MADISON

A siren rushing up the quiet residential street in Sandy Springs, Georgia, turns everyone’s heads. This poor dog is clinging to me as I squat beside him, his weight pressed into me.

“I know those are loud, boy, but you’re safe now, I promise.”

Denise shakes her head and I nod. This was someone’s pet and they abandoned him tonight in their escape. Wouldn’t be surprised if they never come forward, and they may have already left in shame. If they’re here, nobody’s saying anything.

The truck pulls up, firefighters bursting into action. Cop cars, too, and Billy hurries over.

“It was just one candle!”

“That’s all it takes,” they tell him.

The house gets swamped with hoses, one from the water supply in the truck, another connected to a hydrant. As the flames fight back, we stare. The side and back of the house collapse under our watch, the tragic crunch of lost memories affecting all of us.

I close my eyes.

Denise whispers, “People will be talking about this for years.”

A policeman walks up and asks me, “Your dog okay?”

I don’t bother to correct him that it’s not mine. “He will be.”

“What’s his name?” He bends to pet him. “Got burned a little, huh?”

“Yes, unfortunately. I’ll take him to a vet.”

“I know one that’s open twenty-four hours.”

Glancing to Denise I ask, “Will you use your phone? I don’t want to stand up yet. He’s so scared.”

“Of course.” She gets the name and address and thanks the police officer as firefighters emerge from billowing clouds of smoke and steam.

Nicholas and I lock eyes, and I offer him another smile of gratitude. He stares at me a second, nods and turns to ask his friends something I can’t hear from where I am.

Denise looks at me. “Okay, remember when I told you we could go when I said the party is over? The party is over.”

Ruefully I smile, “Ya think?” Taking the dog’s collar I see a shiny tag bobbing on it. “Oh, I never even thought to look. His name is Bucky. And there’s a phone number.” Glancing to Denise I see her rolling her eyes. “We’ll call later. Come on, Bucky, let’s get you fixed up. That’s more important now. We can kick their ass later.”

Nicholas jogs over as we head for my car. “You taking off?”

“One of the police officers told us of an animal hospital that’s open all night.”

He bends to pet Bucky’s ears, looking him in the eyes and saying, “You’re in good hands, boy.”

“His name is Bucky.”

“Oh yeah? Cute name.” Nicholas takes a deep breath and straightens, nodding to me. “You take care.”

Chewing on my lip I nod, “You too.”

Denise has already gotten into the passenger side and from there she watches as I open my door, slide my seat forward and coax Bucky to climb in. My heart warms as he jumps inside, a show of trust I’ve felt with the children I take care of.

“I’ve never had a pet,” I confess to Nicholas as I fix the seat.

“Maybe his owner will come forward.”

“There’s a number. I’m going to call it.”

You could ask for my number right now.

I’d give it to you.

Nicholas smiles, backs away. “See ya.”

I nod, awkwardly smile, and get in.

As we drive away Denise ventures a guess, “Don’t hate him anymore, do ya?”

With my concentration half on the road, I sigh, “No.”

“I think he likes you.”

Wondering if she’s kidding I glance over. But her expression is as numb and blank as I feel.

“As a friend. I think we’ll all be friends after this mess.” The hypnotic yellow line blurs into infinity as she directs our journey with Google maps.

“Check on Bucky, please?”

She turns in her seat. “He’s wondering what the fuck just happened.”

“He’s not alone.”

“Right?”

“That was crazy.”

“I wanna call that owner right now and see what the hell is wrong with them!”

“Wait, is this the exit? My mind’s not working right.”

She glances to her screen. “Not yet. Two more. You want me to call?”

“No, I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“I meant the vet.”

“Oh…yes.”

She dials, angrily muttering, “That’s right, you’re not giving Bucky back until we’re damn sure this was an honest mistake, because fuck this! If I saw them right now, I’d go all Marla and Madison on their ass. Hello? We have a dog that’s been saved from a house fire. Are you open? You are? Oh good. We’re about ten minutes out. Thank you. Bye.” She lays the phone on her lap and sighs, “I wish traffic was like this all the time.”

“So do the millions of other people who love living here.”

“How do we make them leave?”

I smile, glancing over to remind her, “Part of why we like it here is the people.”

“True. Guess there’s always something bad about everything, if you look for it.”

I mutter, turning the wheel, “Honestly, there are very few things I don’t like about Atlanta, so I guess I’ll stay.”

“As if you’re going anywhere without me!” She smacks my leg and turns around in her seat, smiling with a gentle voice, “Bucky, may not feel like it right now, but you just got an upgrade.” Facing forward again she mutters, “We should change his name to Lucky.”

“I don’t know if I’m keeping him.” I glance over. “Can I?”

“Honey!”

“Yeah, maybe I could.”

When I pull into the dim parking lot, I glance back and see him looking so sad it breaks my heart. But he climbs out of the back seat when I beckon him.

The three of us enter a bright office with a middle-aged woman behind a beige desk. She glances up from her computer, name tag that reads: Harriet.

“Are you the ones who called?” Her eyes drop to Bucky. “Oh, yes you are, aren’t you? Poor thing. What happened? House fire, you said? Everyone okay I hope?”

“Bucky was the only one who got burned.”

Denise corrects me. “I saw some burns on Nicholas’s hands and his right arm.”

Appalled that I hadn’t noticed, I ask, “You did? Oh my God, I didn’t see them. He didn’t act like he was hurt!”

She smiles at me, “Not the kind of guy who would.”