Things That Endure

Jace had just seen the greatest thing ever and he absolutely had to tell his Uncle Dave.

It felt like the first day of summer, Christmas morning, and the birth of his new baby brother all rolled up into one!

The day hadn’t started out well, but now things were looking up.

That morning, his mother had told him he must be on his best behavior.

“There will be no running around like a crazy person today,” she’d said while strapping on his fancy clothes.

He could hardly breathe in the straight jacket she’d buttoned him into.

Jace hated wearing fancy clothes. When you wore fancy clothes, you couldn’t do anything else.

Climbing trees was out of the question and you couldn’t jump in the lake.

There was no skidding in dirt, playing in mud, or riding bike.

All you could do was stand there stupidly like a living clothing rack, watching miserably as the world passed by with all the fun in life at the tip of your fingers yet impossibly out of reach.

He shouldn’t even be running now.

Surely his mom wouldn’t begrudge him when she realized what he had seen. She couldn’t have anticipated this when she told him to behave!

So much excitement and energy boiled up within him that he feared he might split at the seams.

When Uncle Dave knew, he too, would rocket off to the heavens buoyed by the power of pure joy. Kip was sure of it.

But the information was time sensitive.

He could see Uncle Dave through the random collection of heads, knees, and other body parts that rose up before him. There he stood in the distance, tall, bathed in sunlight, surrounded by admirers.

The man glowed.

You could see him from space.

Jace had to get there.

The crowd presented little difficulty to one of Jace’s stature.

His mom called him “knee high to a grasshopper,” whatever that meant. Adults had the irritating habit of speaking in riddles. Then they got all bent out of shape when innocent kids like Jace didn’t understand them.

What did they expect?

Besides, grasshoppers didn’t even have knees. Jace had spent a whole afternoon studying them in the woods behind his house. Grasshoppers had weird backwards elbows. Mom must have been thinking of elephants.

Knee high to an elephant would have been closer to the truth.

Suffice it to say, Jace was the perfect size for slipping through a sea of disinterested, adult limbs. He just needed to aim for a flash of daylight.

Gritting his teeth and clenching his fists, he leaned back on his left heel, and propelled himself forward, accelerating to full speed almost instantly.

Legs, shiny shoes, and high heels became a blur all around him. They could jostle, but they could not disrupt his focus. He bumped, juked and dived. He fell into the zone. It was a video game. He changed direction on instinct and lunged forward.

“What the?” he heard, but the voice faded into the background.

Those lumbering giants couldn’t catch me if they tried, he thought.

This he also knew to be a fact.

Children often had to flee adults.

Some of them were scary.

Some just couldn’t mind their own business.

Glancing up, Jace realized he had almost made it!

Only a few more legs to dodge.

Jace “faster than thought.”

Jace “messenger of the gods.”

Jace “the flash!”

He was a needle threading a line of chaos.

An explosion erupted in his wake. He skidded to a halt and risked a look. A waiter stood next to an absolute disaster. Bits of broken plates and busted h’ordeuvres littered the ground.

“Clumsy!” Jace thought, and he was off again.

A few more stumbles and flashes of color and suddenly Dave popped into reality like a planet before a ship emerging from hyperspace.

“Uncle Dave, Uncle Dave, Uncle Dave!” Jace roared like a siren.

Dave’s face broke into a smile, when a thunderclap rent the fabric of space and time.

“Jace! Don’t interrupt!” A scolding voice.

Drat! He’d angered an adult! How had this happened? Who had spoken? Jace glanced up.

A dour faced man in a brown suit glared down at Jace. His hair was wound up in tight curls that seemed to be trying to burrow into the recesses of his head. No wonder he was angry.

It was the dreaded cousin Richard.

Mom had warned Jace about him, she’d said his name like it tasted bad.

“He’ll probably try to pitch some shady business deal.”

Jace didn’t know what that meant, but he did know that if it came to a fight with cousin Richard, her dislike for him meant Jace was likely to emerge without consequence.

Still, he couldn’t afford any delays, it was best to right this sinking ship.

“I’m...” Jace began, intending to apologize, but Richard stopped him before he could get out the words.

“Shht!”

The dreaded “Shht!” Instant dismissal. Jace hated it! What was he, a non-human? Was he supposed to evaporate, was that it?

These power mad grownups with their lanky limbs...

They smelled bad.

Something about being an adult made them all stink.

Except Dave, and Jace’s mom, and a handful of others.

Richard strutted around, odor first, inflicting himself on the world.

The best course of action here would be to steer clear of Richard and go away. But the clock was ticking. Jace had to get the danger level down a few categories. He was in red. He needed a nice mellow yellow.

Yellow was good.

Nothing bad ever happened at yellow.

“I...” Jace insisted, but he was cut off again.

“Now, really, Jace,” and now Richard turned on Jace as he scolded. “Two adults are talking, and when adults speak you need to wait for them to finish without interrupting. Isn’t that right Dave?”

Jace looked at Dave, and his growing fear faded away.

Dave just glowed with kindness. Even Richard quieted.

“What is it Jace?” Dave said.

“Dave, er, I just...” Jace tried to speak, but Richard’s baleful gaze unnerved him. He peered at his dear uncle and saw encouragement. “I came to tell you there’s a big dog in that alley over there.”

“Ha!” Richard said. “What a waste of time!”

Jace’s spirits plummeted.

“What alley?” Dave asked.

Jace pointed.

Dave took a step in the indicated direction, but was stopped as Richard reached out to grab his arm.

“What are you doing? Who cares about some stupid dog?”

Dave pulled his arm away, and now his eyes sparkled with annoyance. “Don’t worry Richard, I’m sure the condo in Florida will still be available when I get back.”

Jace swallowed his temptation to flash Richard a triumphant look.

“Show me,” Dave said.

All at once Jace was running again, passing through the legs, and, much to Jace’s surprise, Dave was somehow able to keep pace.

A moment later, Dave knelt in a dark alley before a large Spaniel cooing, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?”

Jace watched, laughing. Out of the corner of his eye he caught the glimpse of an approaching commotion led by Dave’s wife Dawn. They’d been keeping an eye on Dave. Now they were coming over. It suddenly occurred to Jace that maybe Dave hadn’t been provided his full allotment of adult powers.

They probably told him not to jump in the river too.

“Dave!” Dawn called out. She was slender, tall, beautiful and the sunlight caught her just like it did Dave. Jace thought that together the two of them looked like ornaments on a wedding cake. It made him happy just to look at them.

Dawn was wearing a shiny, gold and light blue dress. All the adults were crazy about their formal wear.

“Keep this clean.”

“No grass stains.”

“No roughhousing.”

Give it a rest!

Uncle Dave seemed to have ignored or escaped those lectures. Now he was kneeling in the alley with the dog’s paws on his shoulders.

“Quit playing with that stray!” Dawn said.

“Who’s a good boy?” Dave replied... to the dog.

The dog flipped over to dance on his back, legs in the air, smiling and yipping like a puppy.

“Dave, we’re going to be late, come on, you have to stop!”

Now Dave was on the ground and the dog was hugging him.

“Dave, that dog was a snarling maniac two seconds ago!”

The dog licked Dave’s face.

“Dave, you’re in a rented tuxedo!”

Dave and the Dog boxed each other, Dave was kind of barking now.

“Come on, we have to go!” Dawn persisted. “Don’t you remember? There’s a wedding! You’re the best man!”

Then she burst out laughing.

For a moment there, Jace had begun to think Dawn was really mad. But all at once he realized that she was only playing a part.

Jace laughed too. His mom arrived, also laughing, and took his hand. It was good to see his mom laughing. Jace thought he caught a sense of relief there along with the joy.

“What are you smiling at mom?” Jace asked.

“Oh, it’s just that I used to be the one to tell Dave not to play with stray dogs in alleys.”

“I suppose that’s not your responsibility anymore, now that he’s married to Dawn.”

“You’re right.”

“So what do you do with all your free time?”

At that, Jace’s mom gave him one of those annoying pointed looks he didn’t understand.

Dawn threw her head back in mock fury, “David!”

Dave cast her a quick look to confirm she was still smiling, then turned his attention back to the dog.

Young, handsome Dave almost looked like a dog himself in the kind of wise, competent and noble way that dogs look. He looked like he would have been a really cool dog, like a pack leader, a responsible animal. But he also displayed a glint of mischief which revealed he knew when it was time to have fun.

Like right now.

The wrestling, yipping and barking went on for a few more minutes, and then Dave took a knee, gave the dog one last embrace, and rose to his feet. The dog threw Dave a nod, and then trotted off happily as if it had important business of its own. Dave turned on his heel and moved to join his family.

Dawn stepped forward and began gently brushing Dave’s arms, chest and back.

“I swear, you can’t resist playing with any old random dog you meet.”

“Nope,” Dave said. He winked at Jace, and then reached forward to tousle the boy’s hair.

“You were barking,” Jace said.

“A little.”

“Can you understand them? Dogs I mean?”

“Of course I can,” Dave said.

“Oh stop,” Dawn said.

“Well it’s true,” Dave insisted. “Dogs can communicate as clearly as any person, better than most. You just have to be willing to listen.” Dave’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Jace. “You’d be surprised at the life lessons you can learn from a dog.”

Dawn spent a few more moments tidying up her husband and Jace enjoyed watching her fuss about him on her high heels, sometimes halfway kneeling to pat at piece of dust or garbage that was clinging to his jacket or pants. She did a full circle and Dave remained helpless, and quiet; chuckling silently. Watching the two of them, Jace felt confident they’d be his enduring model for love.

When she was done with her care ritual, she grasped his arm tightly in hers and their eyes met.

“Can we go now?” Dawn asked.

“By all means, I’ve been waiting for you,” Dave replied.

She made a Oh, Dave! noise and Dave laughed and then they marched on and Jace and his smiling mom followed.

“He says he can talk to dogs mom,” Jace said.

“I don’t doubt it,” Jace’s mom replied, “we’ve always thought that dogs were Dave’s spirit animal. He’s part dog himself.”

*

Jace sat in the kitchen. It was a dark autumn day, months after the wedding. He’d just been told news that didn’t make sense.

When the phone rang, everybody knew that they shouldn’t answer. Sometimes people know when a tragedy has occurred.

In the end, Mom picked up. There came a muffled sound from the receiver, but she hadn’t said a word. Jace watched as her face went pale and she placed the phone back in its cradle.

Gently, she told Jace to go to his room. She used a tone of voice that he’d never heard before, and he didn’t even think about protesting.

Later, she’d come in, and now she was telling him that he wouldn’t be able to see Uncle Dave again. He could see that she’d been crying.

“What do you mean I can’t see him?”

“There was an accident.”

“What kind of an accident.”

“A car accident.”

“What kind of a car accident?”

Mom took a deep breath. Jace did too.

“There’s a stretch of road just north of Hayward that makes a long curve,” Mom said. “I’ve always hated that stretch of road, it always looks like the oncoming cars are coming right at you.”

“And Dave?”

“He got hit,” Mom said, “he saw it coming and managed to cover Dawn with his body.”

“Is she okay?”

“Yes, she’s okay,” Mom said. “But Dave is gone.”

Jace didn’t say anything, but the word lingered there in the room.

Gone?

How could Dave be gone?

Dave was too much. It’s not like he was a McDonald’s wrapper that you could just throw in the garbage.

Dave was a force of nature!

Jace could still feel Dave even as he sat there.

Dave couldn’t be gone.

Jace wouldn’t believe it.

He reached out for his mother’s hands, and she took him and they held each other.

Jace kept repeating the words in his mind.

Dave wasn’t a wrapper. Dave was a person. People didn’t disappear. People endured. Dave was still out there. He just had to find him. Dave would speak to him, he just had to learn how to listen.

*

A few months later, the neighbor’s dog gave birth to a litter of golden retrievers. Jace’s family had signed up on a waiting list to get one more than a year ago. Jace and his mom arrived to select a puppy, still operating on auto-pilot.

Everything was gray. It was as if the world had been trapped in twilight since the day of the call.

As they made their way into the room where the mamma played with her bundles of joy, Jace felt a strange sense of familiarity. Some color returned, like a long lost friend, and with it came the warmth of life. The sensation was like Christmas morning, and Jace hadn’t felt that way since the news.

Jace locked eyes with a puppy and a surge of electricity ran down his spine. He felt a calm certainty that banished much of his pain of loss.

All the other dogs ran up yipping and barking and wagging, but one sat and looked at Jace and smiled like dogs smile, and from that moment, Jace was blind to the charms of all the others.

The puppy had brown eyes and blond, curly hair that was somewhere between meticulously groomed and gloriously disheveled.

“There he is mom,” Jace said.

His mom glanced up and paused. Jace watched her. She straightened and made a surprised inhalation of breath, but didn’t say anything. She only stood looking for a long while, and Jace sensed her burden, too, had lessened. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft and calm as if she were talking to a baby.

“What should we name him?” she said.

Dave! Jace thought. Clearly that’s Dave, look at him, he’s come back!

And there he had it!

There was justice after all!

Miracles could happen!

Joy had been restored!

People did endure! They were more than just a wrapper!

But despite his excitement, Jace felt a tinge of trepidation, and he knew he couldn’t speak what he believed in his heart.

He imagined how it might go. Mom would look hopeful for a flash, her burden would ease, but then—the moment would slip away and she’d lower her head in denial. The harshness of adult thinking would descend upon her and the stress lines that had become so common would return to her face. They’d return doubly now, as if in punishment for daring to think she’d found an escape from her sorrow.

“Dave is gone Jace,” she’d say, even though the words would break her. “We have to accept that and move on.”

At best, she’d leave it there. At worst she’d make Jace say it too. He’d known her to show a stubborn commitment to the false axioms that defined “maturity.”

It’s time to grow up.

It’s time to be practical.

It’s time to accept the things we cannot change.

She might even insist that they select a different dog! That would be a disaster! Jace wasn’t sure that he could live with that. He couldn’t risk it. No, it was best to remain silent.

But was it wrong to keep this thought hidden from his mom in defiance of what he knew she believed? Well, she always told him to do one thing while demonstrating another.

Didn’t she say that good people were rewarded?

Didn’t she say that hard work pays off?

Didn’t she insist that she believed in fairness?

She said these things even though there was overwhelming evidence they weren’t true. She encouraged him to believe in many beautiful fantasies. She scolded him when he succumbed to despair and lost hope.

Well, what was the difference?

He needed uncle Dave. His mom did too, even if she couldn’t recognize the inherent magic of the world.

Maybe he could protect her from herself.

She would never say that Dave had returned.

And if Jace didn’t either, she wouldn’t have to deny it.

Dave’s presence was real, like Santa was real, like all the wonder and beauty that people tragically deny.

It was all real.

Jace saw it and felt it and knew it.

The dog was waiting, his head tilted sideways, a familiar twinkle in his eye.

Jace needed to come up with a name. He needed something that implied a long journey. A name that implied the dog knew things that the people around him never would.

Jace thought for a moment, and almost instantly the perfect name came to him.

“Scout,” Jace said.

Mom smiled, and Scout, as if he already knew his name, sprinted forward and jumped into the young boy’s arms. With love and enthusiasm he began kissing Jace’s face like a long lost brother, and even Mom laughed.