Beyond and Within

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"Denton, it's time to go home now."

"Hmm -- what?"

"It's time we went home. Now. You need to get some sleep. We can deal with all the rest in the morning."

"Oh, yeah. Nothing to be done now, is there?"

"That's right, we can tackle it all in the morning, make all the calls. Come on, Honey. Up-you-go." She pulled him upright and put an arm around his waist and forcibly led him out into the night. Moving from the heated lobby into the cool air of another autumn dawn she felt him stiffen, then shake his head. He stopped walking and looked around, then turned and looked at the policewoman by his side.

"You know, I hate to seem forward right about now, but I don't even know your name."

For some reason they both found the idea hilarious. He looked at the woman for a moment and then they both started laughing. And they laughed all the way to his car, oblivious to the stares of early morning visitors arriving at the hospital.

After she drove inside the garage she went around and helped him out of the car, and in that moment -- in their just coming together -- a gentle need came for them both.

+++++

King was sailing now, alone and with his eyes closed, feeling the direction of the wind and the spray on his upturned face, contours of the seafloor through subtle variations in the little boat's motion. From time to time he opened his eyes to the music of the night sky, followed a star as it left the rim of the known and climbed the ladder of the night, then another, and another. When at last the great star lightened the far rim he smiled and sat for a while, drank some water and ate some fruit, and he even slept before resuming his journey.

When the great star was high overhead on the seventh day he stopped and looked at the color of the water, then his eyes swept the horizon for the sign -- but when all he saw was hollow nothingness he frowned and sat in the hollowed hull. He ate another piece of fruit and savored the taste of faraway land, then he closed his eyes and waited for sleep.

The dream came again, the dream that made no sense. Chaos and screams, tumbling water and pointless death -- all within fragmented images that made no sense to him.

He woke with a start, saw the great star now close to the far rim, the coming of darkness not far now. He stood and scanned the horizon again, saw her plume and smiled.

She was old now, almost ancient, and she moved with the fullness of age -- and she was moving away from him.

He knelt and pounded on the side of the boat several times, then stood and saw she was coming for him now. He watched for a moment then began paddling her way, and just as the great star met the rim they came to one another -- she to him first, as always -- and his spirit soared when he met her eyes.

The first time he met her his father's father had been there, and the old man had shown him the hidden ways to this place. The old man had slipped into the water and caressed his friend's face, then his father had, too. After a time they invited him into the water and his ancestors had introduced her to their future, and then they had left him with her. She swam and he held on, and when she dove he listened to the infinite within her beating heart, and once, when he thought she went too deep he learned the truest meaning of trust. Once, in a place that looked like a field of stars she showed him the fires of creation and he knew after that whoever this creature was he loved her as much as his fathers ever had.

Now he gathered bones and ash from his wife's pyre and joined his friend in the sea. They watched as he let her earthly remains go -- and as his wife settled toward the sand so far below they sang a song of life together, and they sang with the stars.

+++++

He had two small urns when he left the funeral home, and when he got home he wondered what you did with dead people in jars. Put them on the mantle, perhaps? Or over on the Steinway that had been his wife's pride and joy. Or...why not in a shoebox? In his wife's closet? Or his daughter's? He was numb, all the more so as no one he was close to had died before.

Many of his friends from work had come to the service, and of course Sharon's family was there. His father was, of course, somewhere over there, doing whatever it was he thought he did, and that was that -- though his mother came. Later that day he called an estate agent and made arrangements to get rid of all their belongings, then he called a realtor and made arrangements to list the house. He packed a suitcase and put the thing in his car, then went back inside for the urns. He looked at them for a while, not quite knowing what to do with them but resisting the urge to leave them where they sat -- and run from them as fast as he could.

In the end he put the two urns in a box and wrapped them in hand towels, and then he carried them out to the car -- and he stopped and looked up, thought he heard singing...

"There, on the wind...I know that voice, that song..."

"Sassy!"

He stopped, looked at his next door neighbor.

"Sassy! Where are you?"

His neighbor turned and looked at him, started jogging his way.

"Denton, have you seen Sassy?"

"No, Bruce, I sure haven't."

"She's pregnant, due to give birth today and now she's bolted. Bet she's holed up under a bush somewhere."

"Need a hand?"

"You bet."

"Okay, let me put Sharon and Jenn in the car."

His neighbor, his friend, looked at the urns in the box: "What?"

He pointed at the two urns and scowled. "There they are. My family."

"Jesus, Denny. I, uh, well...Jesus..."

"Yeah. I don't know what to say either." They looked around the front of their houses, then he looked up at the sky again. "It's getting dark...I'll get a flashlight," but he still heard music on a dying breeze. He shook his head, popped the garage door opener and came back with two big Mag-Lites. "I have an idea," he said as he handed a light to his neighbor. "Follow me."

They went around the side of his house and into his back yard, and he led them to a thick hedge-row that lined the back of his property, a thick bramble just this side of a tall, wooden fence.

He stopped about five feet from the first clump of bushes and held up a hand.

"I hear it," he said, yet the singing only seemed more insistent now.

"Hear what?"

"A bunch of pups."

He had been feeding Sassy doggie treats for years, and on his days off the little Springer had been known to come to his yard and jump in the swimming pool when he was in the water, so he had a pretty good relationship with the old girl -- enough to know where she might be, anyway.

He got down on the thick St Augustine grass and crawled to the edge and looked between two thick clumps -- and there she was, licking the placenta from a squirming bundle of life.

"Howya doin', girl?" he asked in quiet, even tones, and Sassy looked up, startled -- but more than a little relieved.

He crawled into the bushes and looked at the scene: two pups out already and squirming in the undergrowth, and another just coming out the chute.

"Bruce, we're gonna need some towels, maybe some warm water to wash off these guys. I can see two out already and another's on the way."

"Right..."

He heard his neighbor taking off as he crawled deeper into the undergrowth, and then...

"Oh-sweet-Jesus..."

He saw another pup just then, this one impossibly small, pushed away from the others -- like it had been discarded. Hadn't he read somewhere that mothers often pushed 'the runt' away? This one couldn't have been three inches long and already it was shivering...glistening wet with placental fluid and cold as hell.

He scooped the little creature up in a cupped hand, felt it respond to his touch as he backed out of the bramble, and after he stood he took off for his kitchen -- leaving his flashlight to mark the position.

"What's wrong?" Bruce shouted.

"Got one in distress," he said as he ran through his open garage door and into the house

"Now...where does Sharon keep that humidifier? And her heating pad...?" He took off for their bathroom and started rummaging through her things, knowing she would understand why he'd just made such a mess...then it hit him.

She'd never care again.

But this little pup needed him. Now.

Now. Right now -- and then suddenly, just when that little creature became the most important thing in his life, the singing stopped.

Within minutes he had Sharon's heating pad set up inside a little plastic crate. He folded washcloths over the pad and made a tent over the top of the crate, filled the humidifier and set it to make a warm mist -- venting inside the little tent-crate -- then he ran back out to help Bruce.

"Oh, thank goodness you're back! I can't get down on my knees yet -- the hip replacement, remember?"

"Oh. Right." He dove for the undergrowth and started handing pups up to Bruce, and after he had the situation in hand he coaxed Sassy out of the bushes -- just as another pup's head crowned.

She looked frantic as she turned and looked at him, and he helped her to the ground again just as another little contraction hit. He watched the girl's muscles pulse, watched the glistening head appear, then the shoulders...

"It's alright, Sassy-girl," he said, stroking the bridge of her nose -- just the way she always liked him to. "Just a little more and I've got her."

The next pup slid out of girl's vulva and into his waiting hands, and he peeled open the placental sac and massaged the pup's back and stomach until it coughed and took a breath, then he held out the cord and let Sassy nip the pup free just as a red mass of afterbirth slid out of her vagina -- only he saw yet another head crowning...

"Jesus, Sassy, you sure have been sleeping around. How many is this now, Bruce?"

"With the one you have inside, this is number six," Bruce said, holding the latest up to the flashlight. "Another Girl. Odd..."

"Number seven is in the chute. Odd? Why odd?"

"All girls so far. What was the one you took?"

"No idea. Didn't get that far."

He heard someone else walking up, saw Ellen Green, the policewoman -- still with her ever-present rookie in-tow.

"What's going...oh-my-God..." she managed to say as she got her flashlight trained on Sassy's vulva.

"Come on, girl," King sighed. "One more time. This has got to be it..."

"There's usually one more about an hour after you think they're done," Ellen said.

"Swell. I need to go check on that little one."

"I think I've got it for now," Bruce sighed. "Thanks, Denton. I mean it."

"Not a problem. I've got the little one in a makeshift tent on a heating pad and with a humidifier running..."

"A runt?" Ellen asked.

"Yup...think so."

"Can I see?" she added.

"Come on."

She turned to her rookie. "Stay here with this man. See if you can help without fucking things up, alright?" She turned and followed King through the garage. "You leavin'?"

"I am."

"Where you headed?"

"I have no fucking idea."

"Quit your job?"

"Not yet, but I'm leaning that way."

"Not happy flying anymore?" she asked as they walked through the house.

He stopped. "No, that's not it."

"The nightmares?"

"Yeah, I guess," he said as he resumed walking to his bathroom.

"Wow," Green said when she caught sight of King's makeshift incubator. "You better take a patent out on this thing. Denton, this is amazing."

"If I haven't cooked the pup, you mean." He pulled open the tent and peered down into the mist, Green looking over his shoulders.

"Damn, looks like she's in good shape. What did you do?"

"Rinsed her in warm water...trimmed the umbilical cord back some. Then made this tent."

"You better pick her up, stimulate her a little."

He took a deep breath and reached down, picked up the little thing. "The eyes seem so prominent...and geesh...her ribs feel almost, well, transparent is the only word that comes to mind."

"She's fragile, probably always will be. Most breeders just put these things down."

"Over my dead fucking body," he growled.

She looked at him, at the ferocity -- and the love -- in his eyes. "Have a name for her yet?"

"Jenn."

"Nice," Green said, understanding all too well what had happened. "She'll need to start nursing soon."

"How soon?"

"As soon as you can get her over to her mom."

"She pushed her away. Tried to kill her."

"That's nature's way, Dennie. The mother only has so much milk, and she only puts it out for so long. Strong instinct...she doesn't want to waste a precious resource."

"God, look at her. She's precious."

"Her head has a good shape, big brain pan. She might be a real smart one."

"You been around dogs?"

"My dad raised Setters. I probably helped with a dozen litters growing up."

"What should I do next?"

"Make sure she's dry, keep her warm, take her over to her mother. These first few hours are critical feedings."

He grabbed a bunch of microfiber towels and wrapped up the pup, then he marched over to Bruce's place and walked right-in through the sliding glass door off the kitchen. "Bruce! Where are you!"

"In the laundry room!"

He followed the sound of the voice, found Sassy curled up on a bunch of towels with six pups nursing on the floor, then he presented the runt to her, let her sniff the tiny creature a few times -- and she looked up at him like he was mad, then she let him put the tiny thing on a nipple.

He looked up a minute or so later and saw Green standing there, looking down at the pups and once he saw the runt was taking to the nipple he stood and walked over to her.

"What time do you get off tonight," he asked -- somewhat directly.

"Midnight, unless we have a late call."

"I'll be on the porch."

"Okay."

He turned back to Sassy and her brood, lay down beside the runt and made sure she was getting through the scrum to a nipple -- and he stayed there until it look like she was about to explode.

"Denny, I've got to go into work first thing...I have a procedure at six..."

"You want me to come over, or bring them over before you leave?"

"You'll, I mean, you can take care of them?"

"Of course. I'm on six weeks survivors leave. They won't let me in the cockpit until I pass a psychiatric review, so I'm home for the next month. Besides, I'd love to take care of them."

"Have you named the little one yet?"

"Yup."

"Good. Well, she's yours if you want her."

He looked at Bruce, then down at the mass of puppies -- and his eyes filled with tears as he nodded his head. "Thanks, Bruce. Yeah, I'd love that."

"Well, you know where the key is. Just come in and get them if you want, or stay here with them."

"Yeah. We'll stay here 'til you get back."

"I have rounds at noon, so I should be home by around two or so."

He nodded, amazed how his little pup was filling up -- and out. "She looks like she's about to explode," he whispered.

"She is. Better take her off now. You still have the little tent set up?"

"Yup."

"May be best to keep her there tonight. Keep her warm, let her lungs take in that humidified air. I can't believe how small he is, Denny. If she was human she'd be in the neo-nate unit."

"I'll handle it, Bruce. I won't let anything to happen to her."

The physician looked at the pilot and nodded his head in understanding.

+++++

She parked in the drive and walked around the side of the house, found him on the porch with the humidifier rigged on a rolling cart, the little pup sound asleep within. He had two glasses on the little glass-topped table set between the chairs, and a bottle of Scotch there, too.

"Did you start without me?" she asked, noting that he was still looking up into the night sky.

"No. Pour me one, would you?"

She sat, poured two drinks and handed one to him. "Here you go. How's Jenn."

"Her breathing sounds good, but when she tries to move, well, her head wobbles and she gets, well, it looks like tremors."

"She's got a lot to overcome."

"We will."

"She's lucky to have you, Denton."

"I'm lucky to have her," he said, still looking up into the dome of the sky.

"What are you looking at?"

"Hmm -- what? Oh, hell, I don't know. Just a feeling, I guess."

"A feeling?"

He shrugged, and she just caught the motion in the darkness. "I lookup there sometimes and I wonder what's out there, maybe beyond all that nothingness..."

"I always thought it was just infinite space, on and on, forever."

"Yeah," he sighed, "maybe it is. I went to a Jesuit school and it was odd, you know? Most of the Jesuit Fathers hovered along the razor's edge, some almost atheists, others pretending to be True Believers, in the classroom, at least..."

"I grew up in Hope, Arkansas," Green whispered. "Most of the people there were True Believers, especially in the classroom."

"Where'd you go to college?"

"Texas Christian."

"History, right?"

"Yes. Where'd you go to school?"

"Annapolis, then ten years in the Navy."

"Wow. And you flew...in the Navy?"

"Yup."

"Carriers? All that stuff?"

"All that stuff."

"Maybe it's been glamorized into a cliche, but that seems like a pretty cool way to make a living."

"What? Flying from a boat? Or killing people while flying from a boat."

"Did you kill people?"

"I suppose so, but like most of us I tried not to think about it."

"Where?"

"Iraq, Afghanistan, Libya, even Somalia. You know...what I remember most was a mission there, in Somalia. Some warlord we were trying to get on "our side" wanted a village bombed and so someone in Washington decided we'd bomb this shithole in the middle of nowhere. Four of us made the OP, four aircraft with a combined worth of almost 200 million dollars, and we put almost 20,000 pound of high explosives on target. We'd been told it was a terrorist stronghold, but of course it wasn't. Turned out the warlord knew one of his opponent's families was hiding out there, somewhere in that little village. Maybe two hundred people lived there, but after the four of us visited that evening not one soul was left alive. Turned out something like ninety percent of the people there were women and children, and sometimes I get lost in the idea that the four of us in our hundreds of millions of dollars worth of hardware killed a couple thousand women and kids on the whim of some warlord."

"Jesus..."

"I'm pretty sure Jesus had nothing to do with that one, Ellen. Matter of fact, I think Jesus turned his back on our country back in the sixties. Something went wrong with us, ya know? Something inside us broke, as a people, and whatever it was that made us special just went away."

She heard it in his voice then. Profound despair. Despair that would never be excused by a just God. Despair that wouldn't go away, no matter how many well-intentioned platitudes were hurled his way. Despair that lingered in the night, in the far side of nothingness -- in a place even God didn't go anymore.

"Are you angry?"

"Angry? I don't know why I would be? I've done everything I set out to do; I did what I was told to do. I was promised that ours was a just cause..."

"And now you're staring into the night, asking questions that don't have answers."

"Oh, I think that's the real problem, Ellen. We'll never find answers when we aren't even asking the right questions."

"Is that why you've grown so attached to that pup?"

"That little girl has the most pure soul I've ever felt..."

"Because she's so helpless?"

"Helpless?"

"She would have died out there if you hadn't..."

"But I did. I was the one there when she needed help the most, I balanced the equation. The universe will make sense of the how and the why if and when it wants to. All I know is for some reason I was there when she needed me. For some reason we're connected," he said, pointing at the heavens. "For some unknown reason, that little girl is meant to be the most important thing in my little universe."