Solutions: A Dog's Dilemma - James Gerard (reading strategies book txt) 📗

A Dog Fight

 “Rick, Rick,” a voice whispered.

 

His eyes barely opened.  The scene was blurry.  There was no recognition of the face that stared down upon him or any familiar object that jogged the memory.  The voice that rang with a familiar tone was whispering “Rick.”

 

His arms were stiff and weak.  They just barely propped the aching body to an upright position.  Jolts of pain hit fully as the eyes and mind finally came into focus.  An ankle throbbed.  Joints in shoulders and elbows and wrists were racked with agony.  The back ached.  The sudden shift in pressure sent pulsing pain to the head as he looked to the smiling face.

 

“Well, good morning.”

 

Nausea consumed the pit of his stomach.  Dry heaves tried to rid the contents of the stomach but all the grass that had been consumed had already been processed.

 

“Am I dead?”

 

“No, you are not dead.  But what are you doing here?”

 

“Where’s here?”

 

“About fifty meters from the village.”

 

Rick looked around, but could not adjust fast enough to recognize the hazy structures that lay ahead in the distance.  He rubbed his eyes then looked at the light that was emanating from fires and concluded they blazed within the village square.

 

“Here,” said Sebastian, “drink some water.”

 

Rick knocked away the ladle from Sebastian’s hand and grabbed the whole bucket.  Cold water splashed and spilled about him, dribbled out of his mouth as he gulped down half the contents.  A long pause followed and then the water came spewing back out in multiple convulsions.  Once the impulse had passed, he took a few more gulps.

 

A cool morning breeze attended to the heat burning skin on face, arms, and neck, but the heat was too intense for the wind to handle.  His thirst quenched for the time being, the remaining water came splashing down on the head and the nape of the neck further cooling off the fire and reducing it to a simmer. 

 

“Get me more?”

 

“Sure.  It’s right over there.”

 

Rick looked in the direction but did not see anything.  Then he heard the rushing sound emanating from the bottom of the dry stream bed.  Ignoring the pain throughout the body, he struggled to stand.  A grimace hit his face in reaction to an ankle throbbing, but he managed to hobble over to the rushing stream and splash; jumped in and through the surface to the cold and dark bed of rocks that lay hidden beneath.

 

Sebastian shouted, “What do you think you are doing?”

 

“This feels so good.”

 

“That water is too cold.  Get out of there now.”

 

Water splashed all about as cries of relief filled the early morning air.  He stood about chest high, anchored a hand onto a root of a bush protruding through the soil, and fully immersed himself in the coolness of the water.

 

“I am serious.  Come out of there now!” Sebastian commanded.

 

Rick looked to Sebastian and smiled, then yelled out “dive, dive, dive,” and disappeared again into the deep.

 

Sebastian slid down the side of the stream bed, grabbed Rick’s hand, and managed to pull him partially above the water.

 

“Wee” preceded another splash.

 

Rick drank the water straight from the source.   The cool and gentle flow reenergized the body, removed all the aches and pains, quenched the thirst, and soothed the dusty throat.  Finally, at Sebastian’s beckoning, he climbed up the bank and came to rest next to his friend.

 

“How in the world did you know I was here?”

 

“Easy.  I heard you screaming.”

 

“Oh yeah,” said Rick massaging his calves, “I was cramping up all night.”

 

“You were so close.  Why did you not just come in?”

 

“I didn’t know I was that...wait a minute.  If you heard me screaming all night, why didn’t you come out and help me?”

 

 “I thought it best just to sit here and let you rest.”

 

“Gee.  How considerate of you; I think.”

 

“How did you get here?  Jack and Amanda did not come back.”

 

“I walked.”

 

As the sun made its presence known with a hue of red over the horizon, he saw Sebastian shake his head as in disbelief.  He looked at the newness of the day’s sky and felt renewed and invigorated.  He looked out towards the mountains but could not see them.  The sky was now a mix of crimson red and brilliant hue of blue that was high above the wind rustling the bushes.  The early morning brisk breeze sent remnants of the late summer’s harvest swirling through the air.

 

“Why are you here?” asked Sebastian as he stared at the mountains.

 

“I don’t know," sighed Rick.  "I’m just here.”

 

“In this short time I have known you Rick, I noticed you have a strange way of expressing yourself.  So, I ask you again.  Why are you here?”

 

Rick knew why he was there all along, but it was hard to admit and reveal the reason.  He had come to accept the fact whether he was out in the street, in a shelter, at a hotel, in an apartment, or in a house, it always was the result of pure anger.  He knew he came with Jack in anger, stayed here in anger, left in anger, and came back in anger.  In fact, he now realized he had just about killed himself with anger in returning to the village.

 

He glanced at Sebastian and then turned his attention to the ground.  He didn’t know if Sebastian could condone, let alone understand the truth about his pathetic life.  Then again, he thought, who am I kidding?

 

“Because…because I mess up so bad Sebastian I always end up with really no place…no home to go back to.”

 

“You can go back home Rick.  There is a way.”

 

Rick felt fatigue wrestle the energy away.  He had never felt such a fatigue before.  In a moment he analyzed the response, but the remedy to the dilemma was not so easy.               

 

“No there isn’t.  You don’t understand there is no home to go back to.”

 

“I think there is.”

 

“No, no, you just don’t understand do you?  I’m a nothing Sebastian, an absolute dog.  Don’t you get it?   Don’t you know, isn’t it apparent I’m just a failure?   Why the hell would I be here if I had a life?  Can’t you see, can’t you understand that I do the same old thing time after time after time after time…just a stupid cycle over and over again.  And look, amazing, I, I’m back sleeping on a hard surface again.  Oh my God what a surprise.  Stop the presses. Stand by for this news alert.

 

“What do you do when someone messes with you just to mess with you?  Do you stand up for yourself?   Can I have another please?   Do you let things eat away at you until surprise, like a huge volcano the hatred stored inside your guts just spews out in tirades of hurt?  Do you let yourself get screwed over.  Oh no, not you.  You are from money.  What do you have to worry about?  After this is over you just go home to your nice life.  Me, I got the same old nothingness to look forward to day after day.

 

“Do you let people lie to you?  You’re rich.  The police ain’t gonna touch you.  The finest lawyers your money can buy will make all the back door deals and make everything go away.  I don’t have that.  I can’t defend myself.  Oh no, how dare I defend myself.  Who am I?  Am I important?  Who listens to me?  Do you say ‘no’ but feel Guilty; say ‘yes’ sometimes and get pissed off because you let that person walk all over you.  But I can’t say anything.  No, just let it brew inside then bam!  Explosion.  Reason becomes non-existent.  You ask me why I am here.    Wow, what a shock.  I blew up at Jack, left the plane, walked here, so what else in new.   Why, because this was the only place I knew to go to.”

 

Sebastian leaned in close, wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “But still, why?  Why are you here?

 

“For Christ’s sake Sebastian, what the hell don’t you understand?  I got nowhere to go.”

 

“They are here my friend.  If you go to the village their anger will only increase.”

 

All Rick needed to hear was ‘they’ and ‘anger’ to turn the kindled flame flickering in the mind into an atomic explosion of pure anger.

 

“I can care less.  If someone is looking for a fight then bring it on.”

 

“The fight is with a man named Armando and his band of men.  I do not think it would be wise for you to issue a challenge.”

 

“I don’t care.  I’m tired and hungry.  Just let them get in my way.”

 

“But you will not be the only one in danger.  When they came in and saw all the boxes of food, the water trucks, all the stuff left behind by the medical team, they demanded to know where we were hiding all of you.  If you come in now, they will think we had been hiding you.  The villagers will get hurt Rick.”

 

“What do you want me to do?  You want me to walk back to the airport?  Oh yeah, I can be a homeless dog there.  You know, ‘Sir can you spare fifty cents?’  Better yet, make a sign saying ‘I will work for food.’  Hey, even better, I can be a robber, steal from people.  Yeah, that’s it.  That’s what I will do.  Sure Sebastian that is just a wonderful idea.”

 

Sebastian stood up and looked down on Rick.  “You do not understand.   But if you want to come back, then I will not stop you.”

 

“Can you help me up?” Rick asked as he extended a hand towards Sebastian.

 

Sebastian supported Rick as they managed to hobble their way back to the village.  His body could only bare so much stiffness and soreness.  If there were to be a violent physical encounter, he already knew the anger within was more than willing to fight back.  At best, he reasoned, loud and tough talk would be all he had to do to show their bluff.  If they attacked, they would then be at his mercy; a severe beating or a beating to death.  In the dark recesses of his mind, however, his own prospect of death, the prospect of finally escaping the hell on Earth in itself was a comforting thought.

 

A voice yelled out.  Two men came running towards Rick and Sebastian.  Rick roared, formed a fist and ran into the challenge.  Sebastian, however, grabbed his shirt, restrained the outbreak of anger.

 

Santa Rosa came alive with people scrambling about.  One of the men ran up to Rick and stuck the barrel of a rifle as far up a nostril as possible.  Sebastian was just about to say something and a bang rang out.  The gunshot reverberated in the air.  The mayhem ceased.  Two spinning knives passed within an inch to either side of his head.  He froze.  His heart beat out of control.  

 

Still restrained by Sebastian’s hand, Rick eyed the man that threw the knives.  He was tall and burly, wearing a shirt and pants covered with stains and rips and shoes that were falling apart.  Dark eyes stared through a thick matte of facial hair that covered nearly the entire face.  Another man stood behind the first.  A bit taller but lean, with a clean shaven face, but wore clothes that mirrored that of the other.  A pistol dangled from his hand.

 

The bigger man walked right into the face of Rick.  He noticed the machete held firmly by a piece of rope tied around the waist.  The smell reminded him of himself and his homeless acquaintances.   Black and broken and missing teeth and the stench of rotting breath