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CHAPTER 16
Several weeks later, while I was occupied in trying to discover whether my mare Louise was pregnant - a messy process that takes a lot of strength and concentration - a series of joyful yips announced the arrival of Julius D. Nibble. He'd been away for six weeks he told me. Thinking he might have been caught in another trap, Crystal/ Moon'n Dew had gone off looking for him but with no success. Since their third litter, Nibble had become increasingly bored with family life and taken to running off on long jaunts with one of his sons, Carter. Moon thought perhaps he had finally forgotten about being Irving Allen and couldn't find his way back. But now he'd returned. As the sound of his baying echoed through the hills, my heart skipped a beat and with a start I realized how fond of that outstanding animal I'd become. Nibble was not alone. He came up the path followed by Moon, Carter and a new dog. "Never bury a hound 'til he's dead," he grinned cheerfully, as if nothing had happened. Moon glowered. "You'll never believe it," continued Nibble, "but this is Wayne. Do you remember Wayne back in North Carolina? The one we called California Wayne?" Extending a paw, Wayne shook my hand. "Wayne can talk too but he's had a pretty limited existence up to now. The people he lived with weren't exactly talkative types." How did he get from North Carolina to West Virginia?' I asked. "Sold to one of Scoggins' neighbors - a terrible blow to Wayne because they tied him up all the time... so the first chance he got, he ran away... got picked up by a construction worker who owned a cabin about thirty miles from here." Listen, Nibble, I scolded. Moon was pretty worried about you and so was I. You left me hanging right near the end of your story... after all, it is your story. "I'm terribly sorry," Nibble yelped softly. "I would have come back sooner but Wayne here wasn't in very good condition. He didn't get along with his new master and escaped into the forest. For a long time he had practically nothing to eat. See how battered and thin he is. Carter and I have been catching his food for him and letting him rest so he could get up enough steam to reach this place." 'Got mixed up with a porcupine,' Wayne grumbled, 'should have known better... my paws is in bad shape, still got some of them quills in 'em.' "We're going to take care of you," Nibble said. "Don't worry." 'Wayne wagged his tail. 'Juss wish Debbie could have met up with you guys again.' What happened to her? I asked... Nibble told me a little about her." 'She stayed down in North Carolina. They made her a brood hound. She didn't like that much... finally we made up.' At least you made up. 'Oh sure,' Wayne yawned. Nibble leapt up on a bale of hay and slowly licked his paws. "Let me see, just where were we in the story and where are we now. So much has happened I've forgotten... in fact I almost managed to forget I was Irving Allen." You were hoping for that? "Fervently." If you want to finish your story you've got to practice remembering, I scolded. You were at the part where your briefcase had been stolen but Rae had hidden your papers under a tile in the floor of the family chapel; things were getting rough so you were all escaping to Nantucket Island up in Massachusetts. "Ah, Nantucket," Nibble sighed, "a very romantic place... last resort of old whalers... edgy millionaires, perfect place to get off tranquilizers and evaporate into the fog. From Cleveland, Detroit and Toledo, not to mention Pittsburgh and Minneapolis, families come there to fish in deeper social waters. And for the many wives and children farmed out there in the summer by Dad, who flies up from Wall Street on Friday, arrives drunk, stays drunk and complains bitterly about 'day trippers' from Boston clogging up Main Street... it certainly is a last resort. Such a day tripper was I, when as Irving Allen, budding biologist, I would hitchhike to Woods Hole... catch the ferry... bike to a place called Surfside... pitch my tent on the shifting sands and let the sea air cool my frenzied brain. I love Nantucket. So the first moment I heard Rae discussing her plans with Hopkins, I could hear the fog horns mooing on the Sound and vigilant sea birds at the town dump, hear raucous voices of arty goers in rose-covered cottages and the Lear jets touching down on August nights through walls of fog." "And it was on just such a night under cover of darkness, in a hired Lear jet, that Rae, Hopkins, Crystal and I secretly landed on Nantucket where we were met on the runway by an old Portuguese man with an equally old limo in which we were soon speeding across the moors to a vine covered cottage at the end of an improbable dirt road. As Rae always called her house in New York The Pad or that Dump, Crystal and I were prepared for another Greenfield mansion and were pleasantly surprised, therefore, when 'the Shack' to which she'd referred... turned out to be just that, an old weathered shingle cottage with a vest-pocket living room, cubby hole kitchen with a hand pump, and four doll house bedrooms which we liked immediately because they made us feel bigger." * 'Ah,' said Rae, after the car had deposited us and she and Hopkins sat by an open window sipping tea and watching the sun rise. 'Peace at last... just smell the sea... and the roses too.' "My nose went up, for I had always loved the smell of roses, but Yikes, I growled, and made for the front door almost knocking Rae's cup from her hand." 'What's wrong?' Crystal yipped softly.' "He's here, can you believe it?." 'Who?" Crystal asked irritably. 'What's wrong with you, Irving?' "Straker, that's who." I whimpered with excitement. "He's been here or he's outside there somewhere. You don't think I'd forget that smell, do you? I have to get out of here and find him." 'Irving are you sure?' "Absolutely... I'm sure... be quick... whine, scratch at the door as though you have to pee or something and I'll dash past." "Crystal whined and scratched but Hopkins was not to be taken in by such deception. We were put on leashes, walked ceremoniously to the edge of the sea and back, and told to go to sleep until lunch. While Rae and Hopkins napped, I lay awake sniffing and when they woke up, and lunched and sat on the beach, I continued to sniff. Straker's odor did not grow stronger but he had been there, no doubt about it. I was beside myself with excitement. Had my hour of revenge arrived?" "The next morning, Rae was up at five-thirty and a new routine designed to counteract the debilitating effects of our Manhattan sojourn began. Yoga exercises, at which Crystal and I kept Rae company by yawning and stretching, lasted 'til seven. At seven, exactly, it was down to the beach where Rae took to the sea. We were both surprised to see how well she swam and she seemed equally impressed by our aquatic abilities as we paddled after her... totally unaware of the schools of sharks which I knew infested these waters in the summer. She would swim far out beyond the breakers while we watched nervously from shore. After a hearty breakfast, we would lie in the sand dozing while Rae busied herself with correspondence or helped Hopkins prune the roses and put the place in order. Lunch followed at one o'clock sharp and after that, Rae and Hopkins would nap til three-thirty when the whole routine would begin again." "It was at nap time the following day that I left Crystal to guard Rae, and was finally able to satisfy my curiosity about the strange traces of Straker's unforgettable, if not unforgivable, odor." "Already familiar with the Island, it was an easy matter for me to carry on this activity with methodical precision. On the first day, I sniffed my way in an ever-widening arc around the cottage and the acreage on which it stood until I'd pinpointed the direction from which the objectionable odor came. On the following day, swiftly running on the firm sand at low tide, I managed to track it as far as the village of Quidnet some distance southeast. On the third day I located it definitely as emanating from beyond Quidnet in the region of Siasconset where, on the fourth day, hidden in the dunes, my search came to an end as I observed the half naked body of Straker bathing in the sea. With his disgusting smell wafting my way on a strong off shore breeze it took all the self control I could muster to keep from attacking him there on the spot." "After my daily excursions to 'Sconset, as it was called, my mind was abuzz with scenarios for Stark's extermination. Then one morning as I was lying in the sun, the local woman who took in washing, stopped to speak to Rae." 'That dog of yours, I seen him up in 'Sconset yesterday or the day before,' she said, looking at me. 'How can that be?' Rae asked politely. 'That's almost ten miles from here!' 'I know it sounds mighty odd, Ma'am, but there he was, as big as life, sniffin' around the old Post Office there in 'Sconset and the next day I saw him up at the golf course. He didn't look lost... looked like he knew just where he was goin'. I watched one day... really weird he was, you might say methodical... seemed like he was lookin' for someone. Another time I saw him up to Quidnet, circlin' the houses there and stretched out on the dunes behind the beach there. You'd best keep him tied up, ma'am, he might get in trouble.' 'Well, Sir Nibble, what have you got to say for yourself?' asked Rae, after the woman had gone. 'I know you're not asleep... open your eyes!' "I rolled over on my back and groaned." 'How can I discipline anything so nutty?' Rae laughed. "I wagged my tail tentatively." 'Don't let it happen again, this wandering around, or I'll have to tie you up,' Rae said sternly. 'You saw him, you actually saw him?' Crystal asked when we were alone. "He's here." I growled softly. 'How on earth did he find out we were here? He moves fast.' "Yes, I saw him but have no idea how he found out we were here... that really puzzles me... suppose he's been having Rae watched. Not only has he found us but I swear he's been down here poking around. He's up to something... has his family here in a condo over in 'Sconset... takes every opportunity to ditch them and walk up the beach in this direction. I'm sure he watches us when we take our morning swim with Rae... his smell is strongest then. I know he's planning something and I am too." 'Irving, don't go crazy, for God's sake,' Crystal warned. 'Here we are having a wonderful vacation... ' "You're having a wonderful vacation, not me." 'Yes, and now you're going to spoil it all. Just remember what Wayne said... you're a dog now... you're always reminding me of that fact. If a dog kills a man that dog gets disposed of... there's no trial... no ACLU for dogs.' "I don't intend to be caught." 'Has Straker seen you?' "No. And you seem to forget... if I don't get him first and he manages to kill Rae - which I'm sure is what he's planning to do - that'll be the end of us." 'That doesn't mean you have to go running all over this island attracting attention... you'll get picked up again. Remember what happened to you in New York, you... almost got turned into cat food.'
"I had to respect Crystal's judgment, after all she'd been my attorney, it was her duty to curb my passions... curtailing excursions though was not exactly in my book of survival. I had to know what Straker was up to." "As the days went by, he became bolder and bolder. One morning while Rae was swimming, I picked up a particularly strong whiff and spotted him about a half mile down the beach. Wanting to show Crystal I wasn't crazy, I tricked her into racing me through the dunes until we came even with Straker who was at the water's edge. Peering from behind a clump of Scotch Broom, we watched him in his wet suit practicing with oxygen tank and periscope." "Can't you smell him?" 'Not really,' Crystal replied. "He's getting ready to do her in... look at all that equipment." * "During my excursions to 'Sconset," Nibble continued, "I found Marilyn Straker and her two daughters comfortably settled in a cottage on the grounds of an exclusive inn. They'd overcome their disappointment at not being in Southampton where the Strakers usually summered, and had plunged into the ceaseless round of luncheons, cocktail parties, dinners and after-midnight water frolics that made August in Nantucket an unforgettable experience. Straker blamed the bad publicity Combinant Technologies had been getting and explained that, as many of his principal investors summered in Nantucket, his presence there during this crisis would be reassuring. Attractive Marilyn Straker could have cared less. As long as there were a few handsome men about and as long as Fred stayed far enough away from her, she didn't care where she was. As for the girls, they soon discovered that the boys who came to Nantucket were just as rich and perhaps a little more sexy than the Southampton variety." "After the incredible fiasco of the break-in at the Greenfield mansion, Straker realized he was in deep trouble. Lying awake nights, wracking his brain trying to figure out what had gone wrong, he soon began to imagine he had been singled out by fate for some special brand of torture. 'What other explanation,' he agonized, 'could there be for the vicious, uncalled for attacks on him by this nasty old Greenfield woman? What was so wrong, anyway, about producing creatures that would take the load off everyone's back? Hadn't Henry Ford done it and Edison and Watson with his computers; and robots, weren't they just mechanical imitations of what "helpers" could be? Who but a crank would not see at once what a contribution to progress "helpers" would make. And the way she kept talking about how ugly they were. She should look in her own mirror some day, she'd see something ugly. When you looked at humans objectively as a variety of hairless apes, Irving's creatures looked pretty good. What baloney! People got used to anything...' His nights were filled with bad dreams." "But facts were facts. By blurting out the whole thing on TV about the secret work they'd been doing, showing those photographs, Rae Greenfield had sent Combinant stock plummeting and was buying it up at bargain prices in such quantity she might soon own a controlling interest. That unfortunately was a fact. And her cleverness in letting Dimitri and Larsen steal a briefcase filled with worthless toilet paper was a fact too. She was clever and dangerous but she didn't scare him. Trouble, trouble trouble! When there's trouble, find the source and eliminate it, had been the advice of his dentist father. Rae Greenfield was trouble. When he thought of her, his blood pressure zoomed...not only was she a threat to his bank balance, she was a health hazard as well. Adopting a strict schedule of daily exercise, foregoing lunch and sometimes dinner as soon as he had settled his family in their cottage, Straker took for the golf course and I followed him." "Every morning he was out there, whacking away at the balls, working out his hate and getting in shape. It was a good place for him to be seen. In his pink linen pants and Madras shirt, looking confident, slapping the backs of his old investors and shaking hands warmly, you would have thought Rae Greenfield and her expose a mere speck on the surface of his mirrored sun glasses. The cool pursuit of money had always been his real talent... not the law, not politics, but ferreting out money. No matter for what purpose, he knew how to get from your pocket into his... or so he thought" "And so it was golf in the morning and after a brief nap, the ocean. I knew that in college he'd been considered a better than average swimmer. Of course, that was before he'd put on weight. Diligently, as I hid behind the dunes, he swam up and down along the surf line, improving each day until he could do three hundred yards without stopping. He was going to have to swim at least that far if his plan was going to work. But would it, I asked myself and what were the alternatives?' "Beneath Fred Straker's bravado I knew there had always been a gnawing feeling of failure, a half conscious awareness which came and went in flashes, that perhaps the quality of his life wasn't really worth the energy he was putting into it. I believed it was the horror of this thought that drove him on. If he were to go on living, it was an absolute necessity for him to have an unlimited supply of money... he couldn't even change a tire, barely scramble an egg. To him money was life... like blood or water. How could he face the mocking innuendos Marilyn would let fly at him if he were to run out of it? Not to mention the disdain and scornful looks with which his daughters would greet such an announcement. Humiliation! Marilyn would leave him at once for that new gynecologist in Saddle River, Dr. Burke. He could just see the two of them laughing about him... Marilyn stretched out on Burke's examination table." "All these thoughts had pushed him toward murdering Rae. But if he could just get through the next few weeks without cracking, he might pull it off... I knew this was what he was thinking... money, money, money, better than a stiff prick. With more money, he'd be able to afford more women... beautiful, young, sexy ones, doe-eyed and dumb who wouldn't care what he smelled like as long as the money kept coming out of his pockets. Money... it would pay for the pacemaker he badly needed, the hair transplant, a face job. Then they would flock to him." "A few weeks later I could see Straker was feeling better about himself ...even managed to have an interesting sexual encounter on the beach with a waitress from the 'Sconset Inn. Diligently, however, observing her with binoculars from a distant dune, he had also been keeping an eye on his intended victim who rose before dawn and jogged up the beach to Wauwinet. Each morning like clockwork Rae went for a swim far out beyond the breakers and if she was crazy enough to do that, drowning for one reason or another wouldn't be so unusual... just pull her under and hold her there. I was certain that was his plan With his wet suit, his oxygen tank and his periscope, it would be an easy matter. She'd never see him coming and while he was finishing her off, Dimitri and Larsen would be searching the cottage... old Hopkins might give them trouble but a few chips of wood under his fingernails or the jolt of the cattle prod would quickly induce him to remember where the papers were. There would be no corpus delicti either... after she'd drowned, he would stab her and before anyone knew otherwise, the sharks would be breakfasting on her remains... it would be all over by ten thirty. Larsen and Dimitri would be on a plane back to New York with the papers and he would be playing golf as usual." "A week later Larsen McKantor, and Dimitri Rostov met Straker on a stretch of deserted beach north of Siasconset where I lay hidden behind a clump of dune grass. 'Tomorrow, gentlemen, we will strike,' Straker announced pompously to the two men who stood shivering in their bathing suits. 'We don't want to waste time...chances are you could still be under surveillance for that break-in... have you noticed anyone following you?' McKantor and Rostov shook their heads. How's your foot Dimitri? Starker shouted into the wind. 'Think you can manage?' Dimitri nodded affirmatively. 'Good, now listen... when you leave here you will go into town and pick up a jeep reserved in your name, Lars...pick it up and stow away the fishing gear you've brought... did you get everything I told you to? Right... all right... now listen. Lars you are to pick up Dimitri at five am... simple, very simple... the two of you are going out for a morning of surf casting... and don't forget those rubber masks I bought you...Okay... The two of you are going to arrive at the Greenfield cottage at six-thirty am... this map explains everything... when you get to this road here, you turn right...doesn't look like much so don't miss it, but it's her driveway... drive a quarter of a mile and park here.' Straker placed a muscular forefinger on the map, 'Right here... no problem... You have the pistols with silencers?' The two men nodded. 'Shoot the two dogs first... you'll find that fool butler, not quite the fool he pretends to be so watch out. There's no phone so you don't have to worry about him calling for help....gag him, tie him up and question him... he'll pretend he doesn't know anything about Irving's papers...use the cattle prod on him and if that doesn't work wait for me. As soon as I've disposed of the old lady, I'll swim in. If you hear dogs barking on the beach, go down and shoot them. We'll throw the dogs and that pesky Hopkins in the surf after that Greenfield bitch... the sharks should have worked up a good appetite by then. After that we'll straighten the place up, write out a note on Miss Greenfield's typewriter for the lady who comes to pick up laundry...and SPLIT.' 'What if the papers aren't there... what if we can't find them?' Dimitri, trying to think of things that could go wrong... for him there were too many. Straker shook his head impatiently, 'If those papers aren't there... which I can't believe because she's the type who would keep them with her... by getting rid of them all, the dogs, the butler and Rae...at least we would've gotten rid of half our problem...no more TV appearances...no more Greenfield exposes, and we can stop worrying about a hostile take over.' 'What if we're discovered?' Larsen McKantor looked worried. 'I've been watching her for two weeks now, Lars... no one comes there, I've inquired around... no one even knows she's on the Island... but if for some reason things don't work out... run like hell for your jeep and get off the Island... myself I would swim back here to Siasconset.' 'There's always the chance,' Larsen persisted, ' that things will not work out as planned...they certainly didn't that other night.' 'There's always a chance, Lars,' Straker exasperated, rolled his eyes menacingly, ' there's always a chance you might drop dead of a heart attack next week... so what. We're in this thing too deep to think about these things. If we don't make things work right all that Combinant Tech stock you've accumulated will be worthless and we'll be in prison but that's not gonna happen 'cause we're all intelligent, strong men and we are going to do this thing right. Dimitri here has a chance to come out as big as Irving... bigger. Think how many Mercedes you can buy, Dimitri, with a woman to match each one... why, you might even win the Nobel Prize.' * "Al's place was a small filling station-grocery store between Nantucket Town and the airport, a haunt of local residents, a place where day trippers stopped on their way to the beach for beer and sandwiches and where after hours, if you knew Al, you could buy a bottle of whiskey." "Later in the afternoon of the day Fred Straker delivered his last minute briefing to McKantor and Rostov, Dexter Scoggins, after a fruitless search for Rae Greenfield, stood alone in Al's Place playing Pac-Man. Three days before he'd stumbled off the Woods Hole Ferry staring in disbelief at everything about him: the big yachts, the art galleries, men wearing purple pants, pretty girls wearing practically nothing at all. People stared back at him too. He hadn't changed clothes since he left home; the rides coming up from the South had been few and far between and the heat and noise of New York City had almost finished him off. A bad trip, until he'd finally been able to persuade one of the servants at the Greenfield mansion to tell him where Rae had gone. Now after three days pedaling around Nantucket on a rented bike looking for her, he was discouraged and tired." "Al's neon sign buzzed in the gloom of a thick warm afternoon fog as irritably, Dexter pushed and shoved at the machine." 'Don't have to lay into it like that,' said Al, a swarthy middle aged man with friendly eyes. Dexter glared at him. 'Sorry, I been on this fuckin' Island for three whole days lookin' for someone... can't find hide nor hair of her... asked everywhere... nobody knows. That or else they won't tell. Even went to the Post office and they say they don't give out that kind of information... what bullshit!' 'Lookin' for a girlfriend, huh?' ventured Al, glancing sideways at Dexter. 'What does she look like? Maybe I seen her.' 'Not exactly... I'm lookin' for a Miss Rae Greenfield... don't suppose you've ever heard of her, have ye?' Al looked Dexter up and down, raised an eyebrow and poured himself a shot of whiskey. 'Might and might not,' he allowed. 'What would the likes a you be wantin' with her?" 'Got business with her... dog business. I breed hounds... breed 'em and train 'em down in North Carolina. This Miss Greenfield bought two of 'em off me, wrote me a letter she wanted me to come up here and train 'em for her. I told her when she bought 'em they'd give her trouble if they didn't get more trainin' but she thought she could do it herself... guess she's realized it takes an expert to train hounds right... sent me directions to her place but I lost 'em. Come all this way and damned if I can find her.' He stared unblinkingly at Al, hoping his lie wouldn't show. 'Some fix to be in, huh?' 'Guess you must be tellin' me the truth you got a Southern accent and all,' observed Al. 'Just so happens you come to the right place. My sister takes in Miss Greenfield's wash but she's got strict orders not to mention it to no one that Miss Greenfield's on the Island.... if you've got business with her what's those dogs look like?" "Dexter described us in glowing terms." 'Sounds like them all right... picked up the laundry out there myself the other night... saw two dogs looked just like that. My sister said they been runnin' all over the Island... com'ere and I'll draw you a map of how to get there.' He found a piece of paper and Dexter leaned over him as he drew and explained the map. 'You take this road here that goes out along the Sound. Take it to here, a place called Wauwinet. There's a sign there, turn right and go 'til you see the first dirt road on your left... about a mile. Ain't much of a road you might miss it... so be careful. Go down that road toward the ocean, that'd be about another three quarters of a mile. You'll come to a cottage covered with vines, looks more like a bird's nest than a house, but it's there and she's in it.' He looked up at Dexter. 'But you look pretty scruffy to go visitin' a fine lady like that. Better get cleaned up first.' "Elated by this sudden turn of events, Dexter jumped on his bike and pedaled back to town as fast as he could. Purchasing some new clothes on Main Street, he returned to his room, showered, dressed, jumped on his bike again and, following the directions Al had given him, pedaled toward Wauwinet. By the time he found Rae's turn-off, however, the sun had set and coming to the conclusion it might be better to wait until morning, he ditched his bike in a clump of bayberry bushes and skirting the road and the house, made for a high dune where he could spread out his sleeping bag and present himself properly the next morning." "It was a warm summer evening. A full moon was just rising out over the ocean. Lighting up a reefer, Dexter lay down and was just drifting off when my familiar bark brought him awake." * "Peering over the dune, he saw me standing on the front porch," continued Nibble. "I was lifting my head high, swiveling my nose trying to lock him on to my olfactory scanner, then mindlessly ran towards his scent and yikes, suddenly there he was less than three feet away, those big purple eyes staring right through me!" 'Hey, Scrapper boy, hey boy,' he whispered, extending a hand. 'Come here.' "I put my head down between my feet, growled and bounded back to the porch where I touched noses with Crystal and conveyed my startling news." 'We'd better get back in the house quick,' Crystal whimpered. 'What's he doing here... are you sure it's him?' "Do noses lie? Can't you smell him? Last person in the world I'd have expected but you can be sure he's come to claim us." "Later that same afternoon, Mike Armstrong, having bribed one of the servants at Rae's place in New York to disclose her whereabouts and, having spent a week on Nantucket vainly searching for her, finally stumbled on a lead. Stopping at a filling station to gas up his Harley, he'd got to talking with the mechanic called Sam who owned an old Cadillac parked nearby and told Mike he supplemented his income by chauffeuring summer residents about the Island." 'Don't suppose you'd know where a Miss Greenfield lives,' Mike asked idly after he'd gassed up. 'Come all the way from Louisiana but can't seem to locate her.' 'You mean the old gal that's been on TV? 'The same.' 'Sure do... took her out to Wauwinet about a month ago... ain't seen hide nor hair of her since. Bein' a celebrity like that must be pretty tough. I bet she's still there though, cause if she was goin' anywheres she'd have me take her.' 'Wau what?' "Wauwinet. She don't exactly live there but that's the place you have to go to first.' "Taking down the directions, excited that he'd finally picked up Rae's trail, Mike rode back toward town looking for the Wauwinet Road. By the time he'd made his way through the jam-up of cars and tourists, however, and seeing a full moon rising over the harbor, he realized it was too late to go looking for dirt roads in the middle of nowhere. Returning to his hotel room, he set the alarm on his watch for early the next morning, lay down and tried to sleep. He had to admit he was excited about seeing Rae. At his age it was pretty silly falling in love but there it was and what could he do about it? Tossing and turning in his bed, he finally drifted off into a series of bad dreams. Rae was in danger and he was trying to save her... he crawled up mountains that crumbled and fell away beneath his feet... he tried to cross rivers that widened as he swam. During an especially violent episode he jumped out of bed half asleep, grabbed the Smith & Wesson automatic he always kept near him, and woke up pointing it at his own reflection in the mirror." "Just then the alarm on his watch beeped five o'clock. Dressing quickly, he slipped his gun into a shoulder holster, locked the door of the room behind him, revved up his motorcycle and was soon speeding through the fog toward Rae's cottage. "On the morning of that same day... a day we would never forget, we awoke as usual in bed with Rae. The old brass alarm clock had just gone off. I stretched and yawned and nuzzled Rae who suddenly threw all the pillows at me, jumped out of bed, put on the tea kettle and let us out on the front porch." "This was our favorite time of day. We nosed around performing our ablutions, chased shore birds and shoved our noses down fresh mouse holes. This morning, however, we sniffed the air suspiciously." "Dexter Scoggins is out there," I whined softly 'Yes, I can smell his porky odor?' Crystal nodded, 'but why?' "Maybe he saw us on television with Rae." 'We'd better not go too far, he might try and snatch us away... take us back to his horrible dog farm.' "Like to see him try," I growled threateningly, "we could put up a good fight... after all, we're not helpless pups anymore." "Just then that other familiar smell floated in on the breeze." What's that?' Crystal asked. "It's Straker, he's out there too." 'We know he's been around a lot but...' "I know you don't pick up his scent like I do but he's somewhere around here, right now and close.' "We'd better wait right here,' she sniffed, a shrewd wrinkle of distrust forming on the side of her nose. 'I smell something else too, a scent I remember from the night of the break-in in New York... things aren't right, Irving, something's going to happen... when Rae comes out, you go with her. I'll wait here. I don't like the feel of things and Hopkins may need me.' "Good idea, I agreed and when Rae appeared in her bathing suit, I followed her to the beach. It was an unusually warm morning with a land breeze from the southwest. The sea was flattened out and the combers thudded in long rolls toward the shore. While I positioned my self a few feet up on the beach, Rae splashed herself and dove in. It always amazed me how she would swim straight out, as though she were on her way to Spain or the sun which appeared to be hanging there in a fog bank about a mile out. But I didn't like to see someone her age doing this so I locked eyes on her, ready at any moment to swim out in case she needed help and always worried that one day she might just swim on forever and not come back." "On this particular morning, I watched her receding form and found myself whining loudly because she seemed to be going out even further. Finally she was only a speck in that vast blue sheet of ocean which, even as a human, I'd respected as being far more dangerous that it appeared. It was then, as I was straining to keep track of her, that I saw what I'd half expected since I caught his odor on the porch. Sure enough there he was, Straker, some two hundred yards down the beach, a sinister black form in his wet suit and flippers, adjusting his face mask and oxygen tank as he slunk into the water and submerged. "Horrified, I stood watching the slight ripple his periscope made as he swam slowly toward Rae. My first thought was to race back to the house and tell Crystal, but I could see there was no time. The distance between the periscope and Rae was closing....immediate action was called for if she was to be saved. Thinking of that river where the otters taught me how to swim, I took a deep breath and plunged in. Jumping and kicking, I broke through the surf to the calm swells beyond where I could now see Straker would intercept Rae before I could reach her." "Wishing to heaven that for ten minutes I could have been a man again, I dog-paddled madly. Unaware of the danger approaching her, Rae saw me and shouted. 'Go back, go back, you crazy pooch, you'll drown.' "Then Straker's periscope submerged. A quick expression of panic mingled with understanding gripped Rae's face and she disappeared, struggling beneath the surface. In the clear blue depths I could see the shadowy form of Straker fumbling with his knife, dragging Rae down. Rae fought back but was no match for Straker's equipment." "Now, thought I, now at last my chance has come." " As Straker raised his knife, I flashed through the water toward him and sunk my teeth in his exposed underarm. Again and again I ground my jaws together, ripping through his wet suit and tearing away a chunk of flesh. Intoxicated with the sweet taste of revenge, I bit viciously at his hands and thighs. Blood began oozing out of him like octopus ink. I was about to go for his throat when I saw that Rae was floundering. In the same instant an ominous shadow passed overhead and the malignant shape of a shark materialized a few feet away. If I was going to save Rae, I had to get her out of there. Surfacing under her limp form, I caught her bathing suit between my teeth and swam as fast as I could toward shore. Suddenly I heard a loud Splash, snapping jaws, a horrible scream and looking back saw three sharks rise out of the water, fighting over Straker whom they had bitten in half." "May you be reborn as a pig in Iowa, I barked joyfully and paddled on with Rae, lest the same fate befall us." "Rostov and McKantor had watched through binoculars as Straker closed in on Rae and she disappeared beneath the water. Then they crept through the underbrush until they came to the cottage. Seeing them through the window and seeing their guns, Crystal disappeared beneath the sofa. They took Hopkins by surprise just as he was waking up, trussed him in a kitchen chair and Rostov questioned him, yelling menacingly and demanding the papers." 'Madam never tells me anything about her private affairs,' Hopkins insisted bravely. 'I know nothing.' 'Torture him,' snapped McKantor from behind his mask. 'Where's the cattle prod?' ' A few chips of wood under his fingernails should do the trick,' Rostov growled. 'Nazis,' screamed Hopkins. "Under the sofa, Crystal shook with indignation but remained silent." 'Tell us where those papers are or we'll finish you off,' demanded McKantor. 'We know she probably tells you everything, you can't kid us. You're probably her lover.' 'How shocking, how absolutely disgraceful of you, Mr. McKantor. Your mask doesn't fool me. After all the Greenfields have done for you, you should be ashamed!' "McKantor poked him with the cattle prod and Hopkins fainted." 'Gag him,' Rostov ordered. 'Then get some ice and bring him to. I'll get some good wood chips.' * "Awake since before dawn and observing the sharks, it became obvious to Dexter Scoggins that his dog and Miss Greenfield were in trouble. "Phenomenal, he kept muttering behind his dune, FEE NOM-ENAL!' His eyes bugging out as he watched the sharks fight over Straker's body... and remembered the many sights he'd seen peering out of dugouts in Vietnam....but never anything like this." "Suddenly he was over the top, running for the water, detaching his reconstructed foot and diving in. " * "Bleeding from a gash in my head, I felt numbness spreading through my brain. It was then I saw Scoggins, a knife between his teeth, swimming toward me. He's come to claim me, my confused brain thought... he's come to take us back. 'Hey boy, lemme help you, hey Scrapper!' Scoggins yelled, his eyes fastened on something behind me. "Turning, I saw grey fins slicing the water. Then Scoggins was beside me and I climbed on his back, pawing the air and hanging on to Rae's bathing suit with my teeth. A shark made a pass at us, rising about twenty feet away and jack knifing back. Just as we made it to the surf line the shark caught Scoggins' leg. Bellowing with rage, he wrestled the beast and drove his knife home. As I thrashed in the bloody foam trying to keep Rae afloat, I saw a thicket of fins cruising toward us. Rae and I were caught in the backwash but suddenly the ocean surged and we were carried on the crest of a wave and smacked down on the beach. The next wave brought Scoggins in, knife clenched, his thigh and leg spurting blood." 'You did good, boy,' he panted. 'Good Scrapper, you got her in... now lemme work on her.' "Dragging Rae's limp body up on the sand, he straddled it and put pressure to her chest. Water gushed out of her mouth. 'She's still alive,' he shouted, 'her heart's still beatin'.' Leaning forward, he fastened his mouth on hers and began breathing in and out. His barrel chest heaved and long, black hair hung in west strands down his back. "Just then, a big man with curly grey hair holding a pistol, marched down from the house, pushing McKantor and Rostov ahead of him. Hopkins staggered behind, gulping his words, while Crystal darted around them, barking wildly." 'There she is, sweetest girl that ever lived.,, oh my God, what's happened?' Hopkins groaned. "I nuzzled Rae and saw her eyelids flutter. 'She's comin' to,' whispered Scoggins anxiously. 'She's comin' to.' " "The grey haired man handed Dexter his pistol, motioned him to guard McKantor and Rostov, knelt down beside Rae and stroked her forehead. 'Oh honey,' he whispered, 'oh honey what's happened?' "Opening her eyes, Rae blinked several large watery blinks. A smile trembled on her lips. 'Mike is it you? Have I gone to heaven?' " 'Not yet,' he replied tenderly. 'Just lie still, honey.' "Glancing at Hopkins, Mike asked for towels, rope and bandages. Hopkins flew up to the house and back. 'Tie up these two characters, then bandage this young fella, he's hurt bad,' "As Mike wrapped Rae in towels she began to cry." 'Don't cry now, honey, every thing's going to be fine,' Mike said softly. 'I can't believe my eyes,' she sniffed, wiping away tears. 'You're here... oh Mike! What happened?' 'This young fella here just saved your life, that's what happened.' 'Not me,' said Dexter proudly, 'this here dog of mine, he done it. I saw it all. A guy in a wet suit swam out under the water from down the beach and tried to drown her. My dog, Scrapper here, he swam out and took that man on... never seed such a fight, not even in Nam. All I did was bring you two in but you had a close call, lady.' "Rae stopped crying and stared at Dexter. 'Did I hear you say your dog Scrapper? Who are you?' 'We didn't get your name, son,' Mike said. 'I'm Dexter Scoggins the Sixth, Sir, and them's both my dogs.' 'How can that be?' Rae protested weakly. 'They're mine.' 'No, they ain't, Ma'am. Him and his sister... they ran away from my farm - they're Scrapper and Bella. He's got a nick out of one ear and she's got a small white star under her chest where you can't see it. I raised 'em and trained 'em, they're outta the same litter.' "But I found them in an animal shelter near Highland, North Carolina and saved them from being ....' she faltered, 'you know, put to sleep." The stern expression on Dexter's face collapsed. 'I seen you with 'em on TV, Ma'am, so I hitchhiked up from North Carolina... had a helluva time a findin' you. Came by last night and figured it was too late to bust in on you so I slept in the dunes. That's how come I saw everything that happened.' 'Lucky for me you did, Mr. Scoggins,' said Rae, smiling wanly. 'If you hadn't I'd be lying at the bottom of the sea.' 'No, Ma'am, you'd be in some shark's belly.' 'I owe you a lot... guess you'll have to take your dogs if they're yours.' Dexter shook his head. 'No, Ma'am, they're yours now.' Rae's voice cracked and she broke into fresh tears. 'You mean, I can keep them?' 'Yes, Ma'am. I figure if this here lazy hound a mine cared enough about you to save your life, he's your dog now. And I wouldn't separate the two of 'em... they've always been a pair.' "Leaping up, Moon planted a big wet tongue on Dexter's cheek... embarrassed, Dexter wiped his face with a towel." "Suddenly aware there were others present, Rae pushed herself up on one elbow. 'Larsen, Dr. Rostov, what on earth is happening? What are you doing here tied up like that? Mike, tell me... what's that.' " 'A gun, honey, my gun... walked right in on these two.... had this poor old fellow Hopkins tied up and was ransackin' your house.' 'They were looking for Dr. Allen's papers,' Hopkins glared. 'That's what I figured,' Mike said. 'But, Mike, how did you get here?' 'Saw you on TV darlin', the night you talked about us... thought you might be needin' assistance so I jumped on my Harley and came up. Got bogged down in New York for awhile but I finally found you.' 'Larsen, Dr. Rostov, is this true? Were you searching my house?' Rae looked from one to the other. 'Did you tie up Mr. Hopkins?' 'Not only did they tie me up, Miss Rae, but they were about to torture me; had this thing that gave off electric shocks... Nazis they are!' 'Can this be true?' Rae gasped. 'It is, Miss Greenfield,' replied McKantor gravely. 'It was our duty to get those papers.' "Rae's eyes opened wide and supported by Mike, she struggled to her feet. 'Your duty to whom, may I ask?' " 'To the country, Miss Greenfield; to Science and our country.' Rae shot a glance at Hopkins. 'Did they get them?' 'No, Miss Rae.' 'Then go get them now and bring them here.' Rae looked around. 'I suppose Mr. Straker is somewhere around here too?' McKantor looked up and down the beach. 'He was... where could he have gone?' 'Oh,' said Rae. 'He must have been the one who pulled me under water.' 'If the guy in the wet suit was this Straker, he ain't here no more.' Dexter said, 'Scrapper here swam out and bit him... he started bleedin'. Sharks moved in... tossed him right up in the air and bit him clean through. It was phenomenal... I seen it all... deserved what he got, eh?' "Color drained from the faces of McKantor and Rostov as Hopkins returned with the packet of papers." 'Let Mr. Scoggins hold them, Hoppy,' Rae said. 'I'm going to burn them one by one right now. Mike, give me your cigarette lighter.' 'What about the Supreme Court?' McKantor cried, struggling frantically to get free. 'What about the President?' 'Let him go surfing.' Rae tossed her head defiantly. 'Miss Greenfield,' croaked Rostov, 'you're making a terrible, terrible mistake.' 'The State Department... the scientific community,' screamed McKantor. "The Russians... the Chinese ....' 'Let them roast in Hell,' Rae shouted furiously. 'always some excuse. Just because these crazy gangs go mad doesn't mean Americans must go crazy too. In case you weren't aware of it, Mr. McKantor, we Greenfields come from rabble, the rabble hired to throw the tea into Boston Harbor, the rabble who made a revolution and won it long before the Russian or Chinese Revolutions. Slavery is not part of our revolution. We know what slavery is because we were all bonded servants once and didn't like it and we won't have it here.' 'If you burn those papers you'll set scientific progress in this country back years,' Rostov snarled. 'Or someone else will do it....the progress of science is inevitable,' chimed in McKantor. 'Nothing is inevitable,' replied Rae. 'Any more than my drowning here was inevitable.' She knelt down to light the first of my papers. 'Rae,' said Mike quietly. 'You can't take the law into your own hands, it's not right.' Rae looked up startled, 'You mean, you think I'm wrong, Mike?' 'I don't know what's in those papers but it's not up to you to decide, is it?' 'They are the law breakers,' declared Rae, glaring at McKantor and Rostov. 'Breakers of natural law.' Just then, Hopkins looked up with a start and pointed at something in the sky. 'Look, what's that?' "Following his gaze, we saw a huge winged creature circling above. 'It's Ramu,' Crystal barked joyfully. 'Oh, Irving, look!' 'Grab those papers and run for it,' Ramu buzzed, beaming down his telepathic rays, 'Hurry, before it's too late.' "Creeping up behind Dexter, I delicately caught the sheaf of papers between my jaws and bolted. 'That dog,' screamed Rostov, 'Quick, he's got the papers... he's heading for the ocean. Somebody get him before it's too late. They'll be ruined.' "But they were all spellbound by Ramu who soared protectively over me. Racing up the beach, clutching my prize, I reached the water's edge, dropped the papers unceremoniously on the wet sand, stood on them with my front paws and ripped them to shreds. Moon bounded up, shaking the soggy bits and pieces as though they were live rattlesnakes. And as the last traces of Irving Allen were washed away into the thundering surf, I felt free at last, proud to be Julius D. Nibble and proud to be a dog."
"As the poet said"
© Elwyn Chamberlain 2009 |