Read Emily Kimelman - Sydney Rye 02 - Death in the Dark for Free Online Page B

and returned to sleep.
    First we learned voice commands. When Blue moved from my left to my right in time with my calls, Merl made us do it with a whistle and finally silently- with only the motion of my hands to lead us. Soon our morning jogs included Blue running figure eights around me (“Circle,”) retrieving sticks (“Boomerang,”) or taking that stick to the right (“Blue Out”), or the left (“Brown Out”). We used the color of Blue’s eyes as directionals because for the life of me I could not keep track of my left and right sides.
    “Blue Out.” Stick in mouth, Blue dashed up a dune and when he reached the top barked at me until I called him back (“Come”), or gave one long whistle, or held my right hand to my heart. He’d come racing across the sand, his teeth gripping the stick and a look of pure determination on his fuzzy brow. I grabbed it from him and Blue leapt around me filled with excitement. “Good boy, yeah, that’s my good boy.” I launched the stick into the sea and Blue dashed after it. Merl’s three looked at him, and with a nod of his head, they joined Blue in the surf.
    “He’s an amazing dog,” Merl said as we watched Blue pumping through the water toward the stick, the three Dobermans close on his tail.
    “Yeah, I got lucky.”
    “You both did.”

 
     
     
    THE SCREAM
     
     
    I woke up before the sun. My body felt stiff. Surprisingly, I wanted to go for a run. Consider my transformation complete, I thought as I stepped out into the hazy morning. Blue was overjoyed by my new need for speed. He circled me, letting out a bark of approval. It was as if he was saying, “See it’s fun to run.”
    The sand was cool on my bare feet and the sun turned the sky and sea into the perfect heather grey as I trod along. My breath came easily, no panting and wheezing for me I thought with a smile. I felt strong. Really strong, like ‘I could take on the world’ strong.
    As the sun rose bringing a pink flush to the sky my pace stayed steady. Blue and I ran where the sea and the sand met. Occasionally, I stepped into the gentle surf feeling a cooling tingle through my whole body as the chilly waters engulfed my feet. The beach curved around the shape of the land. How long had this been like this, I wondered. Did the shore line change every season as storms blew their powerful winds and slapped the beach with crashing waves or would the Mayans who originally inhabited this land recognize its topography?
    Around the next bend we ran past a construction site still in the early morning light. It was one of those condo projects that promised the good life in the sun. And while I hated to see the land churned and the cement poured, I hoped that the people who moved here found peace and happiness. There was no place better than this for them to have a chance.
    When my legs began to ache and my lungs swore they could take no more, I turned us back toward the oyster farm. Thoughts of a fresh breakfast with eggs and refried beans filled my mind as I pushed toward home. And home was what it was, I realized. In all my blind pain, pathetic misery and plain alcoholism, I’d managed to find the perfect place.
    I slowed to a walk and felt the sun hot on my face. Blue jumped into the water and splashed out past where he could stand. With only a moment’s hesitation I followed him. The water was cold and sent goosebumps spreading across my skin. It was the sweetest contrast to the heat burning through my muscles. I took a deep breath and dunked under the surface. Pressing my eyes closed, my hair floated off my head cooling me from tip to toe. I heard Blue barking through the crackle and shushing of the sea.
    Coming up for air, I swam out to where my feet dangled without a bottom to touch. The ocean undulated around me guided by the moon and the wind. Blue’s head cut through the crisp sea; swimming parallel to the shore, he steered toward the farm and I followed in a gentle breast stroke. Gulls cawed