Atlas shook his head. “Maybe. But you know what else would happen before that.”
“Yes I know and I afraid for them. But you help? You catch them?”
“Yes. Or they will do that to other people. I wish I could help everyone. I want to help you and the others who were with you. But I can’t unless you help me, if you can.”
Bazel looked confused. “I can’t tell you anything more than what I already did. I didn’t see anything from inside the truck, and we weren’t let out. It scary and I worry a lot. You havedriver. He must help.” That was all he could tell them. He didn’t understand why they expected him to know something he couldn’t. “I not help. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Atlas said.
“Okay. Can we go now? Get food for others?” Bazel was already on his feet.
“Yes. And we can get clothes for you.”
Bazel looked down. “I like these clothes. They smell like you.” He inhaled and then went to the door, leaving Atlas standing in the middle of the room. He didn’t move for a while, and Bazel wondered if he had heard, but then Atlas joined him, and they went outside with Evie. It seemed she was coming too. Bazel liked that. Atlas was gentler when she was there. He spoke softly to her and smiled a lot when they were together. Bazel thought Atlas should smile more—it made him prettier. “You come, yes?” He headed out to Atlas’s car and waited for him to unlock it before getting in. Evie rode in the back seat, and once they arrived at a big store with red and white circles on it, Atlas put a harness on Evie and they all went inside.
“Evie is working now… sort of. It’s the only way they will let her in the store,” Atlas explained. Bazel barely paid attention as he looked around. It seemed to him like there was everything in the entire world all in one place.
“You need a couple pairs of pants, a couple shirts, and underthings, socks, and a pair of shoes.” He rattled off the list. “It’s this way.”
“Okay.” Bazel stopped at a display of what looked like bright colored food. “What this?”
“It’s cakes with icing and sprinkles.” He made a face. “Kids like them.”
“Oh,” Bazel said, because sometimes things just weren’t fair. He should be used to seeing things he couldn’t have by now. It had happened plenty back home.
“Let’s go look at the clothes. We’ll come back here.” He got a big red cart and let Bazel push it with Atlas and Evie leading the way. There was so much to see that he went slow, averting his eyes when they passed the clothes for women. It didn’t feel right for him to see such things. When they got to men’s clothes, Atlas showed him various things. Some he shrugged off, but there was a nice blue shirt with yellow designs on it that he liked, and Atlas put one in the cart. There was a green one too. Bazel got two pairs of pants and a plastic package of underwear as well. The socks were easy, but shoes seemed so hard. There were all colors and designs. Then he had to figure out his size, and by the time he was done, Bazel was exhausted.
They went up to the register, and Bazel waited while Atlas paid and handed him the bag of clothes. “Peek inside,” Atlas said, so Bazel looked and smiled at the box of cake things on top.
“How I pay?” Bazel asked. “Can I get job?”
“Not yet. But you can work for me if you like. I figure the yard work you did is worth the cost of the clothes.” They walked toward the door with Bazel holding the bag of clothes. Evie kept pace with both of them. “Now to the grocery store. Do you know what you need?”
Bazel nodded. “I write down.” He handed Atlas a list, and Atlas looked at it and handed it back.
“I don’t think that’s going to help me.” He smiled. “I can’t quite read that.” Bazel giggled to himself, because of course he had used Cyrillic script. “But the writing is very pretty. I like how it flows.”
“We figure out?” Bazel asked, and Atlas nodded.
“Definitely.”
BAZEL WASjust as fascinated with the grocery store and found everything he needed with the help off Google translate. Theybrought the food home, and he started cutting and dicing. Atlas showed him where the pans were and helped him make the dumplings. Then they made the meat skewers and flat bread, putting everything together the way his mother had. At least, it was close. Once it was done and they had both tasted it, Atlas called Chris, and she came over and tasted it too. The scent of coriander and dill permeated the air and made him hungry.
“You are a very good cook,” Chris told him. “I will take this to the women. I promise.”
Atlas helped him pack it in containers, and she left with the food. “Is there enough for us?” he asked. Bazel dished up some for Atlas, and they sat down to eat. “I really like this. It’s different and so good.” Atlas ate a lot and he burped a few times, which made Bazel smile.
“I glad,” he said, eating some as well. “You eat a lot.”
“It’s very good.” Bazel looked to Evie, who lay on her mat near the outside kitchen door. “It’s too spicy for her. And I don’t feed her food from the table. It’s part of her training.”
“I see. She is very smart dog.”
“Yes. She is. To be part of the K-9 unit, you have to have a dog to partner with, and they thought Evie wasn’t going to be good enough, but we worked hard and she showed them. Not every dog and officer team work well together. You have to find the right fit, the right partner,” Atlas explained, and Bazel nodded, even though he didn’t quite understand all that Atlas had told him. Sometimes when words were new, it took him a while to try to piece together the meaning.
“How long you have her?”
“Three years. She’s almost six years old. She should be able to work for another two or three years, and then I’d have to find another dog or leave the K-9 unit. I don’t want to do that if I can help it. So in a few years I’ll start looking for a new dog so shecan retire when the time comes. But I dread that day, because it’s hard finding a dog as good and as special as she is.”
