Fleeting journey

wrote this on the fly. Figured i hadn't written in a while. Enjoy.

   

              The thick wall of snow flurries assaulted the windshield as my car pressed on through the storm.  “One more night.” The receptionist at the front counter of my hotel half pleaded with me. “The storm isn’t supposed to last that long.”  I didn’t trust meteorologists, and I was homesick enough that raining fire couldn’t keep me from making the five hour trip.  “There’s a chance it could get worse too.” I explained.  “Besides, Bram here is getting antsy to sleep on his own couch.” I knelt down and pet my mutt of a dog to signify some sort of imaginary feeling he might share with me. 

                It wasn’t easy to find a hotel in Saranac County that allowed dogs, but then again, it wasn’t easy to find anyone who could say no to my traveling buddy.  The receptionist had given the two of us a warm smile as a parting gift, along with the weekend’s bill.  Looking back, we probably should have shelled out those extra hundred dollars.  Instead, Bram and I wrestled with the increasing lack of vision, and the slick iced over roads.  After an hour of driving the snow and wipers became a rhythmic lullaby which, if I had not been so well rested would have provided another obstacle for our homeward journey.

                I listened eagerly to the radio for any news of a break in the storm in vain, and before I knew it, I wasn’t so much as driving the car as I was hovering my foot over the brake.  Even with every precaution considered, the slamming against my car was too unexpected to react appropriately, and the car went careening off the road and into a large pine.  Everything went from snow white to pitch black.  I don’t know how long I was out, but the next thing I knew I was covered in a thin blanket of snow next to the wreck.  Bram sat beside me eagerly waiting, loyal and diligent as always.  Something wasn’t right though, something didn’t make sense.

                “How did I get out of that wreck?” I asked allowed without any expectation of an answer. 

“Wasn’t easy” a voice replied much to my surprise.  I looked around, still dizzy and disoriented, but saw nothing.  All that was around me was the tree, the wreck, and Bram. “Step closer.” I said, a little louder now as a gust of wind and snow caught me right in the face. 

“How close do you want me Frank?” the voice replied. I was stunned at the response.  The voice seemed so familiar, but I knew I had never heard it before.  And I certainly couldn’t see anyone I knew, or at all for that matter.

“Where are you?” I asked, unable to mask the nerve in my voice.

“Right here.” The voice replied.  It had come from Bram.  I was stricken stone still. 

“I’m dreaming or I’m dead.” I said after a long time of sitting in the snow staring at my dog.

“You’re not dreaming Frank.” Bram replied. “Not  really.  And you’re not dead either, not yet anyway.  But we gotta get out of here if you want to stay that way.”  

“You can understand my alarm at the moment I’m sure.”  I said, disregarding my dog’s warning entirely in an attempt to get some sort of rational answer, though I suspected none.  “Am I crazy?” I asked

“How about this” Bram replied. "let’s get you out of here, and you’ll get an answer. Deal?”

I couldn’t bring myself to argue, now that the dizziness had subsided and the biting cold became prominent.  “Well how do we get out of here? The storm is getting worse.  I can’t see the road.”  I felt myself becoming frightened with these realizations as I spoke them, and I was uncomfortable enough having a conversation with my dog, let alone realizing that if we did not get out of here then he would be right.

“Don’t worry Frank.” Bram said in a surprisingly reassuring tone.  “I won’t let anything bad happen to you if I can help it.  Follow me.”  And so, with no other rational alternatives, I did as Bram said, and followed him into the increasingly bleak white.  We walked for a long time before I felt comfortable enough to speak to him again.  “Will we speak again after this Bram?” I asked hesitantly, not knowing if the answer was something I even wanted to know.

“I don’t think so Frank.  Not for a while anyway.”

“Then why are we now?”

“I guess because it’s necessary.  Can I ask you a question Frank? Since I have the chance and all?”

“Sure I guess I owe you that.”

“Why is it when we play fetch sometimes you don’t actually throw the ball?”

I laughed in spite of myself and the situation.  “I guess I thought it was funny.” I replied.

“It was confusing.” Bram countered very matter-of fact.

“I’m sorry Bram. I won’t do that anymore I promise.”  Bram didn’t say anything for a moment, and although it was hard to say, I could have sworn there was a look of concern on his face, or as concerned as a dog could look before he spoke again.

“Can I ask something else Frank?”

“Sure” I replied as we trudged through mounds of cold powder, now a bit more comfortable with the scenario.

“It’s actually more of a favor, and it may sound kind of strange.”

“Couldn’t get much stranger Bram I assure you. Name it.”

“Just don’t forget about me okay?”  His voice seemed as concerned as his face did as he made the request.

“I could never forget about you Bram.  You’re the best dog I could ask for. And if that weren’t enough, now I’ll always remember that I talked to you, if only in a very dire situation.”  I smiled in reassurance, and it seemed enough for him.  We walked for what seemed like hours, constantly changing directions, never passing any landmarks.  As we trekked on the snow got deeper, and it was harder for me to push on.  I was getting tired, but Bram seemed persistent enough for the both of us, and on more than one occasion circled me and nudged me with his nose.  “Don’t give up Frank.  You have to keep going.  Fight it Frank!” He insisted. “You can do it.”  The wind grew stronger over time.  The cold became near unbearable and I was frequently losing my footing. It was as if the storm was devouring me.  But every time I felt myself slip or falter, I could feel Bram press against me, his fur in between my fingers and that oddly familiar voice.  “Fight it Frank! You're almost there. You can make it.  Don’t stop now Frank!” I kept pushing myself to limits I never knew I had. At some point I wasn’t doing it for myself anymore, but for Bram.  Loyal and faithful Bram, who even now, in my most trying moments was by my side.

                I must have been getting sick because the white began to hurt my eyes, and the dizziness came back in the form of a splitting headache.  “You’re almost there!” Bram said encouragingly.  Before I knew it I was blinded by white, enveloped in an aching feeling.

“Bram?!” I shouted out.  “I can’t see you anymore! Bram!”

“It’s okay Frank.” Bram’s voice said assuringly. “You’re gonna make it Frank.” I could still feel his fur in between my fingers.  Everything started getting warmer now. I heard Bram once more, his tone soothing and comforting.  “Just don’t forget about me Frank.  Please don’t forget about me.”

                My eyes snapped open.  A strange man in medical scrubs stood over me, alongside my wife and my mother. The latter two had tears in their eyes.  “What happened?" I muttered, my voice dry.

“Thank God."  My mother said. "They found you unconscious in your wrecked car in a snow bank.”

“What the hell were you thinking driving through that storm?!” My wife demanded choked up from holding back a cascade of tears.  “It’s a miracle you’re even alive.”

“Where’s Bram?” I asked.  “Where’s my dog?”  A look of pity crossed the faces of everyone in unison.  I tried to get up but the nurse stopped me with a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Relax Frank.”  He said. “You’ve been through a lot.”

“I just want to see Bram.” I insisted.  “Real quick. I’ll be okay just let me see my dog I want to make sure he’s okay.”

“Sweetie.” My wife said in an endearing tone.  “Bram didn’t make it. They found him dead in the wreck.” I could feel the color in my face drain.

“I’m so sorry Frank.” My mother said, placing a hand on my shoulder. They couldn’t even pry your hand away from him when they pulled you out; you’ve been clenching some of his fur the whole time you’ve been out.” I looked down at the handful of bloody fur matted to my palm with sweat. The room went blurry. “Bram.” I sputtered.  Loyal, faithful, Bram.

I sat on my porch for a long time with a dirty, chewed up tennis ball on my lap, staring at the tree I’d buried Bram under.  It was dusk, and twenty four hours later.  Finally I stood and walked over to the plot.  "This is yours old buddy." I said allowed as I dug up a small amount of earth and placed the ball inside. I stood in silence for a moment, immersed in the quiet of the oncoming night, before I covered the whole back up. It was the last time I spoke to Bram.

Reviews

[Adrian X Fuentess]

As a human to my dog Charlie, I can never imagine losing him. Every time I sneeze, he runs to my aid. When I laid sick in bed, he spent the whole two days laying with me. This is heartbreaking, and very well written. I enjoyed the flow of the words. Very unexpected ending, but I wel done.

[stellasautelle]

So good! Very well written :)

[AK]

Beautiful!

[Christina May Shanaberg]

Aw, this is so sad. This is a beautiful man and his dog story. I could stop reading it. It just really drags the reader into it.

This was a wonderful short story!

[JCP]

Wow, honestly there is rarely anything i read on here and am overly awestruck by. This is a first. Really good story. I can't say I read another like it. Love the comedy aspect of the "fetch" conversation, in a generally heart wrenching story. Really good idea that flowed really well, from start to finish. Bravo buddy! Bravo!

[M.E.Lyle]

I liked the story. The way you describe things makes you feel a part of it. I can almost imagine myself trudging through the thick snow; cold and tired. And I loved the perspectives coming from the point of view of a dog. We don't really know what they're thinking. How do they feel about us fake tossing a ball?

[k87]

m not sure if i like ur story but i love ur writting style..good one..!

[nostal]

I say, old bean, i am astonished by your claims. But tell me, is it true fact, or clever ruse?

[shoaib]

wow ... a sad story but really well written
great job with this