A few days after Taylor came home with this suitcase in hand, he and Gavin took us for an extended car ride. We were in the car so long that Dutch and I became bored with smelling out the window, and the men rolled up the glass and Dutch and I lay sprawled on each other in the backseat.
After a time, though, I sat up, suddenly aware of a change. Ever since people had begun taking me away from Lucas, I had not only sensed him out there, but I could smell the place where we lived, the town. The way the scents had come together until it was a singular presence on the wind made for an identifiable mark, different from other odors, other towns. But wherever we were going, now, it was far enough away that the presence faded until it was undetectable.
I had lost the smell of home.
The air was dry and dusty and I smelled large animals and open water, but that was all. I did not know if I would be able to do Go Home from here.
We stopped to do Do Your Business, Taylor holding my leash and Gavin holding Dutch’s. “This is not my favorite place,” Taylor told Gavin.
“Is this the pre-bad mood to the bad mood you’re going to be in the whole time?” Gavin asked.
“What’s the industry here in Farmington, anyway? Manure?”
“Coal and gas, mainly. It has its charms. You like the rivers,” Gavin said.
“Charm. That’s precisely the word I was looking for.”
We all climbed back into the car. As much as I liked car rides, I hoped we would now return back to their house, or the cabin.
“Okay,” Taylor declared grimly. “Let’s go see Sylvia.”
As we drove, Taylor and Gavin became anxious, touching each other for reassurance. Their moods affected Dutch and me, and we circled each other in the backseat, our noses to the window.
Eventually the car stopped and we jumped out onto a front yard that was nearly all cement. Dutch marked what little foliage he could find. The door opened and a woman stood there.
“Hi, Mom,” Gavin greeted. I glanced at him, wondering why he would say Mom’s name. But humans will do this, mention other people, and dogs will never understand. Gavin and Taylor also talked from time to time about Dude, one of the boys who fed me salty meat and gave me a car ride. Gavin went to the door and kissed the woman on her face Dutch followed and I did, too.
“Hello, Sylvia,” Taylor called from the back of the car. He was getting out his suitcase—he sure liked lugging that thing around with him.
“Long time, boys,” the woman observed with a cough. Her name was Sylvia and she lived with a female cat named Chloe. It smelled smoky and dry inside and the windows were mostly covered with blankets, so it was gloomy. Dutch sniffed around, excited by the promise of cat, whose name we wouldn’t learn until later.
The backyard was enclosed with a high fence made of boards. Not much was growing there except along the back fence, where bushes and grasses led a sparse, thirsty existence. Most of the space was taken up by a pool, which was the word the people used to describe a small pond filled with clear water that had a strong smell and taste. It was in the backyard where we met the cat for the first time.
Dutch was intensely interested in Chloe, lunging at the end of his leash when he saw her, but Gavin and Taylor both shouted “No!” very loudly and Dutch shrank from their anger, wagging with his ears down.
“You can’t bother Chloe,” Gavin said sternly. “No, Dutch.”
I had the sense that Dutch was bewildered that he was being disciplined when there was a cat right there who needed chasing.
Chloe was arching her back and her tail had gotten very thick, and now she stared at Dutch, her lips pulled back.
Some cats play and some do not and Chloe did not. I decided to ignore her.
“Chloe can take care of herself, she’s not like Mike. But when she has her kittens, your dogs better behave,” Sylvia said crossly. She had smoke coming out of her mouth when she talked, and eventually I would learn that the burning thing in her hand was called a “cigarette.”
The people settled into chairs outside by the pool. Sylvia drank from a tall container full of ice, and Taylor and Gavin held glasses with dark liquid in them. All of them emitted a similar scent.
“Wait, did you say ‘not like Mike’?” Taylor asked. “Mike?”
“He used to hide under the bed when I vacuumed,” Sylvia said.
“I think I’m missing something,” Taylor said. “Isn’t Mike your boyfriend?”
“No, Mike the cat. Different Mike. Mike’s history,” Sylvia stated emphatically, waving her cigarette. “Good riddance.”
“Oh? What happened with Mike, Mom?” Gavin asked.
“He got hit by a car.”
“What?” Taylor blurted, sounding distressed.
“No, I know what happened with the cat.” Gavin laughed. “I mean with Mike the man. I thought you two were talking about getting married.”
“He’s an alcoholic,” Sylvia said, taking a long drink. Taylor and Gavin exchanged glances. “I don’t mean the good kind, either. Gets mean.”
Dutch settled down with a groan, distressed that Chloe was sitting there right in front of us licking her paw.
“We really appreciate you taking care of Bella and Dutch, Sylvia,” Taylor said after a long pause. We both glanced up at our names. Chloe, having laid down the law, strolled loftily away.
“I don’t mind. Could be worse. Remember that biker gang your sister brought over?” Sylvia asked Gavin.
“I don’t know if it was a gang, exactly,” Gavin observed mildly.
“So her boyfriend moves in,” Sylvia told Taylor, “just temporary because his trailer exploded, which was good because it destroyed all the evidence, and then he’s got a cousin and I don’t know who all else, a million tattoos. Mike was terrified the whole while, under the bed, and at some point I had to say if the cops get called one more time, so they left and your sister didn’t talk to me for six months until she called from some place in Canada to ask if she was adopted.”
Taylor stood up. “Anyone else need a refresher?”
“I think, Mom, to qualify as a biker gang at least one of them has to have a motorcycle,” Gavin said as he held out his glass.
“Whatever.” Sylvia shrugged. “I don’t speak Spanish.”
The next morning Taylor and Gavin were up just after dawn, putting their suitcase in the car, so I knew we would be leaving. But it didn’t work out that way. They sat down with us by the pool. “Guys, this is going to be tough, but we’re leaving for a while. Just half a year, but we will miss you so, so much,” Taylor told us. “We’ll be back in the fall.”
“I love you both,” Gavin whispered. He put his arms around Dutch and Dutch leaned into the hug.
I did not understand the words but the tone reminded me of the last time I’d seen Lucas, and it struck me I might know what was going on. Both men kissed me and petted me and Gavin was weeping, but when they went to the gate they blocked Dutch from accompanying them.