HOMELESS–Part 6

Part 6–the conclusion of our story.


CHAPTER 16

We woke early the following morning, but could hear that we weren’t the only ones. There was activity in the kitchen and we decided to dress. Jennie walked upstairs while I shaved, dressed, and cleaned up the bed before joining everyone for breakfast.

I was on my third piece of bacon and my fourth pancake when Jennie asked Toni if they’d like to come for another visit before school started. The girls looked to their parents with pleading eyes. “I don’t know if I can get off work again,” Charlie said.

“How about if we take the girls for a week? They could fly down and back. Then you and Toni could have some time alone for a change.”

Charlie laughed. “That WOULD be a change, but I don’t know if I’d feel comfortable with them flying on their own, Jennie. They’d be on their own in the terminal and who knows what could happen.”

“I agree,” I interrupted, “but I’d see to it that they weren’t alone. I could fly up and take them back later in the day. Either that or arrange a charter.”

“What’s a charter, Doug,” asked Allison.

“Essentially, it’s like renting a car except in this case it would be a plane. You and Andrea would be the only passengers. That’s how Jennie and I came to New York the first time because I couldn’t see wasting two hours in Charlotte or Atlanta for what is essentially a two hour flight. We have some time so, if your parents agree I’ll investigate all the options.”

What happened over the next fifteen minutes showed me our future as parents. Andrea and Allison begged and pleaded while I chuckled silently, stuffing myself with even more pancakes and knowing that Jennie and I would have two teenage visitors in mid-August. It had been determined as soon as Jennie had asked if they might visit.

Charlie said good-bye, leaving for work at 7:35, but Jennie and I dallied. We’d be going against the traffic into the city, but we’d still hit huge traffic jams if we left before nine. I spent the time arranging and rearranging our suitcases in addition to Lady’s bed, bowls, and the small amount of Purina Dog Chow that remained in the bag. I thought it would be enough for tonight and probably tomorrow at best.

Finally, the time for our departure had come. We hugged and kissed Toni, Andrea, and Allison before loading Lady into the back seat behind Jennie where she could rest her head on Jennie’s shoulder. I had noticed that all three Blasi women were wearing their new earrings. We had spent more than $2,000 on their presents, but it was a drop in the bucket so far as we were concerned. The looks on their faces when they received their gifts from Jennie had made it all worthwhile.

We waved as I backed out into the street and again as I drove away. “I think of them as family, Doug. Is that silly?”

“Not at all, Jennie; I feel the same way and I’d bet they feel the same about us. It’s kind of funny that we only met them because of that woman’s detestable behavior. Too bad we can’t send her a thank you note.” Jennie laughed and I joined her. A minute later I pulled into the parking lot at 7-11. I bought four 20-ounce bottles of Coke, a gallon of water for Lady, and a small bag of ice. The soda and ice went into our small cooler; the water onto the floor behind my seat next to Lady’s bowls.

I drove south until I was able to get onto I-78, following that through Jersey City to the New Jersey Turnpike. We moved along at a steady pace and fairly quickly due no small degree to the E-Z Pass I’d kept after moving from New York to North Carolina. We didn’t have to stop to get a ticket or to pay at the southern terminus of the Turnpike, nor did we have to stop in the long lines at either the Delaware Memorial Bridge or at one of the toll booths on I-95 in Delaware.

Our first stop was about two hours after leaving, around 11:20, at the last rest stop on the Turnpike. I needed to put Lady out for a walk and Jennie and I needed a bathroom break, too. By now we had our routine down pat. Jennie walked into the restroom while I took Lady onto the lawn. I had already poured water into her bowl on the sidewalk when Jennie reappeared with unwanted attention from a guy who looked to be in his late thirties. Twice I saw Jennie try to walk away from him and twice he grabbed her arm to stop her. Bad move—Lady also saw him. I let go of her leash and she was bounding down the walkway less than a second later.

Lady stopped when she reached Jennie, but even 100 feet away I could see her anger at his touching her mistress. The hair on the back of her neck was up and I could see other travelers back away cautiously. Jennie calmly took Lady’s leash and it was clear to all that Lady was only a second away from taking down Jennie’s admirer. She was in attack mode—rear legs bent and ready to spring, fangs bared—a low guttural growl coming from her throat. Only her rigid discipline and training saved that man’s life. I could see Jennie explaining that to the man as she turned away, leading Lady back to me.

“Thanks, darling; he was making a real ass of himself. He stopped me on my way in and ignored my telling him that I was a very happily married woman. I couldn’t believe that he was still there when I walked out of the ladies’ room. What on earth did he possibly think—that I’d jump into a car with a total stranger for a quickie? Eeeww! Thank you, too, Lady,” she said as she ruffled Lady’s ears.

I left to use the facilities and on the way some guy told me that I had a dangerous dog. “Yes and no,” I replied. “She’s a danger to anyone who tries to hurt either my wife or me, but she’s extremely well trained. That man was a fool, but he was in no real danger unless he put his hand on my wife again. Neither my dog nor I would have accepted that a third time.” I turned away to enter the building. We stopped for gas before continuing. Gas prices in New Jersey are relatively low and there’s always an attendant to man the pump and wash your windshield. Jersey was the only place I knew of where that was the norm.
 
We stopped again around one that afternoon for a quick lunch and again around four before stopping for the night around 6:30. For the first time since getting Lady I had trouble with the motel’s registration. The clerk absolutely refused to allow us to register with Lady. “Have you ever heard of the ADA—the Americans with Disabilities Act,” I asked. “That’s why you have ramps and bathrooms that are handicapped accessible. Part of the federal law covers service dogs like Lady or dogs for the blind. You’d better check with your manager or owner. I’d hate to have to sue you for being turned away.”
He did phone the owner and from the little I heard he wasn’t too happy about what he was told. He tried repeatedly to argue his point, but apparently got nowhere.

Eventually, he hung up the phone and reluctantly told us, “I’ve been advised to apologize and offer the room on the house.” Instead, Jennie and I said, “No thanks,” turned away and walked out. We stayed instead at a Best Western just down the road. Not a word was said about our service dog.

This trip would normally take about ten hours. With Lady, I figured about twelve because of all the extra stops we had to make. That was why Jennie and I had driven almost eight hours that first day. We wanted to get home by noon so we could hit the supermarket. Other than the occasional can and a jar of peanut butter, there was nothing much in the house to eat.

That’s almost exactly what happened. We turned into the driveway at 11:43, remembering just in time to press the remote for the gate. I doubted that either of us was as happy as Lady. She ran around the back yard and in and out of the garage aimlessly until Jennie and I had removed everything from the SUV. I had to admit that the BMW was a good investment. It rode well and got great gas mileage, even if it needed premium fuel. Jennie told me that both her car and mine were twin-turbocharged, whatever the hell that means. I know a lot about computers, but almost nothing about cars.

We shopped most of the afternoon, spending hundreds to fill our refrigerator and pantry. Once we were done Jennie insisted we go to the range. I threw the clubs into my trunk and Lady climbed into the rear seat. The first time we’d taken her she raced out onto the range the instant I hit, thinking apparently that this was a game—some kind of fetch. Today she simply sat by our clubs watching and protecting us from the occasional vicious squirrel.

That night after grilling a thick steak that we ate with a salad I retreated to my study. There was something I needed to check on. I had a program that, when opened, showed a screen of text—not words or sentences, but line after line of random letters and symbols. When a certain password is entered the text dissolves leaving a series of email addresses and their corresponding passwords. Why go through all of this, you ask? Because as I mentioned earlier I’ve had some shady clients—clients on the wrong side of the law—and I can’t afford to be caught communicating with them. Once you go online you should always assume that everything you do is public and subject to scrutiny from the government or anyone else who might be interested.

Sitting at my keyboard I accessed my home page on the internet. From there I typed in the URL for the University of Chicago and from there a university in New Zealand. Most universities have decent security, but anyone like me can get through it without too much difficulty. Should anyone inquire it would appear as though someone in the University of Chicago library had hacked into the University of Auckland. From there it was safe to access the email I’d used to contact the motorcycle gang.

There was a message and several photos I thought Jennie would find interesting. I had no idea how they had managed to get a camera inside a state prison and I wasn’t about to ask, but here in all his glory was a severely beaten former sheriff from Waterloo, Iowa. I was laughing so hard as I called Jennie that I could barely get her name out.

She came in wondering what was going on so I explained then I showed the photos of her stepfather with his two black eyes, band-aid on his forehead, and his arm in a cast, bandages wrapped tightly around his torso—a sure sign of bruised or broken ribs. She took one look and joined me in laughter. “This was you, wasn’t it? Some friends or contacts you have?”

“I cannot tell a lie, but I do plead the fifth—a person does not have to testify if his answer might incriminate him.”

She leaned down to kiss me then whispered, “Thanks.” Then she kissed me again. I scrolled down the screen to read the text again—“What a complete fucktard this asshole is. He thinks he is still a hot shit, trying to boss everyone around. He has pissed off all the prisoners who have met him and more than half the guards. He’ll be lucky to live out his sentence. Doubt he will. Thanks for the upgrade. It’s working great. A friend” After deleting the message I went to join my beautiful wife on the deck.

Jennie and I spent the next three weeks having fun—going to Bird Island on the southern end of Sunset Beach in the boat with Lady, or playing golf, or going to the beach. The only other thing we did was prepare for our visitors. There were no direct flights to either Myrtle Beach or to Wilmington, North Carolina, roughly fifty miles north of us so I phoned Executive Jet to make the arrangements once I had checked with Toni for dates and times. I insisted that the attendant be a woman to make the girls more comfortable. Take-off was scheduled for 9:00 Saturday morning so Toni and Charlie had their daughters at the Newark Airport General Aviation terminal at 8:20, giving them plenty of time to meet the captain and crew and double-check the arrangements before departure. Two hours later they were safely in Myrtle Beach, riding in Jennie’s SUV with Lady seated between them and they were talking nonstop. I grinned toward Jennie, but she was into the conversation as much as the girls.

They ran into the house and up the stairs to the bonus room closely followed by Lady. She jumped and capered, playfully nipping at their feet, as they put their clothes into the dresser and closet. I couldn’t help but laugh. This was going to be some visit!

I grilled hot dogs for lunch and then we took them to Bird Island in the boat. We liked Bird Island for several reasons. First, we could take Lady, even in the summer. She loved the beach and often scampered in the waves with us. Dogs were restricted from the town beach between Memorial Day and Labor Day. Also, Bird Island was on the Little River Inlet so we had a choice of the waves in the ocean or the calm water where we and others parked our boats. Bird Island had ceased to be an actual island decades ago when the narrow inlet between it and Sunset Beach had silted in. Still, it was more than a mile from the nearest road so it was virtually deserted even on the busiest weekend. The only practical way to get here was by boat. We’d brought the Blasi’s here on their first visit and they loved it as much as we did.

Lady raced back and forth when I pulled her Frisbee from the beach bag. The many holes from her teeth showed clearly how much she enjoyed playing with it. I reminded Andrea and Allison about the heat and Lady’s need to rest and drink then sent them off to the ocean side which was completely deserted while Jennie and I set up our umbrella and beach chairs.

Jennie was five months into her pregnancy so her baby bump was obvious. She’d bought a new swimsuit, telling me how much she hated seeing women’s bare abdomens when obviously pregnant. “Some things should be private, don’t you think?”
I’d never given the idea much thought, but I could understand her reasoning. Some things should be private.

The girls and Lady returned after about a half hour. They hadn’t been in the ocean—not yet—because our rule was not to swim unless one of the adults was present. I’d read and heard of many idiotic things done by people at the beach. One of my roommates at Harvard had worked as a lifeguard at a state park near my home. I cringed at the stories he’d told me—how parents endangered their own children through things they’d never consider doing at home.

We sat under the umbrella enjoying a Coke from the cooler and some fresh sliced veggies with a cup of ranch dressing. We dug in, eating and laughing until we’d had our fill. We went for a swim, staying fairly close to the shore. There was a lot of boat traffic farther out in the channel, some of it involving fairly big ships, so there was danger in swimming out too far. We all jumped into the water at the same time—all of us, except Lady. Dogs can swim, but they tire quickly. The dog paddle is a very inefficient stroke, using a lot of energy to go nowhere. Jennie had read of several dogs drowning at one of the local beaches. I always forced Lady to “stay” under the umbrella. Yes, dogs can get sunburned, too. We picked up our mess around four for the twenty minute trip home. I had the boat on the hydraulic lift, washing it carefully while Jennie and the girls carried the umbrella, chairs, and beach bag up to the house. I followed a few minutes later, carrying the cooler. We were ready to go out for dinner by 5:15, driving into Calabash for pizza.

We were back about ninety minutes later and I fed Lady, noticing how quiet things were in the living room. “Everything okay in here,” I asked.

“Jennie, could we ask you something? It’s kind of personal.”

“Okay, Andrea; go ahead.”

“Mom told us that you ran away from home.”

“That’s right; did she tell you why?” Andrea shook her head “no.” “You’re so lucky to have wonderful loving parents. You should thank God for them every day. I had a wonderful father, but he died in an industrial accident when I was ten. My mother remarried almost two years later. She wasn’t married even a month when my stepfather—the county sheriff—made his first nighttime trip to my bedroom. I screamed the entire time he raped me, but my mother ignored me. I screamed every time he did it—two to three times a week—for the next five years. I hated that man—I still do. I hated him so much that I ran away when I had the chance. Anything was better than having to lie under his fat sweaty body almost every other day. I knew that I’d have to have sex with some of the men who picked me up, but most of them were nice decent people who just wanted to help me.

“I had sex with lots of other men, but I’ve only made love with Doug. Do you understand the difference?”

“I think so,” Allison said. “Dumb animals can have sex, but they don’t make love.”

“That’s true,” Jennie told them. “For me—I would lie down and allow men to use my body, but I was somewhere else. I never had an orgasm and I didn’t want one. With Doug I’m always an active participant because I love him.