Radar waited in the kitchen, because there really wasn’t room enough for both of us in the bathroom. I took the cup from the dish drainer and filled it from the kitchen tap, then walked back down the Hall of Old Reading Matter with Radar padding right behind me. Outside, the siren was louder and closer. Mr. Bowditch was lying with his head down on one forearm.
“You okay?” I asked.
He raised his head so I could see his sweaty face and haggard, dark-ringed eyes. “Do I look okay?”
“Not really, but I’m not sure you should be taking these pills. The bottle says they expired in August of 2004.”
“Give me three.”
“Jeez, Mr. Bowditch, maybe you should wait for the ambulance, they’ll give you—”
“Just give them to me. Whatever does not kill me makes me stronger. Don’t suppose you know who said that, do you? They teach you nothing these days.”
“Nietzsche,” I said. “Twilight of the Idols. I’m taking World History this quarter.”
“Bully for you.” He fumbled in his pants pocket, which made him groan, but he didn’t stop until he brought out a heavy ring of keys. “Lock that door for me, boy. It’s the silver key with the square head. The front one’s locked already. Then give them back to me.”
I worked the silver key off the keyring, then gave the ring back. He got it into his pocket, groaning some more as he did it. The siren was close now. I hoped they’d have better luck with the rusty bolt than I’d had. Otherwise they’d have to knock the gate off the hinges. I started to get up, then looked at the dog. Her head was on the ground between her paws. She never took her eyes off Mr. Bowditch.
“What about Radar?”
He gave me that was-you-born-stupid look again. “She can go inside through the dog door and out when she needs to do her business.”
A kid or small adult who wanted to have a look around and steal something could also use it, I thought. “Yeah, but who’s going to feed her?”
I probably don’t need to tell you that my first impression of Mr. Bowditch wasn’t good. I thought he was a bad-tempered grouch, and it was no wonder he was living alone; a wife would have killed him or left. But when he looked at the aging German Shepherd, I saw something else: love and dismay. You know that saying about being at your wits’ end? Mr. Bowditch’s face said he was there. He must have been in excruciating pain, but right then all he could think about—all that he cared about—was his dog.
“Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I can’t leave her. I’ll have to take her to the goddam hospital.”
The siren arrived out front and unwound. Doors slammed.
“They won’t let you,” I said. “You must know that.”
His lips tightened. “Then I’m not going.”
Oh yes you are, I thought. And then I thought something else, only it didn’t seem like my thought at all. I’m sure it was, but it didn’t seem that way. We had a deal. Never mind picking up litter on the highway, this is where you hold up your end of it.
“Hello?” someone shouted. “EMTs here, is there someone who can open the gate?”
“Let me keep the key,” I said. “I’ll feed her. Just tell me how much and—”
“Hello? Someone answer or we’re coming in!”
“—and how often.”
He was sweating heavily now, and the rings under his eyes were darker, like bruises. “Let them in before they break down the goddam gate.” He let out a harsh, ragged sigh. “What a fucking mess.”
2
The man and woman on the sidewalk were wearing jackets that said Arcadia County Hospital Ambulance Service. They had a gurney with a shitload of equipment piled on it. They had moved aside my backpack and the man was trying his best to yank the bolt. He was having no more luck than I did.
“He’s around back,” I said. “I heard him calling for help.”
“Great, but I can’t get this thing. Take hold, kid. Maybe with both of us.”
I took hold and we pulled. The bolt finally shot back, pinching my thumb. In the heat of the moment I hardly noticed, but by that night most of the nail had turned black.
They went alongside the house, the gurney bumping its way through the high grass, the equipment piled on top of it jittering and jiving. Radar came limping around the corner, growling and trying to sound fearsome. She was giving it her best shot, but after all the excitement I could see she didn’t have much left.
“Down, Radar,” I said, and on her belly she went, looking grateful. The EMTs still gave her a wide berth.