Standard Disclaimer: Duncan and Richie are the property of Rysher Entertainment. I just wanted to have a little fun with 'em and have returned them unharmed and happy. Bingo and Merle are mine. All e-mail is welcome. I can take most any type of comments, but please be constructive with criticism. Send your opinions to meghanblack@earthling.net.
This little piece made me get out of bed at 2:30 the other morning and start jotting down notes (maybe that's why its so silly). I just couldn't get past the thought that Duncan should really have a dog as a faithful companion, but we all know how sad it is when we lose a pet...
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"... His faithful dog shall bear him company."
- Alexander Pope -The morning was as perfect as they get in Seacouver. The sky was practically cloudless, a miracle in itself, and the light breeze was cooling to the man keeping a steady pace along the park's jogging path. Duncan MacLeod's legs pumped to the music of his Walkman as he maintained an easy trot through the trees surrounding the dirt trail. It was days like this that made him sure he wanted to spend the rest of his life (or at least the next 100 years) right here in the northwest. He passed other joggers, even though he didn't feel like he was pushing himself particularly hard.
He skirted around a rollerblader being pulled along by his large black lab and smiled at the little scene. Most of his experience with dogs was confined to the large Scottish Deerhounds his clan had used to hunt. Once he became immortal and his life took a minor shift in direction, he had never found it convenient or practical to have a pet of his own. For the first time, it occurred to him that his life was stable enough for the companionship a dog or cat would offer. But the thought was so foreign, he dismissed it immediately.
He rounded a curve in the path, running into the open area of picnic tables and grills...then the buzz hit. The hairs on his neck stood up and he immediately began scanning the area for someone else with that furtive look in their eyes.
Everyone seemed to be ignoring him for the most part. A teenaged couple sat at a picnic table, totally engrossed in the kiss they shared. An old man leaned back on one of the benches, the morning paper he had been reading fluttering in his lap, his mouth slightly open in slumber. The only other occupant of the family area was an old blind woman and her seeing eye dog, but that seemed to be the direction from which the charge of recognition was strongest.
Duncan slowed his pace and walked over to the bench occupied by the pair.
"Mornin'," he greeted and then, "beautiful dog you have there, mam." The jogger waited for some acknowledgment of his presence.
"Good morning to ya. Well, he's beautiful to me, far as I can tell," came the rather weak reply. The woman really was quite elderly and Duncan wondered how she had managed to maneuver through traffic to the large, rustic park. "The sun feels fine today doesn't it," she smiled in his general direction.
"Yes, its an uncommonly beautiful day for Seacouver. Have you been enjoying it long?" he queried. He just couldn't accept that this woman could be the cause of his sensory tingle. And then, "Do you live around here?" Maybe if he phrased the questions properly, he would have his answers.
The woman's heavily lined face crinkled into what Duncan could only surmise was a wide grin. The creases had been set decades ago and he could only imagine what she looked like in younger days. "Well, let's see, first I've been sitting on this bench every morning for the last thirty years. And yes, I'm only a short distance down Glover street over there," and indicated the general direction of the park entrance with a long claw-like finger.
Damn, no more pieces to this strange puzzle had fallen into place based on her answers. But he was sure the signal had emanated from this direction. Duncan began looking around nervously, but his attention was diverted by her continued chatter.
"This here's Bingo and I'm Merle. Yep, he's been around almost as long as I have," and Duncan looked dubiously at the four-legged creature drowsily laying at the woman's feet. "Well it seems like it anyway," she cackled. "I was blinded by an auto accident about 35 years ago and I know my memory ain't what it used to be, but it sure seems like old Bingo's been helping me out ever since." She reached down and stroked the soft fur of the retriever, who licked her hand affectionately.
It was obvious the old grandmother was enjoying the distraction his appearance had created. He was sure not many people just walked up to her and began talking and he wouldn't be surprised if she was all alone in the world except for the golden-haired dog, that really didn't look like it had passed more than three birthdays. He chalked her ramblings up to old age and loneliness but was determined to solve his mystery.
" Nice to meet you... and Bingo. My name's Duncan. If you don't mind me asking, how old are you?" he asked politely and seated himself carefully next to her shopping bag full of knitting.
"Don't you know it's not polite to ask a lady's age, sir?" she made a noise somewhere between a snort and giggle. "But since you seem like such a nice young man, I'll oblige your curiosity. I'll be 83 come next Sunday."
"Well it seems like you've been pretty lucky to have a companion like Bingo all these years," he stated, dubiously looking at the harnessed dog.
"Oh, I know you think I'm a senile old biddy," she rambled on. "Yes, I realize it sounds crazier than the Mad Hatter, but I know my Bingo has been by my side since shortly after the accident. I can't explain it either, but he sure has been a blessing."
Duncan was convinced that the old woman sitting next to him was not immortal by any stretch of the imagination and sat there silently musing for a moment. His gaze fell on the panting canine at their feet and for just an instant two pairs of deep, dark eyes locked and communicated. NO! It couldn't be. He practically jumped up from his seat, startling both the other human and the dog.
"How did you find Bingo?" he wondered aloud to his companion.
"Well, now that's an interesting story," she settled in to tell her favorite tale. "After the accident I woke up in the hospital with bandages wrapped all around my head and a splitting headache to beat the drum." The crone rubbed her temples in remembered pain.
"They told me I'd be blind and there was absolutely nothing they could do about it. Oh, they tried to be a little more tactful than all that, but that's what it all boiled down to." Duncan could just imagine the effect that sort of news would have on him if it was possible for him to go blind. He reached out a hand to cover the dry, withered claw resting on the bench. "Yes?" he prompted when she seemed to stop, lost in memories of those devastating days.
"Anyway, I'd just lost my husband the year before and hadn't even been driving very long when the accident happened and everyone wanted to put me in some kind of home 'cause I didn't have anyone to look after me." She made a derisive noise of dismissal as if the suggestion had just been made anew. "Told 'em I'd been looking after, not only myself, but Harry too lo these 28 years and I didn't think taking away my sight would slow me down none."
"My daughter didn't like it, but I talked her into letting me go home to try it for awhile by myself right after they released me from that torture chamber they call a hospital." Duncan had to smile at the analogy.
"That first night when I was by myself I was sitting out on the porch, listening to the crickets and starting to wonder just *how* I was going to make it. I was 48 years old, never worked outside the house...and I was blind. Luckily Harry's pension and the social security I get just covered my groceries and what not and I hadn't had to worry about a house payment since Harry left me and the insurance paid it off." She stopped her tale again and sat staring into space for a moment. Duncan could only imagine what past pictures those sightless eyes were viewing.
The mortal took up her story again as if she'd never halted. "Well, Duncan, I was just getting ready to go in for the night when I heard this scuffle like on the steps. I wasn't really scared 'cause I live in one of those neighborhoods where everyone's known everybody for a hundred years and we'd never had a lick of problems. Knew it had to be some kind of animal so I clicked my tongue and called to whatever it was. Next thing I know, there's this wet tongue all over my face and me and Bingo ain't been separated since."
They sat in companionable silence for awhile, each lost in their own thoughts. Duncan kept glancing at Bingo with a doubtful look in his eyes, while the dog just returned his gaze with open trust on his furry yellow face. Merle sat absently petting the soft head of her helper, lost in her own world of memories.
"That's quite a yarn, Merle, I must admit, but if you say Bingo's been around all these years, who am I to dispute you?" Duncan admitted with a smile in his voice. Even if the tall tale wasn't true, what purpose would it serve to argue with the old lady about it? The Highlander was nothing if not chivalrous.
"You're sweet, Duncan," she replied, patting his knee with her unoccupied hand. "You know, you stop by and say hi anytime you see us sitting here, okay?"
"I'll do that, Merle." And with no further good-byes, Duncan continued his jog around the park, mulling over the impossible circumstances he thought he had just witnessed.
Strange that he'd been jogging in this park for three years and never seen or 'felt' Merle and Bingo before. But in the following days, Duncan had cause to stop and greet the woman and her dog twice more.
On Sunday Duncan remembered that it was Merle's birthday, probably because she had been in his thoughts so much lately. Bingo never gave further evidence that he was different than any other canine beyond that moment of silent communion the two had shared on the occasion of their first meeting. The Highlander was beginning to wonder if he had imagined the whole buzz experience that day. He seemed to sense a faint imitation of the first buzz each time they met, but was never sure if it was due to the seed that had been planted in his mind or if the dog really did emit that warning sense given off by others of his kind. He had certainly never *heard* of an immortal animal in all his 400+ years.
Looking forward to their meeting, Duncan headed out for his morning run. He had a small birthday card tucked in his running shorts that he had picked up for the old woman yesterday and new how much the few moments spent chatting meant to her. As the jogger rounded the corner where he usually spotted Merle and the dog, he stopped abruptly, almost causing the skater behind him to collide into the broad back. With an automatic apology the man moved off the trail and walked slowly toward the park bench he had privately dubbed "Merle's."
Bingo lay on the ground in front of the seat, head resting on outstretched paws. There was a definite air of melancholy surrounding the sad looking creature and Duncan couldn't help the catch in his throat as he realized that the lone dog could mean only one thing.
The large, well-built man with bandanna tied around his head sat down heavily on the bench, holding his head in sweaty hands. He felt an inexplicable sorrow at the knowledge that Merle would no longer be waiting for him with a smile and some tale about her life with Harry. He had only known her less than a week, but she quickly became a part of his daily routine, like shaving and the morning run. Suddenly he felt a warm, wet tongue on his knee and glanced down at the big golden retriever which had laid its head forlornly on his leg.
"I know big guy. It's hard when they die and you're left behind, isn't it?" He ruffled the soft head and was rewarded with another lick on the palm. "I guess it isn't much different for you than it is from us human immortals, huh?" The dog continued to gaze at him with large, liquid eyes.
"Come on, let's go find out what happened." And the man and dog trotted off toward Glover street.
It didn't take much work for Duncan to discover where the old woman had lived. Her neighbors knew her well, as they often took turns taking her to the store or providing small services around the house. He found out that Merle had died quietly in her sleep on Friday night, not being discovered until her daughter came by Saturday afternoon to take her to the market. The man next door informed the tall stranger that Bingo hadn't left the house till this morning and could be heard howling off and on since the old woman's body had been taken away.
Duncan absently reached down to touch Bingo reassuringly when he heard this and thanked the neighbor for the information he had provided about his old friend. Once he'd learned the location and time of the funeral, Duncan turned from the neighborhood and jogged back to the park where his T-Bird sat.
When he reached the car Duncan realized that the dog had kept his pace and now sat looking at him expectantly. "Well, what do you want me to do?" he asked in frustration. He wasn't sure what to do with an immortal dog.
"Come on," he motioned inside the car. "I don't know what I'm doing, but at least you won't have to worry about going through that again for a long, long time, hopefully."
So, a man and his dog rode the short distance back to the dojo and you could have pushed Richie over with a feather when his boss strolled in from his morning run with a large, golden-haired dog trotting happily behind him.
"Richie, meet Bingo. He's going to be around here for quite awhile, I think."
- The End -
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