A Nest of Nightmares

Finally she had all the dolls together, and she stumbled to the door and closed it, leaving the light still burning in the attic. For safety she pushed her chair in front of the door.

Then she went to bed, arranging all the dolls around her, lying down, falling asleep sandwiched by their small hard bodies.

She may have dreamed, but she never woke as they began to move closer to her in the night, and she didn’t see the crumbs of plastic that fell from Elizabeth’s open, hungry mouth.

COMMUNITY PROPERTY

Ellis had to drive, which meant that Susie got to hold Gonzo on her lap. He hated her for that, among so many other reasons. He felt close to tears at the memory of Gonzo’s plump, furry little body, the warmth of him, the sudden tension in his skinny legs when something outside the window caught his attention.

Ellis didn’t want to lose his dog. Most of all, he didn’t want to lose his dog to her.

The house, community property, would have to be sold. The car was his, and he would keep it along with his hunting rifles and stereo system. The dishes, records, and furniture had been, with the help of the lawyers, divided fairly, even if neither party was entirely satisfied. But how did you divide a dog? Unthinkable to sell him, as if Gonzo were no more than a piece of community property like a house or a television set. Equally unthinkable for either Ellis or Susie to give the dog up to the other. It was impossible, and humiliating, to imagine custody of the dog granted to one and only visitation rights to the other.

His lip rose in a sneer. Visitation rights, with Susie laying down the law to him about when and where? No thanks. Once the divorce was final, he intended never to see the bitch again.

‘Don’t hold him like that,’ he said without looking at her. ‘Let him put his head out the window.’

‘And have him jump out after some other dog and get hit by a car? Christ, you’d love to hang that over me, wouldn’t you?’ Her voice was dry ice.

‘He wouldn’t jump out. He’s a smart dog. You always underestimate his intelligence. He’s wiggling like that because you’re squeezing him.’

‘Just watch the road, would you? And don’t talk to me.’

The animal clinic came in view, and with the sight of it his heart seemed to freeze. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. He wanted to touch Gonzo, to roll him on the ground, to pull his ears, to scratch the white patch on his chest.

He thought of Gonzo as he had first seen him: a patchwork scrap small enough to fit in one cupped hand. There was a lump in his throat and the taste of salt in his mouth. He couldn’t go through with it.

Susie let out an ugly snuffling whimper as he turned the car into the parking lot, and the lump in his throat dissolved. Listen to her – you’d almost think she was feeling something.

‘We don’t have to do this,’ Ellis said, putting the car in park but leaving the engine running. ‘Just say the word.’

‘Say the word and let you take him, you mean.’ Her voice was strangled with tears. ‘Hell, no. If you’re so big-hearted, you say the word and I’ll keep him.’

‘This was your idea in the first place,’ Ellis said, and it had been. It was a horrible idea, too. But he could not bear the thought of seeing her win, of losing Gonzo to her. He could stand to lose, but not to see her win.

She said, speaking for them both, ‘I’d sooner see him die than see you get him.’

‘All right,’ he said, and switched off the car.

Gonzo understood where he was now, and began to struggle in her arms.

‘You’ll drop him. Let me carry him inside,’ Ellis said, reaching for the writhing dog. Susie clutched Gonzo more tightly and backed away. Driven by a feeling of unfairness – she’d got to hold the dog all the way here – he followed, but she fled to the doorstep. With bad grace, but not wanting the people waiting with their pets inside to see him struggling with his wife, Ellis opened the door and let her carry the dog in.

‘We have an appointment,’ Ellis said to the receptionist. ‘And we don’t have time to wait all day.’

‘Um, what’s the problem?’ The receptionist was young and seemed intimidated by him.

‘We’ll tell that to the vet.’

Blushing, the girl went to find a vet.

Gonzo had stopped struggling, but he was trembling violently now, and the whites of his eyes showed. A temporary truce went into effect between husband and wife under the watching eyes of all the other pet-owners present, and they both stroked Gonzo, their hands occasionally colliding, and murmured words meant to soothe him.

‘Dr Blake will see you,’ the receptionist said when she returned. Ellis had never met Blake before – a young man, he was presumably new to the clinic.

‘What seems to be the problem?’ he asked, his manner a nice mixture of cheerfulness and sobriety.

Silence for a moment, neither husband nor wife wanting to be the one to say the words. Finally, setting his jaw and hating her for making him do it, Ellis said, ‘We want you to put our dog to sleep.’