The Clay Lion (27 page)

I laughed along with her, citing exhaustion as
the reason for my lapse in memory.  After a few minutes, she left me alone
to check the health of several of the new kittens that had arrived overnight
and to clean out cages.  The kittens were sweet little balls of orange and
white fluff that mewed happily as I approached them.  I checked each of
them carefully for mites and fleas, felt their abdomens for distension, and
looked in their ears for signs of infection.  My summers spent at the
veterinary clinic had served me well.  The kittens seemed healthy enough,
and I fed each of them from prefilled bottles of formula.

I spent the next couple of hours cleaning out the
cages and pens of the various animals that called the shelter home.  I
found the work to be relaxing and almost therapeutic, as I completed one cage
after another.  As I worked, several families came through the shelter,
inquiring about adoption.  They “
ooh”
ed
and “
aah”ed
over the cats and dogs, each child more
excited than the next. 

I was spraying down the last of the pens when I
heard voices toward the end of the hall.  It was a man and a child. 
The man’s voice seemed strangely familiar to me.  I leaned around the cage
door in an attempt to see them, but both had their backs toward me, so I
returned to my work.  I listened to them getting closer and closer as they
meandered down the long corridor, stopping to look at each of the animals along
the way.  Finally, they arrived at the last pen.  I looked up into
the face of the grieving father from the hospital.

He looked different than he had in the hospital
courtyard all those months ago.  His hair was almost completely grey but
the color had returned to his complexion.  I noticed that, after all the
time that had passed, he still had not fully recovered from the accident as he
was using a cane to walk.  Beside him was a small boy, still in grade
school, eyes wide with the delight of their excursion.

“What kind is that one?” he asked me of the dog
whose cage I was finishing.

“His name is Chuckles,” I responded, smiling at
the boy. “He’s a pure bred mutt.”

The father considered me once, then a second time,
and a look of recognition passed over his face.

“I know you,” he said.

“Yes,” I smiled.  “I know you too.  We
met in the hospital courtyard.”

“Yes, I remember,” he said solemnly.

“Can I see this dog, Daddy?” the boy asked
suddenly.

I looked to the father for acceptance.  He
nodded in my direction.  I called to Chuckles, who happily bounded over to
the pen door, his tail wagging enthusiastically behind him.  I clipped a
leash to his collar.

“Would you like to take him into the yard to play
with him?” I asked.

“Yes!” the boy exclaimed, reaching for Chuckles’
leash.

The father and I followed the boy and the dog
into the fenced yard on the side of the building where they proceeded to romp
around with great enthusiasm.  The father and I stood together, side by
side, watching them both running wildly together.

“His name is Ethan.  I haven’t seen him
smile like this in ages.  Not since before the accident.  I think he
loved Alexis even more than I did, if that’s possible.”

Not knowing how to respond, I stood silently and
waited for him to continue.

“You were right you know,” he announced finally.

“About what?”
I responded.

“That it gets better.  Not a lot, but a
little.  We’re here because, well, the boy just needs some joy in his
life.  I’m still not able to spread a lot of joy around yet, but I
thought, maybe a dog…” he trailed off.

“He looks happy,” I commented.

“He’s getting there.  And how about you?” he
asked, turning from Ethan to look at me.

“I’m… I’m okay.  My arms work again,” I
laughed, holding them high in the air, “so there’s always that.  I think
I’ve finally made peace with things.  How they are.  How they are
supposed to be.”

He considered me for a moment.  “You’re one
special girl,” he said, shaking his head.

“Thanks,” I replied, my heart suddenly feeling as
though it was being squeezed in a vise.

Ethan and Chuckles collapsed into a ball of
laughter and barking in the middle of the field and we could not help but laugh
along with them.

“I think we are going to be welcoming a new
member into our family,” the father said.

“Well then, I believe we need to go fill out some
paperwork,” I replied smiling.

Within the hour, Ethan, his father, and Chuckles
were ready to head home together.  I gave them my email address and they
promised to keep me updated on how Chuckles was adapting to life as a part of
their family.  In reality though, it was not Chuckles I was interested in
keeping tabs on.  Instead, I was more concerned with making sure that
Ethan continued to heal.  As they were leaving, the father pulled me
aside.

           
“I don’t believe that it was an accident that you were here to help us continue
our journey today.  You keep popping up in my life, just when I need
you.  I think you might be some sort of guardian angel,” he laughed. 
“Anyway, thanks.  And good luck.”

“You too,” I replied, embracing him in a much
needed hug, and with that, they were gone.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTY
S
EVEN

The following morning, I awoke to a chirping sound
emanating from the depths of my purse.  I pulled myself out of bed, rubbed
the sleep from my eyes and dumped the contents of my bag on to the floor in an
attempt to find my ringing phone.  Sarah’s number was displayed on the
screen.

“Hello?” I said sleepily into the mouthpiece.

“Brooke!  Where are you?  You were
supposed to meet me here at 8:00!”

Panic surged through my veins.  I had no
idea where I was supposed to be or what I was supposed to be doing.  I
faked it.

“I’ll be right there.  I overslept.  What
are you wearing?” I asked in an attempt to gain some insight into where I was
headed.

“Um, my suit,” she responded. 
“Duh.”

I could not figure out why Sarah would be wearing
a suit.  It was summer.  A suit would be far too hot.  I
wondered if she had some job interview that she had asked me to attend with
her.  Perhaps I was the one with the interview.

“I don’t have a suit Sarah,” I commented.

“What in the world is wrong with you?” I could
feel her frustration through the phone.  “You have a bunch of suits! 
Just wear the purple one you wore last week and get over here!  Our lesson
starts in ten minutes!”

I tried to envision what suit I owned that was
purple.  And then it dawned on me.  Sarah was not wearing a business
suit.  She was wearing a bathing suit.  And we were taking lessons.

Swimming lessons.

The only place I could think of where we could
afford to take swim lessons was the YMCA.  The closest one was over twenty
minutes away.

“I’ll head right out,” I told Sarah.  “I’ll
see you at the Y in twenty minutes?”

“Okay.  I’ll let Garrett know you are going
to be late.”

I dropped the phone back into my purse and cursed
at myself for neglecting to make a note of my swim lessons on my
calendar.  I found several bathing suits hanging behind my bathroom door
and quickly chose one to put on.  I threw on a pair of shorts and a
t-shirt over top, grabbed a towel and my purse, and ran down the stairs.

My mother was slipping on her heels for work as I
entered the kitchen.

“I was wondering where you were,” she
commented.  “It’s a swim morning, isn’t it?”

“Apparently,” I responded, grabbing a banana and
a bagel as I squeezed past her through the open kitchen door.

“Have fun!  See you this afternoon. 
And hey!  We’re having cheeseburgers on the grill for dinner.  If you
would cut some vegetables for
kabobs, that
would be
great!” she called after me as I ran down the driveway.

The drive to the YMCA seemed endless.  I was
forced to stop at every light along the way as if my car was alerting each
traffic signal to turn red as I approached.  At first, I could not
understand what had compelled me to take swimming lessons, and then it occurred
to me that perhaps I was trying to reconnect with Charlie.  Perhaps he was
there.

As I pulled into the parking lot, excitement
coursed through my body.  The anticipation of seeing Charlie was more than
I could handle.  By the time I made it to the pool deck, I was physically
shaking.  I scanned the complex for Sarah and easily found her sitting on
the edge of the pool with a group of seven other adults.  There was a man
in the water who appeared to be our instructor.  He was not Charlie. 
As I made my way over to the class, I inspected the area further in search of
him.  I was dismayed to admit that he was not there.

I sat beside Sarah on the edge of the pool. 
Her beaming smile was infectious.  I could not recall a time when I
remembered her looking so radiant.

“What?” I said.

“What?” she
replied.

“What’s got you so smiley?” I asked.

“You know what,” she said coyly.

I wanted to scream at her that I definitely did
not know what, but I knew that I could not, so I continued to act aloof.

“He asked me!” she whispered conspiratorially.

“Oh he did?” I replied.

“Yes!  To concert tomorrow night…”

“Miss Wallace,” the instructor interrupted with a
grin, “since you decided to skip the first fifteen minutes of class, how about
you hop in and demonstrate the scissor kick we learned last week for the
group.”

“Uh, sure thing,” I replied, easing myself into
the water.  I had absolutely no idea what a scissors kick was and I
prepared myself for the humiliation that would surely follow my
exhibition.  I floated on my back and kicked my legs in the only way I
knew how.

“Seriously, Miss Wallace?” the instructor
admonished as I righted myself at the far end of the pool.  “Miss
Vanguard, would you like to assist your friend here?”

“I’d be happy to Garrett,” Sarah replied, beaming
once again.

Sarah positioned herself in the water gracefully
on her side and began kicking her legs, one on top and one below, in a scissor
like motion underneath the surface.

“Very nice,” Garrett complimented her as she
lifted herself back on to the deck.  “Miss Wallace, would you like to try
again?”

Imitating what Sarah had just demonstrated, I
made my way back down the length of the pool to where the rest of the class was
seated.

“Not bad,” he smiled.

“Thanks,” I said, finding my place beside Sarah
once again.

As the rest of the class took their turns in the water,
Sarah leaned over to me and said, “He’s amazing.  I can’t believe he asked
me out!”  She was looking at Garrett, giddy like the proverbial school
girl.  Suddenly, I realized why we were there.  Sarah was not there
with me.  I was there with Sarah.  Charlie would not appear at the
pool.  We were there because Sarah had a crush on Garrett.  As
disappointed as I was that I could stop looking for Charlie, I was happy for
Sarah.  She deserved to find love.

The remainder of the lesson went by
quickly.  I found myself enjoying my time in the water, the cool
luxuriousness of it wrapping itself around me as I floated through the
pool.  I could not help but think of Charlie and the way his body moved
with such grace and power down the length of the pool at his championship
meet.  Although I knew that my swimming ability would never compare to
his, I enjoyed the satisfaction I felt with regard to my own improvements.

As the lesson ended, my classmates and I dried
off on the pool deck while Sarah and Garrett lingered together in the shallow
end.  I watched them surreptitiously as I redressed, placing my t-shirt
and shorts over my bathing suit.  Long after the rest of the group had
filed off to their respective cars, Sarah emerged from the water, radiant, the
morning sun glistening on her skin.

“Well?” I asked as she dried off.

“We are going to some barbeque at his friend’s
house tonight and then tomorrow, we are driving into the city for the concert,”
she said.  She paused to watch Garrett gathering his next class, a group
of rowdy four and five year olds.  “I never imagined all those months that
I watched him across campus that I would meet him here at the pool with you,
taking swim lessons.  I am
so
glad you decided to drag me here this
summer!”

“Me too,” I replied, absorbing the reality of her
comment.  For some reason, I was the one who wanted swim lessons.  I
was the one who brought her, not the other way around.  I had absolutely
no idea what would have compelled me to seek out swimming lessons, but if it
resulted in Sarah’s happiness, I was glad that we had signed up.