Traveling Light (30 page)

*   *   *

An hour later Rick pulled into the driveway. Both women watched as he retrieved a small portable plastic dog crate from the passenger’s side of his truck and headed toward the small mammal ICU.

“Rick, this is my mom, Eleni Makaikis.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Makaikis. Rick Gunnersson.” He held out his hand to greet her.

Once inside he set the carrier down and with a gloved hand reached in to check the fox. Paula had never seen a live fox before.

“Can you get another heating pad and set it into the cage so I can move her in?” Rick directed Paula to a cabinet.

She placed the pad into the metal cage, smoothed it and then plugged it in. “What setting?”

“Low,” Rick said. “Cover it with a soft blanket, too.”

“She’s so petite.” Eleni used her fingers to illustrate her surprise. “I’ve never seen one alive.”

He shot Paula a glance.

“My mother’s worked for a furrier,” Paula explained.

“Oh, that’s right.” He snapped his fingers. “You told me.”

The fox stirred as they began to move her. Paula supported the animal’s head as Rick held her body, transferring her into the wire cage. Paula could smell his breath as he quietly filled her in on the details of the surgery and resulting care the fox would need in the next forty-eight hours. During the weeks he and Paula had worked closely together not once had she felt self-conscious, until the moment she felt Eleni’s eyes. Paula hoped her mother wasn’t getting the wrong impression.

“So is the fox sick?” Eleni stepped up as if to break the spell.

“She just had surgery,” Rick explained, pointing to the splint on the fox’s hind leg.

“Oh, I didn’t see the leg,” Eleni said.

“Darryl, the vet I work with, just pinned her back leg together. She’s still a bit groggy.”

“So who pays for all of this?” Eleni asked.

Rick shot her a
what do you care?
expression.

Paula’s eyes dropped to her boots. His expression was reminiscent of her first days on the job.

“I mean, I’m just curious,” Eleni softened her tone. She pulled the cardigan across her body and folded her arms.

“Well…” Rick’s gravelly voice lowered, pausing as if about to begin reading a bedtime story to a child. But first he folded a small fleecy cloth and rested it under the fox’s head before closing the wire gate. “Funds come in a variety of ways,” he answered.

*   *   *

Later that morning they started work in the raptor ICU, where Rick had just admitted a barred owl. The bird was brownish gray with brown and white bars across his chest and head. A newspaper reporter for the local
Cook County News Herald
had brought the bird in after he’d found him struggling to stand up in the middle of the road. The reporter had taken off his fleece jacket, wrapped the injured bird and called his office. They directed him to Rick.

Eleni watched as Rick unfolded the jacket and carefully lifted the barred owl. He was much smaller than the great horned.

“Hey, big guy,” Rick said as he looked the owl over.

The young reporter stood next to the table. “Does it look bad?” He crossed his arms and rubbed his chin. He shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“Don’t know yet.”

“It just happened, not twenty minutes ago,” the young man said, still shaken. “I saw the whole thing.”

“I’m Rick; this is Paula.”

She nodded at the introduction.

“Jason.”

“Hey, Jason, it’s good you came right over,” Rick said, and began to examine the bird.

The owl’s eyes were swollen shut. His shoulders bunched with pain. While the bird could stand, he didn’t move. Paula’s heart broke as she watched Rick work. As much as she wanted to take the owl into her arms, she knew it wouldn’t help.

“I’m guessing his skull’s fractured.” Rick handled him gently, as he tried to look into the bird’s eyes.

“Is that fixable?” Jason asked. “I mean, can he recover?”

Rick examined the bird’s eyes. “You’d be surprised how many do.” He made eye contact with Paula, pointing to a small cardboard box. She retrieved it, opened the flaps and set a flannel baby blanket on the bottom.

“Okay, fellow,” Rick said. “We’re taking you for some X-rays.”

Paula held the box level with the tabletop as he slowly lowered the owl. “There you go.” Rick looked up at the young man. “I’ll take him right over to get x-rayed; we’ll know more then.”

“Is it okay if I call?” the young man asked. “Find out how he’s doing?”

“Anytime,” Rick said. “We’re here. And if I’m not, you can talk to Paula.”

“Thanks.”

“Thank
you
for stopping.”

“Well, of course,” Jason said, looking perplexed. “Who wouldn’t?”

“The person who hit him.” Rick said.

“No, they didn’t.” The young man’s gaze dropped as he shook his head, closing his eyes. “I’m glad you guys are here,” he said, visibly moved as he walked toward the door.

“Tell you what.” Rick walked toward him, folding his arms. “How ’bout writing a story about your experience? Let people know we’re here, what we do.”

The reporter’s face brightened. “That’s a great idea. I’ll pitch my editor today.”

“Hey, Jason.” Rick handed him the fleece jacket he’d left on the examination table.

“Thanks,” Jason said, and turned to get one last look at the box on the way out.

Rick speed-dialed Darryl and they traded information.

“Good,” Rick said to Paula. The machine’s free. Be back soon,” Rick said to Paula, hurrying to enter notes on the laptop.

Eleni stepped over to the box and peeked in.

“So how does an owl get hit by a car?” Eleni asked in such a way as to blame the owl.

Rick stopped typing. He studied her for a few moments and then began explaining about how they swoop down to catch prey “sometimes so focused, they’re oblivious to oncoming traffic.”

“Thank you. I would have never known that,” Eleni said humbly. “So what would happen to these animals if you weren’t here?”

“Most would die.” Rick looked at her straight on.

Eleni held his gaze. “That would be very sad.”

“I think so.”

Eleni followed Paula for the rest of the morning. Rick pulled back into the driveway just as Paula was returning from the flight room. He rolled down the window. “His skull’s fractured.”

“So you guessed right. What now?”

“We tube-feed, load him up on pain meds, keep him quiet, hope for the best. It’s a hairline. He’s got a bad concussion. Time will tell if he’s got any long-term impairment.”

“He’s so sweet.” She thought of the owl’s face.

Rick looked over at Eleni. “You two ladies up for joining me for lunch at the house?”

“That would be nice,” Eleni said in a voice that made Paula’s head turn. Her eyebrows arched at her mother’s formality.

Rick checked his watch. “Let’s tube-feed this little guy, start the pain meds and get him comfortable.”

Paula moved into action.

“Can I come and watch?” Eleni asked.

“Sure.” Rick sounded surprised. “How’s the fox?”

“The same,” Paula said.

After the animals were settled, Paula and Eleni followed Rick up to the house. Eleni lagged behind as they headed up the incline, but she nudged Paula once she saw the house. Once inside, she bumped Paula’s arm again; her eyes practically bugged out of her head.

“Anything you two don’t eat?” Rick called from his kitchen, pulling open the double doors of a stainless refrigerator.

“Pichti,” Eleni offered as a challenge.

Rick looked to Paula.

“Pigs’ knuckles,” she translated.

“Well, Mrs. Makaikis, I hate to disappoint you, but there’s no danger of being force-fed
pichti
on the premises,” he said. Eleni laughed in such a genuine way it made Paula laugh, too.

“I like his humor,” Eleni said as if Rick weren’t there.

Paula spotted Sigmund teetering in the open door. “Oh shit,” she murmured, touching her forehead and averting her eyes. She cringed to think how Eleni would react once she saw the vulture. But before Paula could explain, her mother spotted Sigmund.

“And who might I ask is this?” Eleni slowly approached Sigmund, who turned his head to get a better look at her. Eleni bent slightly.

“That’s Sigmund,” Paula said.

“Oh no, he’s not.” Eleni shook her head. Paula and Rick glanced at each other. “Slap a handlebar mustache on that face and
boom.
” Eleni clapped her hands. “It’s Panagiotis from the village.”

They laughed in relief.

“Your great-uncle from Kos, Paula,” Eleni explained. “His face was all pitted like that.” She pointed to Sigmund’s head. “Bad acne—pizza puss, they’d call him. It drove him to America thinking Americans were kinder. But once he discovered they weren’t—
boom
—back to Greece. The weather’s nicer.”

She then launched into the story of how, later in life, Panagiotis would sit outside the
kafenio
(men’s saloon) playing cards, drinking ouzo and making passes at all the village women. For reasons Paula couldn’t ascertain, Eleni seemed funnier than she did in New York, hamming it up for Rick; and Rick’s face was alight, his smile crooked, as he listened, littering the counters with cheese, tomatoes and a loaf of uncut bread. His stove beeped after Rick pressed a button, and he seemed at a loss as to know how to turn it on. Paula squelched a laugh; he looked so awkward in the kitchen.

“But then all the men did that,” Eleni said. “My mother used to have to go looking for my father and then drag him home for supper.
Uch ooo,
men, you’re all alike.”

Rick looked up at her as she said it. “Mrs. Makaikis—”

“‘Eleni,’ please.”

“Eleni,” Rick corrected himself, “Sigmund here’s got a crush on your daughter.” Paula watched as Rick sliced into the loaf of bread and balanced slices of tomato and cheese on top of what she guessed would become grilled cheese.

“You see, Paula?” Eleni turned to Rick and laughed. “I’m always telling her how pretty she is, but she never believes me.”

Paula frowned in disbelief.

*   *   *

It was mid-morning on the day of Maggie’s Avon potluck when a lone car pulled into Rick’s driveway. As Paula and Eleni were heading toward the raptor room to feed the owl, Rick came bounding out of his house to greet the car. Out stepped a woman, a bit taller than Rick, blond and Scandinavian looking. As soon as she stepped out, they hugged. It was a couple’s hug, a lovers’ hug. Both Paula and Eleni averted their eyes. To watch felt intrusive. But Paula noticed how the couple walked woven together toward the house, nuzzling, talking in low voices.

Paula began to ready mice for the great horned owl as Eleni watched. Neither had spoken, the scene outside having silenced them both. Paula let two live mice into the owl’s cage and turned away. She hated this part of the job; each time she rushed with horror, never getting used to releasing the happy-go-lucky creatures to a certain death.

“That’s it,” she said. “Let’s get the hell out of here,” and she headed toward the mammal room and the fox.

“Wait,” Eleni said. “I wanna watch how she eats it.”

“It’s revolting, Mom,” Paula protested. “Come on; the fox is hungry.”

“It’s nature,” Eleni said.

“So what? Doesn’t mean I have to watch,” Paula said, and shuddered.

Eleni turned to her with curiosity. “Why are you like this, Paula
mou
?” she asked in a tone of voice Paula’d never heard. “Everything has to eat,” Eleni said, as if Paula were a child.

Paula flinched as the enormous owl attacked the mouse and gathered it into her mouth. The tail hung down her face as the bird slowly swallowed. Paula hurried out. Eleni shook her head, chuckling at her daughter as she threw up her hands. “
Uch ooo,
you’re such a city girl.”

In the mammal room, Paula cut up shards of chicken that Rick had left in the refrigerator and placed them in with the fox.

“What’s the difference between the mouse and this? One has a face? This did, too, you know.”

“Ma, stop.”

“People in the village could never stand it when someone slaughtered a lamb. ‘It’s barbaric; it’s brutal,’ they’d say.
Uch ooo,
they’d cover their ears, horrified, but watch them push you out of the way to grab a hunk of that roasted lamb.” She brushed her hands together. “I’ve always thought that if you can’t stand to watch something slaughtered, then you’ve got no right to eat it.”

“All right,” Paula said.
Fair enough.
“No more about eating animals, okay?”

They were quiet for a few moments as they watched the fox nosing the pieces of chicken.

“Aw, such an expressive little face she has.” Eleni reached to touch the wire cage. The fox looked at her. Both women calmed as they watched the fox eat.

“So Ma, when you look at her do you see a coat?”

“Now
you
stop it,” Eleni said, and hit Paula’s arm, laughing.

“Just kidding,” Paula said. It was half-true. “But if you get bored or tired I can always drive you back to the house to watch TV or something.”

“Why?” Eleni turned toward her with those piercing eyes. “You want to get rid of me?”

“No, of course not,” Paula said. “I’m just saying.”

Eleni studied her with a critical eye.

“I swear,” Paula said, laughing. The longer Eleni stared, the harder Paula laughed.

“We never get time to talk,” Eleni said. “Besides, I love watching you with the animals. It’s fun.”

Fun?
Another word she’d never heard from her mother.

Rick had left Paula a note on the message board to move a deer carcass into the center floor of the flight room.

But first, Paula took out her eagle, carrying him down the hall. “Time for physical therapy, Aetos Dios.” She set the bird down and in one motion he swooped up to the top perch.

“Wow!” she heard Eleni exclaim through the screen in the hallway.

As he landed, he turned, looking down to regard Paula. “Eisai palikari mou,” she said.

Eleni agreed. “Alithos palikari.”

“God, I hope Rick shows up soon to help with the deer,” Paula said.