Bazel nodded but was still a little wary. Evie was a good dog, but back home, they roamed in packs sometimes, snatching at food and fighting with each other over what they could find. Most didn’t have the kind of life that Evie had. Lots of people didn’t either. Evie had plenty of food, a good place to live and sleep, and someone to care for her. Back home, Bazel didn’t have any of that. He had eaten when he could and slept where it was safe. And nobody loved him, that was for sure. Not his family. He lowered his gaze as he thought about it. He was a disgrace to them. He had thought that maybe things might be different here. Nobody knew what he had done, so he wasn’t sure. It was best if he kept all that to himself. But it was hard with Atlas’s big eyes and broad shoulders. He also looked at him sometimes…. Bazel wondered if he was looking… in that way… or not. He wasn’t sure and didn’t dare take a chance.
“I have to ask, do you know how to cook other things?”
Bazel nodded slowly. “Why? You like?”
“Yes, I do. If you make a list of some of the ingredients, in English, I’ll try to get them for you.”
He liked that Atlas enjoyed his cooking. Food like this reminded him of home and better times there. Bazel did his best to push away the tougher memories. Nothing was going to change them, and he had to concentrate on making a future for himself here. “I will think about it.”
Atlas cleared the dishes and placed them in the sink. Then he answered the phone and spoke softly before hanging up. “I have to go to a scene. They need my help. You can watch television if you like. But keep the doors closed and locked. Evie and I shouldn’t be gone for very long.”
“Oh.”
Atlas was already putting the harness on Evie, and then they left, with him locking the door behind him. Bazel went to the room with the television and sat down. He thought of watching something but didn’t see the use. Instead, he went to the backyard to finish his work. Atlas had gotten him nice clothes and what he called snack cakes, and Bazel was not going to sit around and do nothing. He had a debt to work off, and he fully intended to.
In the garage, he found the tools and went back outside, picking up where he’d left off the previous day. There were plenty of weeds to remove, and the grass kept trying to grow in. But he knew he was up to the task.
AN HOURpassed and then a second one. Bazel continued working and made a lot of headway. Some of the plants had died, leaving gaps in the beds. He dug them out and loosened up the earth so that when they replanted, the new flowers would have a chance to really get going. After a while, he found himself turning toward the gate at any sound, hoping it was Atlas returning home. He wondered what he was going to do when his time with Atlas was over.
His greatest fear was that they were going to send him back. Bazel had no life in Georgia. There was nothing at all for him there. He turned back to what he’d been doing and redoubled his efforts. Somehow he had to be able to show people that he was good for something. He was probably being dumb. After all, he was just some stupid man from a small village on the other side of the world who had made his way here through blind luck and good fortune. Bazel knew that this wasn’t likely to continue and that what he feared most was likely to come to pass.
The back gate to the yard rattled, and he jumped and grew quiet, hoping that whoever was on the other side of it wouldjust go away. They didn’t. Bazel hurried inside and closed the back door. He stayed out of sight while watching out one of the back windows as the gate eventually opened and a strange man stepped into the yard. He looked tough, in black jeans and a dark shirt. The man was large with big muscles and seemed to take in the scene around him. Bazel stayed still, his back plastered to the wall as the man wandered through the yard. He picked up the tools Bazel had been using and then dropped them before striding toward the house.
Bazel crouched low and out of sight, listening as the back door rattled once. Then it was quiet. Bazel sat still, not daring to move to find out what was happening. After a minute, the back door opened, and Bazel wondered what he was going to do. On the table near him was a large pot. He picked it up, ready to throw it at the man, hoping to hit him hard enough that he could get away. It was a lame plan, but it was all he had, and Bazel tensed, waiting for the man to come around the corner and into the room.
Instead, Evie bounded in, coming right up to him. She blinked, and Bazel set the pot back on the table and hugged her around the neck, burying his face in her fur as he allowed himself to let go of the fear that had gripped him.
“Bazel?” Atlas asked.
He lifted his face. “There was man in backyard. He came through gate. I not know him. He tried to get in.” He held Evie, and she let him as Atlas strode back out the door. He was gone for a few minutes.
“There’s no one there now. The back gate was open, and I closed and locked it again.” Atlas crouched down in front of him. “Can you tell me what he looked like?”
“Black pants, dark shirt, big, muscles like you… strong. Not pretty.” He forced himself to stand.
Atlas nodded and made some notes in a book he pulled from his pocket. “Did he have any marks on his face or tattoos? That sort of thing?”
Bazel thought. “He had marks, here. On back of hand and up arm.” This was a man he did not want to see again. “What you think he want?”
“I don’t know. It’s not one of my friends. If it had been, he wouldn’t have left when Evie and I got back. It will be all right. I’ll share this with Wyatt at the state police. Maybe they have more information.”
“Okay.” Bazel looked out into the yard. “I put tools away.”
He was reluctant to go back out, but Atlas came with him, along with Evie, who sniffed around before locating one of her balls and bringing it to Atlas, who tossed it for her. Bazel gathered the tools and put them back in the garage before closing the door.
“This is looking really nice.”
“You need new plants,” Bazel said. “Some died.”
“Then I can take you to the nursery and we can pick out what we want to put in,” Atlas offered, throwing the ball once more. Evie seemed happy, but Bazel could tell that Atlas was tense. He kept looking toward the gate, and Bazel saw his muscles were stiff and his mouth a straight line. He knew that meant Atlas was thinking.
“Do they try to get me back?” Bazel asked.
“I don’t know,” Atlas told him. “I wish I knew everything that was going on. Usually in a situation like this, they try to keep you from seeing anything so that if you are found, you don’t know anything. But….” He continued looking at the gate. “I don’t know.”
“Me too,” Bazel said. He wished he did. All of this was because of him, and he didn’t know anything. He really wished he could help Atlas and the other policemen. He did. But hehadn’t seen anyone, and they had been in the back of that truck for so long. At more than one point, Bazel had thought he was going to die. It had been so hot, and once they ran out of water, all they could do was lie on the floor or sit against the side of the truck. Hour after hour there was nothing at all they could do. They were at the mercy of the man driving and the people who had locked them in there. Bazel wanted answers as to why someone would do that to them. But maybe he was never going to get any.
Chapter 5
