Say That Again (15 page)

“Uh, no, not really. We live next door — well, across the road — and just wanted to say ‘howdy’.” Hunter went up the steps and extended his hand, figuring it was best to at least make the gesture and then excuse themselves as quickly as possible. “I’m Hunter McHugh. I run the Samuels Vet Clinic in town. This is my wife, Jenn. She used to be a bank manager, but is busy raising our two daughters now.”

“Hi.” Jenn waved politely, but remained at the bottom of the porch stairs.

The man stared at Hunter’s outstretched hand, then quite reluctantly clasped it without making eye contact. “Hello, Dr. McHugh.” His eyes flicked to Jenn. “Mrs. McHugh.”

“Please, that’s too formal. You can call us Jenn and Hunter. Or Hunter and Jenn. They’re interchangeable.”

The man leveled an insistent gaze at Hunter. “If you’ll excuse me ...”

“Do you need some help?” Before even seeing her expression, Hunter could sense Jenn’s inward sigh. He grinned at her in apology, then looking back toward their neighbor, stuck his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Sorry, I don’t know what to call you.”

“
Mr
. Menendez.”

Hunter raised his brows in question. “Jack Menendez?”

“No.”

“Frank? John? Bill? Ted?” Hunter forced a laugh, hoping the guy would lighten up. He was a tough nut to crack.

“If you want to run a criminal records check on me, it’s Hector Arturo Menendez. Heck, for short. My parents were Cuban, but I was born here. Now again, if you’ll excuse me ...” He brushed past Hunter and went down the steps without so much as nodding at Jenn.

She tossed Hunter a ‘What the hell?’ look. He rolled his eyes, then hurried to catch up with her as she made a break for it.

“Bye, Mr. Menendez,” Jenn offered with a wave from halfway down the driveway.

“Bye, Heck.” Hunter spun around, walking backward a few steps. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call. We’re in the phone book. Or just stop by. Anytime. Don’t be a stranger.”

Heck gave a perfunctory nod as he took a box from the rental van and went back inside.

When they were back in their own driveway, Jenn slapped Hunter on the arm.

“What?” he said.

“Satisfied?”

“It was worth a try. Maybe he’ll warm up, eventually.”

“I’ll consider him a good neighbor if he doesn’t throw wild parties and collect junk cars.” She grabbed the dishtowel from the railing and flung it over her shoulder. “Fetch Hannah, will you? I need to go into town to pick Maura up from softball practice. The girls have a dental appointment in an hour.”

“Hah, good luck with that.” Maura would be fine, as usual, but Hannah could go either way. She didn’t mind the dental instruments; it was the assistant having their hands crammed in her mouth for more than a few seconds that could set her off. Checking his watch, Hunter realized he had a quick farm call to make that afternoon and needed to be on his way. He trotted over to the tree where Hannah was. She was gazing up into the branches.

“What are you —?”

She pressed a finger to her lips.

For a good long minute, Hunter searched among the leaves. He saw a couple of birds there, robins maybe, but nothing else. Crouching down to scratch Echo behind the ears, he waited for a couple more minutes. Every time he looked into that dog’s eyes, he couldn’t help but think he’d known him for a long time already.

He glanced at his daughter. Hannah hadn’t changed positions. He wasn’t even sure she’d blinked since he came over.

“Honey, I really need to —”

“Shhh!” She flapped a hand at him. “Listen,” she whispered.

He did. All he heard was an occasional chirp from overhead. Somewhere in the distance a tractor hummed. Another hay cutting. It had been a dry year. They’d be lucky to get a third. Farther away, cars zoomed along the state highway.

“Hannah, I have to go. And Mommy wants you to come inside to get ready to go. Is it something important?”

Finally, she looked at him, the narrow space between her eyebrows creased as if she were angry with him for breaking the silence. She pointed somewhere up in the tree. “The baby. It’s going to try to fly, but the mom and dad are worried. They don’t think he’s ready.”

“Ah, I see. All parents feel like that when their kids leave home for the first time. Come on. We need to go. Mommy’s taking you to get your teeth checked. There’s a new toothbrush in it for you if you’re good.” He lifted an arm toward the house in encouragement. It could be hard to redirect Hannah when she had her mind fixed on something even as simple as this. She couldn’t leave one thing and come back to it later without some kind of closure. “Tell you what — I should be back before you. I’ll check for the baby bird then. If he’s sitting on the ground, I’ll put him back in the nest, okay?”

He didn’t even know where the nest was, but he had to say something to get her moving.

Although she didn’t seem entirely convinced, Hunter was able to get her away from the tree and see her off with Jenn. After that, he drove to the east side of Adair County to Tommy and Beth Appleton’s farm to tend to their goats. Tommy used to do all of the hoof trimming, worming, and vaccinating himself, but at eighty-two he was too stiff in the joints to manage it by himself anymore. So nowadays he just called on Hunter to do the brunt of the work while he handed him the hoof nippers, paste, and syringes.

When Hunter returned home, he let Echo out of his kennel to do his business while he watered the tomato plants. As Australian Shepherds went, Echo was pretty typical: mentally and physically active, a decent watchdog, and a little on the quirky side. He was black and white, which was a less common color combination for the breed, but everything else about him was Aussie, right down to his bobtail. The one trait he seemed to lack was any working instinct. Hunter had introduced him to his mother’s sheep on three occasions so far and the dog hadn’t displayed a lick of interest. In Hunter’s eyes, it wasn’t critical, but it would have been nice to have a dog that could have helped with livestock when needed. At any rate, he was a good companion for Hannah, and that was even more important.

A strange scrabbling noise drew Hunter’s attention and he went around the corner of the garage to find Echo pawing at the bottom of Hannah’s empty kiddy pool. Hunter pressed the lever on the hose nozzle and shot a stream of water in Echo’s direction. The dog snapped at the water playfully. It took a good five minutes, but Hunter was able to fill the pool up. While he finished watering the garden, Echo dunked his head into the pool water and snorted bubbles. Eventually, the dog lowered himself fully into the water to lay in it. He didn’t leave the pool until Hunter began walking toward the Crooked Tree.

As Hunter stopped to inspect the ground near the tree, Echo rolled his shoulders in a giant shake, flinging water over Hunter’s front.

“Hey!” Hunter turned his face away until Echo was done. “A little warning next time, okay? Crazy Aussie.”

As far as Hunter could see, there was no baby bird beneath the Crooked Tree. Craning his neck, he looked up into the tangle of branches. It took some time, but he finally spied the robins’ nest. Both parents were sitting beside it, cocking their heads at him. He surveyed the area one more time. No sign of any baby bird.

Hunter was about to head on inside to see what he could make for dinner when he noticed Echo sitting on the far side of the tree near a clump of grass. Echo tipped his head side to side, his ears cocked as if listening. Hunter had an idea about what had his attention.

More down than feathers, the baby bird rested between Echo’s paws. Hunter nudged Echo away and looked more closely. The eyes were closed, the mouth fixed open in a last gasp. He poked it with a finger. The body was cold, already stiffening. It was dry, so Echo hadn’t had the poor thing in his mouth. No, the little bird had fallen. Not ready to fly, just like Hannah had said.

He fetched a shovel from the garage and scooped up the little body, then buried it in the garden next to a pepper plant as Echo looked on. To make it less obvious, he retrieved the rake next and smoothed the freshly upturned dirt, then scratched at a broader area down the row of peppers. Not that Hannah would have a clue there was anything buried belowground, but she often took notice of the oddest details, so Hunter wasn’t taking any chances.

Together, he and Echo went in the house. Just as he opened the refrigerator door to peer inside, a text from Jenn came through:

On our way home soon. Burgers on plate, middle shelf, fridge. Tater tots and corn in freezer
.

It was Tuesday. How could he forget? Hannah had to have tater tots on Tuesdays.

After preheating the oven and putting the burgers on, Hunter set the table and put out the condiments, placing the ketchup bottle squarely in front of Hannah’s plate. The whole time, Echo watched him astutely, golden-brown eyes following Hunter’s every movement as he spoke to the dog. Hunter often talked to the animals he was treating in a low, calm voice as a way of soothing their nerves, but with Echo it almost seemed like he understood every word and that, if he could, he’d talk back. The dog already had an impressive arsenal of commands that he followed: sit, down, stay, come, off ... All the usual. But almost daily, Hunter would take one object, repeat its name, then mix it in a pile of other things and ask Echo to bring it.

“Bring me the Frisbee,” he’d say, and Echo would flip through the pile until he found it, then drop it at Hunter’s feet.

To test him, Hunter would go through a list of items. Eleven straight was the record so far. When Echo tired of the game or got confused, he would resort to fetching his favorite toy — a squeaky giraffe, similar to the stuffed one called Faustine that Hannah still slept with.

Echo was easily the smartest dog Hunter had ever known. Since Halo, that was.

Car tires crunched on gravel. Jenn was home with the girls. Hunter mussed the hair on top of Echo’s head fondly, then poured the drinks, put the food on the table, and sat down to wait.

Jenn and Maura tromped through the door wearily, stopping at the sink to wash their hands.

“Hey,” Hunter hailed, “how’d it go, sport?”

Maura twisted her face, her lower lip drooping noticeably on one side. “Can’t feel my tongue.”

“Cavity.” Jenn slid into her chair and arranged pickle slices on her burger. “Her first and only so far, though.”

“Well, that’s not so bad, then,” Hunter consoled. “In our day, back when we drank Kool-Aid by the gallon with every meal, most every kid had a mouthful of silver-filled molars. Kids these days aren’t going to know what dentures are.” He scooped a ladle-full of corn onto his plate. “Where’s Hannah?”

“She insisted on checking under the Crooked Tree for some baby bird,” Jenn said. “If she doesn’t come inside soon, I’ll go get her.”

Hunter cringed. Hopefully, once she didn’t find anything, she’d be satisfied that all had gone well and let the whole episode go. He slid twelve tater tots onto her plate and then took some for himself.

Two minutes later, she plodded through the back door and plopped down in her chair, staring sullenly at the tater tots. She didn’t even bother to arrange them in three rows of four — or maybe it was four rows of three. There was a difference.

“What’s up, sweet pea?” Hunter was prepared for this. He’d dealt with two deceased hamsters when Maura was little, before Hannah came along. “You look a little sad.”

Hannah didn’t even look up from her plate when Echo rested his chin on her knee. “It’s gone.”

“What is?”

“The baby bird.”

“Ah, right. Maybe it flew away? I think I saw a small robin over in the hedge row when I came home. It took off across the field.” Sometimes little white lies were necessary, he reasoned.

Hannah’s face hardened as she turned her gaze on him. Her breathing grew more audible as she forced breaths through pinched nostrils. “It died.”

“Why do you say that?” Hunter bit into his hamburger. She was only guessing.

“You buried it in the garden, Daddy.”

He stopped in mid-chew, suddenly aware of the sinking feeling in his stomach. How could she possibly —?

“They told me so,” Hannah added before he could ask. Not that he was going to, although he did wonder how she’d come to that conclusion.

Finishing his bite, he washed it down with a swallow of almond milk. “Who told you?”

“The mommy and daddy. They saw you pick it up with a shovel and carry it to the garden and put dirt on top of it.”

Stunned, he set his glass down. Jenn and Maura had stopped eating and were staring at Hunter like he’d just been caught stealing the Halloween candy early. Hannah glowered at him. Even Echo had his intense golden eyes fixed accusingly on Hunter.

There was no way out of this, except to tell her the truth. “Okay, yeah, I, uh ... I found him, actually Echo found him. He was already dead. So I gave him a proper burial.” He reached his fingers across the table toward Hannah’s, then turned his hand over. “I’m sorry, sweet pea. I didn’t want to upset you. It happens to a lot of baby animals in the wild.”

Ignoring his apology, she pushed her plate back, got up, and trudged out the door. The screen door banged behind her. Jenn got up and watched her through the kitchen window.

“She’s sitting under her tree, again,” she said. She opened the door and ushered Echo out to look over her. “Wonder how many meals she’ll miss before she breaks down and eats something?”

“Could be days,” Maura muttered. “If I did that, you’d —”

“Don’t,” Jenn warned. “Hannah’s not like you. You’re a whole lot easier to reason with.” Sitting back down at the table, she said, “How did she know that?”

Hunter knew. He was convinced of it now. Yet there was no way he was going to say it out loud. Just like he didn’t tell people certain things about himself, like passing through a long tunnel toward a white light or seeing dead people. He cornered a spoonful of corn and munched it down. “Lucky guess, I suppose.”

But one glance at Jenn told him even she had her suspicions.

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—o00o—

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L
ater that night, when Hunter found Hannah asleep under the Crooked Tree and carried her to her bed, her lashes fluttered in half-wakefulness. He put Faustine on her tummy. She folded an arm around the giraffe in a light hug and he pulled the blanket up to tuck her in.