The Nose Knows (19 page)

“Judy, come on in. I sure can use a shoulder to lean on. Want something to drink?”

“Sure. Some wine would be great. Why don’t you sit down and I’ll get it. I know where everything is.”

Mom and I sat back down while Judy headed to the kitchen. She returned with a tray filled with cheese, crackers, wine glasses and the bottle of Chardonnay.

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Thanks so much. After the day I’ve had, it’s nice to be waited on.”

“You do look pretty exhausted, Hannah. How’s Joyce doing?”

“Worse. Oh, Judy, I don’t know what to do. I went to see her this afternoon and she recognized me, but she doesn’t seem to care about anything anymore. I couldn’t even get her to talk about her kids. She seems to be sinking further and further away. I met with Dr. Strauss—he’s the doctor at the jail. I found out he got his degree at Columbia. I must admit, I thought prisons docs got their degrees from some backwards third-world country. I was thrilled to find out I was wrong. Dr. Strauss is well educated, kind, and seems to care about the inmates. He told me the court psychiatrist saw Joyce this morning and he did as much of the evaluation as he could. But according to Dr. Strauss, Joyce’s participation was very limited. They started her on an antidepressant. She hasn’t had any more sedatives, so that’s not the cause of her increased withdrawal. They also started her on IV fluids and are trying everything they know to get her to eat. So far not much has worked.”

Judy patted Mom’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Did she talk to you at all?”

Mom sighed. “Yeah, she answered a few simple questions. But there wasn’t much I could do except hug her and tell her that there were a lot of people working on her behalf. I told her she had to keep fighting and that she had to work at talking and eating. That she had to do her part to help all the people who were trying to help her. But, to tell you the truth, Judy, I don’t think my words made any difference at all.”

I think Mom and Judy would have sat on that sofa most of the night if not for Bobby and Fancy. It was now close to six and Mom was still not in the kitchen where she was supposed to be. Bobby said they’d been patient, but enough was enough. It was time to eat! Between Bobby butting Mom’s chin with his head and Fancy’s incessant meowing it was impossible for her to miss the message.

“Okay, already. I hear you. I’m getting up right now. Just hold your horses, will you?”

Of course I have no idea how a cat is supposed to hold a horse, but. . . .

We all got dinner, including Mom. Judy didn’t join us. She said she needed to get back home and start dinner for her own family. After the dishes were done, Mom and I headed to Puppy Park. The food and the fresh air helped, but Mom’s slower pace, heavy sighs, and a dangerous lack of attention to traffic lights told me she was carrying a heavy load. She was still preoccupied when we reached the park. She didn’t notice that Jacob and Quincy were already there. Jacob must’ve been looking for us, because he immediately began jogging over to meet Mom. As he got right up to us it startled Mom out of her trance. Her face went from worry to warmth and relief. In one spontaneous surge of emotion, she flung her arms around Jacob’s neck.

“Oh, Jacob, I’m so glad you’re here.” She let her body sink into Jacob’s, her head resting against his chest.

Although Jacob was startled, he didn’t misread Mom’s need to be held. There are some things that require the presence of two human bodies. A full body hug is one of them. Jacob was doing just fine in that department. His arms encompassed Mom like a cocoon. The smile on her face and her relaxed body told me she felt completely safe.

He stroked her head and quietly said, “Poor girl, it must’ve been a terrible ordeal. It will get better, I promise.”

Mom lifted her head and smiled. “It already has.”

As they read each other’s eyes, Jacob cupped Mom’s chin. Then he gently caressed her lips with his.

Yes, sir, some things definitely require another human. Quincy and I politely averted our eyes. But

I’ll tell you one thing, seeing those two kissing was one pretty picture. Sometimes, in an instant, a day can just turn on itself and become terrific. We couldn’t have planned it better. The cats were going to be sorry they missed this one!

O
ver the next few days, there were a lot of conference calls between Mom, the lawyer, and the psychiatrist. Joyce was getting worse. Now she wasn’t talking at all, to anyone. Most of the time her eyes remained closed. Sometimes she opened them when someone spoke, but there was no sign she recognized who was in front of her. According to Mom, if it weren’t for the IV fluids, Joyce would have succumbed to dehydration. She still walked to the bathroom, but Mom said she walked like a zombie. Mom even tried sneaking up behind her and yelling “Boo!” Joyce didn’t even flinch.

The doctor and the psychiatrist got nowhere. The attorney got nowhere. Mom got nowhere.

I was coming back into the house after one of my many trips to the backyard. Old bladders are like old girdles—neither one holds stuff like they used to. Mom was talking on the phone.

“. . . the District Attorney said Joyce had to be able to speak for herself. Well, obviously we now know that’s not going to happen. The team went back and forth all day, but in the end we all agreed that we had no choice but to tell the DA Joyce isn’t able to participate in her own defense. Only Joyce can tell a judge and jury what happened that night. I can testify as to what she told me, but it’s hearsay and won’t do much good. Without her story we’re left with fifteen unexplained stab wounds in Hank’s chest. The lawyer from Mackey’s office expects her to be charged with aggravated homicide. He said he’d plead not guilty on her behalf—but it’s obvious she’ll be unable to stand trial. Most likely the judge will rule temporary insanity and send her to a psychiatric hospital for an indefinite period of time.”

She paused and listened.

“I know, Jacob. Believe me, I know. Once she enters that psychiatric hospital, her chances for getting her children back will plummet. At best, it means years of having to prove she’s stable enough to care for them. Of course, that’s after a long period of hospitalization, and who knows about jail time. Plus none of us know if she’ll ever emerge from the isolated world she’s now in. Hope is fading fast. Her court date is only four days away. We’re almost out of time.”

She paused again and listened. A smile spread across her face.

“Thanks for the support, Jacob. I appreciate it. Actually, at first I was too embarrassed to tell you what happened when I left the prison ward today, but what the heck, I might as well. When I was walking out to the parking lot I felt very discouraged. By the time I reached my car, I realized how scared I was. Then I got angry. I turned around and marched right back into the jail. The officer knows me so well at this point, he just waved me through. I went back to the hospital ward and got within two inches of Joyce’s face. Then I started yelling. I screamed, “Joyce, you listen to me. If you don’t start talking, you’re going to lose your kids forever!
Hello
in there
. Stop this right now, do you hear me? Talk to me. Tell me your name. What is your name—say it! Do you hear me? Say it—damn it—say it! Speak to me. Joyce, do you hear me?”

I guess everyone within a mile heard her. I saw Mom like that once before, when Dad did something dangerous and really scared her. She got all red in the face and screamed at him. If she yelled as loud this time, I knew everyone heard her, except the one she hoped would.

“No, Jacob, she didn’t hear me at all. Joyce never even batted an eye.”

The next morning Mom decided she and I were going for a walk. She put my harness on me and we drove to the large pine forest. Mom often goes there when she’s upset. She told me the negative ions in a pine forest promote a sense of peacefulness. Maybe true, maybe not, but I do know that pine forests smell great and walking in them seems to have a positive effect on Mom. She’d put on her hiking shoes so I knew I could be in for a good long walk.

When Mom is troubled, she tends to walk fast and far. For a senior like me, it meant I needed a plan. The trails in this forest are such that Mom can see far ahead. Since no one could suddenly come upon us, Mom dropped my leash and let me set my own tempo. Now I had time to stop and smell where other critters had been before me. This afforded frequent rest stops before I had to run and catch up with Mom. This was a whole lot better than having Mom holding onto my leash. Mom walking fast while I’m trying to smell stuff always results in a herky-jerky walk for both of us. I like it when she lets me go on my own and we can set our own paces. After all these years, she usually senses when she’s getting too far ahead.

But today, it was taking her longer than usual to slow down. I was getting winded. Luckily, she got thirsty, so she stopped long enough to take a lengthy drink from her water bottle. I took the opportunity to jump against her leg and force her attention back onto me.

“Oh, Spunky, I’m sorry. I was walking too fast for you, wasn’t I? There’s a good sitting rock up there; let’s go rest for a moment.”

I intended to make good use of the time out.

She hoisted me up onto the rock and then sat down. As she dangled her legs over the edge, I moved to my favorite spot—her lap. Hey, rocks are hard, and though Mom’s legs may be skinny they do provide some cushioning. As I sat there quietly looking ahead, Mom stroked my sides. The calming force began to take effect. Since she was in physical contact with me it meant a stronger signal was being transmitted. I had a plan, and I needed Mom to catch on quickly. There wasn’t much time.

As she sat there quietly talking to me, I looked back and made eye contact.

“Hush, Mom, quiet your mind.
Shhhh.
That’s it— slow it all down.”

Slowly her voice became quieter with longer lapses between sentences. I shifted my weight to increase her awareness of me. Her muscles relaxed some more. Her tension was ebbing.

Shoot! She was getting up. Her anxiety must have been a lot greater than usual. I wasn’t able to break through to her. She picked me up and put me back on the ground. “Okay, sweetheart baby, time to get a move on.”

Once again we were off. But this time she didn’t leave me in the dust. She had me back on her radar. Problem was, at this pace I couldn’t communicate with her. I had to get her to halt. She gave me no choice. I didn’t like scaring her but I was desperate.

I yelped.

She immediately stopped. She ran back to where I was.

“What’s wrong, Spunky? What happened? Did you get bit? Did you step on something?”

I began vigorously licking my front paw, biting at it and then licking it again.

“Wait, wait, let me see.”

Every time she tried to examine my paw, I yanked it free and started licking again. I knew if she got too good look at it, she would see there was nothing wrong, but if I licked it long enough it would get all red. Then she wouldn’t be able to tell if I’d been bitten or not. I’ve stepped on wasps before, so she had every reason to believe it might be something real. While she was searched the ground to see if anything was walking around half-stepped on, I kept licking. I knew Mom’s greatest concern was snakes! Of course I’d never let a snake get that close, but there was no way for Mom to know for sure.

Mom’s inspection of the ground provided no clues as to the cause of my yelp. She had to wait to see if the paw swelled or if I started walking on it again. That meant she did exactly what I hoped—she picked me up and headed back to the rock.

Now maybe I could get the woman into the zone.

Unfortunately, my yelp had scared her and she was worried about me, so it was going to be harder to do than before. A quick lick to her face helped. I knew I didn’t have a lot of time. I began to enter the zone. I willed Mom to enter it with me. My breathing slowed, her breathing slowed. My mind cleared, her mind became quieter. I focused on releasing one muscle and then another; her body began to relax. I breathed deeply; her lungs began to mimic mine and expanded more fully. As she stroked me, I could feel the tightness in her body lessen. Her hands slowed into a gentle rhythm. I could feel her drifting toward the zone. She was no longer focused on my paw or on her problems. Then for one brief moment—she let it all go. That was all I needed. I homed in on a single picture in my mind. It was clear and intense. Everything else remained in a state of great calm.

I felt our life forces combine. If she’d just stay in the zone long enough to see. . . .

Mom’s body bolted straight up. Holding me tight in her arms, she jumped off the rock. When she set me on the ground, I didn’t know if she’d received my message or not. I turned and looked up at her as she said, “Well, I’ll be. Now where did that idea come from?”

She looked down at me. I cocked my head. I licked my chops. She clapped her hands.

“You! It came from you, Spunky. I know it was you. Imagine that. Is your paw all right? Seems to be. . . . Come on old girl, we haven’t got much time!”

It was a good thing I’d gotten some rest, because she was now double-timing it back to the car. We drove to the house.