\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1420604-The-Life-of-Riley
Item Icon
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Animal · #1420604
A story about love, redemption and overcoming your fears. One of my earlier efforts.
                                            The Life of Riley


         She stared out at the bleak landscape that was the view from her apartment; her home, her sanctuary, her prison. She didn't understand why most people disliked rainy days. The grey sky was like a soft fleece blanket; comforting her, protecting her. The dreariness was like a reflection of her inner mind, the universe commiserating with her pain.

         Jane Trenton had not been out of her apartment in two months, not even to get her mail. Mrs. Paulson, upstairs, was nice enough to bring it to her when it got too full for her mail slot. Her neighbor had only needed to do it once so far, and there it sat, on Jane's kitchen table, as pristine as when it was delivered. Jane didn't care. Like her life, her mail contained no surprises.

         Jane laughed at the word 'life'. The humorless laugh turned into a strangled sob. She had no life. At 53, she could lay claim to nothing more than being a carbon-based life form, and a widow. Nothing wrong with that though. Jane knew that there were worse things in life than being widowed at the age of 50.

         After 30 years of marriage, the nicest thing Daniel Trenton had ever done for his wife was drop dead of a heart attack. Dan had been an abusive man from day one. He had bullied her into dating him and ultimately, sleeping with him. Then, her father had finished the bullying. It was a shotgun wedding in every sense of the word, right down to the actual shotgun. Jane's father was not taking any chances.

         Somewhere, along the line, Jane fell in love with Dan's dark good looks. At least that's what she told herself, and her son when he begged her to run away.
She wasn't afraid that Dan would follow them. He didn't care enough. It wouldn't take him long to find a new punching bag. No, Jane was afraid of what she had always been afraid of, being alone.

         Now, she was just that. She was as alone as a person could be, and she hated it. It frightened her, it depressed her, it paralyzed her.

         She looked around her prison. 'All the comforts of home.' Thanks to a sizeable bit of life insurance, and the money that Brad sent her every month, she didn't want for anything.

         She ran her finger through the layer of dust covering a Tiffany lamp. 'She really should do some cleaning,' she thought.

         Not today though, she was too tired - so very tired. She scuffed her way to the bedroom, sat on the edge of her unmade bed and kicked off her slippers. Jane lay down on the rumpled sheets and closed her eyes. She let the nothingness slide over her like a wave over a tropical shore.



                                                          II

         It was so cold here. He was wet, lying on the cold, hard, ground. He stumbled blindly until he hit an obstacle. Then, something warm and wet ran the length of his body from head to tail. He shivered with pleasure. After a few minutes of ecstasy, something cold nudged him forward. He kept prodding until he found it. Food! He ate with enthusiasm, bumping against other wriggling bodies with the same intent.

         Time passed, he had no idea how much. Eating, sleeping and eating again, cuddled against the warmth of his mother's body. Occasionally, she would go away. That was the worst. He and his siblings would huddle together for warmth, never quite succeeding.

         Finally, she returned. She dropped to the ground in front of them. Something was different this time. She didn't smell right, something was wrong. He moved closer to her, desperate for her heat. Then he slept.

         When he awoke, he was very cold. He could feel his mother beside him, but there was no warmth there. He opened his new eyes and looked through a fuzzy haze at his bleak surroundings. Everything was very big and dark. He looked at his mother's still form. Her warmth was gone, even her smell was starting to fade.

         He looked around at his litter-mates, stumbling around aimlessly. One of them began crying. The sound escalated to a high-pitched whine. In moments, they had all joined in the chorus.

         More time passed, until he heard noises in the alley. Approaching footsteps accompanied  the sound of voices. The puppies went silent, gathering around their mother's stiff body.

         "Well, well. She wasn't a crank after all. Look at these guys, aren't they cute?"

         "Yeah! They must be freezing though. It's not even 10 degrees out here. From the looks of it, the mother's been dead for at least a day. Poor thing."

         "It looks like she got hit by a car. I'm surprised she even made it back here."

         "What should we do with them?"

         "Let's take the puppies back to the squad. We can call DOP to pick the mother up. I think I have a box and some blankets in the trunk."
         
                                                            III

         Something woke her up. She lay there for awhile without moving. Jane had no real desire to get up, but then, sleep was not the respite it once was. Her body was sore, probably from Dan's relentless beatings. It was difficult to find a comfortable position.

         Sleeping alone was not a problem. Even after 30 years, she had never been comfortable sharing his bed. She would lie there awake, night after night, while he slept the sleep of the damned. Now she was making up for lost time.

         Jane flexed her sore muscles, one after the other. She winced as a sharp pain shot down her right arm. She should probably see a doctor, but that would mean leaving the apartment.

         The sound was faint at first, slowly increasing in volume, until it was loud enough to convince her that it was not just her imagination. It sounded like some kind of animal, more than one, actually. She walked to the window overlooking the alley. There, amidst a pile of debris, she spotted some movement. It was a puppy. 'What was it doing out there? It was much too cold. It would freeze.'

         She started toward the door. She stopped, with her hand on the knob. Her heart was beating like a runaway horse and there was a ringing in her ears that obscured everything else. Jane pulled her sweaty hand back.

         She had to do something! Jane reached for the door again. As she grasped the doorknob, her body began shaking uncontrollably. Her breath came in short, labored gasps. She released the knob as if it were electrically charged.

         Jane stumbled, on shaky legs, to the phone. Flopping into the chair, she weakly grasped the receiver. She hit 911.

         "Hello, emergency," the disembodied voice said. "Is this a fire or police emergency?"

         "Puppies," Jane choked out.

         "I'm sorry Ma'am. What is the nature of your emergency?"

         "Puppies. They're freezing. In the alley. Please send someone to get them!"

         "Ma'am. This is an emergency number only. Get the puppies to a warm place and call animal control."

         "I can't! Please help them. They're in the alley near Broad and Summer Street. Please!" She put the receiver down and went back to the window.
         
                                                        IV

         "Oh! They're so cute!"

         "Where did you find them?"

         "In the alley off Broad."

         "Where's the mother?"

         "Dead."

         "Probably a stray."

         "Don't think so. She had a collar."

         "Who'd dump a pregnant dog on the street in this weather, and so close to Christmas?"

         "Not Saint Nick, that's for sure."

         "What are you going to do with them?"

         "I'm taking one home for my kid. Anyone else want a Christmas puppy?"

         A few hands went up around the room. "Okay! Problem solved."

         A large hand lifted him out of the box. "Alright little guy. You're coming with me."

         They went to a warm place filled with delicious smells. A small person came running into the room.

         "Dad, did you bring me something?"

         "Sure did!"

         "Oh Boy, a puppy! Thanks Dad!"

         "Okay, but this is a big responsibility. It's your job to take care of him."

         "Sure Dad. I will. I'm gonna call him Major."



                                                            V

         Christmas came and went like any other day. Jane looked out on the festive lights. They made her feel more desolate than ever. Christmas, New Years, Birthdays, they were just mile markers in this race called life. She hadn't asked to run, but she'd have to finish nonetheless. The sooner the better as far as she was concerned.

         The phone rang, making her jump. The sound was alien in her quiet apartment. She stared at the phone as if it were alive. It was probably just a telemarketer. She let it ring; six, seven, eight times. She snatched up the receiver, just to silence the incessant racket.

         "Hello."

         "Mom, it's me."

         "Brad."

         "Are you alright? It took you a long time to answer the phone."

         "I'm fine dear."

         "Good. I'm just calling to say Merry Christmas. Sorry it's late, but December is a crazy month at work. Did you get the present I sent?"

         "Yes dear. Thank you." Jane looked at the brightly wrapped package on the coffee table.

         "If you don't like it, you can exchange it. I left the receipt in the box."

         "That was very thoughtful dear."

         "Would you like to come for a visit Mom? I could send you a ticket."

         "Thank you dear, but I'm much too busy."

         "Okay. If you change your mind, just give me a call."

         There was an uncomfortably long silence. "Well dear, thank you for calling. I really should go now."

         "Okay Mom...I'll talk to you soon...I"

         She hung up the phone before he could finish. A plane ride away - Jane laughed to herself. He could be across the street, it wouldn't matter. He might as well be on Mars. She loved her son, but not even that love could coax her out of her apartment.

                                                            VI


         The weeks and months passed. Blake lost interest in his puppy.

         "Blake, I told you. Major is your responsibility."

         "Dad, it's not my fault. He doesn't listen to me."

         "Well, if I don't see a change, and quick, Major will have to go."                    
         He lay there, listening to the exchange. Although he was still a puppy at heart, his body had grown. He tipped the scale at almost 50 lbs, despite the fact that the boy frequently forgot to feed him. He was a bundle of energy just looking for an outlet.

         The next day, the people went away.

         "Blake, put Major in your room. I don't want him getting into anything while we're gone."

         The boy forgot to take him for a walk first. The dog waited patiently for their return. He was hungry and thirsty. He started to bark. Still no boy. He scratched the door until wood chips and carpet fibers flew everywhere. Still no boy. He jumped onto the bed, ravaging the pillows and stuffed animals. He was like a mad dog, destroying books, games, videos, whatever he could sink his teeth into.

         He heard a car door. It was them. His people. He ran to the door, waiting expectantly.

         "Blake, I don't know how you could have forgotten to feed or walk Major. You knew we were going away for the day."

         "Poor dog," his mother said.

         "You were yelling at me to hurry up. I forgot." Blake opened his door, and Major came rushing out. "Oh man! Look what he did to my room!"

         "I don't care. Take him out right now. Then I want you to feed him. After that, we are going to have a talk."

         "Stupid dog," Blake muttered as he hooked Major's leash on. He gave it a vicious yank, dragging Major out the door. When they were out of sight of the house, Blake gave Major a hard kick. "You ruined all my stuff, you stupid dog." Blake swung his leg back to strike another blow, but Major backed away, pulling the leash from the boy's hand. "Get over here you stupid jerk." Major kept his distance as Blake approached. The boy stooped to pick something off the ground. Major turned and ran up the street and away from the only home he had ever known.

         He ran until his paws were bloody. Sliding under the gap in a chain-link fence, he was suddenly yanked backward. He panicked - fighting ferociously. But there was no enemy, only the leash that held him a captive of the metal fence. He lay there, exhausted. Eventually, he heard voices.

         "Hey, it's a dog!"

         "He's stuck," laughed one of the boys.

         One of them stooped to grab a rock. The boy threw it, hitting him hard on the flank. The other boys joined in.

         "This is better than breakin' windows," one boy yelled.

         The dog backed away, but was held fast by the leash. He came forward, growling, but the boys just taunted him, staying well out of reach. Finally, he just lay there, letting the rocks bounce off of him.

         "Hey, it's the cops."

         "Let's get out of here."

         "Oh man. Look at this poor guy," the officer said.

         "Did you recognize any of those punks?"

         "Nope. Quick, let's get this guy to a vet."

         The dog was too weak to resist. They put him into a car. Then they put him onto a cold table. Finally, they threw him into a steel cage. He just lay there, waiting.

         "I'm looking for a guard dog," the man said.

         "This one is at the end of his stay," the animal control officer said. "He's slotted to be put to sleep next week if no one takes him. He's a little banged up, but nothing's broken."

         "Okay, he'll do."

         The dog was taken to a dirt place and tied to a small house. There he sat, day after day. The man brought him food and water most days. When strangers came, he would wag his tail. This made the man angry - angry enough to beat him.

         The days turned into months and the seasons passed, but his world didn't change. His skin became sore and his fur fell out. He just lay there, waiting.

         He was cold and wet most of the time, but he was beyond caring. Then the snow began to fall. The dog watched the warm lights glowing inside the house, and dreamt of a soft, warm bed.

         The man came out, looking angry. "You're useless as a guard dog. You never bark. All you do is wag your tail at people. You're useless. You're going back to the pound." The man reached for his collar. The dog backed away in fear and the lead snapped. He was free. He ran as fast as his sore body would take him.

         "You stupid mutt, get back here dammit!"

         The dog ran through the snow that settled on the festive holiday lights. He was so weak. He stopped when he sensed something familiar.

         It was his alley, his first home. He wedged himself between some boxes and lay down, exhausted.

         "You stupid mutt! I may just kill you myself, save the city some money." The man picked up a board and approached him.

                                                            VII

         Standing in the harsh bathroom light, looking at her reflection in the mirror, Jane wondered where her youth had gone. She had never been a great beauty, but not like this.

         She ran her fingers through her dull black hair. Her complexion was a warm mocha, but her skin had gotten slack and brittle. Her eyes, though, her eyes were the worst. The warm brown orbs had always been Jane's best feature, now they were flat and dead.

         Christmas was just around the corner. As if it mattered. The lights decorating her street looked dull and lifeless. Everything she looked at seemed to be covered by a gauzy haze.

         She sat on the edge of her bed, trying to work up the enthusiasm to take a nap.

         The sound was faint at first. It was a low keening, coming from the alley. She went to the window. There, in the gloom, stood a man holding something in his hand. He looked tense, angry. Jane was all too familiar with that look. It was the one Dan got when he was working his way into one of his rages.

         Her eyes followed the man's stare to a dog lying huddled in the shadows. This was another look she was painfully familiar with. It was the look of fear.

         Jane's hand clutched the curtain, crumpling the material in her small fist. The man stepped forward. The dog shrank deeper into the shadows.

         She felt it immediately. It was the proverbial stick, breaking the camel's back, the last ounce of water that forces the floodgates to open. Without hesitation, without thought, she turned and charged out of the apartment, racing down the stairs like a madwoman.

         Jane stepped into the alley like an avenging angel and threw herself at the man's back. She leaped at him, pummeling him with her small fists. The man dropped the board in surprise and covered his head with his hands.

         "Hey lady! Get off of me!"

         Jane wasn't finished. She continued to pound his back and shoulders. "Get out of here you monster! Get out!"

         The man spun around, holding his hands up in supplication. "Look lady, take the damn dog. Just leave me alone." He backed up to the entrance of the alley and disappeared.

         Jane stood there, catching her breath. Slowly, the realization of what she had done crept in. She looked around at the view she had only seen through her window for the past year. Her breath caught in her throat. Jane's heart beat started to accelerate until she heard a whimper from behind her. The dog! She rushed over to where he lay on the snow covered ground.

         "Well boy. You look a little worse for wear, but I think we can get you fixed up."

         He nudged his nose into the cup of her hand.
         
                "What do you say? Would you like to come live with me?" He licked her hand. "That seems like a yes to me. You can be my Christmas puppy. How does that sound?"

         He shoved his head under her arm.

         "Okay. But you need a name." She looked at his collar. "Rover? No that's not you at all. How about Riley?"

         Riley immediately perked his head up and barked.

         "Okay then. Riley it is."
         
This is my new website, tell me what you think. http://www.marchbooks.com/

The beauty of the written word is in the emotions they evoke. Hate my characters or love them; as long as your feelings are genuine and run deep.
If I have succeeded in making you feel something, I have succeeded as an author.
My blog http://www.itsasadworld.blogspot.com/  My website http://furrytails.mysite.com./

** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **

** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
© Copyright 2008 4theLoveofWriting (marchbooks at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1420604-The-Life-of-Riley