The Art of Chasing Idols

Leah was trying to get back into artist mode, but the interruptions were impossible to ignore. The air was warm, like bouillon, and she could feel the weight of the humidity on the back of her youthful and slender neck. The paintbrush shook in her sweaty palm as she considered her options for where to introduce the chartreus paint with the canvas. The sunflowers and hydrangeas in the overgrown garden were drooping and pathetic because of the heat, but she knew she needed to finish her painting before her next art class on Monday. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she failed her freshman year introductory painting class, especially as an art major. She inhaled a calculated breath as she reluctantly plopped a dollop of color right on the corner of the canvas, next to the leaf she’d painted earlier in the day. Each stroke of color felt like a painful commitment that would never be easily undone.

            “Be quiet Ida! Stop barking!” she yelled as her Aunt Millie’s Golden Retriever let out a protective “woof.” Ida was an obedient dog, but also quite stupid, often barking at an autumn leaf falling to the ground or a far-off noise only she could hear, a mosquito perhaps. She stood by the dilapidated fence staring at the bottom sharp corner of a broken wood post frozen in focused concentration. The fence looked like it’d been kicked a few too many times by her soccer ball and only half of the aged wood was even slightly secured into the ground.

            “Aunt Millie! Ida is barking at the ground again! Can you call her inside would ya please?” Leah shouted up to a sky so blue and crisp it looked like it might shatter. The sun broke through the towering oak tree behind her, lighting up her fair-skinned forehead. She was drenched with beads of sweat all along her strawberry blonde hairline. Leah selfishly liked going over to her Aunt Millie’s Garden to find painting inspiration, but her aunt’s overly nosy nature and boisterous dog always made it hard to fully concentrate as much as she would’ve liked. Her aunt’s house was familiar and a regular pitstop during her childhood. Aunt Millie never had human children of her own, so Leah was the closest thing to a daughter she ever had, who wasn’t a dog needing to be rescued.

            “Oh, she can smell those moles in the ground, I betcha. I think it drives her mad not to be able to catch them. She’ll figure out one day that she can’t catch any and maybe actually leave whatever it is alone. Leave it Ida!” Aunt Millie suddenly appeared from around the corner to grab Ida by her overpriced shiny leather collar. She gently nudged her by the neck away from the nook of the yard she was fixated on.

            “Go get your ball!” she said as she flung a pointed finger toward the obnoxiously giant green squeaky ball that’d been left rotting in the yard in a corner all alone. It hadn’t been played with for months. Aunt Millie circled around the apple red Japanese Maple that hung over the jagged rock wall clucking questions out loud.  “How’s school going? Are you enjoying your classes alright? Who is your favorite teacher?”

            “School is fine. It’s usually fine.” She felt her skin begin to crawl with irritation. Her aunt always had too many opinions and thoughts about her life and choices. Why did she want to know so much about her life anyway? Leah’s life was nobody’s business but her own. She didn’t need her Aunt Millie’s approval anymore and certainly wasn’t looking to earn it. She wasn’t a little girl coming for a sleepover to discuss her crushes; she was a young woman now who understood the world way better than she used to.

“I’m trying to focus on my painting right now. I really could use some privacy if you don’t mind,” Leah said with a disgruntled sigh. She squinted her eyes with her face oddly close to the painting pretending to be distracted. Leah didn’t think Aunt Millie really cared about her art or school life anymore like she used to. She didn’t constantly tell her how great she was like her parents did, but would simply sigh and say, “well, that’s good.” She preferred knowing all the details of her life and how Leah was trying to be the salt and light at her school, whatever the heck that meant.

            “Sure sweetie. I’m sorry to have bothered you. I just love hearing all about how you’re being salt and light on campus and all. I’ll leave you to your brush strokes.” Aunt Millie let her hand slide gracefully over Ida’s belly. She patted her puffy caramel colored hind end three good times before heading into the house again. The screen door slapped closed causing a few small pieces of peeling paint from the surrounding molding to fall haphazardly onto the concrete path. Ida looked back and forth indecisively, unsure of who to stay with. After a few quiet moments she settled back on staring at the same shady corner by the fence letting out another unwanted but hearty “woof.”

            “Good grief Ida. What is it?? What are you looking at over there? Why are you interested in that stupid spot anyway? There is nothing there!” Leah shook her head as she changed her brush and dipped a smaller, more angular one into the fluorescent pink color on her palette. She was focusing on the Zinnia flowers in the yard as inspiration for her oil painting. The bright pink, orange, and yellow colors marbled in each of the flower heads would no doubt grab the professor’s attention for an automatic A-plus.

            Inside the house, Aunt Millie collected crusty dishes from around the kitchen and peered out the window at her niece sitting on the pine bench that her father made for her when she was a child. She saw all the recent eye rolls and heard the sighs of irritation when she would go outside to chat with Leah. Her concerned brother had asked her to prioritize their friendship, even if her strong-willed niece didn’t or wouldn’t ever want one again. Allowing Leah to paint in her backyard was an opportunity for them to rediscover the fun they used to have and for Millie to get a glimpse into the world of a college aged millennial.

            “I’m putting some water on for tea Leah. Would you like a cup?” Millie asked through the pencil thin crack in the window. Leah’s head drooped suddenly, and her eyes cut to the side.

            “No thanks Aunt Millie. Like I said about five seconds ago, I’m pretty busy out there!”

            “It was worth a try,” Millie muttered. Her rotund belly hit the side of her ‘made in the USA’ Hall teapot knocking the golden glazed lid off onto her big toe before crashing on the floor. She absorbed the pain with a private, but volcano-like growl.

            Leah faintly heard the commotion from the kitchen but was far too invested in staring at the sunshine-colored stamen she wanted to replicate than investigate further what the ruckus inside was all about. Ida had her cold damp nose deep in the clay soil below the fence, still sniffing with great intrigue. Suddenly she was frozen in her paws as a faint crunching sound rolled through the airwaves from next door. Her wilted left ear turned downward with optimism that a small animal might make a quick appearance. There was a manly hum coming from the deck of the pristine brick ranch next door, just beyond the fence. A monotone and manly growl carefully vibrated through the open holes of the wood slats. The sound was subtle and faint, like a whispered puff.

            “Hello? Is someone there?” Leah asked into nowhere. Ida dug with her paws spread out wide, frantically shoveling the dirt away in chunks. She stopped for a second to listen again, only to start clawing with purpose.

            “You’re nothing but scum I tell ya! You don’t care a lick about me anymore! If you did, you’d agree with me and you’d understand how I feel!” a raspy female voice shouted from crackling branches overhead. Ida jumped back in rhythm with the yelling, only to proceed with her determined digging. The rock filled hole she was making with each paw full of dirt was slowly creeping its way under the fence and soon she would be able to escape into the neighboring yard.

            Leah’s eyes widened as her paintbrush drooped in slow motion. She suddenly didn’t feel the weight of the paintbrush in her hand as the tip of her brush teased her lap, leaving a perfect circle of green paint on her thigh as she listened for more accusations to fly. Uncomfortable, Leah shifted her weight forward. Her toes gripped tightly to the base of her stool as she pulled herself up to catch a glimpse of who might be venturing by. Floating on the top of the fence was what looked like a flying baseball cap. A Boston Red Sox hat moved past with a hum following, only to disappear into the neighboring evergreen bushes that lined the other side of the fence.

The house next door was the most decorated bungalow on the block. It had a carefully stained wraparound porch that was covered in potted plants, Impatiens mostly, strategically placed all along the border. Pea-sized decorative lights hung in well-spaced rows from the shiplap ceiling, dripping down the stained deck railing. The front door was painted a burnt orange and always wore a fresh wreath of seasonal flowers that got changed out every week. In all the years of visiting her aunt, Leah never saw or heard from the people who lived there, but she always noticed the manicured lawn and perfectly matching accessories. The house always reminded her of a wooden dollhouse that never got played with, beautiful and unused. At Christmas time they had a gorgeous light display, the envy of the whole neighborhood, but nobody ever seemed to see who was putting them up. The one thing people did know was that a couple lived there, but no one saw them long enough to make friends. Hearing the voices from the backyard was literally the first sign of any life to ever come from the house while she was there.

She sat back for a moment to reconsider that cup of tea only to hear the neighbor’s back door abruptly shut with a slam. Ida backed herself away from the coveted corner and scurried inside, oddly alarmed by the noise. Leah was captivated by the neurotic dog and confused by her sudden exit from her prized section of the yard. With a shrug and a shift of mental gears she took a step back pressing herself into the sharp bark of a nearby Oak tree to view her painting from a further distance. She tilted her head to see it from another angle, liking what she’d done so far. She wondered if she should take a photo and put it on Instagram to share with her friends like she usually did. Like most college students, Leah used social media as her lifeline to the world. She shared about every part of her day, no matter how miniscule. It would be nice to get some public likes and feedback about her work in progress before she turned her work in for her ornery professor to grade. No doubt her teacher’s lack of zeal would influence his old timey analysis of her masterpiece. She hastily snapped a quick picture when the light was just right.

The moment of peaceful analysis and introspection was interrupted by yet another outburst from the unraveling neighbors next door, only this time it was a hefty male voice that bellowed from beyond the decomposing fence.

“You asked me what I thought, and I told ya! Just because I don’t agree with you doesn’t mean I don’t still love you! Sheesh. D’you hear me woman? Do you really think after all these years and three kids I’m suddenly going to stop caring about you?”

Leah’s parents argued, but never outside of the walls of her upper middle-class home. She wasn’t used to all the public yelling and disagreeing. Truthfully, her decisions had been the reason for most of the recent yelling and disgruntlement at her own house.  Her face tightened amidst the chaos as her paint covered thumb clicked the magical post button on Instagram so all her followers could see her latest work. She slipped her phone into her back jeans pocket. She heard crunching leaves from next door again and made a beeline to get inside, scooping up her painting as she quickly tiptoed away from her spot by the fence. She didn’t need to hear any more banter or dysfunctional shenanigans.

The back door slammed behind her abruptly, unnerving Aunt Millie.

“Oh dear. I wasn’t expecting you to come inside. Do you want some tea after all then?” she said with unbridled enthusiasm. The front of her ruffled apron was covered in flour with splashes of powdery white along with two delicate handprints on her generous bottom. Leah chuckled to herself as she took a seat, pulling her phone out to quickly check on her latest post. It’d only been up for a few seconds, but those likes usually came in fast when she posted something especially good. Nothing. Disappointment came into view along with Ida as she flew from around the corner, crashing into Leah’s clean-shaven legs.

“Easy girl, geez. Why is she so excitable today?” Leah asked as Ida’s pom-pom tail hit the table so hard it rocked it sideways, sending her phone crashing to the tile floor.

“Ida! Come on now, stop that. You’re causing trouble again. Git on outta here. We love ya, but you’re too much sometimes,” Millie said with a swipe of her hand at Ida’s peppercorn colored snout. She picked up yet another forgotten squeaky ball from under the cabinet, gave it a good squeeze and threw it down the hallway. Ida’s nails sliced at the floor as she finally scurried toward the obnoxious bounce.

“I swear, one these days she’s gonna really break something! Is there any way you could like, I dunno, control her?” Leah frantically reached for her phone on the cold floor, eager to see if it was smashed or cracked. She was relieved to see it was still in one piece but saddened once again to see no new likes on her post as she quickly gave Instagram another glance. The window unit in the kitchen suddenly started up with a severe rattle and slam. Millie gave it a quick thump with her fist to make it stop buzzing.

“Sorry about her antics, dear. She gets so excited when you’re here. I guess she knows you are a dog person and acts accordingly.” Her hands shook slightly as she carried the heirloom teapot and cups to set them on the table.

“It’s okay. I mean, I really do appreciate you letting me come paint here every week. I know it’s a lot to ask for me to come around all the time. I’m sure you have lots of other ways you could spend your Thursdays,” Leah said as she blew on the rim of the full teacup Millie put in front of her.  

“I enjoy seeing what you’re creating while you’re here. Sometimes my life feels a little empty now and having you here again so often gives me purpose.”

“I’m curious though, what’s up with those weird neighbors you’ve got next door? I heard all kinds of shouting from over there just now. There was some creepy guy who walked by around the back of the fence then went right back inside where all the shouting was coming from. They sound super strange if you ask me.” She rubbed her thumb across the face of her phone while giving it a sideways glance. The temptation to check it again was burning through her torso to the tips of her fingers.

“Those two neighbors are certainly quite a pair from the little I’ve heard about them. Nobody around here seems to know all that much about them, but their house is the best looking one on the block, so in a lot of ways we all appreciate them for making our neighborhood look better. I’ve seen an older man taking the trash down a time or two; he’s a real unkempt fella. I think he’s married to the lady who lives there, but that’s just my guess.”

“So, you’ve heard yelling from over there before?  His wife or whoever was reaming him out pretty good this afternoon. Something about not understanding her and that he was useless or something like that. I can’t imagine anybody talking to me that way,” Leah said. She took a nibble of the shortbread cookie her aunt had slid across the table on a cloth napkin while she’d been talking. One thing her aunt didn’t care about was crumbs on the floor because Ida was a reliable vacuum and was known to clean up any stray flyaway food with accuracy.

“Yah, I’ve heard some stout rumbles at times from over there. I never know how much to press in, given I don’t speak to them face to face and such. Heck, I’ve never even suitably met them! I assume what they want most is their privacy, but I do wonder if they need some pursuing.” Millie lifted her sock and Croc covered foot ensemble onto the chair next to Leah.

Leah gripped her phone like a sword, finally giving into the temptation to look at the post about the painting again. There were only two likes and one comment from a name she didn’t recognize. She felt needles prickle along her neck up to her ears with warm embarrassment as she read the comment, “Meh. That painting isn’t anything to make a fuss over. Amma right?”  Leah heard her heartbeat thumping aggressively in her ears at the sight of the critique. She ran her oil painted fingernails through the top of her hair, pressing them into her scalp. She let some straggling pieces of hair fall around her cheeks to camouflage the horror she felt coursing through her soul. There was a thickness in her throat that she couldn’t choke down. The saliva was balling up around her voice box and she was beginning to feel queasy.

“I suppose we all prefer a little extra privacy sometimes. Seems everybody knows everything about everything these days. Are you feeling okay sugar? You look a bit pale.” Millie reached across the table to pat Leah’s knee. There was a smudge of red paint still wet in the middle of her smock.  Millie wiped at it with a napkin that she moistened with her spit. Leah flipped her phone over and slammed it down with an unenthusiastic thud forcing both teacups to hop up in unison.

“Sure. I’m fine. Nothing to worry about,” she answered. She felt her pulse quickening at the public inquiry and wanted to grab her keys to flee the scene before Millie asked her anything else. Why does she always care so much about what’s going on with people anyway? She needs to mind her own business.

A faint holler came through the kitchen window, echoing from next door. There was a stir at the neighbor’s house again. Millie hurriedly jumped up to close the window before they got too worked up or any name-calling got out of hand. She peered out of her house with concentration, watching for any movement along the other side of the fence again.

“All that fighting makes you wonder what happens on the inside of that house over there, don’t it? I mean, how they can speak to each other that way… so loudly and publicly is just terrible, and not to mention embarrassing! I can’t even hear what they say half the time, but I can tell by the tone it ain’t all kindness and love. It’s no wonder they haven’t met anyone else in the neighbor—” Millie’s eyes suddenly floated back to Leah, who sat stiff and bolt upright. “Are you sure you’re okay my dear? You look awfully red…or white…or maybe a little of both.”

“Um, I’m fine. Yeah. I guess the paint fumes finally got to me,” she said. Her hands were shaky as she brushed some thin hairs away from her eyes, looking down at the back of her evil phone, the former friend that was now betraying her.

Suddenly, there was an apocalyptic bang that shook the ground and rattled all the plates in Aunt Millie’s antique mahogany china cabinet. Millie and Leah locked eyes in suspicion, both instinctively knowing it was the feisty neighbors only a few fence posts away. Another loud thump followed as they sprung from their chairs to peer through window of the side door.

“I think someone is throwing things from upstairs!” Leah whispered.

“With all this racket I don’t suppose we need to whisper. What in the Sam hill are they doing? Is that what I think it is?” Millie covered her ears in anticipation of the thud that would soon follow as a woman with a crown of frizzy red hair chucked what looked like a stack of silver rimmed dishes out of the top floor window, likely from the attic. The plates crashed onto the ground, causing a high-pitched smash to echo all through the walls of her house. Pillows, clothes, lamps, and blankets soared to the ground in an angry rhythm. Millie opened the door and stepped outside with Leah tiptoeing behind her to see the familiar shadow gliding along the fence.  The top of a grey-haired head floated oddly by again, but this time at a hurried and frantic pace.

“Help! Good Lord, Eileen you’ve lost your mind! Help me! Stop, please! I can’t take your crap Eileen! I gotta get outta of here or you’re gonna throw me out the window. She’s finally lost her mind everybody. There’s no hiding our disfunction any longer. Come on everyone, take a good hard look at what I’m living with,” a raspy and deep voice yelled up to the top of his house.

“OH yeah? You wish I was the crazy one Darryl. You march around here like you own the place without an ounce of kindness for anybody. How am I supposed to get anything done around here with you constantly complaining about all the things wrong with this world? If you want to leave, go right on ahead. I’ve got nothing to lose expect a hundred and ninety pounds of annoying,” Eileen flung her head out the window to scream at her disgruntled housemate.

“I guess we finally know their names now. I better get the scoop into our neighborhood newsletter,” Millie whispered as her lips curled into a smile.

“It only took how many years of them living here?” Leah replied, covering her mouth to stifle a giggle.

“You think you’re so clever, huh? Throwing all our things out the window in some ridiculous kind of protest. What are you even protesting? Our life together? Your decision to marry me? For heaven’s sake, for what? This is what thirty-five years of marriage looks like babe. It’s messy and sometimes unpleasant, but this is what you signed up for. Did you really think I was going to feed your ego all the time and always tell you what you want to hear? I hate to tell you this, but it’s okay for me to disagree with you. It doesn’t mean I don’t love you,” Darryl crunched on leaves as he took methodical steps back over to where she hung out the window like a wild Rapunzel.

“You don’t understand me anymore. I feel like you care more about what the world thinks about you than what I think about you. Does my opinion even matter to you anymore? I raised your kids and now my mind doesn’t even matter to you? You care more about what those stupid people on the Twitter think than what I think these days,” she cried from her tower.

“Of course, I care about what you think! You’re my best girl. I know I can package things a little insensitively at times, and likely spend too much time debating with people I don’t know, but I can be more thoughtful. Can we try again and maybe stop throwing our entire life out the window?” He walked up the steps of their deck to get as close as he could to her from the ground. He looked like he was negotiating with a criminal as he held both arms up in surrender.

“Why does everything have to be so difficult?” she wiped her blotchy face with a sapphire-colored silk scarf then threw it down. It floated like a soaring parachute to the ground.  

“We have each other and that’s what matters Sugar Bear,” he replied as he picked it up, running it through his worn fingers. It made a clicking sound as it snagged on his rough cuticles and cracked fingertips.

“You haven’t called me Sugar Bear in years,” she said with a sniff.

“Can I come back inside now? I think we need to clean up the messes we’ve both made and maybe have a romantic dinner too.” Darryl wiped the dirt from his shoes on the now ironic welcome mat as he slowly and carefully opened the door to go inside. Eileen responded with an abrupt slam of the attic window, sending a puff of dust into the air.  

“Well, I’ll be. Who would’ve thought they had all that going on over there? It’s remarkable really.” Millie’s arms crossed, and she shook her head as they headed back inside to finish their tea.

“It’s so strange that you’ve never heard much from them and then suddenly they explode like that and not once, but twice in an hour.” Leah sat back in her chair with a thud, placing her hand back onto her phone as a small reconnection.

“We’re all a little bit messy, I guess. Now, let me see this painting you’ve been working on all day today. I’d love to see what my garden has inspired.” Leah’s painting had been propped up under the table since she’d come inside, but Millie couldn’t get a good look at it.

“No, it’s not that good. I don’t think I’ll turn this one in. I mean, I’ve got a little more time before it’s due and I really should work on it some more before I go showing it to people.”

“Oh, come on. It’s just me. I’m not gonna go yelling out the window like silly old Eileen and advertising my feelings to everybody. I’m clueless about art and will be impressed with whatever it is. Plus, it’s from my garden, so it has to be beautiful!” Millie sat with her hands propped under her chin, gazing at Leah with wide eyes. The sun was moving down slowly and there was an orange glow dancing through the window onto Leah’s face. Her hand was locked firmly on her phone as the memory of the critical comment from her post came roaring into her mind again.

“What’s holding you back from taking the plunge and giving me a peek? I promise, I’ll love it no matter what,” Millie said as she lightly put her hand on top of Leah’s.

Ida suddenly propelled herself into the kitchen at top speed, sliding with charismatic force underneath the table, slamming Leah’s picture to the floor face down with a thud.

“Because it’s terrible and I don’t want to show anyone else, alright? I don’t need your approval or anyone else’s for that matter. Can’t you just leave me alone about it?” Leah crisscrossed her arms with a harumph and sat back hard in her chair almost has hard as Ida had careened into the table.

“Well alright then,” Millie grabbed Ida’s collar, pulling her face over so she could kiss her snout, despite her naughty behavior. She knew teenagers had outbursts, but this seemed a little exaggerated considering her art was something she usually took great pride in. Why create art if you’re going to yell at anyone who asks to see it? She massaged Ida’s muzzle tenderly across the bottom of her velvet chin only to discover something foreign and wet hanging from her mouth. She felt the leathery skin around the sides of her mouth searching for whatever she was chewing so enthusiastically.

“My goodness, there’s somethin’ in her mouth. I can’t get it out. She won’t give it to me. Ida, lemme have it. It feels like paper, but I can’t tell. Shoot, she doesn’t usually chew things that aren’t hers.” Ida’s eyes rocked back and forth between her two humans as Millie’s hand attempted to open her tightly clamped jaw. She was frozen in a pretend rigor mortis.

Leah couldn’t be bothered to figure out what was in the silly dog’s mouth. She was far too distracted picking up her painting from the filthy floor and inspecting it. There was no doubt pieces of stringy dog hair and dirt stuck to the tacky parts of the painting, serving to make it even more hideous.  Maybe the trashy look was what she should be going for.

“I guess I’ll have to let all that paper pass through naturally because she’s got the jaws of life on whatever it is. Go on girl, git,” Millie said with a wave of her arm in the air before she continued. “Now I didn’t mean to make you get all self-conscious or anything. I figured you liked to get feedback and compliments given how active you are on the social media.”

“How do you know what I’m doing on the social media? I didn’t think you were into that kind of thing,” Leah said with a stifled chuckle.

“Oh yes, I’m very interested in the Instagram especially, thank you very much. The Facebook has too much political and opinionated drama going on there. I thought you’d be okay letting me see some of your art considering how much of your life you publicly share with all these people you’ve never even met before. At least you know my intentions, but if you don’t want me to see it, I understand. Putting ourselves out into the world is never an easy thing to do.”

“People don’t call it The Instagram Aunt Millie.” Leah felt her chest opening and the air easing in and out of her lungs smoothly for the first time since she’d come inside for tea. Her thumb secured her art safely under the table again. There was a sudden unspoken understanding between she and her aunt; an internal safe space that was pleasantly reserved for two people in opposite seasons of life. They both spent too much time swimming in the imaginary opinions of others while the rest of the world spun without noticing. The urgency of the day faded for a moment as they became united in the shared struggle. Leah didn’t understand why her irritation was melting away. She considered her rejuvenated trust as she took in a final deep breath before revealing her masterpiece.

“Do you smell that?” Millie asked as if reading Leah’s mind.

“It almost smells like someone is grilling…drywall.” Leah stood to glance out the window and fell forward onto the counter, knocking a stack of cereal bowls clambering into the sink.

“The…the…their...house...fire!!!!” she screamed.

“What? Fire? Where?” Millie jumped up from her seat flinging Ida to the side as the dog swallowed the rest of whatever was in her mouth.

“Oh my God! Call 911!” Millie screamed as she watched the next-door neighbor’s house become consumed by smoke. The black cloud swarmed around the base of the house, taking over the wraparound porch one crazy molecule at a time. The heat started to press itself forcefully through the side door of Millie’s house blasting both women in the face as they scrambled around each other like two chickens who believed the sky is falling. They were once again in emotional unison.

“Hello! Hello 911! We’ve got an emergency…er, I mean I fire…yes, I guess that’s an emergency…yes a fire emergency at 420 Foxwood Lane, wait, I mean the house next door that is on fire, but please come fast!” Millie hung up and slammed the phone down into the sink.

“Aunt Millie! You’re supposed to stay on the line until they get here!” Ida was jumping on Leah with excitement as they hurried in circles around the room. Ida bounced on her hind legs like a circus dog in response to all the commotion.

“We need to go over there and see if we can help! What if one of them is still inside?”

“You don’t think one of them…” Leah grabbed ahold of Millie’s sleeve as she started her to open the door to the outside. The sound of approaching sirens cut through the chaotic background noise already.

“One of them…who? Ida stop jumping!” Millie whipped her head back and forth looking for Ida who had once again made an escape to another room.

“Do you think one of them…” she started again.

“Spit it out dear. IDA!” Milled called angrily.

“AUNT MILLIE! LISTEN TO ME!” Leah grabbed her aunt by the elbows and shook her to attention. “Do you think one of them started the fire…ya know… on purpose?”

“Good God…you don’t think they would do that, do you? I can’t imagine one of them could…or would…oh my…” She spun around as the sound of hissing sirens erupted down the street making their way to the house being eaten by flames. Firemen jumped out of the truck as fast as they do in the movies.

The sound of cracking wood whistled through the door as it careened with a finishing thud on their perfectly manicured lawn. The women watched in awe at the destruction going on right in front of them, both wondering what had gone wrong.

“We better go through the front yard. It’s way too dangerous to go this way with all that debris falling. We’ll get crushed for sure,” Leah yelled.

Millie grabbed Leah firmly by the hand, yanking her through the living room. She stopped suddenly as she noticed her most cherished brown leather Bible from her childhood torn apart on the floor in shreds of holy slobber. Ida was laying proudly amid the chewed-up pages with a look of delight on her ink covered face. Her snout and jaw were no longer creamy colored but were covered with a foamy ring laced with leather.

“Ida!” Milled yelled in frustration, but her feet kept moving in silent obedience to her original reason for coming through the room.

“When this is all over, you’re going to be in big trouble missy!” Leah chastised as she pushed her aunt through the freshly shredded pages onto the front porch where smoke was beginning to take over. Ida continued with her obsessive chewing of the Old Testament, oblivious to any crime she’d committed.

When they got outside, they saw three firemen starting to hold steady control of a gigantic hose that was spewing high powered water on the house. Suddenly, two muscular and sweaty firemen rushed in and then quickly came out of the house lugging a stretcher that held the once shouting neighbor as she gasped for air. Poor Darryl followed behind at a quick clip, carrying the scarf from the earlier argument in his hands.

“Don’t let her forget her scarf before you go!” he shouted at their backs.

“Please! Don’t let her forget her favorite scarf! She needs it!” The paramedics had arrived and were surrounding her as they strapped an oxygen mask on her soot covered mouth.

“Sir, you need to back away. We are going to load her into the ambulance now and you can meet us at the hospital with the scarf. Please, step back and give them room to check her out,” one fireman said. He gently placed his sausage shaped fingers on Darryl’s shoulders and gave a light push.

“But…but…she’ll need this. I know she’ll want it,” he stammered.

“Sir, like I said, they are loading her into the ambulance now and you need to relax so you can safely drive to the hospital,” the fireman repeated.

Millie and Leah looked on with grim expressions and furrowed brows, arms linked together as they stood on the lawn watching in awe as the house crumbled to the ground in flames and flood.

“I can’t believe they aren’t letting him at least ride in the ambulance with her. It seems quite cruel to make him drive himself with as upset as he is. Do you think we should offer to take him?” Leah asked sheepishly.

“Oh honey, I don’t know. I can’t seem to process what I’m even seeing right now. Their perfect house is literally falling apart around them. All their hard work to keep an immaculate house and groomed yard —just like that, it’s gone.”

“DON’T FORGET HER SCARF! PLEASE! IS ANYONE LISTENING? HER SCARF!” Darryl yelled at the back of the ambulance as they closed the doors and revved the engine in protest of his screams. The driver clicked the vehicle into drive and started to roll away from the house slowly, then with more speed. Darryl began to take steps closer to them as he yelled, then began to run as the ambulance began to make an exit. He was jogging and hollering after them, frantic and with waving arms. The scarf floated back and forth above his head as he motioned for them to stop so he could give his nagging wife her precious scarf.

There was a booming thud from behind and both women turned in unison to see Ida fly at top speed through the front door that had been left slightly ajar. In her mouth was the corner of the controversial painting that had been plaguing Leah all afternoon. A quarter-sized triangle of the mangled canvas was lodged in her mouth at the perfect angle such that she could run and still hold onto it without hitting it with her paws. It stayed erect in her mouth and didn’t move, despite all her panting as she chased after Darryl.

“Look! She’s eating my painting!” Leah screamed in horror as she watched her cherished work of art go galloping down the street in the slobbery mouth of the animal that had been pestering her all day. She took off in a sprint after the dog, arm flailing similarly to Darryl’s. She couldn’t keep up with Ida any more than Darryl could keep up with the ambulance, but she pursued her nemesis nonetheless at her own personal top speed. Her hair blew in chaotic strands behind her as her arms flew up and back over her head. Ida’s golden fur looked like feathers as she raced after Darryl, who had already well given up on running after his wife.

Millie watched her niece trip on a rock and recover with a gasp after her beloved companion but didn’t feel compelled to join in the shenanigans. Darryl finally ceased moving forward, slowed to a walk and then stopped altogether to sit on the curb, clutching the forgotten scarf to his chest as he sucked in as much air as he could. Millie noticed he was much younger than he had sounded or even how he’d looked through the slats in her fence. He had dark rings under his eyes and crow’s feet nestled around them. There was a weariness in the way he hunched his shoulders and rested his chin on his fist. A few houses down his dysfunctional haven crackled and smoldered. The firemen had put out some of the fire as charcoal smoke continued to fill the sky. Darryl gave a sigh as he peered back at the ashes of his possessions.

Leah had to start running in circles as Ida changed up her original plan of following Darryl and began zig zagging around the nearby yards. Darryl looked up in confusion as he heard Leah yelling and noticed Millie as she gazed from afar. She gave a queen like wave to her niece as she blew past.

“YOU STUPID DOG! GIVE ME MY PAINTING!” Leah huffed out as she stopped to catch her breath hunched over her feet. Ida looked like she was just getting started and wasn’t nearly as winded after her performance. They locked eyes in their respite, so Leah attempted to swipe what was hers from the locked jaws of the scoundrel. No sooner had she flinched toward Ida, but Ida was gone again in a flash down the road, almost skipping away from the disgruntled young girl.

“Come back here!!!!!! Ida!!!!! Why am I chasing you like this?” Leah bellowed down the road at the disobedient animal.

Millie walked over to where Darryl sat hunched over on the concrete. She stood next to him for a few still moments before taking in a deep breath to prepare herself to say something, anything to the disheartened character sitting dejected on the side of the road.

“She needs that scarf. I know she needs more than I can ever give her. Sometimes I wonder what I’m doing wrong and come up with nothing. How am I supposed to find what she’s looking for so I can just give it to her?” he mumbled to the ground.

Ida came racing toward them at top speed followed once again by the frantic teenager, flailing, and shouting like a pubescent horror movie star. She was drenched in sweat and her phone was held out in front of her taking video of the event in progress, no doubt for social media again.

Millie laughed quietly to herself as she took in her unique surroundings. “Isn’t it funny?” she said. “What we chase is often entirely different from what’s chasing us.”

Darryl smiled and nodded as he tossed the scarf into the middle of the road.