Winter was harsh on the air, burning my throat and stinging the pads of my feet. I craved the warmth of the tent and would gladly snuggle with Axel in there. Someday, I knew, the summer days would return, and perhaps then I could return to doing Go Home, but nothing compelled me to leave the safety of the heat Axel could provide simply by playing with the knobs on the metal box inside the tent.
We were on our way back to the park from town, the sun easing down in a gray sky, when I smelled smoke, burning wood, and people near our house with no walls. It was not Riley, but three strangers, males, their shadows dancing in the large fire they had built in the metal box on the pole. We were just entering the park, trudging along in heavy snow, and when one of them laughed loudly Axel lifted his head, suddenly aware of their presence. He stiffened, and I felt a flash of fear and anger course through him as I lifted my snout to his hand.
The men were young and were throwing Axel’s things, banging them around loudly. Axel was breathing heavily, but he was not moving as he watched them stomp on his belongings.
Oddly, my thoughts flashed back to when the coyotes had pursued Big Kitten and me as we fled to the rocky ridge. There was some way in which this felt like the same thing. These weren’t bad dogs, they were bad men. Bad men like the one Mom made crawl out the door. Bad like the man who came to hurt Sylvia.
Dutch had wanted to bite that man, and the two of us growled and snarled and the man left.
I knew what to do.
Twenty-four
An angry growl rose in my throat. Axel glanced at me in surprise. Then he drew himself up, his fear melting as his fury took hold. I felt it pouring off of him like heat. “Yes, Bella, you are right. This cannot stand.” He broke into a run and I dashed along at his side, our footfalls silent in the muffling snow. It was as if I was facing down the coyotes—a ferocious wrath seized me. I had never bitten a human before, but it seemed that this was what Axel wanted me to do now—I was responding as if he had shouted a command.
The three young males whirled when Axel and I burst into the circle of light from the fire. I barked out a full snarling scream of rage and lunged for the closest man, who fell back onto the ground. My teeth clicked just a tiny distance from his face and Axel stopped me with my leash.
“Jesus!” one of them cried. The two still standing fled out into the night but as the one on the ground shuffled backward Axel advanced, so I was always right on top of him.
“Why did you do this? Who are you working for?” Axel demanded.
“Please. Don’t let your dog hurt me.”
We remained like that for a long moment, and then Axel pulled me back. “It’s okay, Bella. It’s okay,” he said gently.
The third man scrambled to his feet and fled out into the night after his two companions. Moments later, headlights flickered on in the parking lot, and a car roared away.
Axel and I turned to the wreckage of our home. The tent was flattened, the plastic boxes broken, our food scattered. The sadness coming off him in that moment was so profound I actually whined a little, wanting to do anything to provide him comfort, but not knowing what to do.
Axel was able to coax flames from the metal box on the cement. He hauled his blankets and the remnants of the tent over next to it, and we settled in for a miserable night. At first it felt warm, pressed up against him, but gradually my body chilled and my nose and tongue began to ache. I curled up as tightly as I could, my muzzle under my tail. Axel wrapped his arms around me and squeezed, tremors moving through his body. I did not remember ever being this cold. I could not sleep, and neither did Axel. He just clung to me, and I breathed in his scent and wished we would go someplace warm.
At dawn we were up. Axel dug in the snow and found a piece of chicken that sizzled when he put it on the metal box. We shared the paltry meal, and then I glanced up as a familiar car came into the parking lot, its tires hushed on the snow. Tom got out and crunched over to where we were huddled near our meager fire.
“What the hell happened?” he demanded. “Axel, my God.”
“Kids,” Axel said curtly. “Just kids.”
“Jesus.” Tom poked sadly at the mess on the ground. “Did you recognize them?”
Axel looked up at Tom. “Oh yes. I know exactly who they are.”
*
Toward the evening of that same day, a procession of cars flowed into the parking lot. Axel stood and I turned to face the possible threat, though I quickly established that one of the people was Tom.
I picked up a few other scents I recognized as well: the three young men from the night before. They came forward with reluctance. Three older men I had never met marched with grim determination behind them.
Tom led the group. They all came in under the roof of the house with no walls, the three younger men holding their eyes stonily to the ground.
“Hey, Axel,” Tom greeted.
“Hi, Tom.” Axel was as calm as I’d seen him in a long time.
“You probably recognize these three,” Tom said.
“They were just visiting last night,” Axel observed wryly.
One of the young men snorted, looking away, and the man behind him stepped forward and poked him roughly between the shoulder blades. “Pay attention!” the man barked.
All three young men snapped their heads up.
“We are really sorry for what our sons did, Axel,” another of the men spoke up from behind.
“No,” Axel said sternly. “I want to hear them speak.”
Tom was regarding Axel with something like surprise.
“We was drunk,” one of the young men said lamely.
“That is not an excuse,” Axel snapped.
The three young men shifted uncomfortably.
“What do you say to Sergeant Rothman?” demanded one of the older men.
“We’re sorry,” the young men mumbled, one after another.
“They’re going to clean things up here while their fathers and I go into town and pick up replacement equipment,” Tom told Axel. “The boys are paying for everything—we made an arrangement. Let’s just say they’re going to have a very busy summer, working for the city, picking up trash.”
“I’ll stay and make sure they get everything done,” one of the older men declared.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Axel responded. “I can take care of that.”
The three younger men looked uneasily at each other. Tom grinned.
Some things a dog will never understand. I was confused when Tom and his friends left and the younger men remained behind and picked up things and stacked them while Axel watched with his arms crossed, and I was baffled when the older men returned and set up a different tent and gave us different plastic boxes.
All of the men soon left, except Tom. “I guess I just met the soldier who won the Silver Star,” he said softly.
Axel regarded him coolly. “It’s not something you win, Tom.”
“Sorry, Sergeant.” Tom grinned, but his smile eventually faded. “I just wish you would let people help you, Axel.”
“It’s people who did this to me, Tom,” Axel responded.