Apollo's Gift

Cool metal rests gently against my back as I patiently wait by his side. I feel a firm grasp against the bar and glance up; I see his pale and calloused hand on the soft handle of the harness. I know it is time. Carefully, I guide him towards the door, ensuring that he doesn’t lose his balance. He lifts his other hand and I nudge it gently until it touches the brass doorknob.

“You ready, Apollo?” Henry asks. I answer gleefully – though by now he should know my answer like the tunes he often sings with the radio. He gives a chuckle as he turns the knob and I push open the screened door. I lead him across the front porch and down the creaky wooden steps to the sun-warmed gravel. Bright sunlight spills over the clovers that line the drive; their sweet scent tickles my nose as the wind dances through them, mingling among the familiar fragrance of Henry’s aftershave. My nose pushes the latch on the gate, allowing it to swing open as we head right.

For most of my life, we’ve shared these afternoon walks; I’ve always looked forward to them…and Henry does too. I remember in my youth, trying to resist the squirrels that chased one another among rust-colored leaves that coated dying grass. Once in a while, he would let me go – just once or twice. They’d darted to the safety of their tree branches, and chatter with yips of anger, and I’d respond with boasts of victory. Henry would laugh from the walk where I’d left him, and I would prance back over, haughty and proud.

Henry pulls me back to the present with a soft tug on the bar, and I know I’m walking too fast. I slow a little, allowing him to set the pace. Passersby glance our way, smiling warmly as they bustle down the concrete walk. On the asphalt beside us, cars of various sizes and colors roar as they pass one another, spouting foul-smelling fumes from their ends. But they never venture too closely, and Henry’s never paid them much attention. My glance flickers in his direction, and my tail wags briefly as I look back to the path ahead.

We cross the bridge over the creek, and loud splashes sound from below; two men – one grown, the other small, raise a silver line from the water, the fish flopping against the water’s surface. The boy beams at the other as they throw the fish into the tin tub. My gaze lingers for a moment, the breeze rustling the trees and I catch the scent of raw fish and wet leaves. Feet scuffle through loose leaves and grass, and my ears prick as a squirrel skitters to the base of the pear tree. It plucks a freshly fallen fruit from its base, examining it quickly before scurrying up to a leafy branch near the tree’s top. Sweet juice dribbles from the fruit as the critter nibbles the soft flesh, and my gaze drifts from the pear tree. I look ahead again, walking in time with the scraping of heavy-soled boots against the pavement.

Not far after the bridge, the concrete bends, and I follow it, guiding Henry all the way. The road has calmed, a few cars soaring by occasionally as we reach the hill; I slow down for Henry as it slopes upward – his health is not what it once was, and I can make out his soft but gasping breaths. At the top of the hill, I catch the scent of old ham and spoiling eggs, and Henry heaves with relief.

“Let’s go see Ralph, eh, Apollo?” Henry asks, and gladly, I guide him to the old diner on the street corner. Cautiously, I lead us across the street before the resting cars, and into the dusty gravel parking lot. Henry lifts his hand and I nudge it to the door handle; the knob twists and he pushes the creaky wooden door open. A little bell jingles as it opens, and inside the fragrance of cooking grease and burnt bread already engulfs the dining room.

“Hey, Henry!” the man behind the counter booms loudly. “And hello to you, too, Apollo,” he adds as I guide Henry to the bar. Ralph is tall, with skin much darker than Henry’s. Bright eyes and white stubble around his chin stand out against dark features. Calloused hands wipe down the bar with a stained white rag as he walks towards where Henry and I stand. Henry sits and releases the harness bar.

“’Doin’ alright today, Ralph?” Henry ask as Ralph pours a cup of coffee.

“Doin’ just fine,” he replies. “Hope ta hear the same from yaself.”

“Just the same as always, thanks to Apollo here,” Henry says, offering a praiseful rub.

“Say he’s treatin’ ya right, eh?” Ralph replies with a chuckle. “How ol’ is Ol’ Apollo now?” He walks to the stovetop, and back around to the counter; I sit, and he gives me a piece of crispy and slightly scorched bacon. I bark in delight at the afternoon snack; and moment later, he sets a bowl of water nearby. I lap up the fresh liquid, the cool fluid splashing around my tongue.

“Oh, about six, I think,” Henry says, placing a hand on my head as I sit beside him. “Been with me for a while now, I forget how long.”

“Been wit’ ya since ya sta’ted comin’ here,” Ralph howls loudly with laughter.

“Yeah, I couldn’t get out much before he came along,” Henry said. “Not after I lost my eyes.”

“Yeah, I know,” Ralph replied. “Mighta come here once ‘fore then, but I don’ remember. Guess it’s a good thang he come along, huh?” He walked over to the grill and picked up another piece of bacon with blackened edges. “Catch, Apollo!” he says, slinging the snack my way. I jump, catching the greasy morsel between my teeth. It crunches in my mouth, salty pieces coating my tongue. I slurp another sip of water and walk across the freshly-swept hardwood floor.

Ralph and Henry’s voices echo throughout the diner as I lazily slouch to the floor. Some time passes, the occasional jingle of the doorway bell stirring me – and reminding Ralph to get back to work. He takes their orders as they enter, and within minutes, the thick scent of marinated beef and deep fried chicken coats the diner in a delicious perfume.

As always, we bid our farewell when the crowd picks back up for the next rush. Rehydrated and our bellies full, we crunch our way back across the gravel lot where several cars sleep soundly as their owners enjoy Ralph’s food. Finally, feet tread on sun-warmed concrete once more. We pause at the corner where Ralph and I always cross. The creatures rush past, and I don’t dare move until they are resting again. They stop, and I take a step forward, but hesitate; something doesn’t feel right. They’re stopped…there’s nothing to worry about. And yet, this feeling…

“What’s the matter, Apollo?” Henry asks worriedly. I hesitate a moment longer, but take another step out onto the pavement. In the distance, I hear high-pitched squeals and sirens. I hesitate as they get louder, the screeches just beyond the hill. After a moment, the commotion comes into view: a black car bounds down the hill, a wild beast weaving across the pavement. Quickly, I guide Henry back to the sidewalk. He says something, but the words are muffled by my racing heartbeat. My eyes are locked on the charging monster as it barrels to the curb of the sidewalk and jumps up onto the walkway.

Suddenly, I realize it – Henry is right in the path of the vehicle. I hesitate, eyes darting for an escape, but the cars roaring through the opposite direction block any path. The gap closes; it isn’t slowing, doesn’t seem as though it will veer. In an instant, I twist, ripping the harness bar from Henry’s grasp and throwing him backwards into the clover by the sidewalk’s edge.

Pain splits through my body and I’m thrown into the intersection of the open road. My eyes won’t focus and the sounds around me are muffled. Nearby, I hear the tires scream against the pavement and the sirens grow louder. My panting slows as I weakly lift my head. Henry is now standing on the corner; a younger couple is helping him, but he keeps saying my name. With no strength left, my head flops to the baking asphalt. Footsteps thud emptily nearby and the faces of strangers flicker between blinks. More tires screech as the sirens die out, leaving only flashing blue lights rippling through the air. Henry’s worried voice drifts to my ears once more, and suddenly, it’s all I can hear.

He says my name, apprehension laced between the two words: “Where’s Apollo?” My eyes gaze upward, taking in the blurring brightness of the clear sky. The blissful summer sky begins to fade to nothing. But the dim aroma of clover-blossoms and dandelions lingers for just a moment longer.