Déjà-vu
She was always waiting for letters. Always. Since she was a child. All her life.
Addresses changed. The trees seemed smaller, people more distant, hope a faint hush.
He trusted no one, expected nothing. An ordinary looking man, sturdy and unremarkable. Work. And at home, a dog. His journeys were solitary, or with the dog padding alongside.
She was an enchanting young woman with large, sorrowful eyes. Once, someone asked her:
What will you never leave home without?
My smile! she answered, and the dimples in her cheeks offered silent proof.
For as long as she could remember, her closest friends had been boys. Pirate in a skirt was the name the children in the cul-de-sac gave her. But she had a secret game, played only when alone. She pretended to be a mother with many children, a kind husband, all living in a sprawling, snug house circled by a beautiful garden.
He couldnt picture life without athletics; in the garage, cups and medals and certificates slumbered away in a box. He kept them out of respect for his parents, whod always brimmed with pride. He often meant to return them. His victories werent for winnings sake; he simply loved the rush. To push himself to exhaustion, until every last drop of sweat was spent, and afterward, to feel a sudden surgenew strength, a different breath.
Her parents had died. She was about seven. She and her little brother, separated, sent off to different childrens homes. That was where they grew up, through their own battles, sorrows, and occasional joys. That old institutional life was gone. Now, they lived across from one another: a neighbourhood of modest houses, sun-dappled paths, cheerful gardens, and nooks fragrant with greengrocers stalls. Her brothers family was her true and only anchor.
A fretful day… Her shift ended. She cut through the car lot to her car. Old George caught up, hugged her like a father, and thanked her for the homemade sausage rolls.
Go home and rest, you hear?
Plenty of time for that. She waved, blew him a kiss on the cheek, and hurried on.
Oh, you the ambulance driver sighed as she left.
On holidays, they were often rostered together; few wanted to work such days, not even the doctors.
There were two other men on the medical crew. Her colleagues were cold towards her. She liked to look neat and smart. She found that a cheerful, well-groomed doctor could change the mood of a whole ward.
He was speeding, as fast as he dared. The trophies rattled in the box in the boot, his dog whined nervously on the back seat. His father had suggested they spend New Year’s Eve as a family. Excited by a rare chance not to work, he moved the box into the car that morning. He missed working with the ladshe enjoyed coachingbut those rare family get-togethers left a bittersweet ache.
Just before the holiday, a phone call woke him before dawn.
Your mums not well. His fathers voice trembled. The old soldiera retired Colonelcouldnt disguise his anxiety. His mother and father, sweethearts since schooldays, still looked at each other with a spark few possessed. It seemed as though they were in on a secret the rest of the world missed.
She smiled, weary but genuine. She baked a mountain of pies every New Years Eve, delivering them after her shift across town. Today, she had even managed a few hours sleep in the on-call room; otherwise, Old George would never have let her drive. Hed have insisted on ferrying her himself, grinning over his mug of tea at her sheepish smile.
Ten miles to her parents old house. Suddenly, the wind picked up, snow began. She recalled how her dog had balked at getting in the car a few hours ago, the clattering from the boot, incessant journeys, roads folding into roads…
Mum, Dad, hold on Theres no one else but you.
The dog licked the back of his head, as if reading his mind.
Sorry, mate, and yesof course you too!
She let the engine idle. The blizzard was untimely. Only one pie left. Two, three miles, then the country road, and round the bend, the cottage where her favourite patient livednot so much a granny as an intrepid, sparkling woman with a husband who matched her step for step. The sort of people her parents might have become.
A sharp shadow darted forth. Right under the wheelsin the endless, falling flour of snow from the sky.
Where did you come from, dog? From the woods? Or did you escape someone?… Such lovely eyes!… Why is your neck sticky?… My jumpers soaked… So sleepy… Jack, Jack, old friend… Why does it hurt so? Mum, Dad, Im coming… Im nearly there… Darkness.
Old George couldnt be reached. Hed gone to fetch his grandchildren. An ambulance would never get through; the drifting was too deep.
Hang on, lad…, just a bit more, Ill get you out. Lord above!… There’s a dog too…
She started to move off as a grey car flew past, tyres spinning.
Someones in a hurry home, she thought. A few minutes later, she saw the same grey car upside down in a ditch, spinning in the slush. The black dog lay a few yards on, somehow still breathing.
Whats the time, anyway? She never cared for hot water, but now a scalding shower steadied her shaking. She sat curled on the bathroom floor, eyes closed, breath shaky. If only I could sleep…
Howd you pull him out? Strong bloke, that one!her brothers voice echoed in her mind. Her muscles cinched, as if replaying the pain.
She had ferried the man and two dogs to hospital in her own car. Halfway there, her brother met them to help. On the return trip, she remembered the pie for her favourite couples cottage, so she brought the box that had tumbled from the wrecked grey cars boot.
Maybe its important. Theyre all alive, thats what counts. Hell wake up and Ill bring it back.
The old ladys husband, a bewildered look on his face, answered the door.
Did something happen?it slipped out.
My wifes in hospital. Im just about to visit. Our son never made it home. I cant get through…
She was silent, her head cast down.
Are you all right?he took her hand gently.
Let me drive you, she offered.
They drove in silence. The blizzard began to clear.
That box on your back seat, how did it get there?the Colonel finally broke, unable to hold it in.
There was a crash. A man tried to avoid a dog running from the woods; his car rolled, the box bounced out.
A grey car, white dog inside, and the stray in the road was black? his voice now a hush.
She stopped, turned to him. He clenched his fists, stared at the roads white shimmer.
Hes alive! And your wife will get better. She hugged him.
Love, may I call you that?
Of course, tears caught in her eyes.
My wife kept dreaming of a black dog these last nights. My lads got a white one. Where did that black one even come from!?
Such beautiful eyes. Incredible. Sad… his first thought on waking. His father dozed beside the hospital bed.
Mum. The crash. Memory rushed in. And those eyes
They celebrated New Year at the end of January. Mum recovered. His father glowed with happiness. Jack, the dog, limped a little, but that too would mend. Work beckonedjunior players needed bringing back together after the holidays, training for coming matches. He had lingered too long under his parents’ roof Yet thoughts kept circling back to the woman.
He had just reached the gate when his father called down from the loft window.
You need any help, Dad?
The old man gave a sly smile. Scanning the attic, he spotted his own old trophies lined neatly along a shelf.
Now then, Colonel, whats the story? he grinned.
Think about it Go on, Ill take Jack for a walk before you leave.
She hurried home, earlier than usual. Dina was waiting for her. She couldnt leave her behind at the vets, not after shed come around. Otherwise, Dina would have ended up at a shelter. She wasnt all blackon her chest, a white patch shaped like a heart.
She entered her building, opening her letterbox out of habit. About to close it again, she caught a glimpse of an envelope.
Inside, it said:
Ill see you tonight. Thank you, dearest!
Love, like a compass, guides us home.
