A Vision of Fire

He finally smiled. “I’ve missed hearing such a hopeful expression.”

Caitlin smiled back warmly. “Hold the applause until I’m finished.”

“With?”

“Request number three. Jack London.”

The ambassador looked at her as if she might be pulling his leg. “What about him?”

“I want to try something. Now. It will just take a minute.”

The ambassador opened his hands in a gesture of approval and sat with anticipation in the desk chair. He and his wife watched as Caitlin approached Maanik’s bed. She scooped her hands gently under Jack London. The dog opened his eyes and gave her nearest fingers a few licks. Carrying him, she walked around the end of the bed to Maanik’s right side, where she was leaning against her mother. Caitlin held the dog close to Maanik’s right hand, which was resting in her lap. Instantly, the dog snapped his teeth at Caitlin’s hand, at the fingers he’d just been licking. Caitlin moved in time to avoid more than a nip but had to drop the snarling dog. He landed on the bedspread in an aggressive crouch, barking loudly at Maanik’s hand, then leaped from the bed and ran around to the other side. He stood there shaking and barking, but also trying to edge closer to the bed and to Maanik. It was a strange tug-of-war, as though invisible hands were pulling him in two directions.

The dog seemed about to jump back onto the bed when Mrs. Pawar raised her voice and Jack London froze. In rapid Hindi directed at her husband, she seemed to be arguing vehemently. Mr. Pawar started to argue back but checked himself and spoke in a low, calm voice.

Caitlin turned away to give them a semblance of privacy. She patted the bedspread near Maanik’s left hand. Jack London eyed her warily but soon jumped back to the place where he’d been sleeping earlier. He huddled against Maanik’s side and nudged his nose under the girl’s palm.

Caitlin heard a sigh from Mr. Pawar.

“I’m sorry,” Caitlin said.

“Do not be,” he told her. “How did you know he would respond like that?”

“I noticed him acting skittish last time, and in Haiti I saw animals reacting strangely around the other girl,” she said. She considered mentioning the rats in Washington Square but decided they had enough horrors to face, and there was hardly a shred of connection to the incident anyway.

The ambassador sighed sadly. “My wife wants to have him put down.”

“I would strongly argue against that,” Caitlin said quickly. “We don’t know what the connection is but it should not be broken.” She gestured at the restored tableau of mistress and pup. “My point in trying this little experiment is to show that there’s a little light here, a little bit of understanding. The dog is ahead of us, reacting to something that we don’t comprehend yet. But there’s hope that we can learn.”

The ambassador’s eyes were a bit brighter than they had been before. “I’m not sure what you mean but it is good to know that you think so. Now I must return to the United Nations. When will you come again?”

“This evening, if I can arrange it.”

“We will see you then,” he told her.

The ambassador grasped his wife’s hand and lingered just a moment as she squeezed back. Then he left the room.

“Excuse me,” said Mrs. Pawar. “I must give my husband something before he leaves.”

The woman started to stand, handing Maanik’s weight over to Caitlin. As the door closed behind her Caitlin carefully maneuvered the girl into a horizontal position, with Jack London adjusting to the new arrangement to stay close to her left hand. Placing Maanik’s head gently on her pillow, Caitlin glanced down—and jumped back.

Maanik’s eyes were open and regarding her. They were clear, alert, steady. Incredibly steady, like little machines that had suddenly locked onto her.

“Hello,” Maanik said softly. “I surprised you.”

“A little,” Caitlin admitted.

“You surprised me too.” A faint smile tugged at the girl’s mouth. “But I’m too tired to scream.”

Caitlin laughed nervously. “I guess that’s a good thing. Do you know where you are?”

Maanik nodded.

“Where?” Caitlin asked.

The girl looked around. “It is not the Taj Mahal, so it must be… my bedroom.”

Her parents had said she had a sense of humor. Caitlin was glad to see that it had returned intact. “Right. And do you know who I am?”

“I think so. Dr. O’Hara?”

“Caitlin,” she said, nodding. “And I’m happy to properly meet you.”

“Me too,” Maanik said.

“I’m unused to speaking like this with you,” Caitlin admitted. “I’ve only met you during emergencies.” Honesty, she’d always found, worked best with teenagers.

“I can try scaring you, if you like.”

“How would you do that?”

Maanik hitched up one side of her face and stuck out her tongue. “Howsh thish?”

Caitlin laughed. This was the easygoing girl she’d seen in the theater video. “How do you know about me? What do you know about me?”

“My parents said you are a doctor. A psychiatrist. Will I be cured soon?”

“Workin’ on it,” Caitlin said. “Can I get you anything? Food? Water?”