Dead & Gone (DARAGON)

Total eclipse of the heart

This couldn't be real. Those big brown
eyes couldn't possibly be looking at me.
I spun around to check the street. There
had to be a squirrel, or a cat, or some
other animal that must have caught his
attention. A jogger, maybe? Or a stray
Frisbee from the Brenners' front yard?
But nothing stood out. Nothing seemed to
be moving at all.

Well, that's weird.

I turned back to the window, and there
was Hamloaf, still sitting in the exact
same spot as before and still looking
right at me. He hadn't budged an inch.
His bright white chest was all puffed
out, and his head was cocked curiously
to the side. He sniffed the air and let out
a deep, uncertain woof.

"Hey there, handsome boy," I
whispered.

He tilted his head again in that
unbelievably cute way dogs do when
they're like, huh?, and I watched as his
tail began to thump gently on the floor.
This is not even a little bit possible.

I couldn't help myself, and slowly
reached out my hand toward the glass.

He jumped back and began to bark.

"Shh!" I said. "Quiet!"

His ears perked up the second the words
left my mouth.

"Good boy," I said, my eyes locked on
his sweet old basset houndy face. "Come
on, boy. Come on." I reached toward
him a second time. Let my hand come to
rest on the window.

Hamloaf went still. His tail stopped
thumping and he leaned in cautiously for
another sniff.

"Hammy?" I searched his eyes. But there
was no recognition. There was nothing.

He can't see me. Who am I kidding?

"I'm sorry," Patrick said softly from the
porch stairs. "I really am."

My hand fell back to my side. And I
began to cry.

"I'm so stupid," I said. "You were right.
I'm just stuck here forever and ever,
through the rest of this lame-ass eternity,
without any family, or any friends—"

"Um, thanks," interrupted Patrick.

"—or my boyfriend, or even my dog—"

"Brie, wait—"

"—until, like, my soul disintegrates or
the universe explodes—"

"Brie, look—"

"—or whichever awful thing comes first
—"

"God, will you LOOK?"

"Huh?" I looked up.

Hamloaf was scratching the window.
Right where my hand had been.

"Oh my god," I whispered. I couldn't
believe it. It was the only trick we'd
ever managed to teach him.

He's trying to shake.

Tears began spilling down my cheeks
and I let out a giant laugh. "You crazy
dog, you CAN see me!" For a moment,
all of the anger inside me melted away. I
jumped up, clapping my hands and
laughing my head off while Hamloaf
started barking and baying and spinning
in circles on the other side of the glass.

"Good boy!" I cried. "Good boy!"

He responded by leaping up and
furiously trying to lick the window.

Patrick shook his head. "I'll be damned.
Never seen anything like that."

"Hamloaf, no barking!" I heard Mom
yell from the kitchen. "Who's at the
door?"