Pure joy!
“Well, not at the moment, eh?”
Goldie looked up at him from the passenger-side footwell nervously.
You’ve really outdone yourself this time, kid, Steam Donkey John pronounced from the back seat. Clack, White Raven agreed.
Buddy rolled down his window.
Hey! Hong Hing complained. You try blow us away?
“Don’t need a back seat peanut gallery right now. See ya!”
I no say nothing!
“But you’re thinking Hong. I can hear your thoughts before you put ‘em into words, and you’re pissing me off.
I no pissing!
Steam Donkey’s laughter and White Raven’s gargle faded, dispersed by the buffet of air.
“Sorry girl,” Buddy glanced at Goldie, who was watching him intently. “No,” he laughed. “I’m not a lunatic.” He patted the passenger seat. “Come on up,” he coaxed. She decided to stay put for the moment. “You’ll come round,” he promised.
“A hundred bucks, and she’s yours,” Benny had said. “No dickering.” They were standing beside the split cedar fence at the boundary of the Transfer Beach dog park. They could hear the rumble of traffic up on Highway One and kids playing in the water park down below. It seemed to Buddy that they were stuck between worlds.
He peeled two fifties off the fold of bills he kept inside his credit card holder and handed them over. “Why you selling her?” he asked, substituting the less-pejorative ‘selling’ for the accusatory ‘getting rid of’ that had lodged itself in his thoughts.
Still, Benny was upset by the question. “She’s a great dog,” he replied unhappily. Then, after a few seconds, “We just can’t manage her right now. She’s too much for us… a bit too much.’
Buddy left it at that, sorry he’d asked. They watched her tearing up and down the dog park, chasing a whippet that out deked and dodged her at every turn, until Goldie cut him off and drove into him with her shoulder, the two of them tumbling on the grass, righting themselves, then renewing the chase.
“I’ll get her leashed up, then go, if that’s okay?” Benny pleaded.
It took him a while to round Goldie up. “She’s yours,” he said, handing her over along with the bag of doggie treats he’d used to coax her to him. Then Benny turned and walked quickly away. Goldie looked confused for a moment, then strained after him, yipping and barking. Kneeling, holding her close on the lead, Buddy stroked her neck and shoulders. She calmed down a bit but watched unconsolably as Benny got into his car, closed the door, and drove off. They sat like that for a minute or two, then reluctantly, Goldie let Buddy lead her to the Matrix and climbed in.
“Come on, girl,” he said, patting the seat again. Tentatively, she climbed up and settled in, watching the unknown flash by outside the passenger window.
When they got back to Chemainus, Buddy didn’t go straight to VORland’s end. Instead, he parked at Kin Beach and rummaged for a length of rope in the back of the Matrix, which he knotted onto the handle of Goldie’s leash. “You’ve got a good ten yards there, girl,” he said. “That’s the most I can give you for now.”
The tide was out, the narrow strand between what he called ‘Lighthouse Rock’ and the shore exposed, so they headed in that direction, Buddy stopping periodically to coax her to him with one of Benny’s treats. She rallied quickly, excited by her new environment, the seaside smells, the whirring squawking gulls, and the lapping sun-glittered waves. With every stroke and word of encouragement, Goldie warmed to her new environment and companion until he thought of letting her off-leash, then thought better of it. “Not yet, girl,” he said. “But soon.”
First, we’ve got to come up with a new name, he thought. A sound that says who you really are.
Mr. Beasley? Avatar? They’d been good names. Names that somehow fit. Perhaps they’d been names the dogs grew into. Buddy smiled, watching Goldie snuffle at some seaweed. For you, I want a name that touches everyone but sets you free. He thought about that for a while, sitting on a ledge of the islet’s tilted rock. She glanced back at him, turned, and sat three feet away in the sand, looking up. “I’m yours now, aren’t I?” he said. She barked. Once. In the affirmative.
A sudden breeze ruffled her fur and Buddy’s hair.
“Zephyr,” he said, smiling at her lovingly. “Zeph for short.”
She nuzzled up to him, resting her head on his lap.
Next: Who has seen the wind