The Life We Once Knew

I Met You, Loved You, Lost You, Repeat

One of Vera's favorite things to do was to go to the park just one block away from our flat. It was a large park with plenty of tree coverage and playground equipment. With all of the trees, the people inside were practically invisible. All I needed was a bit of luck and I could time it just right to where the park was practically empty. Fame didn't follow me to that park, so long as I timed it right.

I sat on the bench watching the one year old play in the dirt. She was never far from me, one quick jump and I would be on top of her. Yet, to her, she was free. She was out of my grasp and sitting in the grass all on her own. To a toddler, that was freedom.

"Mummy!" Vera called.

I glanced up from my book, "What is it, Junior?"

"Come look at my hole! It's really deep!"

I chuckled and closed the book. Slipping it into her baby bag, I shuffled over and fell to kneel next to her. She showed me a hole that I could barely fit my fist in but her face was filled with pride. I grinned, "Blimey, Junior, you've almost dug all the way to America."

"I have?"

"You have," I grinned, "Keep diggin' straight down and you'll pop out in New York."

"Really?!"

"Really really."

Vera gasped, "I wanna dig a hole to New York."

"Go on, then."

She gripped her little plastic shovel and began to dig the hole deeper, all the while muttering in her own little language. I sat back on my heels and smiled at her. Her overalls were covered in dirt and leaves decorated her hair, but it didn't matter. The smile on her face made any later cleaning job worth while. For a moment of pure joy, I'd spend six hours in the washroom trying to get the grass stains out.

A loud barking made both Vera and me turn to the nearby bushes. They trembled ominously, like the scene in any horror movie where the protagonists wait in anxious anticipation for the monster to jump out of the bushes. I found myself gently grabbing onto Vera as we watched the bushes begin to shake harder.

"What the bloody-"

I was unable to finish that sentence. At that moment, a large, hairy, English sheepdog erupted from the bushes. She galloped to us with legs like a horse and barreled into me. I tumbled head over heels with the dog landing on top of me. She pinned my shoulders and began to lick my face.

"Martha!" I shouted, "Martha, get off of me!"

I pushed her off and sat up. She wagged her tail. She seemed to be staring at me but it was hard to tell through her thick hair. Vera giggled and buried her fingers in the dogs' hair, "Martha!"

"Yeah, Martha," I mumbled, "What're you doin' here, girl?"

Martha only barked in response. I checked her collar to see that it was still intact, she hadn't broken it like the last four. Glancing around, I asked, "Are Jane or Paulie with you?"

"Uncle Paulie's here?" Vera asked.

I shrugged, "I dunno, Junior, how about we try to find them?"

"Uncle Paulie and Auntie Jane!"

I stood and picked Vera up. Placing her on my shoulders, I grabbed her baby bag and whistled, "Come on, Martha."

The dog obediently followed. She stayed at my heels through the entire loop around the park. All three of us looked for twenty minutes but there was no sign of Paul or Jane.

"Guess they went home," I scratched my scalp, "Surely Martha didn't escape from the flat."

For a dog to escape from the flat, she would have to get out the door, get in the lift, get out of the lift, and get past the doormen. The only logical solution was that Martha got away from Paul or Jane while they were walking her.