The Primal Flower, Chapter 8

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Eventually…

An excerpt:

I waited for Lily’s father to return home. “Rescue must die soon,” I blurted out, “but I do not know how to put him to his end.”

“Mercy will dictate,” said Lily’s father. “Mercy always dictates. How do you know your dog is sick to death?”

“Your brother says so,” I accused.

Lily’s father went over to Rescue. Rescue was suspicious of Lily’s father, but was not afraid of him. He did not wag his tail, but he did allow him to pet him, lifting up his head to receive a fine scratch on the chin.

“Yes,” said Lily’s father. “It is so.”

Pain came into my body at his word. “Is it because we let him outside in the rain?” I asked.

“No. Probably not.”

“Then why?” I was fighting tears, but these tears were not for my damn dog; they were for a host of spirits and immaterial effects and clouds and fogs that floated in me according to an unseen will, a will that was intent on pressing against my will, with an ability to touch nerves deep in my insides so that my mouth opened with nonsense, nonsense that was perfectly sensible when my dog was now dying and would die for a long time. I wanted my dog to come with me, to chase after butterflies and squirrels, to alert me to comers and goers, to be beside me at night, and to be a general companion, even if Shur-qa-hil was the guide. The trip north was for me and my dog. Me and my dog! My dog and me, who had no home, together, homeless, free, and far away.

Who loved Shur-qa-hil? That horrible, fat, corrupt, know-it-all, pompous, hairy monster!

“Rescue has lived his life a happy dog,” said Lily’s father. “As we all live our lives happy dogs.”

“Happy dogs!” I shouted.

“Our Father in heaven teaches us mercy by giving us dogs to care for. Did you ever make a slave of your dog?” he asked, being patient with me.

“No.”

“Did you let him do what dogs do?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Did you clean him, feed him, tend to his hurts, pet him, tell him he was good, and otherwise take care of him?” he asked.

“Yes. For the most part,” I said. “I liked to just let him run around.”

“What more are you hoping for your own life?” asked Arret. “Do you desire mercy when the end of your time comes?”

More pain came into my body. Couldn’t the end of my time come very soon? Lily came into the room. She had been napping. Her face was flush with the awakening of recent sleep. I did not answer.

“Show mercy to your dog,” said Lily’s father, “and your Father in heaven will show mercy to you.”

John David Duke Jr » Podcast is made with Jetpack Podcast. Full show notes and every episode at https://johndaviddukejr.wordpress.com/