Page 85 of Last Light

“Yeah. I know. But look how clean it is. If it’s been sitting out here for so long, it should be covered with dirt. Why is it clean?”

Travis’s hair is messy, and he needs to shave. He’s pulled on a pair of sweatpants but isn’t wearing any other clothes. “Don’t know.”

“Do you suppose the dog is still hanging around here and comes over to lick at his bowl?”

“Long time for a dog to survive on his own. Gotta be six months or a year since that fella out there died.”

“I know. But dogs are pretty good scavengers, aren’t they? And why else would that dish be so clean?”

“Guess it’s possible.”

I make up my mind. “I saw some dog food down in the cellar. I’m going to go get some and fill the bowl. Maybe the poor dog will come back.”

Travis is gazing down at me with just a hint of a smile on the corners of his lips. I’m not sure why, but his expression makes my heart skip.

“Guess it’s worth a try. If there is a dog still lurkin’ around, he’s bound to be half-starved.”

The water is boiling when we go back inside, so Travis takes care of the oatmeal while I get some dog food out of the cellar. I fill up the bowl outside, looking around at the yard, the workshop, and the trees surrounding the clearing. There’s no sign of any animals at all.

It’s a long shot that a dog could possibly have survived. Even wild animals have barely scraped by for the past few years.

But maybe.

It won’t hurt.

I leave the food outside as I go back in to eat breakfast with Travis.

He found some coffee in a cupboard, so it’s a really good morning.

***

ISPEND MOST OF THEmorning doing our laundry.

I have to be firm with Travis to get him to elevate his ankle. He wants to help me, but he finally relents when I won’t back down.

So he lies on the couch with ice on his ankle while I clean our clothes, towels, sleeping bag, and blanket—all of which are in pretty bad shape.

The house doesn’t have a regular washer and dryer, but it has an old-fashioned wringer washer and a clothesline outside to hang them up. It takes me a long time to wash and hang everything, but I’m pleased when I finally finish. Since it’s warm and not raining, they should dry fine before it gets dark.

I’m hot and tired and sweating a little when I go back inside to check on Travis.

He’s still stretched out on the couch, but he’s frowning at me.

“Don’t whine,” I tell him. “You need to rest your ankle.”

“Didn’t say a word.”

“Your expression is whining.”

“But you’ve been doin’ all the work while I lie here like a lump.”

“I haven’t been doing that much work.”

“Yes, you have. Look at you.”

I glance down at myself. I’m wearing one of the T-shirts and a pair of drawstring shorts from the man who owned the house, and they’re way too big for me. I know I look ridiculous, but I wanted to wash everything that fits me. I made Travis change into the guy’s clothes so I could wash his stuff too.

“What do you mean, look at me?”

---