The Sadness of Whirlwinds by Jim Peterson

Author:Jim Peterson
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781636280097
Publisher: Red Hen Press
Published: 2021-05-15T00:00:00+00:00

Charlie’s Regret

This morning I sent my Golden Retriever Charlie out for the paper. She ran out eagerly as usual, but the paper wasn’t there at the end of my walkway. Charlie turned and looked at me as if to say, “What do I do now?” Then she quickly applied her nose to the ground and started working in circles. The circles became wider. She came into view and went out of view. From time to time she stopped and looked at me, to make sure I was still waiting. I held her cookie reward in my hand. No paper, no cookie. She knew the rules. Her circles became wider, and she disappeared for minutes on end. I didn’t worry about her too much in this sleepy neighborhood. But I was getting tired of waiting on her. At last she came into view carrying a rolled up newspaper. It was covered with damp leaves, so I stepped outside the door.

“Good girl,” I said as she approached.

She handed me the paper and I gave her the cookie. She gobbled it up in seconds. I brushed the leaves off the paper and brought it into the house. I wondered if maybe it belonged to one of my neighbors. On the other hand, what had happened to my paper? This paper felt a little odd in my hand, perhaps a little thicker in the middle than the usual Tuesday paper. Then I unrolled it on my dining room table.

In the center of it, resting in the midst of the front-page story, was a big toe. Human. No animal has a toe like that. Careful not to touch it, I sat down at the table and studied the toe from every angle. The nail was closely trimmed. A man’s toe I guessed, from the size of it, neatly severed from the foot. The cut was very clean, surgical, beautifully cauterized to stop the bleeding. I looked over at Charlie. Tired from her run, she lay contentedly on the couch, but her eyes were watching me.

“Where on earth did you get this paper?” I asked.

But she didn’t move or speak. I thought she was looking at me differently, as if she might have seen something she would rather not have seen. I decided to call my friend Mack. He had been a doctor for years until he decided to be a writer who worked at home. I dialed his number.

“What!” he said.

“It’s me, Conrad,” I said.

“I know who it is, whaddya want? I’m writing.”

“Sorry,” I said, “but I need your help.”

“What kind of help?” he said.

“Charlie brought back a paper that has a big toe wrapped in it,” I said.

“What?!” he said.

“A big human toe,” I repeated.

“I’ll be right over,” he said and hung up.

He lived only a block away and was in my house within minutes. I led him into the dining room, but something had changed. The big toe was still there, but now it was lying on A2, the “Nation & World” page. Specifically, it was lying on a story titled “New Governors Face Natural Disasters.

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