Tenderly, I lay his head on the sheet. Then I pick up his body. In death he is much heavier and I have to grunt to lift him. Once he is in my arms it is easier and I lay it next to his poor head so that both halves of him are joined.
Then I lay down beside him. ‘I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,’ I whisper again and again as I hug his cold, hard body. The guilt is terrible. I wasn’t here to protect him. I was out having a good time. I should have been here. If I had only left him in Baba’s room. I even thought about it and then I thought no, he might bark when I call or make a noise and wake Papa.
So I didn’t leave him in her room.
He must have had a premonition. No wonder he whimpered and cried when I left. And I still left. I close my eyes and grit my teeth with regret.
I kiss the top of his head. I kiss his closed eyelids, and I hold his elegant bloodied, little paws. The pads used to feel soft and warm. They feel hard, rough, and cold. When his nose touches my lips it is dry and not wet with life.
I sit up and look down on him. It doesn’t feel real. It can’t be real. My mind is blank. I can’t think. It is my fault. Poor Sergei. I cover his remains with the sheet and go to open a window.
Fresh morning air rushes in.
I think of Sergei running free in the park. I think of Sergei licking my face. I think of Sergei as a puppy hiding under the bed when he heard thunder and how I had picked him up, holding him in my arms, taking him to the window to show him that it was just a storm. There are no tears. I am too shocked to feel anything. Not even anger at my father.
I think of my father. How could he? He brought Sergei home for me. Having said Sergei always hated him.
I sit in my room hunched, confused, and immobilized with shock and horror, until I hear Baba come up the stairs. Then I run to the top of the stairs and she stops mid-step.
‘What is it?’ she asks, her hands roaming my bloodied clothes and hands.
‘Sergei is dead,’ I say.
Her reaction is instant and shocking. She goes white and her knees buckle so that she has to tighten her hold on the banister to stop herself from falling. She closes her eyes in pain. I run down the steps to where she is and take her hand.
‘It’s okay, Baba. It’s okay,’ I tell her, even though I want to lay my head on her chest and bawl my eyes out.
She catches my hand. ‘How?’
I shake my head.
‘Show me his body,’ she demands suddenly.
I shake my head vigorously. ‘No, don’t look at him, Baba.’
‘Is he in your room?’
I nod, because I am suddenly so choked up I cannot speak. It’s the strangest thing, but while I am standing there with Baba, part of me doesn’t believe that Sergei is actually dead. It’s more possible that this is all a nightmare or a mistake. My brain can’t comprehend that it could be real. He can’t be gone. Just like that. It almost feels as if all I have to do is let my grandmother into my room, and she will not find my beloved dog cut into two pieces and wrapped up in a sheet.
Baba starts up the stairs, her face determined, and I follow.
I stand back as she opens the door, and for a few seconds just stands at the doorway. Then she walks towards the covered cloth and I go into the room and close the door. The air is freezing cold because I opened the window. My eyes fall on the sheet stained dark red.
That isn’t my Sergei under there. He’s gone.
I watch Baba get onto her haunches with difficulty, and lift the sheet. Silently I watch her sigh deeply and let the sheet drop back down. Then she looks up at me. Her eyes are totally blank and her face is like stone. I have never seen my grandmother look like this before.
‘My son is a monster.’
I don’t say anything. My eyes sting and my throat feels as if there is a stone in it.
‘Whatever you want from me, just ask,’ she says.
I swallow the stone. It goes down hard. ‘Come for the funeral.’
Thirty
Tasha Evanoff
See You Again
I’m afraid I fell apart after inviting my grandmother to Sergei’s funeral. I ended up in bed crying like a baby. She arranged everything. She got a white pet casket delivered inside of an hour. It has a cross etched on the lid and it is satin lined. She put his favorite toys and blanket into it. She ordered flowers. White roses. She invited the staff to come.