Mercy (4 page)

S
unny had been puzzled but delighted when Haley had taken her leash down for a second time. Now she trotted happily alongside as Haley walked her bike down the sidewalk. But when they reached East Park, the dog stopped. The tiny playground was deserted now; empty swings rocked a little in the wind that had sprung up when the sun set. A rusty bolt chirped like a cicada, stranded in the wrong season.

When Haley tugged gently at the leash, Sunny braced her feet and whined.

“I know,” Haley told her. “You don't understand. But it's different now.” The wind was cold, a warning of winter; it stung tears from the corners of Haley's eyes. “Come on.” She pulled at the leash again, and Sunny followed obediently. But at each corner, when Haley paused to let traffic go by, the dog looked back.

When they reached Haley's house, the kitchen windows were lit, warm yellow squares against the dark brick walls. You'd need a tripod to capture it, Haley thought. A handheld camera wouldn't stay still long enough to keep the focus sharp. It looked
cozy and safe. In a photograph, it would say: home at the end of a long day. Comfort and peace.

Everybody thought photographs always told the truth. But a picture could be very deceiving.

Haley leaned her bike against the porch steps and led Sunny, her tail waving happily and her nose investigating every corner, up to the kitchen door. Haley pulled Sunny close and turned the knob.

Noise. That was the first thing that hit her. After the silence of the cemetery and the peace of Jake's apartment, it was like a slap, painful and shocking, no matter how much Haley had tried to brace herself for it. Elaine had given Eddie a big metal pot to play with, and he was whacking the bottom of it with both hands and shrieking happily. The radio was on loud, so Elaine could hear the news. Twelve people killed by a car bomb in Baghdad. Someone weeping. Sunny crowded nervously against Haley's leg.

“Haley, honey!” Elaine shouted. She was stirring a vat of spaghetti sauce on the stove. “Thank goodness! You can set the table. Your dad's going to be here any minute now and—what's that?”

Haley shut the door and dropped Sunny's leash as she stepped forward to block Eddie, who'd abandoned the pot and was making straight for the dog, both arms straight in front of him, fingers outstretched to grab. “It's Sunny,” she said loudly as Eddie ran into her legs. Gunfire rattled from the radio. Haley raised her voice even more. “Jake asked me—”

Eddie tried to maneuver around the obstacle of his big sister. Haley grabbed his hands. Sunny gave a nervous little yelp.

“I
know
it's—” Stirring with one hand, Elaine reached over and switched off the radio with the other. “I know it's Sunny,” she repeated. “What is Sunny doing
here
?”

“Jake asked me to—” Haley had to pick Eddie up and he yelled and kicked. Sunny, her leash trailing, made a dash for what looked like safety under the kitchen table. “To take her,” Haley finished, grabbing Eddie more firmly around the waist. A determined two-year-old was harder to hold on to than a sack of angry cats. “He said he—ow! Eddie,
stop
!” For such a little kid, Eddie had quite a punch.

“Oh, here, give him to me.” Elaine, tucking strands of her bright, coppery hair behind her ears, came over to take the struggling toddler. “Jake wanted you to take the dog? And you just—took her? Haley, why didn't you check with me or your dad?”

“I thought it would be okay.” Eddie was really roaring now, arching his body back in Elaine's arms, his face growing red.

“Haley!” Elaine sounded mad too. “You can't just decide to bring a dog home. We don't even know if she'll be safe with Eddie.”

“She's a good dog. She's
Jake's
dog!”

Haley stopped, appalled at the sound of her own voice. She sounded about five years old.

Elaine had heard too. She shifted Eddie to one arm and reached out a hand as if to put it on Haley's shoulder.

“Honey. I understand. But you have to think—”

“Fine,” Haley interrupted, stepping back to avoid Elaine's hand. “We'll just drag her off to a shelter or something. Jake can't take care of her anymore, so we'll just put her to sleep. Then you'll be happy.” As usual, the anger was helping. It patched up the crack in her voice, steadied her lips so they didn't tremble.

“Haley, that's not—” There was a frothing splash as the water boiled over on the stove. “Oh, just take her out of here! Take her up to your room for now. Then we'll talk.”

Haley snatched up Sunny's leash. The dog was more than happy to be led out of the kitchen. Haley shut the door on Eddie's wails and Elaine's soothing voice.

Upstairs, she slid down to sit on the floor by her bed and hugged Sunny against her. The dog flopped down with her head in Haley's lap. Haley tugged at her ears, but Sunny didn't make the happy mooing noise she did when Jake petted her.

Haley knew she'd been unfair to Elaine. She didn't care. Jake wasn't Elaine's relative, after all. She hadn't even met him until she'd married Haley's dad three years ago.

Then a year after that there had been Eddie.

Nobody had asked Haley if she wanted a little brother. Wanted her sleep interrupted by crying, night after night. Wanted toys scattered all over her house and diapers stinking up the trash. Wanted every day to be scheduled around feeding Eddie and changing Eddie and getting Eddie to bed.

Of course, nobody had asked her if she wanted her parents to get divorced, either. Or her mom to move to New York. Or if she wanted a stepmother. Certainly nobody had asked her if she wanted her cousin to die.

Sunny pulled away from Haley's hands, shook herself so that the tags on her collar rattled, and went on a tour of inspection. She stuck her nose under piles of dirty clothes on the floor, checked out the bottom shelf of the bookcase, nudged a shabby teddy bear that leaned against a thick pile of photography books, and rooted under Haley's desk, where a snake's nest of dusty cables connected her computer and printer. Then Sunny pushed open the door to the closet, squeezed in, turned around twice, and flopped down on a pile of Haley's shoes.

The door to Haley's room swung open at the same time somebody tapped on it gently.

What's the point of knocking if you're going to open it anyway?
Haley demanded silently. But she didn't say it, looking up at her
father, leaning in the doorway. She was probably in enough trouble already.

Her dad came in and sat on the bed. “Where's Sunny?” he asked after a few moments.

Haley nodded at the closet. He leaned forward to peer inside.

“Ah. Well, if I were a dog in this house, I'd probably be looking for a safe place to hide too. You really should have asked first, Haley.”

It was just a dog, after all. It was
Jake's
dog. It wasn't a slavering hellhound.

“I thought it would be fine,” Haley said tightly. This time her voice didn't break.

“Hey. It's not that we don't
want
to keep her. If Jake asked—”

Haley, sitting on the floor, couldn't see her dad's face. But she could hear him stop and clear his throat. Haley felt her anger slip perilously. If her dad was nice to her now . . .

“Listen. We'll try it out. You'll have to help Eddie get used to Sunny. And if there's a problem—if it doesn't work, we'll find another home for her. Nobody's talking about taking Jake's dog to a shelter. All right?”

Haley stared fiercely at the doorknob on the closet door. If she blinked, she'd cry. She nodded. Once.

“Okay then. Dinner in five minutes. I expect you to apologize to Elaine when you come down.”

That was it? That was all the trouble she was in for yelling at her stepmother and bringing a dog home without permission?

“And set the table. Every night. Until you go to college.”

That was her job anyway. Haley looked up and managed a quick smile. Her dad put a heavy hand on her head and messed up her hair. His skin smelled of clay, dry and earthy and dusty.

“
Dad
. Now I'm going to have to comb it.”

“Horrors. How's Jake doing?”

“Okay. Fine.”

Her dad sighed. “Come on down to dinner, then. You better leave Sunny up here. What about
her
dinner? Did you get her food and stuff from Jake?”

“Um—”

“You didn't?”

“I brought her leash.” Haley knew it sounded stupid. She hadn't even thought about Sunny's food, her bowls, the ratty plaid blanket she slept on.

“Never mind. We'll go to the pet store later. Get a few things.”

He left. Haley brushed her hair. It was cut short, easy to take care of, and the dark red color sometimes made people think Elaine was her real mom. When she'd been younger—before Eddie was born—she'd kind of liked that. Now it irritated her.

Finished with her hair, she knelt down in front of the closet to give Sunny a hug. A warm, wet tongue swiped across her face.

“It'll be fine here,” she whispered. “You'll see.”

After dinner Haley brought Sunny downstairs. She knelt with one arm around the dog while her dad set Eddie down nearby. Elaine watched suspiciously.

Haley's dad caught Eddie when the little boy would have run at the dog. “Soft, Eddie,” he cautioned sternly. “Be soft.” He held Eddie's hand and stroked it gently down Sunny's flank. Sunny swiped her tail back and forth and sat panting with an air of bewilderment and cheerfulness. “Like that, Eddie, see?
Soft
.”
Her dad let go of the boy's hand and hovered over him, ready to snatch him back if necessary.

But Eddie didn't grab at Sunny's ears or poke at her eyes. He touched the soft golden fur of her side gently and then buried his hands in it up to his chubby wrists. Sunny turned her head to slather his hands with urgent licks. Eddie looked startled and then crowed with laughter. When he shrieked, Sunny jumped, but then transferred her attentions to his face, still sticky with the remains of tomato sauce from dinner.

Haley relaxed. “See? It's fine. She's fine.”

Elaine came forward and bent down to pull Eddie away from his face bath. “That can't exactly be sanitary.” But she was smiling.

The kid eats dirt
, Haley wanted to say.
You think a few dog licks are going to matter?

But instead she said, “Sorry.” And it came out sounding all right. Not forced. Like she actually was.

“Oh, Haley, honey.” Elaine smiled. “It's okay. It's fine.”

Sunny, finding herself surrounded by faces at her level, distributed friendly licks all around. When Eddie grabbed at her tail she simply turned around to free herself and flopped down beside him. Eddie stamped his feet with happiness and petted her all over.

“Good girl, good girl.” Elaine reached out to ruffle Sunny's ears. “She
is
gentle. What a sweetie.”

Told you
, Haley thought.

“Well, that's enough for her first night, I think.” Haley's dad swept Eddie up, away from his fabulous moving, breathing, furry new toy. “Come on, little monster. Book? Story?”

“Down, down!” Eddie insisted.

“No down. Haley, take Sunny upstairs again. Let's do this gradually.”

“Down down
down
!” Eddie bellowed. Elaine sighed. Haley gladly dragged Sunny upstairs and shut the door of her room on the noise. Sunny headed for the closet again. Haley took out her camera. Hooking it up to her laptop, she transferred the photos over and tapped the touchpad to move from one to the next, trying to make up her mind which to print out.

There, the close-up of Mercy's headstone. She zoomed in even closer, so that the letters, their edges softened by time and weather, filled the screen. She could almost make it an abstract, but the last sentence of the epitaph, down in the right-hand corner, still announced what it was—a life cut short.