Page 31 of Outside the Veil
“Oh, come on, Greg,” one of the other officers said. “It’s a dog, not a wolf. Look at the eyes. And if it’s not his, I’ll eat my shorts. Hell, I’ll eat your shorts.”
Diego’s legs gave way. He sat down hard and buried his face in the thick ruff of neck fur. Officer Greg put a hand on his shoulder and Finn snarled.
“Okay, sorry. Easy there, eh?” He backed up with a laugh. “Sorry, Mr. Sandoval. We had to be sure. We’ve had reports of illegal exotics going back and forth across the border. You know, animals people keep as pets that they’re crazy to. Panthers. Tigers. Wolves. Your dog, well, I thought he was a wolf.”
“The vet said he might have some wolf in him,” Diego managed, still clutching Finn tight. “But he was a stray, so I don’t really know.”
“These are as advertised on the label.” Officer Mark had returned and handed back the medications. “Looks to me like he’s got Belgian in him. That deep chest.”
“Maybe some Newfoundland with that coat,” added one of the others. “He’s a beauty, Mr. Sandoval. No doubt.”
“So we’re okay to go, then?”
“Oh, yeah, sure. Sorry about the mix-up there.”
“It’s all right, Officers. Could someone help me get him back in?”
With a few more rounds of apologies for Diego and effusive praise for Finn, they lifted Finn back onto his silk and covered him up.
“That really helps his car sickness?”
Diego nodded. “Seems to. He hasn’t thrown up since New York.”
When the border lay a mile behind them, Finn finally spoke again. “That’s twice today, my hero.”
“Twice for what?”
“That you have successfully misled without telling a single falsehood. You do indeed have the gift.”
“I don’t think misleading people is something to be proud of.”
Silence fell for another half mile. Then, “Is it a human thing? Is it simply right and natural for you to be ashamed of what you are?”
“I think you’re confusing morality and shame.”
“I think you’re a great fool to try to separate them,” Finn muttered. He shifted with a heavy sigh. “Diego, my head throbs. My joints ache. My eyes burn. Please forgive my churlishness. Tell me again about the wild place.”
Diego had read the guidebook entry aloud to him enough times to have memorized it. “Fundy National Park is over two hundred square kilometers of mixed conifer and hardwood forest rising sharply from the misty coastline to the Caledonia highlands…”
Finn had drifted off during the recitation of the park’s virtues, so Diego spent the last five hours of the drive in quiet solitude. The thickening stands of evergreens edged closer on either side of the road with each passing mile. Majestic and beautiful, certainly, but the sheer volume of trees unsettled Diego. Their branches intertwined as if they locked arms against intruders, dark, ancient sentinels guarding their secrets with jealous zeal.
The yellow caution signs about moose crossings didn’t help one bit.
Asleep in his silken cocoon, Finn missed the changes in the landscape, but Diego didn’t have the heart to wake him. The robe rose and fell with his shallow, rapid breaths, interrupted by the occasional twitch and whimper.
“Almost there, almost,” Diego whispered, when Finn cried out in his sleep. “Hang on for me.”
The sun rested on the tips of the conifers by the time he reached the pastor’s house, three miles south of the cabin.Armed with the keys, meticulous directions including caveats about the largest craters in the road and a casserole for dinner, Diego returned to the truck to remove Finn’s collar. His ears twitched but he didn’t even lift his head.
“You could shift back now if you wanted.”
“Perhaps later,” Finn whispered. “I’m so tired.”
The last few miles Diego took at a crawl. The main road abandoned, the approach to the cabin lay on an uneven, gravel track. Every hard jolt wrenched a moan from the backseat. The trees stood thick here, evergreens interspersed with birch and maple. He had expected quiet, an eerie silence, but sounds saturated the air. Cars, buses and jackhammers had been replaced by chirps, peeps and whistles.
“Noisy neighborhood,” Diego muttered, his unease growing with every sound he couldn’t identify.
After a final turn, the cabin loomed before them. ‘Cabin’ was an incredible misnomer. At least this monstrosity had been built out of wood, but there the resemblance to a one-room log structure ended. The array of windows on the second floor announced the existence of several bedrooms. A three-car garage large enough for a herd of limousines occupied the left side with an air of smug satisfaction. A flagstone-lined barbecue patio and a massive veranda graced the front of the house.
