Page 42 of Edge of Ruin
“Did he just vanish?” she persisted, following me.
“I’m fine now. Let’s leave it.”
“Excuse me,” she said. “Never mind. I know it’s none of my business.”
Fuck. I felt like shit, but I did not want to talk about it. I was dick-for-brains stupid for bringing it up and ruining our excellent mood.
A distressed yelping came from the trees. Vivi picked her way hastily through the flower beds toward the pine thicket. I caught up with her as she plunged into the trees. Her dog was whining and pawing anxiously at her muzzle.
Vivi grabbed her collar and crouched down, holding the trembling dog still. “Easy, girl,” she soothed. “Oh, God. Oh, no.”
Porcupine quills stuck out of Edna’s nose and jaw, like long, crazy whiskers.
I crouched down and took the dog’s shivering head in my hands, examining it. “There are only twelve,” I said. “I’ve seen worse.”
Vivi bit her lip, searching through Edna’s coat for more quills.
“Let’s go to the house,” I suggested. “I’ve got scissors. Pliers.”
“I don’t want to bother you with this,” she murmured, not meeting my eyes. “I’ve got pliers in my jewelry toolbox. I’ll deal with it.”
I gave her a horrified look. “Get real.”
Edna slunk between them, tail down, through the woods as they went back toward the house. Our camaraderie, that perfect elusive glow of joy, was gone.
It was so elusive. Such a fucking mystery. I wished I knew how to hang on to it.
Once at the house, I led her and her dog into my front room. I got the scissors and the pliers out and kneeled down beside them on the floor. “Hold her,” I said.
Vivi held her dog firmly as I snipped off the ends of the quills. Edna made high-pitched whining noises in the back of her throat.
“Why are you doing that?” she asked. “What’s the point of it?”
“I’ve been told that if you trim the end of the quills, the vacuum inside collapses and the barbs should let go more easily,” I explained. “Theoretically, at least. I haven’t tested the theory personally.”
Vivi blinked, and swallowed. “Oh,” she whispered.
We powered through the painful job. It didn’t really take all that long to pull out the quills, but it felt like forever. Vivi winced with each shrill yelp and jerk, although her low voice never stopped murmuring low encouragement.
I tried to be brisk and matter-of-fact, but by the time we were done, Jesus. I sagged back against the side of my sofa, limp as a wet rag. Inflicting pain on an innocent animal was fucking horrible, whether it was for the animal’s own good or not. Thank God I worked with plants. I needed a drink after that ordeal.
Edna curled up in Vivi’s lap, still trembling. Vivi was bent over her, her face hidden against the dog’s silky brown shoulder.
Leaving me all alone, with memories flooding back, weirdly sharp and clear. Taking over my whole goddamn mind. I couldn’t stop seeing it. Hearing it in my mind’s eye. That June night when a wild-eyed Uncle Freddy had slapped me on the shoulder.
“Sorry, kid, but I’ve got to run. They got Pete, and Pete’s such an airhead, he’ll give me up for sure. I gotta leave the country.”
I remember my stomach heaving. “Where are you going?”
“I’m not gonna tell you where. It’s safer that way. Here.” He thrust a handful of limp, grimy bills into my grubby, nerveless hand. “Take this. I wish it was more, but it’s all I can spare.”
“Can’t I come with you?” I asked.
“I wish you could, Jackie, but you don’t have a passport. Shit, I don’t even think you have a birth certificate. I’ll be an outlaw, see? I can’t have a kid. Keep your head low and your mouth shut, okay?”
“Okay,” I said dully, pocketing the money.
“We shoulda drilled for this, but it was going so well. I got sloppy.” Freddy gripped my skinny shoulders in his big, work-stained hands. “Lemme give you some advice. Don’t mix it up with the police, the social workers. Hit the road. Go out and seek your fortune. You can do better for yourself outside the system.”
