The sound of toenails clicking against wooden floors was a welcome distraction. She looked down to find Silas next to her, which reminded her of the thing she’d been promising herself she’d do with Tonio all day. She glanced at the clock-it was nine, so he’d still be awake.
The kids were expected to be in bed by ten, and after 9:00 p.m. was quiet reading time.
Soleil tugged gently on the dog’s collar.
“Lie down,” she commanded, and Silas did as she asked.
She stood. “Stay.” The dog’s muscles twitched, wanting to follow her. “No,” she said. “Stay.”
As she turned and left the room, he stayed still. His mournful gaze said he didn’t like the situation, but he wasn’t going to disobey.
She closed the door to the study-the coziest, most comforting room in the house-and went off in search of Tonio. She found him in the kitchen, getting himself a glass of water.
“Hey,” she said, “I need to show you something in my office.”
He took a long drink, put the glass down, then followed her out of the kitchen. When they reached the closed study door, he hesitated.
“What’s in there?” he said.
It was time to work on his fear of dogs.
“My dog, Silas, is in there lying down. I’m going to go inside and hold on tight to his collar. I want you to come in and get used to being near him.”
But Tonio was already shaking his head and backing away. “No way. I’m outta here.”
She placed a hand on his arm. “Tonio. I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do, okay? Do you believe me about that?”
He looked at her warily, his huge brown eyes half concealed by overgrown bangs that gave him a bit of a sheepdog look himself.
“An important thing to understand about dogs is that they can be trained to behave well. Silas is very well trained. As long as I’ve had him, he’s never disobeyed me. If I tell him to stay, he’ll stay. He won’t come near you unless I allow him to.”
He looked away and shrugged, trying hard to show that he didn’t give a damn about her dog’s obedience training.
“Were you hurt by a dog?” she asked.
His eyes flashed fear as he looked at her then looked away again. “Yeah,” he half choked out.
“Will you tell me what happened?”
Silence.
She sighed. “You don’t have to, but it might help.”
More silence. But Soleil could be patient. Finally, standing her ground with the awkward silence paid off.
“I was little,” he started, trying to appear cooler than he actually was. “Maybe four years old, and my family’s dog attacked me one day when I got too near his food bowl while he was eating.”
She let her hand slide down his arm to his hand, which she held tight, hoping he’d feel safe to keep talking.
“That must have been terrifying,” she said when he went silent.
“I don’t remember that much about it anymore. I remember it hurt a lot, and the dog’s mouth…it looked so much scarier with blood on its muzzle. White fur, all stained with blood.”
She could see from this distance in his gaze that he’d gone there mentally.
“How did you get away from the dog?”
“My mom found us and pulled him off me.”
“Is that how you got the scar on your neck?”
He nodded. “I almost died from the attack.”
Soleil frowned, unable to produce any adequate words.
“So now you see why I’m not going anywhere near that dog.”
“I understand how terrified you are of dogs, and you have good reason to be.”
He smirked, waiting for her
“It must be scary going through everyday life, when there are so many dogs around.”
“Yeah, sometimes.”
“When you applied to come here for the internship, did you see the part in the brochure about my dog?”
Tonio shrugged. “Yeah, but I figured…I don’t know. I thought you’d keep him away from me.”
“Maybe some part of you knew you needed to get used to having a dog around.”
“Nuh-uh.”
“An important part of this farm is Silas. He helps keep things running properly-and he’s very unhappy when he doesn’t have his job to do.”
Tonio looked doubtful at this bit of information.
“It’s true. And I want you to do me a favor.”
“What?”
“I was a social worker before I started running this farm, and I’ve worked a few times with kids who’ve suffered from fear of dogs.”
“Yeah, so?”
“I want you to trust me that I know how to help you be comfortable around dogs again.”
“I don’t want to be comfortable around dogs. It ain’t like I’m getting me a pet pit bull or anything.”
“No, but you do want to complete your internship, right?”
“The week’s almost over, and I don’t really care.”
That, Soleil knew, was an outright lie. Judging by his application essay and his strong sense of right and wrong, Tonio was a community activist in the making. He’d be a great advocate for Urban Garden.
“Then why are you here?”
He shrugged again. “I thought it would be fun, but it’s kind of lame.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Fair enough, but as long as you’re here, I’d like to help you get more comfortable around dogs.”
He started shaking his head, but she said, “Do you trust me?”
“Sort of, I guess.”
“I want you to spend five minutes with me in this room.” She placed her hand on the closed door of the study.
“Why?”
“Because Silas is in there, and he’s lying down, and he won’t get up or even come near you unless I allow him to, and I won’t, okay?”
“No way.”
“Just five minutes, okay? I want to show you a few things about dogs that will help you in the future.”
He sighed. “You promise he’ll stay away from me?”
“Promise.”
He stood there, resigned, waiting for her to open the door, so she did. Inside the room, Silas lay just where she’d left him, his tail wagging deliriously to see her again.
“Stay,” she said again, and his tail slowed to a stop.
She went in ahead of Tonio and kept her body between him and the dog’s. She crossed the room, sat next to Silas and took hold of his collar.
“Have a seat there on the sofa,” she said to Tonio.
Nervously, he edged into the room, his gaze never leaving the dog’s.
“While I’m holding on to Silas, I want you to come closer when you feel comfortable.”
Tonio looked from her to the dog and back again. “If the dog’s so obedient, why do you have to hold on to him?”
“I don’t. He’ll stay where he is until I tell him he can move, but I thought you might be more comfortable with me here holding him.”
“This is stupid,” he said. “Sitting here with a dog isn’t going to make me like dogs again.”
“I don’t expect it to.”
