《Terms and Conditions》After the Dog

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“FOLLOW THE DOG.”

“Stapes,” Timothy corrected, “his name is Stapes, doctor. And it should be easy for you to remember, being a doctor and all.”

“Staples, yes, I suppose it should be easy for me to remember that,” the doctor replied thoughtfully, “as I do go through many stapled documents daily. Though it’s really Donna that does all the stapling. I never really liked doing those boring office tasks.”

Timothy groaned.

They were running after Stapes, who had suddenly taken flight in the middle of his barking. Timothy was running even deeper into the forest. Nearly all light was blocked by the towering pine trees. Every step made needles shower onto his head. Stapes was at an advantage and the ground between them was quickly expanding. Stapes could leap over bushes and twigs easily, while Timothy had to backtrack and find ways to get around these obstacles.

“Come on, you guys, stop arguing,” Oakley hissed, “You’re already lagging behind.”

“Only because you’re going too fast!” Timothy replied, “I’ve got stomach cramps now!”

“Boohoo. Maybe the doctor would take a look and put a little ointment and a pink bandage. I’m sure your stomach cramps are painful. Would you like a glass of water? Or a hot bowl of soup?”

“You’re just as bad as the doctor!” Timothy wheezed.

“Well, if I had to deal with idiots like you every day, of course I’d become the doctor!”

“Someone gets it!” The doctor exclaimed happily. “To be fair, though, you would also classify as one of the ‘idiots.’ Who eats raw fish at some shady restaurant in a tiny town? Any biologist should know the risks.”

“Wrong, the medical people know the risks, the biologist—” Oakley was cut off by a loud thud. She turned her head.

Timothy was on the ground, his clothes covered with dirt.

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“Now what?” Oakley yelled with exasperation.

“I fell over a tree root,” Timothy replied pathetically, his voice muffled by the ground.

“Get up, then.” Oakley sounded a lot like an impatient mother.

“It’s cold. I don’t want to get up,” Timothy replied, fulfilling his role as a stubborn child.

“Then you will never see Stapes again.”

“He’ll come back eventually, I’m sure. I think I’ll just stay here.”

“Come on, you pathetic excuse for a human!” the Doctor urged, dragging Timothy by the arm, “Get up.”

“For some strange reason, I’m feeling déjà vu.”

“Guys, quite down!” Oakley whispered urgently, “I hear something.”

“Yeah, me too. It’s the wind. I’m freezing in it!” Timothy shivered for effect. “Hey, doctor, can you stop dragging me? It’s hurting my back.”

“No, something else.”

Stapes began barking loudly nearby. They had lost sight of him. Timothy looked around the trees wildly, searching for his dog. “Yeah, nice job Sherlock,” he teased, “that sound was my dog. Where the is he? Stapes!”

“Oy, quiet down! I have to hear his bark.”

“Ugh,” Timothy rolled his eyes, “Do you know anything about dogs? Doctor, let go of me. I’m getting up to look for my dog.”

“A few minutes ago, you said your dog would eventually come back too you,” the doctor observed, “yet now, you’re standing up to look for Staples!”

“Stapes,” Timothy corrected.

Stapes barked in return.

“Stapes!”

The dog began barking wildly again. Sticks and leaves crunched. The malamute pounced out from behind two large pine trees.

“You idiot!” Oakley yelled, “now we have no idea where the dog went!”

“Oh, I’m sure Stapes can find you stupid metal.” Timothy sniffed. “Do you guys smell that too?”

It was a pungent smell of feces and iron. Not even the pine could cover it. Timothy gagged. “It’s so strong. My nose is runny and freezing, yet it’s still so smelly! Stapes, what were you up to?”

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As if to answer, Stapes barked and turned around, back through the bushes. Oakley sprinted to catch up, followed by the doctor. Not even Timothy could contain his curiosity, and he followed after them as well.

They chased the small dog through thorny bushes. Timothy wished they knew where they were going. That way, Timothy could find some better path to walk through. Thorns were no fun. “Stapes, where are we going?” he whined. “Why couldn’t you just be a good boy and tell me? Why couldn’t I just have been a good man and stayed inside the house? Why did I have to follow the doctor?” Timothy ranted on.

“It’s all your fault, Stapes. Why did you have that tracking device in the first place? Who put it there? So annoying.”

“Stop talking!” Oakley and the doctor yelling in unison.

Timothy stopped talking, largely because he didn’t have the breath to.

It was only a few more thorny bushes later that Stapes stopped and barked. He had a very good reason to.

It was a scene of a crime. Blood was everywhere, splattered on trees and leaves. The pungent was everywhere. It was undoubtfully the smell of blood.

“Is…is that human blood?” Timothy whispered in horror.

The doctor snorted, then burst out laughing. “Ha! I knew it! You were secretly hopeful that we’d find something! Why in the world did you think it was human blood? It came from that rabbit.”

“Of course I hoped we found something important! I didn’t want to run all the way here for a rabbit!”

Oakley sat down, defeated. “It’s a rabbit. Only a rabbit. I wasted all my energy for a rabbit,” she muttered. “I’m sorry, guys. I probably was hallucinating after all, when I saw that large ship.”

“That’s what I thought!” Timothy replied angrily. “I’m going home and making a large mug of hot coffee. I had enough. Stapes, come on.”

Something rustled in the dark bushes to the right. All three of their heads turned. The rustling stopped, then started again.

They held their breath.

More rustling now. It sounded desperate, like something trying to escape. Timothy held his hand over Stapes’s mouth, to keep him from barking.

Slowly, Oakley advanced, a large stick in her hand. She approached the bush silently. Then, without warning, she brought her hand down on the bush.

A little animal squealed, and darted away.

“What was that? A squirrel?” Timothy asked.

“No,” Oakley turned back, her eyes wide and confused, “That was a ferret. Covered with blood.”

“The same ferret you saw the other day?” the doctor asked.

“The one that led me to the large black thing.”

Timothy breathed in sharply, which he immediately regretted because the cold air hurt his lungs. “Tell me,” he gasped, “are ferrets common around here?”

“No. That’s what’s strange. I don’t think a ferret would ever appear around these woods, unless it’s an escaped pet.”

The doctor looked at Timothy with confusion, before it clicked. “Timothy, are you talking about the dream?”

Timothy nodded.

“Dream?” Oakley demanded.

But the doctor was lost in thought. “It can’t be a coincidence,” he muttered, “the ferret, the ship, and the metal. How come all three odd things appeared in the same place? There has to be a reason.”

“What dream?” Oakley repeated.

“I’ll tell you,” Timothy replied, “But only if we go somewhere that’s warm.”

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