"What about John Henry?" Scott asked, indicating the blonde cocker spaniel they’d tied to an outside door handle of the vehicle when they‘d arrived.
The dog had been an integral part of the family since Scott was two. They had grown up together. Putting the dog in a kennel during their extended vacation hadn’t even been an option. Not only would the cost have been prohibitive, but neither Scott nor the dog would have flourished during a long separation.
With his long ears flopping and tail beating a steady tattoo against a rust spot on the station wagon, John Henry looked like he couldn't wait to find a bush, raise his leg and stake a claim to this new territory.
"Leave him until we get everything moved. You can come back and get him when we're done," Kevin said, his arms full of boxes.
* * *
By the time Kevin and Scott had emptied the station wagon, Karen and Gillian had set out a half-dozen candles they'd found in an old chiffonier. The house glowed with a warm, dim, yellow light that fought the dark sea-chill that permeated air now, even in the cottage.
"I'll go with you," Kevin said, as Scott headed out the door for a last trip to retrieve the dog. "Maybe I should bring the word processor in after all. It's pretty damp out there." He felt proud of his resolve to get his thesis done, and finally bringing in the computer was a symbol of that new determination. Besides, he wasn't completely comfortable having the boy out by himself in the darkness of an unfamiliar place.
Kevin watched affectionately as his son led the way with the dying flashlight back to the car. He had been looking forward to spending quality time with both Scott and Gillian on this vacation now that the baby took up so much of their mother's time. He didn't know how successful he would be with his daughter, who was at an age where she thought all parents were mired in stupidity and lacked even a rudimentary understanding of the teenage mind. But Scott was fertile ground for new ideas and life-lessons. It was a joy watching him absorb new experiences.
John Henry pulled eagerly at his leash, his nose already leading him down the twisting sandy path of family odors mixed with strange new ones.
"Hey, wait for the old man!" Kevin shouted as Scott and John Henry disappeared with the flashlight around a bend in the path. The word processor was heavier than he'd expected. After hauling in the luggage and boxes, his arms ached and he was slowing down.
Ahead in the darkness, the dog give a small yelp and Kevin came upon the scene just in time to see John Henry veer sharply away from the path, almost jerking Scott off his feet. Scott had wrapped the leash around his hand and the dog was pulling violently back toward the car.
"Hey, John Henry, hold on. You're going to choke yourself," Scott said, wrenching the leash back hard.
Kevin could hear the cocker’s breath rasping in short, harsh coughs as his collar constricted the animal‘s throat.
"Hold on Scotty, don't let him get away," Kevin shouted, trying to walk faster with his burden.
"Come on, boy. We're almost there,” Scott cajoled the now frantic dog. “Let's not get too excited."
They'd come to the corner of the yard and Scott was trying to pull the dog toward the gate. Despite the boy‘s efforts, John Henry had firmly and stiffly planted his legs in the sand, refusing to budge any farther.
Kevin hurried toward them.
No matter how hard Scott pulled and coaxed, the dog would not move forward. Even in the dim light from the flashlight, Kevin could see the dog's muscles, corded and frozen.
"Hey, John Henry, it's okay. Everything's okay. Come on, let's go get some food. Dinner bell!" Scott sang the familiar call the dog was used to hearing whenever he was fed.
"Dinner bell, John Henry!" Kevin urged. He was surprised to see the dog's wide eyes fixed and glazed.
John Henry wouldn‘t budge.
Kevin looked over at the house and its soft-lit windows. The light through the curtains was weak; it fell no more than a foot beyond the walls. The comforting shadows of Karen and Gillian moved around inside.
"Dumb hound," Kevin heard Scott mutter. "Come on, we can't stand out here all night. You might not want dinner bell, but I sure as hell do!"
Kevin shifted the heavy word processor in his arms and suggested, "Scotty, pick him up and carry him. He's just confused."
Scott lifted the dog and tucked him under his arm. At first the cocker was as stiff as a statue, but as they moved toward the house, Kevin could see John Henry begin to growl and squirm.
"Hey, buster! This is home for a while, so you'd better get used to it," Scott scolded.
"Hang on Scotty. I'll help you in a minute." Kevin tried to walk faster, but the sand was deep, his feet kept slipping, and the computer wasn't getting any lighter. He didn't want to set it down until he got to the house. That's all he'd need, a machine full of sand--and the closest repair shop probably hundreds of miles away!
The closer Scott and John Henry came to the cottage, the louder and more violent the dog's protest grew.
Catching up, Kevin could see John Henry's muzzle pulled back, teeth glinting wetly in the darkness, saliva dripping from his mouth.
"It's okay, John Henry," Kevin tried to comfort the crazed animal with a soothing voice.
Suddenly, the dog's growls turned to pitiful whines. Kevin wished he could reach out to reassure him; the poor mutt seemed genuinely frightened by something.
At the porch, John Henry became frantic again; he tried to wriggle out of Scott's arms, every muscle concentrated in an effort to escape.
"Hold on, Scotty!" Kevin shouted.
As Scott tightened his grasp, the dog turned his head and began snapping viciously at the boy’s unprotected stomach. Scott dropped the dog before it could do any damage.
John Henry landed on all fours and, without looking back, dashed past Kevin through the still-open gate and out of the yard into the darkness, leash trailing behind in the sand.
* * *
After he'd put the word processor safely in the house and told Karen what had happened, Kevin joined his son on the beach. They could find no sign of the John Henry. They checked the pathway back to the car, but the dog hadn’t returned to the familiar vehicle.
"He's probably out in the sand dunes, chasing after his dinner," Kevin reassured Scott. "He'll come back when he's good and ready. Come on, let's get inside before we freeze to death. Besides, you've got to make the fire, remember?"
Scotty's worried face brightened a bit, and back inside the cottage, as promised, Kevin let him lay the fire, and set it ablaze--with minimal advice and maximum supervision.
At least, Kevin thought, they wouldn't be cold. The sea air had an unexpected bite to it. Coming from the high desert, where summer‘s heat had already permeated everything, they were not too well prepared for damp weather. The fire took off the chill.
Karen made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and pulled juice boxes out of their small supply of food before she settled down to start nursing Joshua.
"Don't worry about John Henry, son," Kevin said, waving away a sandwich, his stomach still in tumult over the memory of the maggot-infested cat. "He knows who feeds him. He'll be back when he gets hungry."
Scott shook his head sadly. "If we were at home, he'd know where to come. But this is all new to him. He's going to get lost."
"He'll be okay," Karen reassured him.
"This is sort of fun," Kevin said, anxious to change the subject. He looked around the room, a strange, shadowed landscape with the furniture still covered--white lumps of small icebergs in a mysterious black sea beyond the fire's light.
Karen said, "Cleaning up this place is going to be a major project. I can see why it's so cheap."
"It'll do," Kevin said. "It's right on the beach, and we've got a forest at our back door. Exactly what you ordered."
He couldn't believe their luck. What the ad had called a "beach cottage" had turned out to be a huge, over-built, rundown tw
o-story Cape Cod, nestled between rolling dunes on a pristine beach. Two dormer windows on the second floor looked over the large yard, while the deep wooden porch invited them to long, relaxing afternoons in the fresh sea air. He was quite pleased with his deal--until he'd found the rotting cat stinking up the place!
* * *
Warm firelight fought the deeper cold from the ocean breezes outside. Kevin enjoyed the unaccustomed opportunity to sit around and talk with the kids. They seldom had a chance back home, where they all had so many distractions. Here they had only the night and it's darkness, the fire and its warm light--and each other.
"I don't know about you guys, but I'm tired," Karen yawned finally, looking at her watch. “Kev, what time is it? My watch has stopped.”
Kevin twisted his wrist toward the fire. “This can’t be right. It’s gotta be later than seven.”
“That’s what I’ve got too,” Karen said.
“Mine stopped too. Looks like it was just about the time we got here.”
“Do-do-do-do, do-do-do-do.” Scott sang the theme song from The Twilight Zone, one of his favorite programs on the Sci-Fi Channel.
“Not hardly!” Gillian scoffed.
“Must have been the sudden dampness after the desert,” Kevin said. “But we don’t need watches. We’re on vacation! We’ll eat when we’re hungry, sleep when we’re tired...”
"...And change the baby's diaper when it's full," Karen laughed, waving an imaginary odor away from the sleeping child.
"I'd sure like to watch a little TV," Gillian said.
"No electricity," Scott pointed out.
"And probably no TV," Kevin added.
"No TV!" Gillian and Scott chorused.
"I don't really know. We'll have to take inventory tomorrow," Kevin promised.
"You guys can do with a little less television," Karen
said. "We don't need to have MTV blaring at us every waking minute. We should take advantage of this opportunity to spend a little extra time together--talking."
"What're we gonna talk about?" Scott asked, curiosity written across his innocent face.
"Whatever we want. We can get to know each other better," Karen suggested.
"Now there's an idea that boggles the mind," Gillian sulked.
"I think it's a great idea," Kevin said, moving closer to Karen. He put his arm around his wife and pulled her close. "I can't think of anything I'd like better."
"I'm think I’m gonna be sick," Gillian said, grimacing at the sight of her parents' intimacy.
This display of affection didn't bother Scott in the least. He had other concerns.
"Hey, Dad, d’ja think we could go out just one more time and see if we can find John Henry?"
"Sure, no problem. If he doesn't come back tonight, he'll be back by morning when his belly gets empty."
"At least I wasn't stupid enough to let Billabong get away," Gillian crowed, looking at the bird on a nearby table.
"Yeah, big deal," Scott retorted. "The bird's locked in a cage."
"Gillian and I'll get this place ready for bed while you two guys go see if you can find the dog," Karen said, interrupting the beginnings of battle.
Kevin appreciated Karen's unfailing ability to spot pending outbreaks of youthful combat. Whereas, he usually found himself on the edge of the battlefield, frustrated until his own anger spilled over, Karen seemed to be able to anticipate and contain the situation before it got out of hand.
* * *
Kevin felt like a bloody fool, yelling: "John Henry! Dinner bell! Dinner Bell!" as he and Scott headed along the moist, compacted sand of the unfamiliar beach.
He could see no lights in their immediate vicinity, but assumed that there must be other houses somewhere around. With their lights off, he and Scott might as well have been on the other side of the moon. Then he spotted a dim flicker off in the distance. Someone had either a campfire on the beach or a bonfire on distant cliffs, but some kind of life definitely existed in San Sebastian! Somebody was having a good time. Even from a distance, he could see shadows moving around the fire.
A cold wind penetrated Kevin's light jacket. He hoped that, as they moved deeper into summer, the weather would turn warm enough for a few night swims. Karen had promised that they'd make extra time for each other on this vacation, and a little midnight skinny-dipping was just what the doctor ordered. Doctor Kevin. He smiled. He'd shrivel up in the cold water, but Karen would take care of that! She could bring the dead to life; a little bit of cold water wouldn't deter her!
Although they'd been married over twenty years, and his kids thought that, at forty-five, he was over the hill, he and his wife still found each other attractive--and sexy.
Kevin shook his head in the darkness. There was never enough time to do the things he really wanted to do--relax, read, travel, make love with his wife. He remembered how, as a kid, he'd envied adults their freedom. Little had he realized then that, with the responsibility of adulthood also came an inevitable loss of freedom.
"Dinner bell, John Henry!" Scott shouted.
"The damn hound's probably off chasing a rabbit," Kevin said. "Come on, I'm freezing my buns off out here. Let's go back. When he gets hungry enough, he'll be home in a flash."
* * *
Inside, Karen had banked the fire to the back of the hearth, and both she and Gillian were already tucked under piles of blankets, the baby sound asleep in his little port-a-chair. An orange glow suffused their part of the room where dark and shadowed corners encroached on them slowly as the fire died away.
"Any luck?" Karen asked.
Kevin shook his head. "John Henry’s probably chasing the local wildlife."
"I wish I was chasing some local wildlife," Gillian giggled.
"Never mind that, young lady," Kevin said. His daughter had enough admirers at home to worry him without picking up a few more here.
"Do you really think John Henry will be okay?" Scott asked, disinterested in his sister's current social dilemma.
"Sure." Kevin said.
"I'll go out and look for him first thing in the morning," Scott promised.
Taking off his shoes and jacket, Kevin crawled under the covers next to Karen.
"He'll probably be pawing at the door before sunup," he said.
Outside, a brisk wind came up, whisking sand against the wooden sides of the old house. Kevin could feel tendrils of cold air on his face from the open window. The single candle they'd left burning flickered and went out as the wind found its way to the flame. The building rattled and creaked like a three-mast schooner, giving him an unsettling sensation of movement that caused his already upset stomach to grow queasier.
It had been a long haul, he thought drowsily. All the way from Barstow to the coast. He had been so exhilarated at the idea of having found exactly the kind of place Karen wanted, he had failed to plan their arrival properly. He'd expected the inn to be open on a Saturday night, that the electricity would be on, and the place would be clean and neat. On the other hand, they'd gotten so much more for their money than anything they might find around Southern California, where the cost of six weeks in San Sebastian would buy them a couple of weeks on the bland beaches of Oceanside. They shouldn't complain about a little inconvenience.
He'd promised Karen this vacation, and she had promised him that she was over her shock at being pregnant and giving birth again. He knew that the vasectomy he'd had two months ago was too late, but at least he'd finally done it. If he'd only gotten it immediately after Scott's birth, as Karen had begged him! But that was all water under the bridge, or rather, he thought, a new baby in the bassinet.
All he had to do now was get his butt in gear and take the steps he needed to secure tenure at the university where he was an associate professor in the English department. The way things had been going, he couldn't count on any kind of stability unless he had tenure, and to achieve that he had to write. One thing in academi
a never changed--publish or perish. Well, he'd be damned if he were going to perish when survival was--along with his seniority--just a well-written paper away.
Kevin sighed quietly. He felt sleepy and snug, spooned against Karen's backside, his arm holding her unresisting body against him. Whatever the case, worrying about the politics and requirements of his career wasn't going to help now. He was tired. So...very...very...tired...
* * *
Kevin was almost asleep when he heard Gillian whisper. "I hear something under the house."
"It's just the wind," he said, his voice soft, not wanting to wake Karen and Scott who were already asleep.
"No, it's not," Gillian protested, her fear evident in the darkness.
"Gillie, you're just getting the willies in a strange place. There's nothing under the house. Go to sleep."
"I can hear it scratching."
Kevin put his ear to the cold floorboards. He could feel the wind as it beat against the walls of the house, setting up a thrumming vibration throughout the whole structure, as if it were a living, breathing thing. But he could hear nothing else.
"Go to sleep. It's probably just sand blowing through the air spaces under the house."
"Maybe it's John Henry. I still hear it."
Gillian was about six feet from his and Karen's mattress.
Reluctantly, Kevin pushed back his warm blankets and crawled across Scotty's mattress to reach Gillian. He put his head next to hers on the floor, but felt only the vibrations he'd noticed before.
"I don't hear anything but the wind," he said after a few moments.