The Light Between Us

A Light in the Dark-5

Light from his front stoop stretches across the narrow path leading up to Bret’s house. At the edge of the yard, I hear Darth Vader barking incessantly in the kitchen where he is kenneled.

I help Bret inside, lay him on the couch, and cover him with a heavy afghan. Then I let Darth out to do his business, and when he is done, we meander back into the house. Before he ambles towards his doggie bed, I sneak in a few scratches behind his ears. But before he crawls into his kennel for the night, I whisper to him, “I think you deserve an apology, my friend.” I wander into the living room with Darth at my side. I squat by the corner of the couch next to Bret. I gently touch Bret’s arm and rouse him. His eyes flutter open and he looks at us, wide eyed and spooked. I say calmly, “Bret, I think your best friend here deserves an apology tonight.” He mumbles, rubs at his heavy eyes, and looks over to where Darth sits obediently beside me, his tail thumping against the floor.

I watch Bret close his eyes, then open them. He stares up at the ceiling. Silently. Then he turns to us, and reaches out to pet Darth on his head. “You’re a g-good dog, Darth. Sorry, buddy.” And he leans in and kisses the dog on his wet nose.

“Good enough,” I say. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

I take Darth back to the kitchen. I’ve missed the days of dog sitting for Darth when Bret and his mother went on summer vacation. I crouch in front of the cage door and make cooing noises at the dog. He whines, one large paw over the other, as if asking me to let him out. He sighs heavily, and his eyes start to close for the night. Come morning, I will be back to check on him again.

“Goodnight Darth,” I say and lock the back door behind me. I drop the house key in the mailbox outside.

Philip waits for me on the porch.

I am still in my bathrobe and a stiff cold breeze creeping up my bare legs reminds me where I am.

“Are you still thinking about pressing charges on that dirt bag?” he asks.

I look up at the inky sky. It is too cloudy for stars tonight. I look at Philip, a tall glass of Bourbon I would like to drink.

“No.”

“No? But he broke into your house tonight, Chris.”

I rub my arms to ward off the chill and step off the porch. I stand inches from the sheriff’s face and shake my head. “No.” He is attractive with his dark facial stubble. I smell his strong male musk along the stirring wind. I add, “He’s a troubled young man.”

Philip exhales and throws up his hands as if surrendering to my nonsense. “More reason to charge him.”

“He needs help, Philip.” I look away, to the ghostly outline of oak trees enveloping us. “I’ll talk to his mother when she comes home. I’ll pop over tomorrow and talk to Bret about his behavior.”

“Do you think that’s wise?” There is a warning in his voice.

“He grew up fatherless. His mother was always away on business. He fended for himself. You could even say he raised himself.” I am beginning to feel sorry for Bret Hicks, given his poor living conditions and upbringing.

“But it doesn’t justify his behavior.” Philip’s remark is stinging.

“You’re absolutely right. But I also know that that young man needs positive role models in his life. And those kids he hangs out with are bad news. They’re violent and do drugs. Besides, it was out of character for Bret to hit Darth. His apology tonight sounded sincere.”

“So are you going to be that young man’s mentor?” It comes out half-mocking, half-unyielding.

“Philip.” I hear myself whining and I hate it.

“Hey, I’d love it if you were my mentor. I could learn a hell of a lot.” He slides his arm around my shoulders and we walk toward my house.