Tucker
The next two months flew by. We finished Morgan’s training, and she passed the test to become an official emotional support dog. Now I could put a vest on her and bring her anywhere I wanted.
My anxiety attacks had become fewer and fewer. My leg had healed up nicely, with only the occasional jab of pain. The therapist had cut me off from pain medication, telling me that at this point an active lifestyle was the best treatment for my leg.
And I was active, all right. Ryan made sure of that every night we spent together.
I was easily spending the majority of my time at Ryan’s house, exploring the many ways I could make him smile. We would go to my parent’s house about two Sundays a month for brunch. I had extra time on my hands and had no idea what to do with it, so Ryan had asked me to join him with his work for the time being.
Today I accompanied Ryan to the shelter for his latest dog rescue. It was there that we met a young woman in her twenties, Elaine, who was new to the shelter. She looked at us both, seeming like she was trying to figure out what two men were doing so close together.
After she and Ryan exchanged greetings, she turned her gaze to me, a friendly smile on her face. “And you are?”
I laughed. It wasn’t often that I had to introduce myself, considering almost everyone around here knew who I was. “Name’s Tucker. I’m Ryan’s partner.”
Ryan blushed; I think he must’ve thought I’d introduce myself as ‘Tucker, star football player’ or something.
Elaine nodded slowly, but something seemed to be bothering her. I worried for a fleeting moment that it was because Ryan and I were together, but then she snapped her fingers in realization. “Oh, you’re that football player, aren’t you? I don’t watch much sports, to be honest.”
Ryan and I both laughed. Elaine then explained she was on a mission to train the dogs so that they would be more adoptable. We all hit it off, especially Ryan. He watched her work, and then asked if she could use a part-time job.
“Yeah, I’m fresh out of college, so I’ve been having trouble finding work.”
“Well,” Ryan began. “I could use a part-time trainer. You’re very talented with the dogs.”
Elaine stared at him, as if she were waiting for him to say he was only kidding. “Really? You’d hire me just like that? You don’t want my, uh, resume, or references or anything?”
Ryan smiled. “The dogs approve of you. That’s recommendation enough.”
*
Elaine was a godsend, and with her help Ryan could take on a few extra dogs at a time. I had become bored with being a football retiree, so I offered to handle the paperwork side of things, along with finding people in need of a therapy dog. The next few weeks flew by, and life really couldn’t get any better.
Morgan was always by my side, my constant companion. She became Ryan’s spokesdog, wearing her red vest, going to schools and various functions with us to educate the public. At first I sat in the sidelines, but eventually I would bite my inner anxiety and talk as well.
Ryan had told me that my presence would inspire others, and thus far, he had been correct. People would listen intently any time I talked about my career, the accident, and how Morgan helped me conquer both the physical and mental pain that came along with it.
But life was never that easy, was it?
Today I had given yet another successful speech, and now we were in the meet-and-greet portion of the night. Usually I would pose with fans, answer questions, and give further information on how to apply for a therapy dog.
But today I was approached by a man whose posture was aggressive, as if he were waiting to tackle me.
“Sir?” I said, matching his glare. “Can I help you?”
“You’re a fraud,” he practically growled, and a few people eyed him warily. His voice raised, until almost everyone in the room could hear him. “You’re completely recovered, yet you won’t return to the team. Your team needs you, and you left them hanging.” He looked around at his newfound audience, then declared, “Some hero you turned out to be, Tucker.”
I felt bile rise up in my throat. All eyes turned to me. Morgan must have sensed my rising anxiety, as she nudged her head under my right hand and gave me a quiet woof.
I finally allowed myself to break eye contact from that man and looked down into Morgan’s beautiful amber eyes. I petted her head and took in deep breaths. The crowded room was so quiet, all I could hear were people breathing and the occasional cough.
I turned to my left to see Ryan was off to the side with Elaine. Both were looking at me anxiously, seeming to be at a loss for words. As was I.
I turned to look back at the man, my glare intense. This was a goodwill event, and he was ruining the mood.
“Sir,” I started. “I’m sorry you feel I let you down, but I can assure you if there had been any way I could have returned to football and to my team, I would have. That part of my life is over, and I have been doing my best to find a path that’s equally important. And I believe I am finding my way.”
“You didn’t even try!” he yelled. “Where have you been? Why aren’t you at least on the sidelines, standing by your teammates?”
I sighed then tilted my head down back toward Morgan, drawing strength from her eyes. I then looked back up at the enraged man, and at the quiet audience. “After the accident, my leg was on fire every minute of every day. My face was burned and scarred, my thoughts were morbid and dark. I didn’t have it in me to talk to anyone. Even now, I’m fighting the urge to leave, to walk away and go hide somewhere. You think I liked abandoning my teammates, my fans, my family? You’re dead wrong.”
I shook my head, my eyes watering, but I continued, “Maybe I should have tried to go to a game. But then how would that have helped my team, me standing there with my scarred face and mangled body limping around the sidelines? Do you honestly think they needed that distraction?”
The man looked around, seeing that he didn’t have much support in the crowd. “But you seem fine now.”
“My leg is shot. I can walk around, but I can’t run. I can’t do the things I used to do, and not for lack of trying. I exercise every day, but my leg is gone. I’m useless in that regard. So no, there’s no football in my future. I’m not happy about it, but I have to learn to live with that. I’m sorry if that disappoints you.”
The man teared up. “I’m sorry.” Then he broke down, sobbing hard. A few people in the crowd moved toward him and a couple tried comforting him. Then he looked back up, wiping the tears from his eyes. “God, I just… I don’t know what to do.”
I blinked at him, unsure why he would take the end of my career so hard.
The man then explained, “I needed someone to blame, I guess. I just don’t know how to go on otherwise.”
“Blame for what?” I asked, now feeling a little bad for the guy.
“My son was a huge fan of yours and the team. He… He was dying of cancer, and the team was in the playoffs when your accident happened. It was his last chance to see you guys win. It was his dying wish. With you out and the team’s morale so low, they lost. Then my son died.”
I honestly had no idea what to say about that. Jesus, that was a lot to put on someone. “I… I’m sorry for your loss.”
Then a teenaged girl came forward through the crowd. Everyone quieted down, curious about her intentions.
She came up to me and said, “I want to thank you for saving my mother’s life.”
I frowned, unsure what she meant. Then it clicked—she must’ve been the daughter of the woman I saved the day of the accident.
She turned around and pointed to the back wall where a beautiful woman in a wheelchair waited, with a man standing beside her. Her husband, I presumed.
The audience erupted in applause.
Ryan came over to my side and helped me walk toward the girl’s parents. The husband stepped forward and brought out a hand to shake mine. Then I looked down at the woman. She said, “Thank you for saving me. We’re sorry you lost your career and had suffered so much because of what you did for me. We can never thank you enough for your sacrifice.”
“It was the right thing to do. I think I was meant to be there for you.”
“They say you were my jaws of life, so to speak. That you exhibited superhuman strength in rescuing me. I know you mentioned how bad you felt about yourself, but please know you are a hero to us.”
“How is your recovery going?” I managed to ask despite being choked up.
She smiled. “I’m doing well. I should be able to walk again soon.”
The events coordinator went to the microphone and announced, “Well, this event took a slight turn, but for the better I think. Let’s all give Tucker, Ryan, and Morgan a round of applause.”
The audience complied with loud cheers. We both turned around and faced everyone. I felt the urge to leave again with so many people crowding us, but I stayed strong.
Finally the coordinator interrupted, saying, “Please everyone, let’s step back and allow them some room. Remember, Tucker needs his space.”
The audience made a wide path for us. Ryan leaned over as we walked and whispered in my ear, “You okay? That was intense.”
“Yeah. But I think it’s about time we left.”
The announcer came down the podium steps and shook hands with Ryan, then myself. We told him we had to take off, and he nodded in understanding.
Ryan motioned at Elaine and she came over. “Can you take care of wrapping everything up for us? We’re heading home.”
“Of course.”
I was glad to be on our way home. Several times Ryan kept asking me if I was okay. I kept replying that I was, but was I? I wasn’t sure.
When we arrived back at his house, I made my excuses, and Morgan and I left for home.
*
As I sat back in my mausoleum of a mansion, familiar old feelings started returning.
Morgan was ever loyal by my side, laying down at my feet. I moved over to the sofa and called her so she could lay by my side with her head in my lap.
My cell rang from the nearby table, the ringtone letting me know it was Ryan. I didn’t budge. I wasn’t in the mood to share at the moment. Especially since I wasn’t really sure what was going on with me. I just sat there, patting Morgan’s soft black fur. The repetitive motion was soothing, having a calming effect on me.
I knew Ryan was worried, and I hated to do that to him, but I needed time to sort out my thoughts.
The man who lost his son really brought back the old feelings I had of worthlessness. Yeah, I talked a great talk back there in response to what he was saying, but here I was starting to feel pity again. What the heck?
The woman I had rescued and her kind words should have been enough to knock out these old feelings. A husband and daughter would have been left alone if I hadn’t saved her. But no, I didn’t feel any better.
Why was I regressing again? Why was I feeling so empty?
Why did my life feel so meaningless?
Sure, I was happy. I had Ryan now, a dream come true. But my sense of purpose was gone.
Morgan lifted up her head and shook it hard, then looked me straight in the eyes. The little angel somehow knew something was wrong with me. I swear sometimes I felt like she could read my mind.
“What’s wrong with me, girl?” I asked her.
She sat up beside me on the sofa then growled.
“What?” I asked her. I never heard her growl before. It wasn’t a menacing growl. It was more like she was chiding me, like she was disappointed in me and how I was letting myself go there again after all her hard work.
My house phone rang, and a quick glance at the caller ID revealed it was Ryan again.
Morgan jumped down from the sofa and went over to the table. I couldn’t believe it, but she used her training to pick up the phone and bring it to me, despite the fact that I didn’t ask her to. She dropped the drool-covered phone in my lap.
She didn’t leave me with much of a choice, did she?
I answered. “Hello, Ryan.”
“I’m coming over, Tucker. I’m not letting you wallow alone. So you better answer your damn door or I’ll break it down!”
“Okay, okay. Sheesh.”
“Morgan and I didn’t work this hard to let you go back into your dark hole, Tucker. I’ll be there in ten minutes. Answer the door.”
He hung up.
All I could do was sit there and pet Morgan as I waited.
I was actually a little scared.