There was a sharp double rainbow circle following her all through the frozen relocated clouds. Feet just itched for a barefoot day, even as she found childlike joy in crunching through crust-topped mounds in her bulky black-furred stompers. Her woolen socks were already disappointingly soaking wet, somehow slipped down that insufferable half-inch that is just too much to ignore and yet not enough to bother with the five-minute drudgery of removing and replacing the boots. So, Nordic dog walker that she was, she focused her attention on the visual delights of December.
As usual, there were tiny smiles volunteering from, on average, one snowflake per square foot all across the suburban tundra. However, on this sunlit morning walk, “Mrs.” Gorgonsen was finding herself dwindling and dawdling just as much as her sweet little Magpie in the smart red plaid jacket that brought out the deep chocolate notes of her spectacular curls.
For the record, Magpie was, like any good miniature Cavalier King Charles worth its breeding costs, both good-looking and wily. Her leash-holder’s usual “two birds with one stone” approach [1], which consisted of a break-neck pace that provided each of them with a toned rear, offered only two very small windows of opportunity to do her proverbial business. She took today’s unexpected deviation from the norm as an excuse to make several different yellow holes in the pristine snow. Once she tired of that, she took to nosing down into the freezer for the good stuff, finding hidden piles of decay, eating things she shouldn’t while her two-legged promenade partner daydreamed. What a holiday! What a joy! What a worthwhile outcome of having to put on that ridiculous Dolce-n-Gablowme fashion piece that matched the Missus’ scarf-and-hat set.
Meanwhile, The Missus, as it were, was watching a double rainbow reflected in the snow. Never before had she seen such stark colors before her. Never before had the light spectrum chosen her, her, to witness its private display of grandeur. Sure, she had read accounts of tremendous beauty, seen the National Geographic spreads and watched the youtube video [2] her kids pulled up a few times. But for a piece of it to lay itself at her feet, unabashedly glowing right into her eyes, holding her gaze with a tenacious passion for all the world to see? It was magnificent. It was flabbergasting. It was a little bit embarrassing. She felt—and she would describe it this way to no one, not even her dog (who was at the moment feasting on partially decomposed bird thigh)—as though she were suddenly an adolescent boy with a very obvious erection, hoping that no one saw, yet still drawn to stare at the inspiration of such unavoidable arousal. How shamefully liberating! She must take a hot bath when she and Magpie got back home.
“MAGPIE!” Really. Had she no discipline? The pooch had engaged such a daring indulgence of her rebellious nature, she was actually digging up the small potted evergreen in the neighbor’s yard. How she had made it through all that frozen earth was a great mystery, but rather than staying to explore the situation, Mrs. Gorgonsen allowed her inner teenager to yank on the retractable leash and lead them both as far from that house as they could get in one minute.
When she regained her composure, “Mrs.” experienced a moment of belly-dropping panic. The rainbow was nowhere in sight. Where had her secret companion gone? She spun around in the snow, looking wildly for the spectacular split of spectral splendor. It was not to be found; in that maddening moment, she felt the acute hollow nesting place of a dreadful beast who lived right below the inexplicable joy that had just been touched. The cavern throbbed one dark, hidden note of finality, and then it, too, left her. Infuriating, in a way that only things which are out of one’s reach as well as out of one’s awareness can infuriate.
It was over. Something was over, and Mrs. “Mrs.” Gorgonsen had only just begun to glimpse it before she was so rudely cut off. Stupid dog. Stupid neighbors. Stupid property rights. Isn’t it always the way, mused her morose voice-over, that the minute I find something good, the minute God gives me something that is just for me, someone else comes and creates havoc, makes me crazy, and takes it away? Every time. Every time!! And she was off, letting her disappointment make broad, sweeping accusations and assessments. Every time!!!!
Having crunched back to her front walk in this distracted manner, cursing everything from the shampoo her husband finished off last week to the second grade lunch table incident, “Mrs.” was completely engrossed in her grumpiness by the time she saw the double rainbow again. It winked up at her from the shiny land iceberg next to her driveway and she yelped like Magpie, frozen in her tracks, dropping the plastic bag of shit [3] and resuming her praise for the angels.
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1. Or “two loaves with one knife,” for those dedicated to ahimsa. **patented MC phrase, free for public use as of this writing.**
2. In case you missed it the first time: look into the rainbow, look into your soul!
3. The dog dodged it, looked up at the entranced woman, and promptly began chewing through the plastic.