E.Rohl
In movies when blood pours out of your body, they portray it as if you barely even notice. Hollywood has let society cling to the reassuring notion that when in danger, our fight or flight will save us from the violence of the pain.
Kate was groping around in the grass of her backyard clutching at the bite that tore her leg apart wondering where that magical shot of adrenaline was. Where was that undefeatable survival instinct, that was supposed to possess your body and lead you to safety, even after your leg was mangled?
She looked down at the blood gushing out of her calf at an alarming rate, shocked that there was anything in her at all. She thought she was empty. Devoid of the person she used to be. But then she looked down at the blood that slicked her hands like oil and realized that there was still something left of her previous self afterall… and she was losing it.
The thought made her dizzy. Kate studied the teeth marks that serrated her flesh, trying to focus on her next move. She was vulnerable in the autumn darkness, splayed out on the edge of her manicured lawn and the neighboring soybean field that seemed to expand on forever into the darkness. She was just out of reach of the bright flood lights fastened above her patio, that cast the yard in a protective pool of yellow warmth. Behind her, the sliding glass door to her patio was still ajar, and the glass itself was caked with rusty saliva. The sweeping brushstrokes of a bloody tongue lapping at the door was the only real evidence of struggle.
How could something like this happen to sweet, unassuming Kate? She thought of the girl she used to resemble, the girl who offered half her lunch to the kid in middle school who didn’t have the money for it. The girl who peddled six miles into town while balancing an unresponsive pup on her handlebars, just to save the neighbor’s dog who was carelessly discarded in the ditch by someone speeding on the field road. The girl who longed for nothing more in this world, than to fulfill the urge to help.
She was engulfed in the impossibility of it all… how a girl like herself ended up here? Bleeding out in her forlorn backyard.
It was like rewinding an old eight track in her head, she could feel the moments of her past whirring through her memory bank like a film on rewind.
How did the Kate she knew get transported here?
No one wants to look back on their life, especially at the end, with even a morsel of regret, unless they still have time to flip the script and rechart the ending to their story.
How did the loneliness of her life manifest into the monster quite literally gnawing at her limbs?
Maybe it wasn’t the loneliness at fault… maybe there was something else responsible for chiseling away at the person she was and slowly and unassumingly whittling her down to the person she is, cowering at the base of a field, gasping for breath and contemplating whether her life was even worth fighting for.
Over the thunder of her racing heart, and the monotonous chirping of crickets, the never-ending field of soybeans seemed to move. The wind bristled against the plants, bringing them to life. Slowly, Kate began to scoot backwards on her butt, dragging her dead leg with her. She watched in terror as the swaying waves of beans reverberated towards her, preparing to make way for him to emerge.
The eight track of her memories clicked into place…. It all started and ended with him.
When you’re bored in college, it’s pretty easy to become a cliché. As a first year vet school student, Kate often found herself indulging in the customary study break rituals. Sometimes it was going for a quick run, other times it was binging ice cream and old syndicated HBO shows. Today, Kate and her best friend were eager to escape the confines of their stale apartment and trade it in for the brown grass of campus the held the promise of freshly melted snow.
“Harris for Student Body President” cut through the spring air on a spiraling saucer. Kate and Lindsey were hurling a newly gifted frisbee back and forth. They were using the cheap voting merch as an excuse to stretch their legs, however the frisbee never seemed to land where it was aimed. With an easy flick of the wrist Kate sent the disc looping through the air in the wrong direction, only to be snatched in the jaws of a mangy looking dog.
“Good boy,” she cheered, beckoning him closer, as he proudly trotted over to her. “Such a good boy,” she scratched him behind the ears.
“Sorry about that,” a bashful guy followed closely behind, clutching the dog’s leash in a white fist.
“He has no self-control,” he apologized. When Kate made eye contact with the dog’s handler, she felt herself blush. He was almost as handsome as the dog. He was breathtaking, with broad shoulders, dark hair, and a blinding smile. She had never received attention from a man like that before.
“Ralph drop it,” he instructed, prying the soggy Frisbee from between the canine’s teeth. Together the two of them laughed and rubbed up on the dog, running their fingers through its matted hair. They shared fateful smiles and shy introductions in that moment, both acknowledging that from that day forward Ralph would be theirs.
Except he wasn’t ever their dog… only in memory. Ralph actually belonged to the shy boy’s roommate. That inauspicious spring day, the boy had been out begrudgingly walking Ralph because his roommate was out of town. Who knew that Ralph’s favorite game wasn’t playing fetch, but playing Cupid.
At the end of the day, while Kate didn’t get to keep the dog, she was satisfied with that quiet, handsome young man, who she now knew better as her husband James. Afterall, who wouldn’t be willing to give up a dog for a soulmate? At the time, it seemed like the easiest ask. A small sacrifice in return for a lifetime of love and happiness.
Before she knew it the days morphed into years. Hours passed by like mere minutes and there she was. Mrs. James Richardson. She could’ve been Dr. Richardson, but James told her it was best to step away from her veterinary practice to ensure she could pour her heart and soul into their aspiring family. Afterall it was their dream wasn’t it?
A small sacrifice in return for a lifetime of love and happiness. A simple favor, for the love of her life.
Had this really all started with a scruffy mutt adopted by a lonely college kid?
While that was the beginning, it wasn’t the middle or the end. It’s funny how walking down the hallways of your memory was a lonely undertaking. It was deserted here when you realized that you were the only one with such memories, because no one else shared quite the same experience.
What really sealed the deal on this love story was never a dog at all, it was the firework-worthy chemistry of Kate and James. Nobody seemed to understand the reasoning and functions of her brain quite like her husband… and being seen like that was a feeling of recognition all humans desperately strive for.
James instantly recognized that there were two things driving Kate on a day-to-day basis. The mind-numbing, painstaking, never-ending pursuit of perfection and her love of animals.
Kate had never sparkled with the glossy hair and breathtaking smile of a pageant queen. In the same sense, she was never the most gifted musician, or the most brilliant scholar in the room. She was average. Kate was plain, but what she realized was with a little elbow grease, she could go further than those who were great, because raw talent could never surpass her discipline.
Kate didn’t want to be forgotten along with the rest of those who were average, she wanted to be remembered along with the greats. She wanted to love the world and fix it better than anyone had before. That’s what she loved about science and medicine. It was imperfect. There was always room for new discovery and plenty room for improvement.
Their love was one of those things that wouldn’t be forgotten but remembered as out-of-this-world. Being loved like that made Kate feel extraordinary. James found a way to make all of the mundane, subtle details of everyday life sparkle with the glamour of a Hallmark movie. Their home wasn’t just a home, it was a labyrinth of a country mansion, the Richardson estate, buried in the foothills outside the city and surrounded by thousands of acres of farmland. Simple everyday activities like lunch, took the form of elaborate picnics on their sprawling property. While James was away on work trips, he never just missed her, he longed for her. This longing would manifest into endless spoils of roses, sweets and diamonds. On occasion, James would even rush home a few days early from his regular work trips. In an attempt at surprise, he’d show up unannounced on their doorstep ringing the doorbell. As if on cue, when the door would draw open, he’d scoop her up in his arms and quite literally sweep her off her feet, wasting no time laying her down and letting his lips wander over every inch of her.
She had to admit, beyond her eyerolls and bashful grumbling she loved to be wanted. The extravagance was an inescapable addiction.
To try to embolden the perfectionist inside of her, James encouraged endless cooking classes and workout routines and leading up to every international vacation he’d challenge her to learn the language and make a bet that she could beat him at a historical trivia contest.
All of these endeavors were adorned with endless compliments, as if despite his work and travels, he found nothing more titillating than the woman at home.
It was true she was the very best at being a wife, but anything easily conquered grows tired and falls flat. Especially when you had no one to share it with.
She truly blamed her budding unhappiness on his absence. He’d leave every week for days at a time, constantly boarding flights and leaving her to rot at home alone. She found herself not only missing her veterinary practice, but tempted to talk to the walls. The pictures of their vacations, the silks of her designer dresses, none of them could fill the void. She needed company.
Maybe she wanted a baby…. Then she wouldn’t be alone? That seemed like a better solution than her returning to work. A family had been a mutual goal. However, the more she thought about it the more she realized, a baby would not come soon enough. She needed immediate reprieve from the emptiness.
When James got home from the third work trip of the month, he found his beautiful wife, posted up on their back porch admiring the deserted stable at the back of the property. It was picturesque and quaint against the golden sunset with its red peeling paint and its cobwebbed gables.
“Well honey that’s just for show… an old family heirloom, a testament to the history of the farm and where we can from,” James had responded reasonably.
“But we have all this space, why can’t we put some animals in it?” She pleaded, wrapping her thin arms around him, and nuzzling into the base of his neck.
“Please James, I promise I’ll be good to them. Think about how it would enhance our dinners? Fresh meat, fresh milk, fresh eggs. We could start a real farm-to-table operation and grow and raise our own food. To be self-sufficient in a way,” her large eyes looked up at him ardently.
“Now why would you want to be self-sufficient my dear?” James cocked an eyebrow and tucked a loose spiral of hair behind her ears. “Haven’t I given you everything you’ve ever dreamed of?”
She felt her optimistic smile falter.
“I just miss you so much when you’re gone… I’d love something to do…. Something to keep me busy. Maybe a dog? To keep me company while you’re away?” She tried to sound upbeat, but she could hear the entreaty in her voice.
“I know my darling… but what if something happens to you?”
“Like what?” She could feel the heat of exasperation rising in her cheeks.
Something darkened in his expression, and his resolute silence told her the discussion was over.
“I’m sorry my love, but you’re my most important possession. I can’t risk anything happening to you,” he said resting a gentle kiss on her forehead before stalking back into the house and leaving his wife stewing in the milky twilight of August.
The word seemed to haunt her and mock her. It floated through her mind for the rest of her summer, a dark storm cloud hovering over what up until this point, had been a strong, loving relationship.
A possession? Kate would lay awake at night and imagine what was reflected back in her husband’s eyes when he greeted her.
She imagined looking into the dark glassy irises to see some version of herself propped up like a beautiful doll, staged on a shelf. Nothing more than a trophy, to be admired.
A doll! A doll! A doll! Sometimes the thought would grip her so vehemently that she’d choke into a fit of laughter that would give way to tears and quiet mournful sobs for the person she had expected to be.
For the remainder of the summer, James ignored her requests. It was as if he had hit the mute button on any of her polite cries for help. Instead of throwing her a lifeline, instead of providing support, he tried filling the void with house renovations, new cars and new gowns. With each new addition to her already overflowing closet, she grew more and more consumed with the idea of justice.
Maybe only even small steps in the right direction, but justice none the same.
When her husband was gone, she began stringing up bird feeders along the property. Dangling them from the sweeping branches of the maple trees that framed the old red stable and burying the contraptions in the lofty arms of the pine trees that lined their long driveway. The birds would easily find where they were nestled, but her husband would never catch sight of them.
She set about the house the entire fall, preparing her house for woodland creatures like a real-life Snow White. Instead of remodeling their bathroom, she instructed the construction team to install a manufactured pond, in the center of their property as a tiny refuge for geese and ducks on their way South for the winter.
While her husband had dismissed the idea of a pet, she decided that she would lure in her own. Leaving remnants of berries and nuts under the oaks for any deer that might be frolicking through the fields at night.
In the vacant barn, she had instructed their excavation team to fill the loft with fresh hay, and each night she would put out the leftovers from her dinner and warm milk in the hopes that just maybe a stray cat would wander over.
When her husband had landed back home, he immediately complimented her handiwork. “Now with that beautiful water, our property looks like an English country house,” he pecked her on the cheek proudly.
“Thank you, Darling,” she replied back, obediently setting the table for him. “I might even spruce it up with some of those fluorescent goldfish.”
“Now why would you do that?” He stopped chewing suddenly and frowned up at her.
“Because I want out home to be the best,” she smiled proudly, gesturing to the mountains of home and real estate books that graced their countertop.
“You are a quick study,” he nodded appreciatively. “I will think about the fish….can you imagine if someone could fish on our property? That would be uncanny,” he laughed, lacking a better word. “Just bizarre.”
For just a night she was pleased with her tact. It was becoming a game for her, a way to keep herself busy, to push the limit of her husband’s reservations, with undetectable persuasion.
The next morning, she indulged in her daily ritual of enjoying her coffee nestled in a blanket on the back porch, watching as the birds flocked under the leaves of their bright maple tree. Then feathers danced in the air like dust motes, lazily floating to the ground. Just like snow, the feathered bodies and delicate wings of sparrows thudded to the ground in a jarring blanket of corpses.
Trying to blink the vision away, Kate jumped to her feet and refocused her sight, peering down below to see the birds writhe beneath the foliage in anguish.
In a silent panic, Kate quietly padded down towards the trees flanking the stable to investigate. The frost-bitten grass crunched beneath her bare feet. On the ground, the birds succumbed to a slow death, their beaks ajar in muted squawks.
“There’s nothing here,” Kate muttered perplexed, gazing up into the arms of the tree. The bird feeder was still fixed to the mighty oak, but there was nothing to indicate a threat.
They must be sick, she reasoned. She had heard of Avarian Flu violently striking down birds mid-flight.
Her uneasiness was instantly abated as a dog emerged from out of the field. A mangy creature that paid Kate no mind, as it immediately reached down to scoop up a dead bird in its jaws.
“Hey!” She shouted, very cognizant of the fact her husband could wake up at any moment to the sound of her commotion. “Drop it!” She pointed at the ground.
“Drop it,” she beseeched, lowering her voice to a whisper as she got down on her knees in the wet grass.
“Want a treat?” She whispered trying to spark his interest. Though skinny and unkempt, the dog instantly recognized the command from a previous life of domestication. Eagerly he dropped the dead bird and followed her into the barn to devour the remnants of last night’s salmon that she had left out in hopes of attracting a kitten.
Something welled up inside her as she affectionately stroked the dogs matted coat. His fur was long and voluminous in shades of auburn and black. “A Bernese Mountain Dog,” she whispered knowingly. Beyond the fluff, his frame was only bones. “A boy who needs food,” she patted him gently, her fingers stroking around his rib cage.
“Good boy,” she murmured unable to suppress a massive grin. A dog was enough excitement that she easily forgot the mystery of the dead birds. As an autumn dawn continued to peak up over the trees and cornstalks in the distance, Kate soaked up the first hour of the morning with her newfound companion, sitting in her pajamas on the dirt floor of the barn, her fingers kneaded through the dogs matted fur, avidly untangling burs.
The dog instantly took to her, hopeful for more food, but momentarily satisfied with the human attention.
“I’m sorry buddy,” she whispered to the dog. “You can’t come in… but come back tonight when he’s gone.”
Kate hastily returned to the house, careful to remove all evidence of dew and dirt on her feet. A dog, she thought excitedly to herself. Her own real-life dog… She hadn’t had a pet in over a decade. Her face hurt from smiling as she thought of all the hikes they’d go on, the toys she’d buy him. But her fantasies were rudely interrupted.
“Darling?” James’ voice carried down their spiral staircase, Kate’s hands began to tremble as she assembled his toast and eggs on his plate.
“Good Morning dear,” she kissed him happily, trying to disguise her nerves.
“What on earth were you doing outside this morning?” He inquired unimpressed. “You’ll catch a cold.”
“I’m just getting so excited for the flag stones to be put in around the pond,” she lied. “I literally am dreaming about it…. Can you imagine how beautiful it will be once the brick and pavers are laid?”
This answer seemed to satisfy her dithering husband. “Alright,” he folded his lips into hers in a tender goodbye kiss. “Be good,” he teased squeezing her waist. “I will see you in a few days.”
It had been the shortest few days of her life. It was funny how something as complex as a human could find the most meaning to live in the simplest of things. An animal. A pet.
They were days marked by joy and not loneliness They were mornings marked with the anticipation of waking up to see if the dog would come to the patio door and enjoy her peace offerings. Instead of fixing breakfast for James, she’d make eggs and bacon for her dog.
Instead of admiring the excavations from her perch in the kitchen window, her and the furry mongrel trotted alone the property line, keeping tabs on all the home renovations and soaking up final remnants of autumn warmth.
On day four she realized she’d never be able to break her stray of these newfound habits, so she resigned herself to letting the dog sleep in her bed for the final night.
“Duke…” she whispered, furrowing her face into his matted tufts of hair as he slept beside her. “This is a bed made for a prince…. I will call you Duke,” Kate whispered dreamily.
She found that the bed was far warmer and far safer with her mighty beast in it. Every time she checked on him, she noticed he slept with one eye winking open.
Kate did all this with the expectation that her husband would appreciate the warmth and joy she found in this animal and reluctantly let her keep it.
However, it turned out the topic of pets truly was where the romance went to die….
“Go on now! Go home,” James roared at Duke who was gnawing on the bone in the front yard. Madly James was clutching at his throat to loosen his tie, as if it was a noose tightening around his bulging neck.
Behind him the car door was still ajar, swaying on the breeze. The sound of her husband’s nightly news podcast carried over the sound of his shouts.
The dog looked up from his handiwork and cocked his head in alarm as Kate’s blustering husband advanced on him.
“Get out of my yard!” James screeched, giving the dog a mighty kick in the ribs. The dog went flying across the browning grass, yelping as he tried to scuttle away.
“James stop!” Kate cried, frantically flying out the front door an apron still tied around her waist. “Stop!” She pleaded as he kicked the dog again, knocking the animal off balance and sending him helplessly rolling down the steep slope of their yard.
“We need to get this filthy animal off our property,” he shouted, avoiding her eyes. “Go back in the house you’re safe there,” James continued approaching the dog, never breaking his focus even as he raised an arm to tear a tree branch from the young oak tree near the driveway.
“Duke come here,” Kate whistled defiantly, beckoning for the dog. If the animal was wedged between her legs her, there was no way her husband would harm it.
That was enough to break his focus.
“Duke?” James whipped around, his accusing eyes boring holes into her.
“You named this ugly thing Duke?” He cried exasperated. “When the fuck did I tell you, you could get a dog?”
The broken tree branch that was once aimed as a weapon at Duke was now directed at her.
“So is that how it is?” James hissed, something dark brooding in his eyes. “I give you everything in the world and you hide things from me? Keep secrets?”
“I’m all alone,” she whispered, slowly retreating towards the front door. “And he’s harmless, he needs a home James.”
“Don’t get greedy with me,” James snarled, gesturing with the stick. “I’ve worked a long week, and I’ve given you everything your heart could possibly desire…don’t you get greedy with me,” he stabbed the stick in her direction to emphasize his words.
“James….” She felt something strange weave itself into her protest. Something completely unfamiliar to her. It was fear.
“James…. Stop,” she implored, nearly tripping over the steps as she backpedaled towards the porch. Behind them a growl emanated from Duke who kept to the ground, weight in his haunches, as if he was preparing to pounce.
Frozen to the spot, they both stared in disbelief as foam lathered the dog’s lips. It approached James predatorily, teeth bared, before bursting into a deafening chorus of panicked barks. Springing to his feet Duke lunged at James knocking the branch out of his hands.
“Fuck,” James shouted flailing his arms as the dog sank his teeth into the soft wool of his designer suit jacket. A loud tearing sound of something more than just fabric, pierced Kate’s ears and she cupped her hands to her head.
“Fuck… get off of me!” It was James’ turn to yelp as he tore his hand from the dog’s jaw and scrambled up the front steps.
“I will shoot you, you bastard!” He screeched, cradling his bloody forearm in his hands from the safety of the front stoop. “I will shoot him, “ James promised his wife with a deranged look in his eyes.
“You will not!” Kate replied crossly, ushering James inside to the kitchen so she could examine the wound.
“It bit through my clothes Kate,” James growled. “Do you seriously trust a dog more than me?” Silently Kate’s fingers went to work cleaning the cut under the facet as she ignored her husband’s winces. For some reason the absurdity of his remark silenced her. It stung deeper than the wound on his forearm that she diligently dressed with gauze.
Did she trust a dog more than her husband? The craziness of the accusation triggered a flood of guilt.
“I’m so, so sorry,” as she curled a bandage around his forearm, tears began to pool in the corners of her eyes.
“There are dangerous things out there Kate… old things….crazy things… things you could never dream up.” His voice sounded calm, logical almost.
His bullshit explanation this time better be good, she grimaced.
“Out here animals get a little senile. You can’t just let any stray animal in, you never know what will happen to it….”
“Why though?” She fired back, trying to strain the resentment from her voice.
“My father always told me there was something in the pesticides that got to them. There’s a reason we stopped farming livestock Kate….,” there was legitimate concern in his eyes.
“And they’re all inbred, even the damn cows.” At this they both chortled, trying to make light of their dispute. They had never disagreed so intensely. Never like this.
“That’s why we can’t have animals?” She looked up at him doubtfully.,
“Babe it sounds absolutely nuts, but you’ve got to believe me” he said pleadingly. “I’m just trying to protect you.”
He cupped her chin in his hand and tipped her eyes towards his. “Every living thing dies here…. There’s a reason we don’t farm the area anymore.”
“There’s still miles of crops all around us?” Kate eyebrows pinched together in consternation. Waiting for a suitable response, she poured herself a glass of water.
“Yes, but we stopped milking decades ago… the milk went sour… the cows gave birth to stillborns…. Something in the water,” James shrugged frankly, returning his eyes to his injury to admire her handiwork.
Metallic steel seemed to coat her tongue and her stomach lurched at the cool water that slid down her throat.
“What?” her voice lowered in horror, her mind racing towards the last few months, where their confidence in her fertility had dwindled at her lack of results… all these days making a home, but never able to give said home life.
“You never told me not to drink the water,” her voice wavered with the twang of tragedy. “You never told me….”
“You’ve been drinking it?” His eyes widened in concern.
“Alright… it’s fine darling… it’s fine… we’ll get bottled water shipped here first thing in the morning, okay?”
Her thoughts chased each other dizzyingly. She thought of the doctor’s appointments and the blood work that had been perfect. She thought of her healthy eating rituals, her exercise, her rest. No one had ever come as close to perfection.
The way the chandelier lights made the water droplets in her empty glass twinkle gutted her.
It had to be a wives’ tale… a myth….. but she couldn’t stop fixating on the water.
Kate didn’t even have the strength to nod as she collapsed into James’ arms and burst into a litany of sobs and apologies.
“It’s fine darling… it’s fine… it will all be fine,” James consoled her, trapping her deep within his embrace.
After tucking her into their California king, James perched on the opposite side of the luxurious bed, reduced to a shadow standing sentinel over his distraught wife.
“Promise me this darling…. Do not let that dog in again,” he murmured. “You must promise. It’s for your own good.”
Kate was caught in a web of half dreams, entangled somewhere between the drift of sleep and the reality of consciousness. “I promise,” she breathed with heavy fluttering eyelids.
“Good,” James nodded satisfied, taking one last sip of water from his glass before flicking off the lights. “Goodnight my love.”
It was truly remarkable how much waste plastic water bottles produced, Kate mused, milling around their beautiful kitchen a few days later. In the past few days, she had become a woman obsessed… the idea that there was something poisoning her nearly paralyzed her. She’d spent hours combing through health and wellness catalogues buying all of the prenatal supplements and flavored waters imaginable.
Funny enough, her health obsession eclipsed her longing for Duke. She’d spent hours compulsively straightening up their already tidy home, and throwing away bottle after bottle of empty plastic that littered every side table of their living room.
Kate was determined to nurse herself back to health, just like she had nursed her husband back to health after the precarious dog attack days earlier.
“Look at you… you could be a doctor…” James cupped a hand around her butt teasingly, before pecking her on the cheek. “You shouldn’t have cured me of my dog bite though… because now I must go back to reality.”
He squeezed her tightly balancing his bags in one hand and a piece of toast in the other. Kate could feel the tears of desperation welling up in her eyes… she needed something to keep her company, something to preoccupy her mind.
The thought that she was ill… that she was broken… was too much to bear. She couldn’t stand the thought of being alone with her thoughts. Worse, she didn’t want to be alone with her failure.
“You’ll be alright babe I promise,” James patted her shoulders gently. “Finish up the renovations, dream up all of the furniture we’re going to buy and the wallpaper we’ll use for the new library.”
She nodded solemnly seeing him off. As she watched him dawdle clumsily down their drive with suitcase in tow and slide into his car, she felt resentment bubbling up inside her… more poisonous than the water.
“As if housework is fun,” Kate scoffed.
Throughout the rest of the day, she oversaw the remainder of the outdoor excavation. She watched in wonder as a couple of men used a skid loader to release a life-sized goldfish bag of water into the man-made lagoon.
As if a giant bubble burst, the contents of the bag were released and shimmering flecks of orange and silver rippled underneath the fountain’s murky surface. For a while she was transfixed by the rainbow glimmer of the dark waters now that it was populated with fish. It gave the fountain the magic it desperately needed. Before she could dip her fingertips into the dark waters, movement from the field caught her eye. A magnificent looking Bernese Mountain Dog, curiously sticking his nose out from the soybeans was staring at her.
Though it was wrong, she couldn’t suppress a smile. “Come here Duke!” She waved for him, crouching down and patting her knee enthusiastically. Unable to resist she buried her head in the scruff of his neck. “Welcome home,” she breathed in relief as the dog followed her up the walk towards the back patio.
This time when James arrived home, Kate was prepared. She had curated the perfect ambience in their home, with fresh lit candles, and paint swatches she’d picked out arranged on the dinner table. A roast was simmering in the kitchen. Candle light washed over the enormous dining room. She was excited to have James home and to no longer be trapped with the echo of her own thoughts or the echo of her own voice that seemed to ruminate through the empty corridors of the house.
A good little housewife she thought to herself smugly, as she folded the linens just so, plastering a smile on her face for when he walked in. A carving knife felt familiar and comforting poised in her hand and warmth emanated through her at the knowledge that he’d never know what she was hiding back behind the house.
The dog food remnants had been swept clean from the patio, the stainless steel bowl hidden in the corner hedges. All evidence of pawprints that peppered their wood floors or a spray of saliva that built up along their glass doors had been erased. The lingering aroma of disinfectant still stung her nostrils, and she massaged the handle of the carving knife against the raw pads of her fingertips.
“I’m home honey,” James burst through the front door triumphantly outstretching his arms, ready for his usual greeting at the door.
“Hello my love,” she planted an affectionate kiss on his lips, buttering him up for dinner. After serving him his favorite meal she excitedly walked him through the different wallpapers and paint colors she’d picked out for the house, while he nodded along in approval.
It was a wonder to Kate how she’d become so insufferably boring. James laughed and listened as if his work affairs were trivial in comparison to her decision on wallpapers for their library. “This one’s emerald… and this one’s sage,” Kate said meticulously walking him through each design’s differences, disgusted with herself at how flippant she sounded.
It’s all for Duke she silently encouraged herself, knowing James would never suspect a thing.
“I’m so proud of you,” James praised her between mouthfuls of mashed potatoes. “You really do seem so much better,” he smiled. If only he knew.
That night she was startled awake by the sound of a dog barking right outside. “Duke!” Kate whispered clutching the sheets to her chest and bolting upright. Beside her the bed was still warm, the sheets disheveled, but her husband’s side was empty.
“No,” she whispered in horror, throwing herself out of bed and propelling herself forward. She stomped down the steps taking two at a time.
“Honey!” Kate cried frantically knocking over a vase on the coffee table in the sitting room as she slid into the kitchen. The patio door was ajar, the toll of the dog’s barks boomed like alarm bells.
Kate stopped beside the kitchen island with a full view of their patio. Nervously she kneaded the fabric tie of her terrycloth robe, trying to stop her hands from trembling. She saw her husband’s back to her, standing motionless and silent facing the soybean field. His body seemed to sway gently in the brisk air. Just outside the hazy circle of the patio flood lights, Kate could see beady eyes peering out of the edge of the soybeans and a four-legged shadow bobbing in time to the tune of each bark.
“Honey?” Kate called quieter this time, unsettled by her husband’s stillness.
“James?” He didn’t respond. Slowly he turned to face her, the veins bulging from the forehead of his ashen face.
“What’s this?” His voice shuddered violently in his throat, failing to constrict his fury.
She glanced down at the stainless steel bowl in his hands that had been hidden in the shrubs.
“What did I tell you about feeding that dog Kate?” He growled, not bothering to wait for an answer. She couldn’t meet his eyes, her own gaze fixated on the rifle cocked in his right hand.
“What did I tell you Kate?”
The use of her name felt cruel somehow as if saying her name would force her to take accountability. As if feeding a stray dog was as evil and dishonest as an affair. Slowly she retreated deeper into the kitchen, like a child cowering away from punishment.
“What did I tell you Kate?” He roared throwing the dog bowl at her feet. It coldly clattered against the ground.
The gunshots echoed in her ears leaving behind a deafening silence. Kate sank to the kitchen floor consumed by the force of her hushed sobs.
When James returned inside it was as if he didn’t even see his wife, crumpled up on the wood floor. He stepped over her as if she was nothing more than a pair of shoes on the rug. When he ascended the staircase to return to bed without her, she could barely make out his incessant grumbling.
“No way I missed that bastard,” he grunted, rubbing fists into his bleary eyes before he disappeared up onto the second-floor landing. “No fucking way I missed.”
Afterwards she didn’t follow him to bed, instead she curled up on the welcome mat near their patio door and drowned in her tears. Tucking her legs up against her chest she tried rocking herself to sleep, interrupted by the memory of the gunshots.
James had to fly out again the following morning and had seemingly developed a grudge during the remaining hours of the night. She had ruined their blissful and routine mid-week reunion, and he wasn’t about to let her forget it.
“Do not under any circumstances feed anything that comes to that door Kate… trust me… we don’t need a dog,” he snarled bristling past her towards the front door.
“Understand?” James glowered.
Kate nodded solemnly averting her eyes as James slammed the door behind him, leaving the empty house ricocheting with the force of his anger.
Was there a chance he had truly missed? It was very dark the previous night, the moon was tucked away in a suffocating bed of shadows.
Compulsively Kate went outside to investigate, stalking through the undulating soybeans, scavenging the perimeter for blood drops. She couldn’t find a thing.
Her anguish was eclipsed by hope, the feeling seemed to unfurl throughout her body giving the entire day an air of possibility.
James would be gone for another three days… and the dog… well Duke might in fact still be alive. While irrational, she found herself lost in a daydream of escape. A vision of herself rescuing the dog and the dog rescuing her from this faraway farm and the two of them making a getaway. To a city perhaps. A new home. A house surrounded by neighbors just a few yards away, with well-kept sidewalks and well-maintained parks for her to walk him in.
Kate resolved to find her Duke. This daydream played on in her head like a trance as she trekked back up to the house, so caught up in her thoughts that she failed to notice the bulbous fluorescent fish that were limply surfacing at the top of the fountain. Their bloated, lifeless bodies twinkled on the water’s surface like jewels in the autumn sun.
This afternoon she had reclaimed Duke’s stainless steel dog food bowl, and tonight she prepared him a serving of raw steak. It was the most expensive cut you could order. Typically it was reserved for her husband, but tonight she’d feed it to her prince.
“Come back to me sweet boy,” she whispered, setting out the meat just outside the patio door. Around her the breeze nipped at her with the ferocity of winter. Through the darkness she couldn’t make out any signs of wildlife above the noises of the wind. Maybe the wind would carry the smell of her peace offerings and bring her boy home.
That night she resented the empty bed, not because she missed the presence of her husband’s body incubating under the sheets, but because she missed the weight of a dog curled up at the end of the mattress.
“Duke?” Kate jolted upright in bed, wondering how many hours had passed since she’d fallen asleep. Two maybe three?
“Duke?” She whispered hearing a far-off sound of scratching coming from downstairs, followed by the familiar clang of the metal dog food bowl being nuzzled across the brick of the patio.
Her heart leapt as she cinched her robe, put on her shoes and scurried downstairs in the dark.
As she drew closer to the patio door, the pawing at the glass became louder. Through the darkness she could just barely make out the motions of Duke’s long tongue tracing circles on the glass of the door.
“A hungry boy,” she couldn’t suppress a chuckle at the dog’s childish urge to put everything in his mouth.
Kate herself was a dark shadow hovering in the doorway her white robe illuminating her outline. Her hand hovered just above the patio door as her fingers instinctively flinched to unlock it, but she paused for a moment only to flick on the outdoor lights for good measure.
Outside the patio flood lights blanched out the stone pavers revealing the bloody remnants of a steak and saliva smeared on the glass door.
Kate’s expectant smile seemed to malfunction. The corners of her mouth twitched numbly in shock.
It was James.
“Woof, woof, woof….” James stark naked body trembled with the force of his barks as he howled at the door, perched on all fours he continued to bark and lick the window and paw at the door with his injured hand.
“Woof… woof… woof,” he yowled, the blood from the raw steak dripping from between his teeth.
Unable to process it, Kate retreated into the kitchen stumbling backwards over a barstool.
“Let me in Kate, I just want to play,” James grinned manically before barking again.
Clapping a hand to her mouth, Kate resisted the urge to scream and she fought her churning nausea that threatened to climb up her throat.
Madly she dashed upstairs, locking her bedroom door and cowardly climbing into her bed.
Kate felt like a child again as she tugged the comforter taunt over her head and prayed for the boogeyman to disappear.
Some small desperate part of her was certain that if she couldn’t see trouble, trouble wouldn’t find her.
Her hands grew cold and began to shake with the tremors of her fear. Instinctively she reached for her phone, but she couldn’t quite articulate what she would say.
“Hello, 911? My husband’s running around like a dog in our yard….” The thought was so ridiculous she let out an anxious laugh that manifested into a sob.
Suddenly she heard a hoarse, satirical bark emanate from the foot of her bed. Kate froze, she could feel her entire heart falling out of her chest, sinking like a bowling ball through the mattress and through the floor.
“Don’t you want to sleep with your dog Kate?” A shrill inhuman voice chilled her bones.
Just talk to him and he’ll calm down, she reassured herself. Slowly peeling back the comforter from her head.
Her husband’s head just barely peeked up over the foot of the bed, cocked ever so slightly. His mouth was ajar, his tongue lazily rolling out of his mouth like a dog salivating. His frenzied eyes landed on her.
“Don’t you want to sleep with a dog instead of your husband Kate?” He grinned with lunacy.
She could barely hear him over the heartbeat pounding in her chest. Before she could speak he pounced on the bed clawing away at the sheets before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of her calf.
“James!” she screamed wrestling with him through the tangle of linens. With a heavy kick, she momentarily escaped him, falling to the floor with a thud.
“I told you not to let anything in Kate….” James warned, perched on all fours on the floor. “But you didn’t listen…..”
Before she could make her appeal, he pounced again, burying his demented smile deeper into the fresh wound above her ankle and tearing the flesh between his teeth.
The blood curdling scream that emanated from her throat rattled her bones and seemed to shake the very foundation of the house.
Impulsively Kate took her manicured fingers and wielded them like talons, burying them deep into the sockets of James’ eyes.
He reared back, roaring in agony as her fingers churned through flesh and fluid. Enough time for a mad escape.
Clumsily she dashed to her feet, jumping down the stairs two at a time, her left calf going increasingly numb as she left a slippery trail of blood behind her.
When she pushed herself through the sliding glass door and out into the brisk night, the moon seemed to blink awake even brighter, illuminating a path for her as she hobbled down past the stable and through the trees. When she reached the tack stall of the barn, she paused, her chest heaving as she surveyed the area for any kind of tool that could be used as a weapon.
Her eyes fell on the bag of bird food tipped over next to the water well. Though she had no time to spare, something drew her forward. Kate studied the chalky bird food that seemed to be laced with peculiar chunks of green. Thoughtfully she sniffed, and it was reminiscent of and the mouse traps that they stationed on the floor of the old basement in her childhood home.
“Rat poison?” She whispered to herself astonished, feeling crippling guilt at the prospect of accidentally poisoning her bird feeders. “And…” her eyes had to adjust to the shadows of the barn. She picked up a glass bottle that had been carelessly left opened next to the water well.
“Mercury?” Suddenly her mouth went dry in horror even though all she longed for was a cold drink of water.
“Kate!” James ghoulish calls raised the hairs on the back of her neck. “I’m coming!”
With no other alternatives, Kate settled on a hand-held gardening rake, securing it to the inside of her terry cloth robe, just under the waistband of her underwear.
There was no time to lose. She slipped out the back of the barn with a stone in hand, edging around the shade of the tree line, trying to avoid detection. In the eerie moonlight, she could see his muscles ripple under his translucent skin as he crawled across the lawn, sniffing the grass like a blood hound fixed on her scent.
Confronting this madness was no longer an option. She didn’t recognize the man stalking around their yard like a predator. All she needed was escape.
Holding her breath, Kate silently wound up her right arm. She imagined she was back on a middle school softball field, quickly returning an outfield hit to the pitcher’s mound. With a prayer and minimal balance, Kate flicked her wrist and flung a stone out of the shadows and into the soybean field. It landed with a satisfying thud, that sent a ripple shivering throughout the stalks. It was loud enough that James stopped sniffing the ground, shifting his attention to the movement on the horizon.
Deep in the throes of insanity, her husband took off on all fours barking into the soybeans. She felt disoriented while she waited for him to disappear off into the distance, for her to make her final escape.
Kate could feel herself growing dizzy, she knew she was losing so much blood. It was nearly impossible to stand at this rate, so she carefully started crawling along the tree line that bordered on the soybean field, back towards the flood lights of the house.
The tape of her mind clicked back into place. She was here. It was now. While she couldn’t comprehend what had happened to her husband, she immediately recognized what had happened to her. All along it had been him. Grooming her and draining her and suffocating her and convincing her that life here alone was paradise and not a prison.
Like a butterfly put on a display, her wings were slowly and meticulously being pinned back to the mounting board. Was she going to try to salvage the promise of her past self and the potential of her future? Or was she going to let him kill her?
Over the thunder of her racing heart, and the monotonous chirping of crickets, the never-ending field of soybeans seemed to move. He had smartened up and he was coming back for her. The wind ruffled the plants that seemed to dance around her. Slowly, Kate began to scoot backwards on her butt, dragging her dead leg with her. She watched in terror as the swaying waves of beans reverberated towards her, preparing to make way for him to emerge.
Kate was finally ready to face him.
“Here boy,” she whispered, scared of the taunting in her own quavering voice. Her right hand firmly gripped the hilt of the gardening rake. “Here boy!” She bellowed madly, scooting backwards away from the tremoring soybean field.
He seemed to erupt from the leaves, ferociously jumping on her, both hands poised and ready to strike as they throttled her throat.
When the leaden weight of his naked body collided into her, Kate held her breath and braced the sharp edges of the gardening rake, wincing as the rusty points became embedded into James’ stomach and chest.
He howled in agony and momentarily released his grip on her throat to struggle with the dull blades jabbed into his torso. Kate seized the moment of his distraction.
Oddly enough it wasn’t a burst of adrenaline that came to save her. Kate’s will to live was buried deep in her resentment, not for James, but for herself. For the pathetic embarrassing woman she had grown into. A woman who let her husband tell her she couldn’t have a dog… or more importantly a life. And though the tendons of her weak left leg screamed in protest, she pushed herself to her feet. She wasn’t going to get away from him by crawling.
At first Kate hobbled, but then she got her stride, not even bothering to run into the house, but instead trying to disappear into the tree line that flanked the driveway.
The house was a useless shelter. It was no more than a prison, a prison to which her husband held the keys.
It felt like an eternity, but she charged forward through the darkness, praying that she stuck the gardening rake in deeper than a couple centimeters.
Her heart and lungs might burst as she sprinted, her left leg barely able to balance on the ground as she skipped along, towards the highway, her arms pumping to propel herself forward.
“Kate!”
She could hear the inhuman gait of his ape-like run. James galloped behind her on all fours barking.
“Kate!”
If she could just get to the road, if she could just flail around and signal for her help.
The air whistled through her nostrils and pressed against her lungs like sandpaper as she heard him behind her closing in. Just a few more feet. The gravel shoulder of the highway was just a few strides away, a quarter of a mile down the road she could see the blinding high beams of an oncoming semi. The only traffic around these parts at this time of night.
The pebbled pavement stung under her bare feet and relief coursed through her as she cowered in the light of the oncoming truck. Blinded she started frantically waving the bloodied sleeves of her white terrycloth robe. She continued to stumble out of the line of fire, to the other gravel shoulder, when the edge of her robe caught on something.
“I was just trying to protect you, you ungrateful bit-,” James snarled between gritted teeth that savagely bit into the bottom of the robe. She struggled away from him, the road starting to shake beneath her like a with the force of the incoming semi.
“James!” She screamed pleadingly with no more time to spare, but they were both interrupted. The sound of barking came from the edge of the road behind him – wolf-like growls of a real dog. James momentarily loosened his grip on her robe, tilting his headed slightly to catch a glimpse of Duke approaching menacingly, just before the semi whizzed past.
The gust from the approaching truck seemed to reverberate through Kate, the threatening promise of roadside death looming inches away from her as the semi roared past, horn blaring.
Kate screamed and screamed and screamed burying her head in her hands, wishing that the sound of her guttural horror would drown out the noise of her husband’s naked body colliding with the grill of a 50,000-pound semi.
She could feel the blood from the impact pepper her skin like confetti, as James’ corpse sailed down the highway with the unrelenting speed of a sleepy driver.
Kate collapsed in a miserable heap a few feet away from the other side of the road barely able to catch her breath. A beautiful Bernese Mountain Dog approached her cautiously, nuzzling up to her.
“Duke….” She whispered burying her face in his matted fur. “You saved me.”
That night a starved dog and an abused woman spent one last night in the bloodied California King of the Richardson estate, before packing up and moving to the city.
Kate was no longer alone.
The Works of E.Rohl 