Horse Heaven (57 page)

For a dog whose ancestors were grasped by their tails and dropped into fox burrows, sometimes collapsing fox burrows deep underground, time in a kennel was no hardship, and was even a respite from having to maintain control over household events all day and all night, but it was the principle of
being
kenneled that offended Eileen, which was why, after some particular enormities of this sort (where was Rosalind, anyway?), she took the opportunity presented by Alexander P. Maybrick’s open closet door, and went in and defecated and urinated upon some of his shoes. The ones most strongly carrying his
scent were to be preferred, for a statement was required, and, as a Jack Russell terrier, Eileen never shrank from making a statement. Eileen finished with the shoes and went out of the closet. But then she bethought herself and went back in. The corner of Alexander P. Maybrick’s bathrobe was dangling on the floor. Eileen took the opportunity to continue her statement, and give it one last little flourish. Then she left the bedroom and went into the kitchen, where, as luck would have it, the door to the outside had been left slightly ajar. She pushed it open and went out.

The day was only beginning, and Eileen was full of energy. The first thing she did was to make her daily attempt to solve the conundrum of the mole. There was a burrow at the back of the yard with four entrances. A mole, Eileen knew, went in and out of this burrow all day long, all night long. He had four ways in, four ways out. When he moved around inside that burrow, as he often did, Eileen could hear him mocking her, but she couldn’t figure out how to foil him. Birds on branches, she often could and had come down upon and killed. Rats, mice—no problem. But that mole. With regard to the mole, Eileen felt her lack of another Jack Russell companion and teammate very keenly. The mole problem would not admit of a solution by a single Jack Russell. It was all very well to scrape dirt into the entrances or to try to dig up the whole burrow, but both courses had proved futile. All she could do in the end was to attend to and appreciate the scratchings and scrapings of the mole within and hope that something would happen that would afford her an opportunity. Which was just what she was doing when the longest of the black vehicles rolled around the driveway and disgorged the beloved Rosalind right before her eyes. Eileen ran up to her screaming, and Rosalind laughed, bent down, and picked her up.

“Oh, my darling little one!” she exclaimed. “How are you? Were you good while I was in Singapore? I’m so sorry I couldn’t take you! And I was gone a whole two weeks!” She held Eileen against her chest and nuzzled her face, then stroked her ears. This was wonderful treatment, and convinced Eileen that she was the preferred one after all. In the end, of course, it was the uncertainty that hurt. Had she been sure once and for all either way, up or down, she might not have been forced to act against Al as she did, but when he was up she had to put him down, and when he was down she had to make sure he knew it.

Rosalind carried Eileen into the house. She spoke to that woman, Delilah, who was always around, but whom Eileen considered unworthy of her attention, mostly because she knew that Delilah considered her—Eileen!—unworthy of attention. That woman, Delilah, said, “Mr. Maybrick has gone to Moscow for three weeks, ma’am, on sudden business.”

“Oh. Yes. Well,” said Rosalind. Then she carried Eileen into the bedroom
and set her on the bed. Eileen jumped down immediately. Rosalind sat down on the bed. She said, “No, Eileen, come here, sweetheart.” Eileen did so. Rosalind picked her up again and fondled her face and ears again. Eileen licked Rosalind on the chin, then struggled politely, just to show Rosalind that, though she was extremely happy to see her, the day was advancing and there was much to be done. But Rosalind didn’t let go. She kicked off her shoes and lay back on the bed, with Eileen in the crook of her arm, so that Eileen’s back leg was cocked under the weight of Rosalind’s body. Eileen struggled again, this time more assertively, and finally she broke away and jumped off the bed. As it happened, just then a squirrel ran by outside the French doors, and so Eileen had to race to the door and bark vigorously and put her feet up on the glass and then, when the squirrel paused and sat up a few feet from her and made those squirrel faces that they were always making if they dared, Eileen had to leap into the air against the door an uncountable number of times (Eileen could count to five, so she probably leapt six or seven times). By now she was yodeling at the top of her lungs, because you never knew how clearly those outside could hear you if you were inside. This was also a signal to Rosalind to do the right thing and let her out, but Rosalind only lay on the bed quietly and said in a low voice, “It’s all right, Eileen. Settle down.” Eileen, of course, settled down, because that low voice was suspicious and worrisome, so she gave up on the squirrel and jumped back up onto the bed and licked Rosalind on the face. Rosalind didn’t respond, so Eileen licked her right in the mouth, which, in her experience, always stirred them up pretty good, but Rosalind only pushed Eileen’s head away, and gently, too. No spitting, no gagging.

Now Eileen rocked back on her haunches and regarded Rosalind. Rosalind wasn’t sleeping, or getting ready to sleep. Her eyes were open and her body was not relaxed, and the breaths she was taking were not even, relaxed sleep breaths, the sort that meant that Eileen could crawl under the covers and press up against Rosalind’s warm belly, something she had missed over the last few weeks. The fact was, Eileen did not know what was going on. She regarded Rosalind for another moment or two, then she felt the urge to bark at her, but she could not, so she spun a few circles. All that happened was that Rosalind’s hand went up and came down on Eileen’s back. A minute or two later, that unworthy human came shuffling in and said, “You all right, Mrs. Maybrick? Can I get you anything?”

Rosalind sat up suddenly, and Eileen jumped off the bed. The Unworthy One said, “Hush, you mutt!” but Eileen kept barking full-bore until she heard Rosalind say, “I’m just tired. It’s okay, Delilah. I’m okay.” She stood up.

The Unworthy One said, “I’ll bring you a cup of tea, Mrs. Maybrick.”

“Thank you, Delilah.”

Eileen went out of the room and into the kitchen for a drink of water. She sat alertly at the feet of the Unworthy One while the woman made the tea, and listened to the woman mutter, “She didn’t know that he was going away, you can count on that, my friend. Absolutely! Things are going on around here, my friend, just ask Delilah. I’ve seen it. Just ask me!” Then she followed the woman back to the bedroom. Rosalind was now wearing different clothes, and boots. She said, much more perkily, Eileen thought, “Well, I can’t sleep. Delilah, would you have John bring the Mercedes around in ten minutes? I’ll drive it myself.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

And then, in no time, they were enthroned there in the Mercedes, with Rosalind driving and Eileen lying on her back beside her, having her belly scratched up and down, down and up, with the sky passing above them through the windshield. Start, stop, this way, that way. This, Eileen thought, was a whole lot better than the kennel, and if Rosalind planned to do this forever and ever without end, Eileen was for it.

After a long time, Eileen woke up from a doze to catch sight of Rosalind handing something out the open window, and to hear her say, “Thank you, Harvey,” and then they turned and stopped, and Rosalind looked down at her and said, “Here we are.” Eileen knew perfectly well where they were. The diverse and delicious perfumes of the place were unmistakable. They were at the racetrack.

Rosalind opened her door and Eileen was out there. Rosalind paused to put on her coat, and Eileen got pretty far away from her before she realized that she had lost her head, and paused to wait. No, she ran back. Running was better than waiting. And leaping in the air was better than running. She heard Rosalind laugh, ha ha ha, so she leapt in the air again.

But they went to the usual place after all. Eileen had been all over the backside of the racetrack. In her experience, there wasn’t a more interesting place in the world than the backside of a racetrack. Racetrack vermin were fat and had self-confidence. They tended to preen themselves and to not take Eileen quite as seriously as she knew she deserved to be taken. Also, in Eileen’s experience, just being a Jack Russell terrier was a bonus at the racetrack. You never got petted and made much of and admired quite so much anywhere in the world as you did at the racetrack if you were a Jack Russell terrier. All in all, it was a heavenly place for Eileen, but the good stuff was not where they usually
went. Dick Dick Dick, which was what Eileen called the guy, because that’s what Rosalind had called him when she and Eileen were first with him, kept no animals except horses, not even cats.

Rosalind opened the door to Dick Dick Dick’s office, and he looked up and said, “Oh, hi!”

Rosalind said, “I just got back from Singapore.”

“Really! How was it?”

“It was fine. I’m opening a gallery now. It was Al’s idea. I’ve been working on it since the summer, really.”

“Where is it?”

“Madison and Seventy-fourth.”

“Hmm.”

“Good location.”

“I’m sure it will do great.”

“Art is the only thing I like anymore.”

Eileen noticed that the door was ajar and went out. She stopped and surveyed the premises. There were several delicious fragrances that mingled on the air, and she did not want to decide too quickly which one to follow up. Yes, it was true that when she was with Dick Dick Dick, Rosalind gave Eileen more free time. But “more” was relative. The backside of the track was a big place, and only if she were to have days at a time would she be able to explore it to her heart’s content. And now she heard, “Eileen, come!” So she turned and went back into the little room, just in time to hear Dick Dick Dick say, “Yes, I’m living out in Queens now, not far from the track. It’s just temporary.”

“I can’t believe you told her. It was over.”

“She was asking for it.”

“Oh, Dick.”

“I don’t mean that the way it sounds. I mean it literally. She was asking for me to go one way or another instead of everlastingly refusing to make up my mind, and I did. Telling her about you was the only thing that could have broken the deadlock.”

In Eileen’s opinion, Dick Dick Dick still had that manner so irritating to a Jack Russell terrier of not knowing quite what to do. Eileen always knew what to do, and knew it with utter conviction, even if it was the wrong thing to do. The door was still ajar, and Rosalind was staring fixedly at Dick Dick Dick, so Eileen went out again, and this time she raced full-tilt down the shedrow so as to be out of range when Rosalind came to her senses and called her again.

Ah ah ah ah! What joy! Horses’ heads popped out over their stall guards as she passed. Horses, Eileen knew, were generally contemptuous of dogs. Horses in general, Eileen had noticed, held a very high opinion of themselves, and
looked only to each other for approval and instruction. Jack Russells were like that, too, not like other dogs, who seemed to be willing to take humans as real top dogs instead of “as if” top dogs, which is what Eileen did. Perhaps this shared humoring of humans was why horses and Jack Russell terriers admired one another. Eileen veered off to the right, came out of the barn, leapt onto the manure pile, and rolled around on it in ecstasy, then took a little digging practice, and after a few moments’ effort, nosed her way into the hole she had made and rubbed around in its warm, pungent dimness. Then she backed out of the manure pile, fully enrobed in its delicousness, and ran up to the top to survey the area. Crows had landed not far off that needed barking at and chasing, and so she ran down the side of the pile and gave them exactly what they required. They flew away. Another in a long line of victories against crows, who were forever trying to settle to earth, it looked like, and forever having to be launched. Then she turned to head back to the manure pile, and she ran into the booted legs of someone, who picked her up. She looked into the person’s face (she was so pungent herself now that she had to consult visual signals to understand if she knew this person, and she did). “I found you,” said the person, a woman. “Come on. They’re looking for you.”

And so they dragged her back to the domain of Dick Dick Dick, and then what did they do but put her in a sink and give her a bath and wrap her up in a towel and rub her down, laughing all the time, and then they handed her back to Rosalind, who was with Dick Dick Dick looking at one of the horses, who was standing in a line with some other horses. Eileen struggled in Rosalind’s arms, and she heard Rosalind say, “Just a minute,” and then what should happen but Rosalind reached into her pocket and pulled out a leash and snapped it on Eileen with no ceremony at all.

She sat down at Rosalind’s and Dick Dick Dick’s feet and surveyed the hooves of the animal in front of her. They were big. One was white. All four of them seemed firmly set upon the ground, but that could change at any moment, Eileen knew. Horses had a sparkle about them, especially about their feet, that was not bigness, since people did not have this sparkle about them, nor did very big dogs. When the sparkle changed, Eileen moved. It was a convenient way to avoid trouble. Dick Dick Dick bent down now and put his hand on the horse’s leg, smoothing it downward, pausing here, going on, pausing here, going on. Then he did the same to the other leg. Then he stood up and threw one of the women on top of the horse. Then he said to Rosalind, “You should watch a few gallop, since you’re here.” They turned and followed the horses down the aisle. Eileen trotted between them.

Babble babble babble. The amount of babble streaming through the air between two humans at any given moment was a source of constant annoyance
to Eileen. Sitting, babbling, standing, babbling, walking along, babbling, lying in bed, babbling, eating, the most sacred time of the day, babbling. And then they were offended by the purposeful sound of real barking. Yes, the leash always put her in a bad, dim mood. Rosalind dragged her forward. Eileen did not like to be dragged forward. She left the Dumpster behind, followed them across some grass, and then they were on that platform with some other men. Rosalind and Eileen were the only females. Eileen went over to a post in the corner, at the end of her leash, and lifted her leg on it. Rosalind exclaimed, “Oh, Eileen! Not here!”