Gliese 581c
an excerpt

Matt’s month couldn’t get any worse. Unlike Kenzie, he forgot to say, “White rabbits, white rabbits, White rabbits for luck.” Kenzie always reminded him at the end of every month. Like his hometown team, the Oilers, he couldn’t catch a break. He hadn’t found a roommate. Kenzie was moving out December first, only two weeks away, and things were now so awkward between them, he almost wished she would leave now. She had landed on her feet--with a new job as an editor for a new Edmonton lifestyle magazine. She was moving in with Brenda at her downtown skyscraper condo--it had all the bells and whistles, an ostentatious lobby, a fitness club and a roof garden--all the thing she had scorned in the past. She was even making plans to adopt a kitten from a rescue society. Whatever.
Matt had put an ad in the paper for a roommate--a few students had replied, but his skyrocketing rent was too rich for them. How could a student afford $700 a month, just for rent? Edmonton was getting as bad as Toronto. He decided that he might as well make plans to move himself. Rookie was gone--he hadn’t giving up on finding the dog, but there hadn’t been a single sighting. He even put an ad in the Edmonton Journal, asking for anyone spotting a blue-eyed Border collie to call any time and leave a message, and offered a $100 reward. He hadn’t received a single call. That was just like Rookie-he would make a great CSIS secret agent, operating in stealth under darkness. Where was he going? Had someone nabbed him--his startling blue eyes were dazzled like Jasper’s Maligne Lake. Did someone fancy the blue-eyed dog? Matt remembered how somebody offered him $200 once for the dog--when he was leaving him in the car to pop into the library. The man claimed that he had just put his geriatric Border collie down, and longed for a replacement. Rookie was his spitting image, except his dog had one blue eye and one brown. Rookie was only two years old, and he was in perfect shape--and the man was clearly disappointed when Matt said his dog was not for sale. He had a paranoid thought--had the old farmer followed his car home and then waited to dognap the Border collie. Even if he had, Rook would find his way home even if the old guy lived on a farm. That’s how smart Border collies were. He did think maybe the disappearance had something to do with Rookie not being fixed. Maybe he had run off because of a female dog in heat--he and Kenzie had been remiss about getting him fixed--the money never seems to be there for the neutering. And as he had barely noticed female dogs before, and never tried to hump them, in their presence anyhow. It wasn’t like him to run off--he hadn’t before. But if there was a dog in heat in the neighbourhood, he might have run off to sow his wild oats. That had to be it, he thought. He couldn’t imagine such a devoted dog leaving for even a spot of humping. Wouldn’t he be back in hours?
Matt’s skydiving job was in Gibbons, 45 minutes north of the city. He had to be there in an hour, but had a few minutes for a quick coffee before he left. He plopped himself down in his beanbag chair, spilling a bit of coffee on the hardwood floor, and picked up the newspaper. He wondered if he could find a cheaper basement apartment out there--he wasn’t in the mood to talk to a room mate. Maybe the owner wouldn’t mind a dog in case Rookie showed up. As he pored over the classifieds, the phone rang.
“Matt? This is Mike Boychuk,” the deep voice said.
“Mike?” The name rang a bell.
“Out in Vegreville. I met you and your wife three weeks ago. Took her over to the hospital.”
“Oh, you mean my girlfriend, Kenzie. Do you still have the crop circles? Is your place still a zoo with all the onlookers?
“No, thank goodness. They’ve all gone--it was a novelty for a while. The crime scene tape is down and the crop circles have been trampled on by the last of the UFO set.”
Matt chuckled. Yeah, right.
“How is Kenzie doing?” asked Mike. “Has she recovered?”
“Actually she is doing great,” he said in a monotone that belied the truth. But he would pass a lie detector test. Her life was better than ever. She just wasn’t the same person anymore, and she was no longer connected to him despite the fact that they both still lived here and shared the same bed. If her toe ever touched his leg, it was an accident and she would flinch. What could he say? Well, she had a personality change at the crop circle, but other than that things are cool. It was nice of the farmer to call and check up on her. He wondered how he got their number, but he probably got it from Kenzie when he found her passed out on his land.
“The reason why I am calling is about your dog.”
“Rookie?” Matt could barely contain himself. “Something had happened to Rookie?”
“Yes, he has showed up at the farm. I noticed him a few hours ago. Did you lose him before you headed home?”
“No, he ran off from our flat in Edmonton. I have been looking for him for days. I never figured he would head out your way again. How is he? Is he injured? Is he sick?”
“No, he looks pretty skinny--and he seems stressed out, but I can’t get close enough to find out if he has been injured.”
Oh man. Something must have really spooked Rookie. Would he take off again? Matt was beginning to worry. Kenzie wasn’t the only one with a personality change.
“Well, he is sitting out there next to the crop circle, or at least the trampled crop circle. He won’t budge from there. It’s like he is waiting for someone.”
“What? Get out?” A thought ran through his head. Was he waiting for the old Kenzie? Had her energy remained there? He thought of the story of Peter Pan and how he lost his shadow, and how Wendy had to sew it back on. Had Kenzie left her latest personality at the crop circle like? Could it be re-attached, he mused to himself.
“Can you put some food and water out for him?” asked Matt.
“I put some food out for him by the homestead, so my dogs wouldn’t help themselves, but so far he hasn’t eaten it. I notice he has a big bone out there sitting next to him. Looks like a buffalo bone. He was spooked by my approach at the circle and I didn’t want to scare him away.”
“That’s his Border collie personality coming out,” chuckled Matt. “I can’t believe he made it that far--and never got hit by a vehicle out on the highway,” said Matt. “How far is it to Vegreville from Edmonton?”
“Just over 100 kilometers.’
“One hundred kilometers! Man, did he travel along the Yellowhead, I wonder. It’s a wonder he wasn’t killed by one of those semis.”
Why hadn’t he thought to look for Rookie out in Vegreville?
When did he run away?”
“Just a day or so after we got home. I have been combing the river valley for him--checking the pound and the Humane Society every day for him. I even put an ad in the paper,” he admitted. “I never thought he would return to your farm. That is so strange.”
“Well, he’s here if you want to come out and get him anytime. I’m always here, but if I’m not, you should find him at the crop circle. I did see him nosing around the old Kovalchuk homestead too. That’s why I set the food and water out there.” Finally, Matt was catching a break in life.
“Look, Mike, I have to head off to work now, and I won’t be able to get out there until noon tomorrow at the earliest. I really appreciate that you have called me, and have been putting out some food and water for him.”
“Not a problem. I am a dog person too. And a Border collie person.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him until you get here,” said the farmer. My dogs like all other dogs, so maybe they will be able to make friends with him. “It’s pretty dry out here. But if it rains or snows tonight, he can find shelter in the old homestead.”
Matt was still over the moon when he had a sudden thought. Would Kenzie offer to pick him up right away? Her job wasn’t starting until the end of the month. Surely she would be happy to hear Rookie was safe and sound. He could give it a shot anyhow.
Matt went downstairs to where Kenzie was waxing her new Nissan Versa. She sounded happy to hear the news that Rookie was safe--and amazed that he had travelled so far, but that’s as far as it went. Rookie was Matt’s dog now. She had bought a new car, and didn’t want to get dog hair in it. Dog hair. Rookie could have been roadkill--they find out he is alive--and she is worried about friggin’ dog hair. He muttered a cuss word under his breath.
The next day when Matt turned down the airport road in Vegreville, he saw smoke. A fire truck barrelled past him on the way to town, sending gravel spinning onto his windshield. No worries. The windshield already had a crack from side to side. There was smoke and it looked to be coming from the Boychuk farm. It wasn’t the farmhouse or barn--it was a building farther north. Matt sucked in his breath when he realized it was the old homestead that Kenzie had raved about so many times--he could see it engulfed in flames--there wasn’t a chance to save the tiny bit of history--the place must be tinder dry in the rainless fall. Matt had only one thing on his mind. His dog. Matt looked around for Rookie but couldn’t see him anywhere. But Rookie was spooked by fireworks--he had vanished once for a week one Canada Day. A fire would frighten him as well. Matt pulled up a ways from the fire truck and water truck, and jumped out, racing to the scene. There was one fire truck still there, soaking potential hot spots. Mike was watching from his tractor--“What happened?” he asked, out of breath.
‘Arson,” said Mike grimly. “The hoodlums must have come back and set the place on fire.” “They had been coming out here from town for a while, using the place as a party shack--covered the walls with graffiti.”
“Are these the same guys that made the crop circle?” Matt asked.
“I’m pretty sure. I was going out there last night to have a talk with them, and I took my dogs for protection. I saw a cigarette lit in the darkness, so I know someone was hanging out there,” he said. “But when I got there, the person or persons had vanished.”
“You never spoke to them?”
Mike shook his head. “But I saw Rookie. He came running from the direction of the crop circle. He played a bit with my dogs, but when I went to leave, he refused to come with me and the dogs.”
“Did he stay here?” asked Matt, panicking a bit.
“I’m afraid so. He was sitting on the homestead porch when I went back to the main house.”
“When did you notice the fire?”
“My wife woke me up. She smelled smoke, and when we looked out the window, the homestead was engulfed in flames.”
Matt looked alarmed. “Have you seen Rookie since the fire? I didn’t notice him at the crop circle, or anywhere around.”
“The last time I saw him was sleeping on the porch of the homestead earlier yesterday. He wasn’t there when I investigated the lit cigarette.”
Matt’s face looked downcast. Surely the dog escaped harm. He wouldn’t have been locked in the homestead. It’s not like you could lock that place, could you?
He farmer started walking to the crop circle--maybe he was hiding behind a hay bale, he suggested. They both began calling his name. “Rookie! Rook, c’mere boy!”
There was no sound except the cawing of the crows, and the hum of the fire truck behind them. Matt noticed something shiny in the middle of the main circle--since the circles had been trampled, he went to pick it up. It was Kenzie’s watch, and the watch had stopped. It was 11:58 p.m. It was weird none of the crowd had picked it up. He was used to spotting things on the ground-he was always finding lucky pennies. “Found Kenzie’s watch,” he called to the farmer.
But Mike was talking to a fireman who had walked over from the charred homestead.
The farmer looked distraught. He was shaking his head as the fireman handed him something red.
It was Rookie’s leather collar.
There was no use looking for him now. He was lost--then found. Now he was gone for good.