Dream Chaser (13 page)

She took my hand and placed a key in it. “Just be sure to lock the doors after you’re inside for safety and turn the lights off when you leave.”

I stared. “Are you sure?” The studio was her life. I’d never heard of her giving anyone a key, but knowing I could come here by myself and run numbers without worrying who watched would be heaven. No more being ridiculed by an inquisitive eight-year-old sister or a judgmental teen terror named Chloe.

“Absolutely.” She smiled like my grandma does when she see me. “I have the utmost faith and trust in you Willow.”

“Thank you. I’ll be very careful with it.” Her confidence helped wash away the ill taste of my struggles with the show. I hugged her with the key held tight in my fist.

You know how sometimes you’re stuck in a dream and you can’t wake up? Or you know you’re dreaming, but you’re kind of awake at the same time? That was Sunday morning. I dreamt that I was dancing, because, gee, I sure hadn’t done much of that in the last couple of days. But in this dream, it was the day before opening night and I didn’t know any of the steps, so I was trying to fake it. But I stood front and center, and Chloe kept laughing at me.

I had this fake smile plastered on my face like little girls in a beauty pageant. Grin so big your fillings show, and then the audience will like you, right? Then Eli grabbed my arm and shook me because I kept messing up, but I couldn’t stop dancing. As Eli kept shaking me, I heard Breezy.

“Wake up, Willow,
wake
up.”

In my dreamy haze I wondered why Breezy was onstage during the show. Then Dream Eli looked at me like he wondered why I was sleeping on stage during our dance.

“Willow, Twinkie had another shaky thing.” I heard Breezy’s distant voice cry.

I kept trying to dance, but my arm hurt from Eli and Breezy hitting me. Then I realized Breezy was actually hitting me.

“What!” I startled awake so fast, I wasn’t sure where I was for a second. Then the fuzziness cleared, and I saw Breezy on the edge of my bed with a worried face. No Eli.

“Twinkie did that shaky thing and pooped and everything.”

I blinked a couple times to clear away the cobwebs. “Oh no! Is she okay?” I jolted up in bed. My voice sounded low and rough like sandpaper. Not sure if it was from my owl hooting yesterday or just waking up.

“The shaking stopped, but she’s just lying there in my room, staring at nothing.” Breezy’s lower lip quivered.

I bolted out of my warm bed and rushed to her room. My muscles played a repeat of yesterday. I ignored it the best I could and did kind of a speed-limp walk. Dad kneeled on the floor next to Twinkie, who lay stretched out on her side. When I got to her, she looked at me and wagged her tail.

“There you go. See, Breezy. She’s going to be all right.”
Dad pet Twinkie’s side.

Breezy stood behind me, keeping distance between her and our mysteriously sick dog.

“Has she had any others?” I asked under my breath. Dad gave a slight nod. I chewed at my lip.

“Looks like Twinkie and I are going for another check-up, aren’t we girl,” he said in a cheery voice for Breezy’s sake.

Breezy wrapped her arms around my neck, her head plastered to mine. I reached up and patted her arms. “Don’t worry,” I said. “The vet will get her all fixed up.”

“Promise?” Her voice squeaked with emotion.

“I promise the vet will do everything he can to make her feel better,” Dad said.

Her little head nodded against mine, her arms still wrapped tight around my neck like a rubber band around a newspaper.

“And we better call mom, too,” Breezy added.

“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Dad agreed.

“How about pancakes?” I suggested, knowing it was the quickest way to release the static cling of Breezy.

“Really
?!
” She lit up.

“Sure, we’ll make this a special day.”

“Good plan,” Dad said. “This afternoon, after I get back from the vet, I have to go down to the Memorial Union for an art show. How about you take Breezy sledding? We got a fresh two inches last night.”

“Yeah! Can we? Please.” Breezy bounced behind me.

I gave Dad the evil eye. Smooth move. Taking Mini Me sledding was the last thing I wanted to do, next to, say, singing a solo in front of hundreds of people. But on the bright side, it was definitely a step up from flipping around in the air for cheer.

“Fine,” I groaned. “But not right now. Later, when I’m awake.”
And hopefully in less physical pain.

We destroyed the kitchen making pancakes, which I was able to do only because it was an Amish pre-made mix and Breezy helped. Then I did more yoga in hopes of stretching out my sore, knotted muscles. This time Breezy joined me.

Dad came home with Twinkie. He said the vet gave him some pills to help control the seizures and that Twinkie should resume normal activities.

Breezy wouldn’t let the sledding thing go, so finally I gave in and bundled her up.

 
“We should bring Twinkie, too,” she informed me.

“I’m not bringing a dog to the sledding hill. She’ll get hit by some out-of-control kid on a snow board.” I hauled a sled out of the basement.

“No, she won’t. I’ll take care of her. She’s had a bad day and needs to be cheered up” Breezy stuck her hands on her hips, which looked funny in her puffy
snow suit
.

“Breezy, it’s a long walk with you, a sled, and the dog.”

“Walk? You want to go for a walk, girl?” Breezy patted her legs.

Twinkie jumped up and nearly knocked Breezy over.

“You want to go sledding don’t you?” Breezy let Twinkie lick her face, which always grosses me out.

“Come on Willow, she wants to go.” Twinkie’s tail wagged like mad.

“Fine, but you have to hold her leash on the way there and back.”

“Goody!” She hugged Twinkie around the neck.

So I pulled on my Dad’s old winter coat, Mom’s Sorel’s and a pair of mittens from the bottom of the
mis
-matched box of winter stuff.

I trudged six blocks to the sledding hill between Lake Monona and Atwood Avenue. Breezy sang De
Colores
, a Spanish song she learned at school; Twinkie trotted along happy as a clam.

Eli and I used to love to sled. We started coming here right after we met during the third grade; it felt like yesterday. We never went home until we were so cold we could barely hold the sled rope through our frozen mittens.

But now sledding is a pain in the ass. So is Eli.

The hill was packed; nothing
like
a couple inches of fresh snow to bring out every grade
schooler
in the city. Within seconds of arrival, Breezy spotted a friend from school and took off.

I pulled down Dad’s coat so it would cover my butt and sat on it in the snow to avoid getting my jeans wet. Twinkie lay next to me and watched the kids, her head on her paws and her tail wagging. I put my boot on the end of her leash to keep her near me.

While Breezy squealed and yelled at me to watch, my mind wandered. Things look so different when you’re older. This hill used to be huge, but now it wasn’t big at all. Funny how perspective changes when you grow up. It used to be a wide-open expanse, but now all the trees and bushes were overgrown, and a gas station and convenience store stood next to a new apartment building and a video rental store.

Twinkie stood up and started to whine.

“What’s the matter girl?” I ruffled her fur.

She started pacing and acting strange. I leaned forward to pet her. “Are you okay?” Her eyes looked wild and frightened.

“It’s okay, you’re fine.” I shifted to get closer to her. My boot came off the end of her leash about the time she decided to bolt. She took off like a shot down the hill toward the buildings and the road.

“Twinkie!” I yelled, already on my feet after her. “Breezy, stay here with Ally, don’t you dare leave!” I shouted as I skittered my way down the hill.

Twinkie ran into bushes then darted around the front of the video store and disappeared.

“Twinkie! Here girl,” I yelled and ran to the video store. They had huge evergreen shrubs that covered both front corners of the store. “Twinkie! Twinkie!” I yelled, feeling kind of stupid as people who were returning their movies gave me odd looks. I searched through one group of bushes. Nothing. “Twinkie!

“I saw a dog run around the corner of the gas station,” said a woman as she climbed back into her minivan.

“Thanks.” I took off that direction.

“Twinkie!” I yelled again when I reached the gas station, now out of breath. Where the heck had she gone? I stood there, looking around, and wondered what to do. She’d never run off before. What if I couldn’t find her?

“Twinkie!” I yelled. This could not be happening. Cars kept pulling in and out; she could easily be hit.

A couple guys walked to their car. “Twinkie, Twinkie,” they mocked in high-pitched voices and laughed.

Jerks.

I gave them a dirty look then noticed a sporty blue jeep parked at the pump. Eli leaned against the gleaming vehicle, looking really good. The collar of his coat was flipped up and his hair was blowing in the wind. Then he raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. He had been watching me make a fool of myself. He shook his head and chuckled.

“Need some help?” He stood there all cool and arrogant. I wanted to smack him.

“No, I got this,” I said, disgusted.

“Whatever you say.” He turned and got into his overpriced wheels and drove off.

Asshole
. I guess our truce only existed during rehearsals.

I turned to look for Twinkie, too embarrassed to scream her name again. I walked around the side of the gas station. Nothing. I went around back and found her in the snow by the dumpsters. She was having another seizure.

I ran over and knelt in the snow in front of her while she
spasmed
out of control. Her mouth was locked open, and her eyes looked like a marbles.

“Oh girl, I’m sorry.” I reached to pet her; her body was rigid as it convulsed over and over. Helpless, I covered my mouth and watched my beautiful dog trapped in
her own
body.

It lasted a couple more minutes then slowed to a few twitches and stopped. Seconds later, she gasped a huge breath, and I realized she couldn’t breathe during the seizure.

“Oh sweetie, it’s over now. It’s over.” I
lay
in the snow next to her and spoke quietly in her ear and petted her. She didn’t move other than her heavy breathing. Her eyes didn’t budge either. “It’s okay, girl,” I soothed.

Finally her tail gave a little twitch. Thank goodness.

*
  
*
  
*

That night, while I worked on memorizing lines, Dad came in and sat down.

“So what did the vet really say this morning?” I patted the floor and Twinkie ran to me as if nothing had happened.

“Where’s Breezy?” He glanced around.

“Upstairs, taking a bath.”

Dad took his coat off and hung it on the hook inside the door. “Because of her age, the vet is pretty certain it’s a brain tumor.”

I crouched down and hugged Twinkie close. My eyes got watery.

“He gave us stronger meds to keep the seizures at bay, but eventually they’ll increase until the meds don’t work.” He sat on the couch with a sigh.

“Then what?”

“We have a prescription of valium. Apparently a dose of it will shut down her nervous system enough to stop the seizures.”

“Can they make it go away? What if they’re wrong?”

“The vet says the tests to confirm the tumor would cost over a grand, and there’s nothing he could do about it anyway. Basically we just hope the tumor is slow growing, and she gets as much time as possible.”

My dad looked really sad; and that was something new for me. He was always the rock in the family and could handle anything. I moved next to him on the couch. I wanted to cry. “I don’t like to see her suffer.”

“Me either,” he said.

I put my head on his shoulder, and we watched Twinkie chew on her new peanut butter rawhide. My heart squeezed with emotion as I tried not to imagine life without her.

Monday morning after choir, I tried to corner Jilly. The day I told her I made the show, she’d moved to a seat two rows behind me, which seemed pretty grade school to me.

There was so much we needed to talk about, and, bottom line, I missed her. I didn’t want to lose her friendship. As Jilly put her music folder away, I rushed to intercept her outside the choir door.