As long as it didn’t include more danger — or dogs — I’d be just fine.
It was after I saw my very own, man’s-best-friend, Buddy Boy, I grasped the entire truth ¯ things would never be fine again.
Danger and dogs have continued to haunt and harass me since that historic day, and considering my commute to work takes over an hour on Highway101, I have tons of time to reminisce and often end up revisiting my perilous past.
Once at work, the impressions from the animals are my main concern, making it difficult to sort through my own thoughts. When people question why I don’t move closer to the wildlife park, I’m able to tell the truth — the long drive relaxes me; it helps me process my past and plan for my future.
Glancing in the rearview mirror, I smoothed a stray ringlet behind my ear. I wished the early nineties spiral perms would come back in style. My long curls were the source of many compliments, mostly from women with super-straight hair.
It’s funny how women, me included, are never satisfied with their looks. My eyes, emerald green, are my best asset, although a few men might tell you otherwise. Not that they’ve seen more than me in a swimsuit sunning myself. Lean and lithe, but with a fanny I consider too rounded, I move with grace. However, I’m clumsy. That’s right; a graceful woman prone to accidents, yet another “gift” I unwrapped following my coma.
The cell phone’s buzz tugged me away from my self-appraisal. “I’m on my way, Luke,” I confirmed, trying not to sound snippy. He made it a habit to check in at least once during my drive to Plum Beach.
“Of course you are. When is my Dr. Doolittle ever late? By the way, you took off yesterday before I could check on you; did you get my messages last night?”
“Yes, I’m fine, and you’re right about one thing: I’m never late,” I replied dutifully. It was a childish game we played; making small talk when a ton of sexual heat sizzled between us.
As one of the last known virgins over twenty, I still notice that my employer is an attractive man. Who wouldn’t? Six feet tall, sun-streaked hair, and sea-blue eyes make him the all-American dream boy. Mom is always quick to remind me, during our Sunday evening phone calls, how attractive and established Mr. Snider is. She also points out the fact that he is single.
“Not true, Chloe, you were not only late, but also missed work with that flu bug.”
“Six months ago, for two days. Everyone else milked you for a week of sick time,” I reminded him. Ensuring he appreciated my integrity, I rubbed in my superior work habits every available opportunity.
“See you.” He hung up, ending our everyday debate.
I was relieved. He’d avoided quizzing me about my latest incident in The Lion’s Den. I doubted anyone else would be as considerate.
Outside the passenger window, the Pacific Ocean glimmered in the Monday morning sunlight. The water shimmered inviting me into blue depths for a swim. I was a certified sun-lover. Weather like today reminded me of new beginnings. Maybe this would be the day someone or something would bring a little spark of excitement to light up my life. A girl could wish, right? Dealing with angry lions wasn’t the type of excitement I was seeking.
The siren and flashing lights behind me were the first indication that this might be the day.
As always, I’d left home in plenty of time to account for any unexpected issues. Waiting for the patrolman, his paunch leading the way, to reach my window wasn’t the spark I’d been hoping for.
“Good morning, Miss. I’m Officer Tate. Do you realize you have a broken left tail light and you were going seven miles over the posted speed limit?”
I decided to keep it simple and avoid any sarcasm.
“I didn’t realize …”
Woof! Woof! A dog barked from the cruiser, sounding fierce. My guts clenched in response. Dogs always had that annoying affect on me.
“Pipe down, Barney!” Officer Tate hollered back.
Woof!
The dog didn’t seem to be minding his manners. I decided to see what had Barney all riled up.
Relaxing my mind, I listened. The process worked better if I could look into an animal’s eyes, but I could still glean enough from the barks to get a picture. My brain did its special thing and the images started flowing. Barney was in pain. A tumor, the size of a small apple was growing