The End of the Road

The doorbell rang, and within a second’s time, I barked. Amy came forward to open the door. “It’s not him.”, she said, “I told you, he won’t be back soon.” I could almost hear her words every time the bell rang. It was funny how she knew who I was waiting for. It was even funnier how she did not seem nearly as concerned as I was. It was her husband we were waiting for, not mine! 

Things had gotten strange ever since he went to war. No body spoke to me in a million different languages and asked me if I understood. After two continuous days of barking, I decided I was going to have to wait, and so I did. I looked at the grandfather clock every now and then. I never liked it that they called the clock that. It reminds me of my granddad. He, too, went to war and never came back. What a brilliant man he was! And here, we’re talking about Amy’s father-in-law, and Amma’s husband. I wondered what she felt about it and looked at her. She was weaving something, quietly humming a tune. I went to her. She smiled at me.

Just then, little Sara came. She was holding something. It was a newspaper. It had a picture. It was his friend’s picture! My friend wasn’t dead, was he? I looked from one face to the next, but no one seemed to notice my anxiety. They were all busy with their own work. Just then, the telephone rang, and so did the doorbell. Oh! Everything was happening so fast, or maybe I was getting old! The person at the door was the milkman, and the person on the telephone was Sara’s friend.

As Sara left to take the phone, I hoped she had left the paper behind. A little excited, I turned around, but saw no paper. It wasn’t even in Sara’s hand! I had to find it! I went into the bedroom. It wasn’t there, so I came back to the living room. It had to be there. I sniffed around. I smelt it! It was under the sofa. I got my head as far inside as I could, and brought the paper back in one piece. I gave it to Amy. As soon as she read it, her eyes went wide at first, and then filled up with tears. “He’s dead!” she said.

“What?” said Amma.

“His friend is dead!” 

“We must call and ask about my son!” 

They dialled a number and Amma spoke, while I let Amy hug me.

“He’s only a little hurt.” Amma reported.

“Oh! Thank goodness!” came Amy’s quick reply.”

“He will be back tomorrow!” 

That part was unexpected. I was so happy and so excited that I could feel my tail wagging!

The next day, Amma went out to greet him, as I watched from the window. She thought she would never see him again, and yet, there he was at the end of the road, his arms wide open.