Cocoa Chapter 2

A haunting revelation

Water stung Cocoa's eyes as she thrashed, coughing and choking. "Somebody help!" she yelped, her heart pounding like a drum. The doggie paddle lessons from the crow were completely forgotten. She was going to drown! Upstairs, 8-year-old Maggie Stroble heard panicked barks coming from outside. She ran to her window and saw Cocoa's little nose barely poking out of the water, her paws paddling wildly.

"Mom!!!" Maggie shouted, racing downstairs, through the den, and into the backyard. Maggie was a strong swimmer; her parents had taught her when she was very little. Without hesitating, she bravely dove into the pool, hands flat, chin tucked. In a flash, she reached Cocoa, scooping her up under her arm and swimming to the rim."

Maggie's mother Barbara came running outside shouting “What is it! What's wrong!?” and ran beside the pool to help Maggie up and out of the water. Barbara was wide-eyed seeing her daughter was unharmed and holding a tired and very wet puppy in her arms, the grease from Cocoa's dirty fur was glistening on top of the water. Too tired to let out even a faint bark, Cocoa whimpered, feeling comfort in Maggie's warm grasp. "It's ok puppy, I'm here. You're safe now." Maggie said, petting her softly. She was handed over to her mom who rushed inside calling out “John!!!”...


...It was almost a year and a half since Maggie saved Cocoa. It was dinner time. Cocoa was hungry for her beef and gravy. The fire John made kept her belly warm. She knew tonight was special. Maggie would be starting fifth grade tomorrow and John had to fly to Oregon for a work seminar. He had been preparing for it for weeks, his office full of sticky notes around his computer and papers tacked up on his cork board. His calendar was riddled with scribbles and notes. He even talked about it on their family walk after dinner.
Every night the family took the same walk around the neighborhood using the time together to chat away the anxieties of the day. Maggie told her parents how excited she was about starting school and that her best friend was in the same class as her. Barbara told John things he should remember to pack and that she knew he would do well on his presentation. John expressed to them both his love for them.


The next morning was chaotic. All were awake by 4:00 in the morning to drive John to the airport 45 minutes away for his 6 a.m. flight which would land in Oregon incidentally at 6:00 a.m. Maggie sleepily kept asking her mom on the ride back home how time could go backwards.

"Oregon is far away, in a different time zone. That's why it seems like time went backward for Dad." Barbara said, keeping her eyes on the road. She mumbled under her breath everything that needed to be done for the day…
"Maggie drop-off at 7:15, then shopping at 8:00, then early lunch with Lucy at 11...but that's late breakfast...was it lunch or brunch with Lucy?..."
Cocoa pawed the window as Barbara let it down a smidge for her to stick her wet nose into the air and let the wind toss her ears around like helicopter propellers. 'How could Maggie fall asleep when she could be doing this?' she thought.
After school drop-off and shopping, Barbara rescheduled brunch with Lucy. She was too tired after getting up so early. Cocoa hopped up in bed next to her for their late morning nap. Her ears relaxed, her whiskers twitched as she slowly fell asleep.
"Cocoa!" someone was calling from outside. Cocoa knew exactly who it was as she rolled her eyes and stomped out through the den doggie door. It was Pinky-Dink, trotting over, her nose in the air, not even trying to hide the smirk on her face.
Cocoa's eyes narrowed as the tiny, well groomed poodle approached, showing off her new expensive pink sweater. "What is it Dinky?" Cocoa barked at her.
Pinky straightened her posture, glaring at Cocoa. “You know good and well my name is PINKY-DINK!”
“Oh Dinky-Shrinky-Tinky! I know you only ever come by to bother me.” Cocoa said ready for whatever Pinky had planned.
"I'm just curious why you were gone so early today? I saw all of you pile into the car and leave." Pinky-Dink asked nosily.
"Not that it's any of your business Pinky, but we dropped John off at the airport this morning. Is that okay with you?"
"Ohhh ok, I thought they were getting rid of you because you're too fat." She chuckled.
"That's a mean thing to say!" Cocoa barked back.
"Well, you know how finicky these humans can be. One minute they love you, the next minute they send you away to the pound." Pinky-Dink was an insecure snob because she was rescued from the pound and now lived in luxury.
"My humans would never do that to me." Cocoa said. "Anyway I have to go. It's almost lunch time."
"Oh, I always forget what time it is, I don't eat lunch anymore these days, you know, to stay slim." Pinky laughed like a bully. Cocoa's belly was rounder than Pinky-Dink's but nonetheless cute. Pinky-Dink was still talking and laughing as Cocoa came back into the house, now feeling upset about her body shape. She felt low, and...sad. She thought about skipping lunch like Pinky, until she heard mom in the kitchen pouring a scoop of kibble in her bowl. She looked at her food bowl and then back at the mirror in the den. She sighed, and then walked over to her bowl.
"Good dog," Barbara said, walking past Cocoa into the kitchen to get a snack. "Snacks are the best part of the day, aren't they?" She said. Cocoa looked up at her, licking her chops. "Some people act like they are too good to eat more than once or twice a day. Like these diet books I have. That's why I threw them out. I just listen to my own body. When I'm hungry, I eat. Simple as that." She was aware Cocoa didn't understand the words she was saying. But she did. Her tail started to wag. "Pinky-Dink can starve if she wants to, but me." She finished her kibble and let out a happy "AWOOO!"
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the living room wall. Cocoa's playful spirit subdued, and she suddenly froze. A tingle of unease ran down her spine. On the wall, a shadow had appeared, long and thin, moving with a slow, deliberate sway. She turned her head towards the window behind her, but the glass was empty, reflecting only the familiar room. Her ears flattened as she cautiously backed away from the wall. The shadow grew longer, its movement more dramatic, as if something unseen was deliberately creeping closer.
Barbara, lost in the quiet rhythm of her journal, felt a subtle shift in the air. She glanced up, noticing Cocoa's unusual stillness and the low, guttural growl rumbling in her chest. A knot of worry tightened in Barbara's stomach. She put down her pen, her gaze following Cocoa's fixed stare towards the wall.
As if drawn by an invisible force, Cocoa began to inch towards the living room window, her paws moving silently on the carpet. Her heart drummed with each hesitant step. Barbara rose slowly from the couch, her own nervousness growing with every beat of Cocoa's fear.
Together, they reached the door. Barbara's hand trembled slightly as she flung it open, ready to face whatever had cast that unsettling shadow. Cocoa, a blur of brown and white, shot out ahead of her, a low growl echoing from the deepest part of her.
But the front yard was empty. The air was still.
A strange quietness hung in the air, more unsettling than any visible threat. Then, Barbara noticed it. On the sidewalk, directly in front of their home, a line. A perfect, unnerving line of small, slender twigs had been laid out with meticulous care, one after the other, stretching along the concrete. It was an arrangement that seemed deliberate, purposeful, yet utterly inexplicable.
A chill, colder than the late afternoon breeze, swept over Barbara. She had no idea who could have done this, or why. It felt like a silent message, a cryptic warning. Her instincts screamed of something unseen, something unknown, watching.
She quickly bent down, her movements jerky, and kicked the twigs into the nearby grass. Clutching Cocoa close to her side, her own tail tucked slightly between her legs, she hurried back inside, the door slamming shut behind them.
Once inside, their familiar home offered little comfort. A heavy presence in the air, like they were being watched. Barbara reached for the phone, her fingers fumbling as she dialed John's number, her voice a low, urgent whisper. Cocoa remained by the living room window, her gaze fixed on the outside, her senses on high alert. From the shadows beyond the glass, was a pair of dark eyes fixed on them, there was indeed a silent, chilling promise of something unknown.