Читать книгу The Story of Lilly & Lou: Based on a true story - Doriane Lucia - Страница 8

Part of me knows it’s time to get up and start the day and the other part of me hopes that this is just another dream. Maybe it’s really Saturday. My head feels heavy with sleepiness. I’m not sure if I can lift it off the pillow. One eyelid tries to hoist itself up so I can see the clock on the nightstand. Just as the neon numbers come into focus telling me that it’s 6:15 a.m., I feel a cold, wet nudge against my arm and I sense two eyes staring at me. How did she hear my eye open?

I finally manage to open both eyes and I see that Lilly has her front legs on the bed, and she’s stretching her little body as far as she can. My dog Lilly has a black muzzle with some gray in it and brownish, red fur on the rest of her petite body. She has huge, pensive brown eyes. Lilly practices yoga upon awakening. This morning her eyes seem to say… I’ve gone outside and taken care of business myself, I did The Downward Facing Dog, and I’ve been waiting patiently since 6:00 a.m., so do you think you could please GET UP ALREADY? We need to see what’s going on out in the world. Come on, Alicia, carpe diem; let’s seize the day.

By now, Lilly’s brother Lou has joined the morning ritual. Lilly and Lou look almost identical except that Lou is twice as big as Lilly. They both have thick fur and curly tails. I run my hand through Lou’s coat and in my fogginess I reach for my jeans, slide them on, throw on a tee shirt, grab both leashes, yell to Mom that I’m leaving and we’re off. I get to look at the tall trees against the clear sky. When Lilly and Lou sniff each morning it’s like they’re getting the morning news. If I pull them away mid-sniff, it would be like someone yanking a book out of my hand just as I get to the good part. I can almost see Lilly thinking, Hmmm, smells like the huge white poodle has been by. Now Lou runs over to get a whiff.

We go a few more yards when Lilly stops in her tracks for another sniff story. This one takes her awhile to decipher. She sniffs more and more, leading us further up the road. I think I know what’s going on in Lilly and Lou’s heads or maybe I’m superimposing my own thoughts on them. The important thing is that I know enough about dogs to know what they need each day. Suddenly, that cute puppy, Duke, comes our way with the guy who acts like he’s walking a tiger. There is a huge choke chain around the cheerful little puppy, and the guy tugs him and shouts orders. “Sit. Stay. Heal.” Just as Duke is getting a good sniff and trying to greet us, the drill sergeant yanks the dog away and doesn’t let us visit. But Duke always seems hopeful that one day he’ll get to stop and play with us. Both Lilly and Lou look at me and I imagine they are thinking … we love our life.

The three of us venture to Aroma Café. My mom lets me get breakfast there two times a week and today is our day. We love Aroma Café. Everyone there is so friendly to me and especially to my canine companions. We enter my favorite patio area where bougainvillea is bursting with bright pink flowers.

There is always a table filled with people who work on movies. There’s a nice teenage girl named Cynthia with long brown hair who always says hi to me. She told me she’s an intern working with her brother Howie who is a really cool camera man. He rides his motorcycle here. Then there’s a lady with jet black hair, usually wearing big hoop earrings and colorful makeup. Actually, she is a hairstylist and makeup artist for actors and then there’s an older man who looks like the director of the group. They always have someone new sitting with them. It’s like an early morning club. Lilly and Lou have become very popular with this group so I make sure to pass by so that everyone can pet and greet them. “Hi, Lou. Hi, Lilly,” they chime in like a chorus. Finally, someone says, “Oh, hey, Alicia. How’s it going?” I feel like a special part of their club. Lilly and Lou love Aroma because everyone dotes on them.

As usual, Aroma is jammed. At first glance, there are no tables available. While I’m putting in my order, I see a table for two open up and I grab it. As I’m waiting for my number to be called so I can pick up my food, a lady walks towards me. When it’s crowded, strangers at Aroma will share tables. This woman is wearing an enormous lime green hat. The rim is so big; I think a flock of birds might build a nest on it. Her lips are bright red and shiny, and she’s wearing a dress with big flowers on it. I can’t figure out if she is talking to herself or singing. I wonder if she’s a little crazy or maybe just eccentric. I wonder if she is some over the top actress. The thought repeats in my head. Please don’t let her sit at my table; please don’t let her sit with me… She walks right past the movie people and clearly has her sights set on the empty chair at my table. What if people think she’s my mother or my friend? I look to see if the cool movie people are looking at me. I smile at them and see them laughing. I wonder if they’re laughing at me.

I hear my mother’s voice in my head. “Alicia, don’t judge a book by its cover.” Now, her voice is getting louder inside my head. “Remember how judgmental people were when your father had to wear that neck brace after his car accident? They weren’t very nice and you didn’t like it at all.”

Suddenly I was snapped back into the present when bird head lady moved right next to my table. I looked at my book and feigned interest when suddenly I heard a proper English accent. “Oh what beeaaauuutiful dogs you have. Wow, I didn’t know there were so many vowels in the word beautiful. “What kind are they, love?”

“I really don’t know,” I tell her, “maybe Shepherd mixes. I found them in a park in New York City.” The lady’s cherry red lips press together tightly and her forehead crinkles up. “Did you say you found them in New York City?” she said, puzzled.

“This is the only empty seat in the house. Do you mind if I sit here?” Do I really have a choice … I thought to myself … I wish you would sit anywhere other than here. But she seemed like a decent person and she expressed interest in the two beings in my life besides my mom and dad, who are closest to my heart, my dogs Lilly and Lou. I better take my mom’s advice… I thought and then said aloud, “Sure,” trying to hide my discomfort. She sat down and sipped her latte.

“My name is Ina. Can you tell me more about these sweet looking and very well-behaved dogs?”

I extended my hand to her. “Hi, my name’s Alicia. Well, do you know New York City at all?” I asked.

She smiled as if my question made her happy. “Actually, I do. I moved here to Los Angeles from the Upper West Side of Manhattan about five years ago.”

“Wow,” I said. “My mom, dad and I used to live on the Upper West Side too!”

I had never heard someone say no quite like this lady. “Noooooooo, what block?” she asked.

“Ninety-Seventh and Central Park West.”

She started to laugh. “My darling, I lived on Ninety-Fifth Street and Central Park West. I probably walked right past you on more than one occasion. Did your parents live there for a long time before you moved here?”

“After my parents got married and decided to live in Manhattan, they looked at apartments, but they were very expensive. My dad was a Professor at NYU and my mom was going to school for her Master’s degree in social work. They were excited when they found our apartment because the building had subsidized housing for people who didn’t make a ton of money.”

Ina nodded. “Yes, I remember when those buildings turned into condos and got doormen and fancy lobbies. Your parents were lucky. While I loved that they revitalized Central Park and made those buildings look nicer, they also converted one of New York City’s best jazz clubs, McHales, into a drab eating establishment.”

I laughed and said, “My parents complained about that too!”

“So, please continue. You said you found these dogs in the park?” she asked.

“Some lady threw them out of her car.”

“My heavens. I’ve never heard of such a thing. How awful that a person would abandon their pets in such a manner.”

I see Lilly and Lou hunker down and get comfortable, and they both look like they’re rolling their eyes and thinking … Oh boy, here she goes again, she’s going to tell this lady the whole doggoned story about us, get that lost look in her eyes likes she’s in some sort of trance, get sad, then happy and then she’ll be rushing to get to school… again.

Every time I start telling the story of Lilly and Lou, I feel as though it happened yesterday. I begin to tell Ina what happened… The morning of February 3rd I could not wait to get to Riverside Park with my dog Bella. It had just snowed again and I knew that Bella would love to play in the snow. Even though we were right next to Central Park, I liked Riverside Park better. It reminded me of the country. Since we didn’t have a country house, I would pretend that the park was the backyard of our country cabin.

I loved the blanket of snow that covered all the trees, the old fashioned lamp posts and the view of the Hudson River. But what I especially liked about Riverside Park were the people. There were so many people who let their dogs run and play safely; away from other people.

I always feel sad when I talk about Bella because she died not too long ago from a condition she had her whole life. But it makes me smile to think that my Doberman Boxer mix, Bella, was rescued from a junkyard in the Bronx. We had so much fun together despite her medical problems. She had short hair and would shiver if she got too cold. But it didn’t stop her from wanting to go out and play in the snow. We bought her a fleece jacket to keep her warm and cozy. She was always ready to romp.

Bella would get so excited watching the snow fly up in the air as she jumped in it. I would throw snowballs and she seemed confused when she tried to catch them. The snowballs would fall apart in her mouth unlike the firm toy balls she could hold in her muzzle.

We were having a great time. It was a perfect February day like many we had had before. Suddenly, out of nowhere I noticed two dogs running aimlessly through the snow. I looked around to see who they belonged to, but nobody was close by. I saw a woman walking briskly ahead of me. She was bundled up in a coat that looked like a sleeping bag with a hood. Her face was down to protect it from the wind. I caught up with her and asked her if she knew who the dogs belonged to. She said rather sharply that she had no idea and then picked up her pace even more.

I tried another person. “Excuse me sir, but do you know who those two dogs belong to?” I asked.

“Sorry,” he replied, “I’ve never seen them before.”

I started to worry because nobody seemed to care about these stray dogs. The cold snapped at my face as I ran around trying to get people to stop long enough to answer my question. People in New York City tend to walk quickly but on that day, everyone seemed to be speeding to their destinations because it was about to snow again. I couldn’t understand why nobody seemed concerned. I looked back to where I had first seen the dogs. They were gone. I turned and looked everywhere. I ran here and there, spinning and looking and rubbing tears off my face with my mittens. So many thoughts ran through my head, like, where could they go in this freezing cold and were they lost or did they run away from home and why didn’t they have collars on. It was starting to get dark and I knew my mother would be worried if Bella and I didn’t get home soon. There was nobody left in the park. I strained and looked everywhere when in the distance I saw one last person. He was far away, and I probably wouldn’t have seen him if he hadn’t been wearing a puffy, orange parka and a striped scarf that was wrapped around his head and neck. I picked up my pace to reach him.

At this point Bella looked like she had had it and I’m sure she would have preferred to return to the warm apartment, but I insisted she pick up the pace.

“Bella, don’t forget your puppyhood. These dogs need help just like you did when I first met you. We have to help them.”

Bella walked faster and I knew she understood. Because people were so disinterested up to this point, I was shy and scared to talk to the guy with the striped scarf.

As I got closer to him, I realized that it was my mom and dad’s friend Brendan who lives in my building. He’s a funny guy and is always beatboxing so I gave him a stage name.

“Mista B, I’m so glad to see you.”

“Hey, Alicia. How are you doing?”

“There are two dogs running around the park who have brownish red fur. One is small and the other medium sized. Have you seen them or do you know their story? They don’t look like they belong to anyone.”

Brendan stared at me with his kind, misty green eyes. I’d never seen him sad before. He said, “Those dogs have been out here for days.”