Rachel Alexander 02 - The Dog who knew too much

Janet said on one of her many breaks in the middle of counting.
    “What did you say?” I asked, the blood pounding in my head, my breath sounding like the ocean during a storm.
    “Your butt, woman. It’s going to sink if you don’t work it. Five, four, three, good work, Rachel, hold it, hold it, okay, bring it forward, three, two, one. Other leg.”
    “My butt’s going to sing?” I asked her.
    “Yeah, but please don’t let it do that until I’m out of the way,” she said. “Just keep working.”
    We did shoulders, arms, back, chest, calves, quads, abs, and a few dozen parts I didn’t know I had. When Janet’s six o’clock showed up, I wanted to offer him a car. I thought we were finished. But I was wrong. While he warmed up in anticipation of his torture session, I got to stretch. It would have felt terrific to stretch out the muscles I had just worked so hard to tighten up, except for Janet, who pushed each limb a few inches farther than where I took it on my own.
    “Doesn’t that feel good ,” she drawled. “Don’t forget to keep stretching later today and tomorrow. Don’t you feel just fabulous?” She began to laugh in a way that made me think she knew exactly how I felt.
    I left Janet in her world of grunts and groans and headed back to Lisa’s. I had taken off the silver bracelet in order to work in the gym. I reached into my pocket and put it back on, feeling the cold weight of the metal first in my hand and then on my wrist.
    Be My Love .
    It had arrived after Paul and Lisa had broken up. After he had proposed. After she’d told him she was going to China and turned him down. Rejected him.
    Had this been his way of asking again?
    I had hoped , he’d started to say in the car.
    I had hoped.
    What? That Lisa would change her mind and stay? That she’d marry him after all?
    He had reversed the truth, telling me that it was Lisa who had wanted to marry when it was he. And he had tried to take away the proof that his story had been a lie. To save face.
    Big deal. Everyone had a story, the facts skewed to fit his own needs. They were probably all lying to me. Even Avi .
    Everyone lies , my shrink used to say. People need to puff themselves up, she’d said, to make others believe they’re more special than they themselves feel they are. Maybe there’s something they want they wouldn’t get with the truth, she’d said. Or maybe they’re really lying to themselves. It’s something they need to believe, and you’re almost beside the point.
    Lisa had been scheduled to leave the day after tomorrow.
    Who else knew that?
    A little while ago, I had wondered what the questions were. Now I had too many that needed answering. As I stood in Lisa’s shower, the hot water pounding my sore muscles, they were swimming around in my head like fish. I needed to get dressed, take my dog for a long walk, and think things through.

22

Be Prepared

    EARLY THE NEXT morning I took Dashiell straight to Bank Street , climbed the stairs, unlocked the door, and taking off my shoes, walked onto the polished studio floor and just sat. There wasn’t a sound in the place, not even the ticking of a clock. I sat still, my thoughts still spinning like the specks of dust swirling in the sunlight.
    I don't know how long I was there by myself before Dashiell heard him on the steps. He stood and wagged his tail.
    “What are you doing?” he asked, pushing up the elastic that held his ponytail.
    “Nothing,” I told him.
    “Good,” he said.
    He went into his office to change his shoes, then came back to where I was sitting.
    “How long have you been doing nothing?”
    “Long,” I told him.
    “Excellent,” he said. “May I join you?”
    “Suit yourself ,” I told him.
    He sat next to me. Now we were both doing nothing. Well, truth be told, I wasn’t exactly doing nothing. I was watching those dust motes twirling in the air, wondering what made them move so fast.
    Avi wasn’t doing nothing either. He was scratching Dashiell’s thick neck. Dashiell began to moan.
    “There’s a saying that trying to understand Zen is like looking for the spectacles that are sitting on your nose,” he said after a while.
    “I don’t wear spectacles,” I told him.
    “Give it time,” he said with a wicked grin. “You will.” He pushed up the band around his ponytail again. “Come,” he said, “let’s get to work.”
    We practiced the form twice without speaking. The third time, Avi stopped working to correct me.