Page 94 of A Much Younger Man
Chapter Twenty-Two
Beck:Thinking about you. How are the dogs?
I looked at the text and wondered how I should respond. Even in the shade, the temperature was over a hundred degrees. Biting flies buzzed all around me. Sweat dripped from my face in rivers. It got so bad I had to borrow a bandana from April to keep it out of my eyes. And every dog we pulled out was worse off than the one before. I rehydrated every hour, but it still didn’t feel like enough.
On top of that, we were wading into the river Styx to pull dogs out. Skeletal, half-dead, sore-covered creatures so pitiful that even I spent most of the time fighting nausea.
This was grim, grim work, and I was loath to share it with Beck, who was made of light and music.
Lindy: It’s pretty bad here.
Beck: How are you?
Lindy: Taking a ten-minute hydration break.I looked at what I typed through blurry eyes. God, could I be more perfunctory?
Lindy: You deserve a better answer. I wish I was with you on the beach. I wish I’d gone to your party and let the smoke blow in my face because…you. Sounds so goddamn good right now.
Beck: You’re kind of worrying me. Are you really okay?
Lindy: This is bad. It’s always bad, but this is BAD.
Beck: What can I do?
Lindy: Be the perfect elven prince I have in my mind right now. Play music. Smile. Be happy. That’s what I see when I think of you. Be that. Shine, so I can find my way home.
It was a while before he answered.
Beck: You’re making me cry.
Lindy: No. God, please forgive me. I’m just tired. Not making sense. Sorry.
Beck: I wish I could be there with you.
Lindy: No. You really don’t.
One long day turned into two before most of the dogs were safely in the hands of veterinarians or animal control and on reserve for nonprofit rescue organizations, like NorCal Siberian Rescue, for removal and fostering.
I sometimes underestimated how many wonderful human networks there were to rescue animals under circumstances like these. Whether it was pathological animal hoarders, or puppy mills, or ordinary breeders who let greed or misplaced optimism blind them to the duty of care they had on behalf of the animals they took on, these humane organizations were still a drop in the bucket compared to the number of animals in need. The second night, I was asleep when my phone buzzed.
Beck: Lena says you’re coming home tomorrow.
Lindy: Yes.
Beck: What can I do? What would you like?
Lindy: Just want to see you, shower, and sleep for a week.
Beck: It’s a promise. I’ll weld the doors shut and close all the blinds.
Lindy: I’m so tired.
Beck: You’re almost home.
Lindy: Yes, Home and heart, here I come.
Beck: Hearth?
Lindy: No. Heart.
