The Big Chihuahua Page 3

  “I am trying to tell you, Geri. Somebody is on the front porch,” Pepe said.

  Chapter 5

  He was right. When I opened the door, there was a man on my front porch, holding a six-pack of beer. I recognized him instantly as Felix’s brother—they have the same wide grin. He was dressed in worn jeans and a T-shirt but seemed fine despite the misty rain. But his female companion wasn’t prepared for the Seattle weather. She wore a flimsy dress and was shivering, her arms wrapped around her body.

  “Whoa! You startled me!” said the man. “I haven’t even rung the doorbell yet. You must have ESP.”

  “No,” I said. “I have a dog.”

  “Geri, this is my brother, Tavo,” said Felix, clapping him on the back.

  “Short for Gustavo,” said Tavo. “I was named after our grandfather. But please never call me that.” He smiled and offered me his hand. “It’s good to meet you, Geri.”

  “And this is Chloe,” said Felix. She had long blond hair, big brown eyes, a pretty upturned nose, and a pretty downturned mouth.

  “Chloe’s the star of the film we’re working on,” said Tavo. “You might recognize her. She was the star of Zombies Gone Wild.”

  Not very likely. I do like horror movies, but I hadn’t seen one since my divorce. Too scary to watch alone. And Pepe refuses to watch them. He prefers telenovellas and reality TV shows.

  “Glad to meet you,” I said.

  “Tavo!” said Felix. “I thought I was supposed to pick you up.” He checked his watch. “Did I get the time wrong?”

  “No, I managed to get a seat on an earlier flight. Chloe was on the same plane and so I invited her along,” Tavo said. “Since I knew you weren’t expecting me so early, I decided to rent a car. Thought I’d save you the trip to the airport.”

  “I don’t see how you can stand to live in a climate like this,” Chloe said to me, still shivering. I pulled a towel out of the linen closet and directed her toward the bathroom where she could dry herself off. I also offered her one of my favorite cardigans, which I thought was very nice of me, as it was one of my favorites: a shell-pink number with silver flowers embroidered up and down the placket.

  “Is this OK, Geri?” Felix asked, coming into the kitchen, putting his arms around me and whispering in my ear. Tavo was in the dining room opening the beer. I could hear the pop and fizz of the cans as the pressure was released. “Tavo felt sorry for Chloe since she didn’t know anyone in Seattle and invited her along.”

  “Yeah, sure,” I said. “Why don’t you go keep them busy while I finish up the dinner preparations? We should be ready to eat in about fifteen minutes.”

  Felix gave me a kiss on the cheek, then went out into the dining room. I set the water on to boil for the pasta. Normally I might have felt rushed, but since I had everything prepped, dinner would be a snap.

  I was just setting another place at the table for Chloe when she came back from the bathroom, still wearing my sweater, I noted. I offered her a glass of wine, but she said she preferred water.

  Once the pasta was done, I whipped up some of my homemade dressing: a raspberry vinaigrette. We all gathered at the table, and Tavo and Felix made appreciative noises as they sat down to eat, but Chloe pouted. It turned out she was vegan, so she couldn’t eat the pasta because of the cheese, not to mention the ham. I offered to share the small meatless portion I had set aside for myself, but she declined my offer.

  “Is that your dog?” she asked. Pepe was circling her ankles as if he thought they might be good to eat.

  “Yes, that is Pepe,” I said, thinking she would reach down and pet him, which is what most people do when they see Pepe.

  Instead she shuddered. “Please get him away from me. I don’t like dogs. I got bit once when I was a kid.”

  “Go watch TV,” I told Pepe.

  “Your dog watches TV?” Tavo asked as I sat down at the table.

  “He loves telenovellas,” I said, pouring my homemade dressing over my salad. “Of all the Spanish soap operas, Paraiso Perdido is his favorite.”

  “Can you believe what Ramon did last week?” Tavo asked.

  “What did he do?” I asked.

  “He turned his own brother over to the federales,” Tavo said, twirling some of the pasta noodles around his fork.

  “Sí, his brother is a big drug lord, and he will have his men after Ramon now for sure,” said Pepe. He was licking his lips, no doubt waiting for some ham to come his way.

  “Pepe, go watch the next episode,” I said. “And you can tell us what happens.”

  “I can tell you right now what will happen,” said Pepe. “Ramon better go into hiding. Preferably at the home of Conchita.” But he went trotting off into the living room.

  “He obeys you now,” said Felix.

  “Yes,” I said with a sigh. “He’s very good at doing what he wants.”

  “He can turn on the TV?” Tavo asked.

  “He can operate the remote,” I said. “He’s highly motivated when it comes to entertainment.” I heard the click of the TV coming on in the living room.

  “Amazing!” Tavo said. “Does my brother get any credit?”

  “No,” said Felix, helping himself to another serving of the pasta. “Geri is the only one who can train this Chihuahua. I’ll have to settle for working with bigger dogs.”

  Unfortunately, I had also dressed the salad with crumbled feta, along with roasted walnuts and chopped fennel root. Chloe was picking her way through the salad, removing the crumbly white chunks of feta and making a little mountain of them on her plate.

  “So tell me about your movie,” I said.

  “It’s an independent project. Low-budget horror,” Tavo said. “I’ve worked with the director before. He’s pretty easygoing. Should be fun. Plus I knew I could spend some time with Felix since we’re filming up here in Seattle. Then it turned out they needed a trainer for the wolves.”

  I guess I looked puzzled.

  “It’s a werewolf movie,” Tavo said.

  “Werewolves are the new vampires,” said Chloe.

  “So you’ll be working with real wolves?” I turned to Felix. This was the first time he had worked with wild animals since I had known him.

  Felix shrugged. “Not wolves, wolf-hybrids. But some are probably seventy-five percent wolf. Which means they’re almost as unpredictable as real wolves.”

  “Isn’t that dangerous?”

  “Not if I can help it,” he said. “It’s my job to make sure they look menacing but behave like pussycats.”

  “You wouldn’t say that,” I said, “if you knew my cat, Albert.”

  “Felix is good,” Tavo said. “Did you know he worked with the wolves in the True Blood series?”

  Felix shook his head, his eyes warning his brother not to pursue that line of thought. It gave me the impression that it hadn’t been a good experience for him.

  “No, I didn’t,” I said. I threw Felix a look that meant Why have you never told me about this?

  “Just as long as you keep them away from me,” said Chloe. She set down her fork. Her plate was empty except for the little mound of discarded cheese bits. “Can we go, Tavo? I’m really tired.”

  “I want to hang out with my little bro,” Tavo said. “Why don’t you take the car to the hotel? Felix can give me a ride later.”

  Chloe didn’t like that idea, it was obvious, but she was finally persuaded and left, in my favorite sweater, without even saying good-bye or thank you. I guess stars can be pretty self-centered, especially when they are beautiful. Of course, I didn’t really like the idea either. I was hoping for some one-on-one time with Felix.

  We adjourned to the living room, the men with the last two beers and me with another glass of wine. Pepe was curled up on a pillow on the sofa when we walked in.

  “How was Paraiso Perdido?” I asked him.

  “Tell Senor Tavo he was right,” said Pepe. “Ramon is now hiding in the closet at Conchita’s casa.”

  “He sa
ys you were right,” I told Tavo. “About Ramon, that is.”

  “I often am,” said Tavo. “Privilege of being the older brother.”

  Felix gave him a playful punch in the arm. Apparently this was part of their bonding ritual.

  “What about you?” Tavo asked. “Do you have siblings?”

  “I’m the middle one of three sisters,” I said.

  “And is your older sister always right?” asked Felix.

  “Cheryl certainly thinks so,” I said.

  “No. I am the one who is always right,” said Pepe.

  “And what about your younger sister?” Tavo asked. “Does she get her way by being cute and charming like Felix here?”

  I tried to smile. “It’s hard to say.”

  Felix jumped in, trying to save me from an awkward conversation.

  “Geri hasn’t seen her younger sister in a while,” he said. It was a topic we had discussed briefly on our first date. But we had never talked about it since. It’s not something I like to talk about.

  Tavo didn’t get the hint. “Really?” He sounded puzzled. “Does she live overseas?” Obviously he didn’t understand a family where the siblings weren’t close.

  “No,” I said. I really didn’t need to say more than that, but the words came tumbling out. “She disappeared years ago. Naturally Cheryl and I fear the worst. That she’s dead. But then the alternative is just as bad. If she is alive, how could she be so cruel as to not let us know?”

  The mood had become very solemn.

  “But I am going to find her for Geri!” Pepe announced.

  “Maybe that’s why you became a PI,” said Tavo. “So you could find her.”

  “That’s exactly what I told her!” Felix said. The two brothers smiled at each other, happy to share a common thought.

  I tried to smile, too, but it was hard. I had been searching for Terry on and off with little success. I tried to lighten the mood. “So if that’s why I became a PI, why did you become a wild animal trainer?” I asked Felix.

  “Ha! That’s easy!” said Tavo. “Living in our house growing up was like living in a three-ring circus.”

  Chapter 6

  We had to leave early the next morning to make it up to the Dogawanda ranch, so maybe it was a good thing Felix didn’t stay over. I was nervous as I drove out of Seattle, since I had never gone undercover before, but Pepe was in fine form. He stood at the passenger window, his forepaws on the armrest, drinking in the forest and mountain views as we drove higher and higher over Snoqualmie Pass east of Seattle.

  Pepe was napping by the time we got to the summit of the pass. Still napping while we drove along the length of Keechelus Lake. And still napping when I took the exit for Fern Lake. According to the map, the Dogawanda Center was up in the mountains north of that town.

  Instead of turning right into the town, I took a left, on a feeder road that led up into the mountains. There were no other cars in sight. I rolled my window down, and even at this high elevation, a balmy breeze was blowing. The scent of evergreens filled the car. Two chipmunks chased each other across the road.

  The road narrowed and the trees grew taller. The light dimmed. It seemed like I’d been driving forever, and I began to worry that I had missed a turnoff. Then I saw a wooden sign welcoming me to the Dogawanda Center for Enlightenment.

  I turned off onto a long gravel covered driveway that ended in a dirt parking lot full of cars, most of them SUVs and a few luxury sedans. There was one car that stood out among the rest: a shiny, bright red sports car that looked like it was moving a hundred miles an hour even when standing still.

  “That is Fox Black’s famous Lamborghini Coun-tach,” said Pepe.

  “Are you sure?” I asked my dog.

  “Of course,” he said. “I once saw it on the Spanish MTV channel. They showed him driving all over L.A. with a bunch of beautiful women in that car.”

  “I used to listen to his band all the time when I was in high school,” I said.

  “Well, maybe we will meet him,” said Pepe. “Right now, let us park the car. I want to get out and mark my new territory.”

  I tucked my beaten-up green Toyota into the far corner of the lot, and Pepe and I hiked across the parking lot toward the front gate. Pepe sniffed his way along the tires, muttering to himself, and occasionally stopped to leave his mark. I wondered if it was a problem that I had brought my dog. Maybe there was room for only one dog at the ranch.

  The front gate was set into a chain-link fence, topped with curled razor wire, which stretched away on either side into the woods. The actual gate, a wooden door crisscrossed with iron bands and swinging on metal hinges, was framed by heavy side beams and a sturdy roof.

  Two acolytes stood in front of the door: a man and a woman both dressed in green-dyed cotton clothing: flowing pants and a simple tunic top. The woman who introduced herself as Sequoia checked off my name on a list and asked for Pepe’s name, too. The man, who said his name was Sky, asked to see my driver’s license and checked it against my appearance.

  “Does everyone take a new name?” I asked.

  “Once you have graduated to the beta pack, Dogawanda gives you a new name,” the man said, looking me over.

  I wondered if he would approve of the outfit I had chosen. It had been difficult to know what to wear to a spiritual retreat, and I had finally decided on a vintage embroidered Mexican blouse over jeans.

  Pepe didn’t approve and had told me so. Since he once lived in Beverly Hills, he has high standards, but the guard didn’t seem to object to my outfit. He nodded as he handed my license back to me.

  “Why all the security?” I asked.

  The man frowned. “Sometimes a journalist tries to sneak in undercover. We want to ensure privacy for all of our guests.”

  “So it’s not just because Fox Black is here?” I asked.

  He shook his head. “These are our normal precautions.”

  Sequoia lit a sage stick and began wafting it around my head and whisking the smoke in my direction with a big feather.

  “What is she doing to you, Geri?” Pepe asked. “Trying to make you smell more like them?”

  It was almost as if she could hear him. “This is a purification process,” she said. “The smoke of white sage grown on the property. It helps to clear away any negative energy you may be bringing with you.” She circled around me.

  “I think my dog needs some attitude adjustment,” I said.

  “Oh no,” she assured me. “Dogs already live in the moment and do not hold on to negativity.”

  “So there, Geri!” said Pepe, dashing through the door as Sequoia opened it.

  “You would be surprised,” I said, running after Pepe.

  We went up a dirt path that wound through a grove of tall evergreens, until it came out on a rise, overlooking a cleared area that contained several buildings. There was a magnificent old lodge, made out of huge half-timbered logs, at the far side of the clearing. In the meadow at the right was a huge teepee-like structure. According to the map, it was a yurt. Other buildings filled the space between: a long low building, covered with brush and sod (the map said it was the Longhouse), a long low building that looked like it belonged in Southern California (the map said it was the Bunkhouse), and a huge old-fashioned whitewashed barn (the map said it was the Barn). The map also showed other features: a fire pit in front of the lodge, a garden behind the yurt, and a hot springs accessed by a path that wound through the woods.

  I was supposed to register in the lobby of the lodge, so we headed there. Wide, shallow steps led up to a spacious front porch lined with rustic chairs fashioned out of twigs and wicker. Inside the lodge, huge beams punctuated a voluminous space overhead. A river-rock fireplace dominated one wall. The air smelled like cedar.

  The woman who sat behind the table directly in front of the front doors introduced herself as Artichoke. She was also dressed in leaf-green, hand-dyed cotton: a long skirt and a camisole top. Her bare skin was brown from the sun
, and she wore her dark hair in a braid twisted on top of her head.

  “Thank Dog you are here!” she said. “You are the last to arrive. Now we can begin.” She checked off our names on her list, then handed me a dark-green paper portfolio containing an agenda, a map, and a name tag that I was to wear during the weekend.

  “No name tag for my dog?” I said jokingly as I slipped the elastic over my neck and straightened the plastic holder in which the card bearing my name was displayed.

  She stood up and stared over the edge of the table at Pepe. “You were not supposed to bring a dog with you!”

  “But I thought he would benefit from the wisdom of the Dog,” I said, trying to make a joke.

  “Dogawanda’s wisdom is for us humans. Dogs already live in the timeless Now,” she said.

  “That is so true!” said Pepe.

  “What’s next?” I asked.

  “Go to your room and familiarize yourself with the contents of the packet,” she told me. “The first workshop will begin in about fifteen minutes. The schedule for the weekend is in the folder I just gave you.”

  We were assigned a room in the Bunkhouse, the building that looked like a California mission. The outside walls were whitewashed stucco and the roof was covered with red tiles. Inside the room was monastic but pleasant. There was a single bed, covered with a dark wool blanket, a tiny bathroom with just a toilet and a sink, and a window that looked out over the woods. It smelled like incense, but the incense was covering up something older and less pleasant—perhaps mildew.

  We each had our own way of settling in. Pepe sniffed around the edges of the room, then disappeared under the bed. I began unpacking, putting my folded clothes in the wooden chest of drawers, hanging up my sweaters and coat on the hooks by the door. Then a bell rang, the solemn sound reverberating through the grounds. A quick check of the schedule indicated that the introductory lecture was about to begin.

  The map directed us to go to the Longhouse. At the front door, a fair-haired young man named Smoke inspected my name badge before admitting us.

  The ceiling was low and the air smelled like dust and cedar. The participants sat on two long rows of benches against the walls, all looking toward what appeared to be a stage that jutted out in a V at one end. Women far outnumbered the men, and most of the men seemed to have come with a partner. I looked around for Tammy but didn’t see her; I didn’t really expect to see her at an introductory session, unless she was an assistant. Two of the green-clad acolytes were busy setting up items on the stage, a chair plumped with orange silk pillows, and a wooden box, draped with a gold damask cloth.