Page 144 of Before We Say Goodbye
They stepped down the row. Scents of desert sage filled the air. The vines had come alive and begun to push out leaves. Another vintage wasupon them. No matter what happened, another vintage always came. A lot like those ferries that Carmine spoke about going to Ischia.
There was always another vintage.
How many did he have left?
“I hope to see you again, Amigo. You saved my life.” He kissed the coyote on the side of the nose and held him up to meet his eyes. Forever they would be connected.
Emptiness hollowed out his heart. How many more goodbyes could he handle?
But he had to get better at letting go.
He set Amigo down, and the wild dog perked up his ears when the coyotes howled again.
“Howl back, my friend. I must leave you now.”
Amigo stared up into Otis’s eyes, lost and alone.
“You have to howl. Call to them. They’ll come for you.”
With those words, he nearly buckled to the ground. His family gone.
Gone for now, though. They were his forever family, out there in some cellular composition of their own, be it in heaven or scattered like dust in a celestial cloud. They were here in his heart and on this land that he would farm in their honor till the day the vines pulled him back into the earth.
Another howl, then a song from them, the wild dogs singing into the night.Ahwwoooo!
Amigo twisted his head, then walked a few feet toward the sound. His leg worked wonderfully, and should he find his family, he’d be okay.
At the next call, Amigo attempted to respond, but no sound came from his mouth.
Otis knelt next to him. “You must call them back, Amigo. Please. They will come to you. They will guide you home.”
Amigo looked like he might cry, if it were possible.
Fear of finding Amigo dead in the morning rose over him. Could he take care of himself through the night? Perhaps it was Otis’s job to shelter him, to raise him.
No.
Otis had to let go. He had to trust that the world always lined up in the end, that the grand design would lay out like a road hidden in the darkness.
“Let’s try together,” Otis said. On all fours, he made a soft sound, howling gently, easily, letting the coyote know that it was okay.
Amigo looked like he might start laughing at him.
“Okay, wise guy, show me how it’s done.”
Amigo kept watching Otis.
Otis tried again, this time slightly louder. “Ahhhhwwoooooo!”
The wild dog shuffled his feet and let out a meager bark.
“There you go.” Otis felt the night then, the power it had.
“Again, do it again.” Otis drew in a deep breath, and then: “Ahwwwoooooo!”
Amigo lit up, his eyes glowing in the darkness.
Then came the calls from the night back to them, a collective howl of the desert dogs. They were drawing closer.
