SR let the tears freely flow from closed eyes as he felt that warmth-- so much more than a mere physical sensation-- emanating from the saintly vixen he was holding in his arms. Oh God, he thought, I would die to keep her alive. For period of time SR was unable to measure, the two remained firmly locked in each other's arms. Sometime during the song, their tails had also become intertwined. Each was clinging to the other as if that person was their last hope for happiness. When the music finally faded from their ears, neither made a move to undo their mutual embrace. SR opened his eyes, and saw that Anne, too, had a sincere and lasting smile on her lips. SR looked over the bay, gently resting his head on top of hers as she leaned lightly on his chest. After a time that by conventional measurements was long, but in SR's opinion, much to short, Anne raised her head, the smile disappearing from her face. She looked at SR and spoke, the vodor approximating a whisper. "What do we do now?" SR looked into her eyes, the smile that had momentarily disappeared returning to his face. "Well, Ms. Dog, would you like to jump together, or would you like some help in your awful rowing to your island called God?" She never even looked confused for a moment. Returning the smile, she countered, "Let's don't give up. 'cause I believe there's a place... there's a place where we belong." SR smiled so broadly that he unconsciously bared his teeth. "Before we go there, let me find someone who can help clean up the red rain on your face." Again, Anne returned the joyous expression on SR's face. "Only if you can help silence the judge and jury in my head." SR let go of Anne to turn and slide off the railing, onto the street. He turned and knelt on one knee, offering his right paw to the vixen. "All you do is call me. I'll be anything you need." Anne turned around, taking SR's right paw in her left. "It looks like I'm on my way-- I'm making it." As she slid off the railing onto the sidewalk, her knees faltered and SR was forced to lunge forward to keep her from falling. The smile vanished from his face. "Uh... Anne? Seriously, let me carry you-- you've lost a lot of blood!" She frowned. "No. Please. I can manage. Where did you want to go?" SR shook his head, worried, but with one claw indicated the side of the bridge opposite the direction from which the steam was still rising from the church. "Mercy Medical Center is about five blocks that way." Anne swallowed, then took SR's right paw in her left and began walking determinedly in the direction SR had pointed. This caught him off guard, and he stumbled for a moment to catch up. When the pair reached the side of the bridge, Anne slowed the pace, and SR thought that maybe her strength was going out again. Before he could say anything, though, Anne spoke. "Mr. Foxley?" "Anne, please, call me SR." "OK. SR? I just realized-- I don't have any medical insurance." SR was a step ahead of her on this one. "Don't worry about that. I've got enough money to pay for your stay in the hospital for as long as it takes for you to recover. And in case you're also worrying about a place to stay once you're out, if you don't want to stay at a shelter, then my apartment is available to you. It's certainly not large, but it's at least big enough for two. Please-- I don't want you to worry about anything right now. Let's just get you to the hospital, then we can start worrying about that stuff." Anne squeezed SR's paw. "Thanks. Thanks a lot." "Don't thank me just yet. Based on how some of my other former friends have fared, you may end up cursing this day." She smiled at him as they walked. They made it another half-block in silence. Then... "SR?" "What?" "How can I help you?" "What???" Anne stopped, forcing SR to look her in the eyes. "I wasn't the only one about to take up residence with Davey Jones about a half-hour ago. You're helping me more than you know, right now. How can I return the favor?" SR blinked, mouth slightly agape. After a moment, though, he caught himself and began walking in the direction of the hospital again, pulling Anne after him. He was deep in thought, staring at the pavement. Finally, a block later, he spoke. "I suppose there's really not a whole lot you can do. I mean, I guess my biggest problem is that I feel like God has stacked the deck against me. Every time I think I'm doing the right thing-- that I've finally found him and what he wants-- he swamps my boat and almost makes me drown. And I'm sick of it! I don't want to bail or tread water anymore. I guess I was on that bridge to end it all before God had another chance to destroy me. Can you help with that?" It was Anne's turn to immerse herself in thought. Finally, "No, SR, I can't. I can't give you a new life or heart. I can't give you faith. I can't give you trust in God. I can't tell you that everything will be OK in the end. I can't tell you that you won't ever have to row for your life again." She stopped. "But maybe-- maybe He keeps capsizing your life because you're looking for Him in all the wrong places. Maybe I can help you there. Maybe I can show you the way to Mercy Street." SR tiredly raised his eyes to look into Anne's. He was seized with awe at what he saw there-- her eyes seemed to sparkle with a radiating light and heat. And for an instant, he really could see the doorway to a thousand churches. His eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. In her eyes, he saw the resolution of his fruitless searches and the completeness there he had never been able to find. Her gaze unwavering, her vodor spoke. "Let me show you that place where we belong." With that, she gripped SR's paw and weakly began pulling him in a direction that did not lead to the hospital. Mouth still agape, SR dumbly followed for several paces before he came to his senses. "Anne! Wait! I really do want to see whatever it is you want to show me, but more than that, I want to make sure you live to see the morning! Please-- Let's go to the hospital first!" She stopped and smiled, turning. "OK. But you have to promise me that you'll go, with or without me." "For whatever it's worth, you've got my word that after you're safe in the hospital, I'll not rest until I've gone wherever it is you want me to go." This satisfied her, and she changed her course back to the original route to Mercy Medical Center. They walked without speaking until about two blocks from the hospital. Then... "SR?" "Wha...?" Quicker than he could react, Anne's tongue lapped across SR's cheek in the vulpine equivalent of a kiss. SR was so surprised that he stumbled backward, blushing under his facial fur and raising a paw to touch the cheek she had kissed, mouth agape. "Uh... SR? I think... I think... I'll let you... carry... me... now..." Rushing forward, he caught her limp form as she lapsed into unconsciousness. "Oh shit!" he cried. Picking up Anne's light frame, he sprinted in the direction of medical salvation. During the run, she briefly became conscious again, smiling and stealing the chance to once again snake her tongue across SR's muzzle. A moment later, she was again oblivious. They were in luck when they got there. Unusual for this holiday, it had been a relatively slow night, and they were able to immediately treat her in the emergency room. It took nearly an hour for SR to fill out the requisite paperwork and to convince the clerks that Anne was not his wife, and that he hadn't been the one who had beaten her that night. By the time it was over, Anne had been moved to a room in the third floor. Being as late as it was, visiting hours were over, but SR would be damned before he'd let them throw him out of the hospital before he saw her. The room was darkened, and Anne was asleep, the left side of her head wrapped up in a mess of bandages. He found an empty chair near the bed and sat, waiting for any sign of consciousness. At last, at about two o'clock, she began to stir. She didn't open her eyes, but smiled as soon as she smelled the wool of SR's jacket. Her vodor came to life. "They didn't kick you out, yet?" SR collapsed in the chair in a surge of relief. "No. I wouldn't let them. Um... they said that you'll be OK. You were very lucky-- there are no internal injuries, and the concussion is only minor. They said that your vital signs began to stabilize as soon as you'd had a transfusion of blood. You might even be able to go home tomorrow, or the next day, if you don't feel like it tomorrow. You needn't worry about the bill. I've taken care of that. Stay as long as you like." The smile never left her lips. "Thanks, SR." They sat in silence for several minutes, and for a while, SR thought that she had fallen back to sleep. But her vodor eventually dispelled the quiet. "SR?" "Yes?" "Do you have a pen and some paper? I want to give you an address." "Uh... I'll be right back." He quietly left the room to retrieve her request from the secretary's desk. She heard him enter the room the second time. "Here, write this down. I want you to go there tonight." She gave SR a street address. SR looked a little confused. "What is this place, anyway?" "You'll see. But I want you to go there tonight-- since it's Christmas, they should still be open." "Uh... if it's all the same to you, I'd rather stay here with you." Her smile grew wider. "No, SR. You promised me. Besides, I'll be OK-- just let me rest, and you go to that address. Come back for me tomorrow." SR raised his voice in protest, but Anne had already fallen back to sleep. He looked down at the piece of paper in his paws. The pads on his feet made almost no sound as he rose and walked out the door. Anne smiled. It was nearly three AM before he got there. When he did, he paused in front of the entrance to the place, double- and triple-checking the address Anne had given him. "A bar?" he muttered, "'The place where we belong' is a lousy bar?" To his sensitive nose, though, it smelled more like a zoo. He shook his head, frowning, and almost walked away when the scent of Anne's blood on his jacket reminded him of the sanctity of his obligation. SR didn't drink and usually instinctively avoided drinking establishments. Still, if Anne wanted him to march to the top of Mount Everest and back, he would have done it. Why not, then, into a bar? Swallowing and gritting his teeth, he raised his paw to open the door. It was then that the music started. SR froze, paw on door handle. He recognized that melody. It was a hymn that had been taken out of his church's hymn book shortly after the Martian Flu first ravaged the earth. He looked upward, grinning at the sign over the door. Tears in his eyes, SR walked into The Blind Pig Gin Mill in enough time to join in singing "All Creatures of Our God and King." Copyright © 1998 by SR Foxley. All rights reserved. Please contact the author if you have questions regarding the publication of this document.
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