life. That’s all I’ve ever known since I was a kid. Bounced around from home to home like an invalid, never feeling like I belonged anywhere. I know people talked behind my back like a stranger, like some unwanted outcast. I’ve tried my best to fit in anywhere I was placed. I don’t know how to explain it except to say I never felt like I belonged with them.”
“Like a trespasser?” Brother guessed.
“Exactly,” James answered, wiping tears from his eyes.
“I know what that’s like,” the caretaker revealed. “I’ve had lots of friends before this leg got broken and I lost my eye. Shit, I was the life of the party. Then, you know, you wake up one day and it all seems like a dream. Man, I don’t even know how I got so old so quickly. Life’s just a blur.”
“So, you understand.”
Brother walked over to James and touched his shoulder.
“You do what you have to do,” he told him. “I don’t know how long they’ll hold that room open for you, though. Times are hard. The economy ain’t what it used to be.”
James shook Brother’s hand.
“Thanks for everything,” James uttered. “I rarely get mail, but if I do, can you hold it for me?”
“Will do,” Brother answered. “Um, where are you going?”
“I don’t know yet. It’s just, you know, something I have to do.”
Brother nodded. “I understand fully. Go with my blessings, then.”
“Thanks.”
James picked up his duffle and headed towards the front door.
“May there be no thorns in your hedgerow,” Brother presaged, “and may there always be fresh dew in your flowing rivers.”
“Good idea,” James stated as he opened the door and exited.