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Grace Murphy pulled her dog, Chiefy's, leash from the hook it was hanging on. Chiefy knew there was a walk in store, and immediately began to jump and whine in excitement.
Grace laughed, "I know girl, let's go, shall we?"
Attaching Chiefy's leash to her collar, she giggled as Chiefy's excitement poured over her. They exited their new little place across the road from the beach and began their walk down Sunset Beach Road. As Chiefy sniffed the ground, finding the perfect place to do her business, Grace looked toward the water and the bungalows on the beach. She had purposely bought across from the beach because she had the view, but the price was significantly lower because she wasn't on the beach. And, she had a public access path to the water from her place, so when she finally had her remodeling finished and could rent out her bungalows, short-term tenants could simply walk across the road and access the beach. Win-win as far as she was concerned.
Chiefy squatted and only tinkled, marking her territory in dog speak. Grace patiently waited and smiled as a group of young people began splashing each other on the sandbar. Her heart felt a little heavy as she watched. Those days for her were gone. Playful youth. No cares. No worries. She almost couldn't remember having a carefree life.
Chiefy finished her business then stopped and looked as one of the girls on the sandbar squealed. Chiefy let out a muffled bark and Grace laughed. "It's not your job to protect them, Chiefy."
She continued walking and Chiefy hesitantly followed along. Just past Sarge's Sandbar, the road curved to the right and away from the beach. The giggles of the folks in the water faded and the vehicles on Main Street took up the distraction. She led Chiefy to the right once again and onto Main Street. The loud boom of firecrackers filled the air and Chiefy barked. Grace shook her head. Her brother, rest his soul, would have had a monster PTSD attack at the sudden and unexpected crack filling the air. She'd never let off another firecracker after he came home from the service. His mind and body never recovered.
Swallowing the sadness that filled her throat, she sucked in a deep breath and picked up her pace. She passed the bookkeeping office, and Bodie's Gas Station. That's all the sign in the window said, Bookkeeping. Next to the gas station was a little garage, which had a peeling white sign with blue letters that said, Garage. She chuckled because it seemed no one here thought it was necessary to name their businesses anything but what they were, except for Bodie and Sarge.
Her eyes landed on a man in front of the garage, kneeling in front of an old motorcycle. She watched him because he was on his knees, his head down, his hands on his knees and he shook profusely. Images of her brother filled her mind. She recognized PTSD anytime, anywhere. Chiefy did too and she pulled Grace across the street toward the man.
Grace tugged on Chiefy's leash, not wanting to startle the man, but Chiefy was insistent in getting to him. Chiefy tugged and pulled until they reached him. She then slowly approached and laid down on the pavement next to the man, and rested her chin on his leg. Grace watched as her heart swelled for this smart, beautiful, and protective pet she'd inherited from her brother upon his death. Owning a German Shepherd hadn't been part of her single life plan, but here she was with Chiefy and immensely happy for it.
The man slowly lifted his left hand and patted Chiefy on the head, then smoothed his hand down her neck and rested it on her upper back. Grace watched for a few minutes, to be sure all was safe for Chiefy, then hurried inside the station. An old man peered around the open hood of a car, "Can I help you?"
"Yes. I need a bottle of water. Do you have one I can buy?"
He chuckled, then slowly stood and stepped around the vehicle wiping his hands on a rag. "I don't sell..."
She cut him off. "It's for him," she interrupted. Lowering her voice she whispered, "I think he's having a PTSD episode. Likely from the firecrackers that just fired off."
The old man peered outside at the kneeling man and nodded. He opened an old cooler in the back of the shop and pulled a bottle of water from inside. "Take it to him. I don't sell them here, but he can have mine."
Grace nodded, then slowly approached the still, kneeling man. His hand had begun to pet Chiefy and Chiefy's tail began to slowly wag.
Grace twisted the cap on the bottle of water to loosen it, then held it down to the man. "Please take a drink of water to wet your throat. It will help."
The man's shoulders expanded as he took a deep breath and slowly his head rose. His deep brown eyes held so much in them. Pain. Embarrassment. Sorrow. His jaw clenched tightly and she shook the bottle slowly to entice him.
He reached up and took the water from her, their fingers brushing slightly. "Thanks." His raspy voice croaked out.
"You're welcome." Grace sat on the other side of Chiefy and patted her sweet pup. She whispered, "You're a good girl, Chiefy."
Taking a good long pull from the water bottle, the man then lowered it, replaced the cap, and nodded slowly. "She is a good girl. How did she know to do that?"
"Before me, Chiefy lived with my brother. He had severe PTSD. She was trained to help him with his attacks. She saw you from across the street and dragged me over here to help you. She's special in that way. She wants to help. Loves it. And the treats that go along with it."
The man chuckled. "Of course, the treats get attention."
Chiefy's ears perked up at treats and Grace reached into the little zippered pouch at her waist, for a liver treat for Chief. "Here you go, girl. You earned it."
The man took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Thank you. I'm terribly embarrassed, but grateful you and Chiefy happened upon me. That one came out of the blue."
Grace nodded. "Likely those fireworks that were let off. They'd hit my brother the hardest."
He nodded slowly. "Yeah."
"My name is Grace Murphy. This is Chiefy, of course."
"My name is Sid Hoffman."
"It's nice to meet you, Sid. Are you working on this bike?"
For the first time she noticed the tools laying on the ground between his knees and the bike.
