Devoted(32)
Kids, bookstore, law office: Bella’s days were busy, filled with play and affection, walks with Andrea, runs with Bill, games with the kids, public relations work at the bookstore. Bella was never bored.
In addition, she had a secret life.
The Montells were aware that their dog was quite smart, but they didn’t have a clue as to the extent of her intelligence.
They knew nothing of the Mysterium.
They didn’t know she retrieved books from their library and read them at night.
When she was much younger, Bella decided that revealing her true nature would be unfair to the children.
To develop a healthy psychology and the right measure of self-esteem, every growing child needed to stand center stage, in the spotlight, from time to time.
Once Bella had revealed the truth of herself, the center stage would always be hers, no matter how she insisted on relinquishing it to each child.
Anyway, what was to be gained by openly being an intelligent dog in a world that had not yet found any use for such a thing?
She loved the Montell children. She wanted them to have normal lives, each with opportunities to be the center of attention.
Some other members of the Mysterium had shaped their lives as Bella had shaped hers.
Sometimes there was sadness in not openly being all that you should be, the person that you really were. But, again, there was happiness on top of the sadness.
Maintaining her secret had certain advantages, not least of all that she knew more about each child than Andrea and Bill knew, more than she would know if the kids realized how smart she really was.
When they were at risk of going astray, she had the canine wiles with which to subtly steer them back on course.
When that didn’t work, she had become clever at bringing the problem to the attention of Andrea and Bill without them always realizing who was the agent of revelation.
In addition to being one of five Montell siblings and their clandestine nanny as well, Bella was the editor of the Wire.
The Wire could be turned on and off like a radio. Not all members of the Mysterium were listening at all times.
However, it was possible to send an insistent message that would open even closed neural pathways and ensure that everyone received it.
Bella’s job was to gather important news and share it in a timely manner.
She had volunteered to remain open for transmissions during daylight hours.
She didn’t have to worry about spreading rumors and untruths. No member of the Mysterium had ever known a dog to lie.
On this Wednesday evening, as the Montell family sat for dinner in the dining room, Bella curled on a bed in the corner, pretending to sleep, when in fact she had big news to impart to her kind.
Bellagram. As reported two weeks ago, Rusty and Mandy, members of the Donald and Georgina Curtis family of Corte Madera, were pleased to announce five pups, by far the largest known Mysterium litter at that time. All remain healthy. Now all five are transmitting telepathically at a limited distance and are able to quick-learn language by the Wire.
They should be able to transmit at a distance soon. Donald and Georgina Curtis are fully aware of Rusty’s and Mandy’s nature, and are prepared to keep all five pups. Much joy in Corte Madera.
Something exciting is happening out there. Just today, Caesar and Cleo, members of the Robert and Mei-Mei Ishigawa family of San Jose, produced a litter of six, all healthy. Robert and Mei-Mei are likewise aware of the Mysterium, and the offspring will remain in the family.
We have long wondered where we came from, why we are here, and why there are so few of us. If suddenly our numbers are increasing, perhaps answers to our first two questions, the reason for our existence, will soon be revealed to us. Rejoice. Be true. Stay tuned.
28
Ben Hawkins stopped at a Tahoe City market to buy a case of canned gourmet dog food not unlike what Dorothy had served, as well as deli sandwiches for his own dinner.
Kipp waited in the Range Rover. He didn’t mind. He wasn’t lonely. A colorful variety of people came and went from the market. Especially when unaware that they were being watched, human beings were always interesting.
When Ben returned, he said, “I knew you wouldn’t steal the Rover and leave me stranded. Maybe a poodle, but not you.”
They traveled a few miles farther to Olympic Valley, which was twenty-five miles or so from Dorothy’s house above the lake.
They were still moving toward the boy who murmured all but constantly on the Wire. Before morning, Kipp hoped to determine if Ben expected to continue in that direction.
Olympic Valley offered four-star accommodations at Squaw Valley Lodge and at the Resort at Squaw Creek.
However, anti-dog bigotry required Kipp and Ben to take a room at a two-star operation. Enlightenment was ever ongoing.
The mom-and-pop owners had a dog of their own. He was a Welsh corgi named Llewellyn.
He came out through the gate in the checkin counter to greet Kipp. He had stubby legs and a beautiful coat.
Llewellyn smelled of oatmeal-based shampoo. On his breath were cooked carrots, green beans, and poached chicken, which he evidently had been given for dinner.
If Llewellyn’s weight and height were a disadvantage in any contest with a larger dog, they were ideal when it came to being in the best position to sniff Kipp’s crotch and butt.
Llewellyn seemed surprised when Kipp failed to return this traditional greeting.