A giggle freed itself from Sera’s throat. Had she really just imagined the brindle and white pit bull standing in front of her was talking? She lowered the lid on the commode and sat, trying to get her bearings. “Oh, Sera, you’re over-tired, and you’re sad, and you’ve just been under too much stress lately.”
“You used to like the band Cheap Trick, and you pretended to have a crush on Robin Zander, but you really liked…” Hank the dog cocked his head to the side, and then his lips pulled upward into a parody of a smile. “Julian Duvall in your science class.”
Sera reeled. “No one knew—”
“Ha!” The dog stood and paced to the door, whirled around and came back. “I found it in your diary, which you kept hidden under a loose floorboard beneath your dresser.” He shuddered. “You wanted Julian to give you private biology lessons. Really? Duvall? He was such a dork.”
Sera leaned forward for a closer look. Hank sat in front of her and stared back.
Was she seeing a glimmer of hope in his eyes? Maybe…
“Oh, my God! I don’t believe this.” She was actually starting to buy into the imaginary conversation.
“Look, think it through,” said Hank. “How else would I know all that shit?”
“Because—” A frown pinched her forehead. Clarity struck like lightning. “Because I know it. I’m imaging you talking and telling me things, and it’s all crap I already know.”
Relief eased her tension. She wasn’t going crazy.
Hank sighed. “Put my collar on, please.”
She reached behind her and picked up the collar and leaned forward as the dog extended his head.
“Wait!” Hank pulled back. “Turn it over. My name’s upside down.”
“How the hell do you—” The leather strap dropped to the floor as Sera’s fingers went slack. Her hand trembled as she bent to pick it up again. No way had the damn dog read his name and known it was upside down. No, she’d just noticed it was all. Making sure the name was right-side-up, she buckled the collar around the dog’s neck.
“I don’t know what’s going on. Maybe I’ll wake up and find out this is just a dream and you’re still out in the garage.” She stood.
“Yeah, about that.” He angled a look upward. “You really should lock that inner door. People get in through garage doors all the time. But that did work out for me this time.”
“Wait, what?” She jerked her hand back from the doorknob. “Are you telling me Jazz didn’t go let you in?”
“Hell, no. She’s a good kid. She stayed in the room the way you told her to.”
“So you’re saying you opened the door and came on in.”
Hank blinked. “Yes.”
“Ah ha! Dogs can’t open doors.”
“Right.” The dog stood and walked across the room. After a minute or so of batting at the round doorknob, a soft click indicated its release, and the door drifted inward. Hank stalked across the threshold. Stunned, Sera followed. Maybe it was a dream. She’d never gotten up out of bed. That had to be it. She’d wake up and find the dog in the garage, the bathroom pristine and dry…
“Jazz has my ring,” said Hank, pausing at the bedroom door. “The ruby one Granddad left me. I know she packed it. Ask her for it when she wakes up. Maybe that’ll convince you.” With his tail curled over his back, he sauntered into the bedroom and jumped lightly onto the bed, turned a couple of times and finally settled at the foot, facing the door.
Numb, Sera stumbled along the hallway, back to her room, to the bed she shared with her husband.