the glow pond

When Mitchie and I reached the forest deck, he stayed close to my feet until we were on the soft soil path of the park. I wondered if he liked the gentle way the ground held his feet. The wood chips and sliding mud. It was quiet here. The night forest was more alive and yet more private than the daytime section of the forest deck. Both of them had their charms, but I wanted to show Mitchie the glow pond. When I am getting to know somebody, when I think it matters, I always feel like I want to share a secret. 

One or two people sat on benches, and Mitchie took a few steps toward them, but then seemed to lose interest. They weren't interested in us, either. Thank god. I was tired of talking to strangers. Was this whole goddamn spaceship full of people?

 I walked slowly, enjoying the cool air. This was the night forest. The sky was darker here. There were occasional lampposts along the path. Mitchie went and stuck his face in the moss and small leaves at the edge of the path. Less than five minutes in the forest and I was already jealous of his straightforward embrace of life here. I had been afraid to even walk on those small leaves. It would never have occurred to me to shove my face in them. To open my mouth and try to be a part of all this life in the stupidest most satisfying way.  

Mitchie teeter-tottered ahead of me, and then he flopped down in the dirt. He rolled back and forth, with his three legs up in the air, bent and awkward. He looked at me with his upside-down face.

"What?" I said.

He rolled over completely, so that he was on his belly, still looking at me. 

"Don't go too far," I told him. And he jumped to his feet, not afraid, but playful. "I mean it," I said, and his tongue lolled out of his mouth and he dashed off into the dark. I followed him. He dashed ahead, and I walked. I caught up with him and he rolled around and then dashed off into the dark again. I walked and caught up with him. It was like a game. A very dumb game. But he seemed happy. I liked that part.

Far down the path, we reached the glow pond. There were no other visitors. It made me uncomfortable to watch the glow pond unless I was alone. I felt exposed. Like my awe and peace were on display. It was so much better to stand in the dark where nobody could see me. The water was still and black under the canopy of trees. It looked like you could walk right across the surface, it was so calm. 

There were benches near the edge of the pond. I sat down on one while Mitchie rolled in the dirt. I liked that there was no lamppost here. There was one back at the path, glowing warmly, so we could see. But it didn't overpower the sense of being alone or the dark peace here beside the water. I looked around in the dirt for a rock, but there was nothing. 

Mitchie walked to the edge of the pond and began to drink. It was unexpected but not surprising. He lapped at the water with the same crazy energy he had taken to the water dish in the hallway. I wonder what the water tasted like, ribboned with hidden life. Mitchie splashed and gulped. He didn't care who saw him enjoying the pond's strange charms. Waves rippled out from his thrashing, and behind each one, the water began to faintly glow. Waves of phosphorescence that glimmered and faded and then glimmered again, until the whole pond was a series of soft rings of light growing out from Mitchie like enormous halos in the darkness.

When he was done drinking he came and flopped down at my feet. He didn't jump at me or wag his tail. But he sat there, and we were quiet together. I liked the quiet. 

He wasn't what I expected at all. He was not like the other service animals I had met. He didn't force any of that exuberance on me. He wasn't full of one sided overwhelming affection. I was relieved to be wrong.

We sat there while the pond slowly calmed down. It took longer than you would think. Even after the surface was still again, there were lights beneath. Minutes of pure darkness would go by, and then suddenly a slow pulse of deep light would bloom again.

I reached down and lifted Mitchie up to sit on the bench beside me. 

He cocked his head.

"Fresh air doing you good?" I asked. 

His tongue was hanging out again. There were still crushed leaves in his teeth and fur. He smelled like mint and dirt. He smelled nice. He was definitely not a handsome dog. But maybe Marlene was right. Maybe he was even more handsome than handsome. 

He could use a brushing, though.

I looked over at the street lamp, and I swear there was a bat, flapping like crazy. No, two bats. It looked like they were tethered to the light with elastic bands, the way they swung and dipped. They were so black, they were like shapes cut out of the light. Impossible to see clearly. I thought of Prom and Marlene. Flapping like crazy.

Then, ten feet away, with no sound at all, an owl plunged to the forest floor beside the pond and something squirmed in its claws. It was shocking how large the owl was. At first, it looked as big as me. That couldn't be right. 

It lifted off again in perfect silence, its huge wings spread wide in the dark.

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