The Most Loyal Friend

            Marcy moved slowly about the house, her joints aching as she went. Each step she took was careful – avoiding the obstacles in her way, making sure not to disturb those resting nearby.

            Making her way to the first room, Marcy enjoyed the silence of the night. She could hear animals rustling in the bushes outside, – likely the family of bunnies that had taken residence in the vegetation by the front porch – but she ignored the sounds now. She would deal with that later.

            She reached the doorway of the first room and paused. The elderly woman that lay in the bed was unaware of the eyes watching her. In sleep, her lined face was free from pain, and the soft breaths that left the woman’s mouth broke the stillness of the room, offering Marcy comfort. The woman often woke throughout the night, sleeping restlessly if at all, but for now she was settled. Marcy sat for a few minutes looking into the room. Each movement was careful and practiced as she rested her body in the doorway, performing the duty of a faithful guard. For a moment Marcy thought she sensed another body next to hers, leaning against the doorframe, but she disregarded this possibility. She knew better. Nothing bothered the sleeping woman now, and Marcy would come again when the woman called out in her sleep. The woman would not be alone. Her guardian would ensure she was not.

            Though reluctant to leave the woman, Marcy continued on, moving to the next occupied room. This room was littered with obstacles, and Marcy had to move around the objects carefully. She followed in the phantom footprints that lingered on the dusty hardwood floor. This route had been mapped out long ago. Standing in the entrance of this room would not suffice. The figure curled in the bed could not be seen clearly from the doorway. The bed was pushed against the wall, and the room contained shelves overflowing with books, pictures papering the walls, and a desk, with small stuffed animals lining the top. More of these stuffed animals littered the occupied bed, and some were scattered haphazardly on the floor. The toys had likely fallen while the girl in the bed slept. Marcy knew this girl well, and she would have never knowingly allowed the toys to remain alone on the cold floor.

            The girl had grown and grown for as long as Marcy had known her – Though still not quite as much as the boy in the next room had grown. Marcy thought with a certain melancholy of this boy. He had long ago put his toys away in boxes and had stopped shoving his monkey – his best friend – into his bag before he went out the door. Marcy hoped the girl never put her toys in a box, but she had also lived long enough to know this hope was more than likely futile.

            The girl breathed evenly in her sleep, with a smile on her face as she hugged a stuffed rabbit close to her chest. Marcy didn’t have to wonder if the girl dreamt – the smile on her face was indication enough. This child wouldn’t wake crying. Tonight, she was free from the nightmares that often plagued her.

            Marcy stood near the bed for a moment, looking longingly at the soft pillows and warm blankets snuggly tucked around the girl’s form. She wanted to join the girl in her slumber and allow the softness of a bed and the relief of dreams to whisk her away. But instead she turned from the bed and left the room, continuing her task.

A boy slept in the next room Marcy entered. He could barely be called a boy any longer – his long legs now hanging off the end of the bed. The harsh lines of his face and abrasive tone that often characterized him during the day were absent now, leaving behind a man who – in sleep at least – knew nothing but kindness. Abruptly, he shifted in his sleep, as he often did. The movement would have been disconcerting to some, but Marcy knew the routine by now. He would roll over onto one side before rolling back to the other. He would only wake when the sun rose and light slanted through the window. By then he would never know that anyone had checked on him while he slept in the dark.

            She turned then, making her way back down the hallway to the room where a couch sat against one wall; a tv and table against the other. A dim light filtered into the room from a nightlight in the bathroom nearby. Though her vision had long since blurred at the edges, the nightlight provided just enough light for her to arrive at her last stop of the night.

            A man smiled down at her from a picture on the wall. His lined face and white hair showed his age, and a smile stretched across his mouth. She stopped deliberately in front of the picture – laying down and crossing her paws in front of her with a soft whine. As Marcy looked up at him he seemed to look back at her, and she let out a small bark, careful to be quiet enough not to disturb those who rested throughout the house.

            She let out another bark, growing louder now, chancing waking the sleeping humans as she delivered her nightly report. “I finished our job for the night. Did I do good?” As always, she received no audible answer from the man she looked up at, but his eyes answered her with a resounding “yes.”

            She knew he wasn’t coming back. He’d left one day without bending down to pet her as he normally did before leaving her for the day. When he didn’t turn to her with a smile or loving reassurances she had suspected something was wrong. And that night, when he wasn’t there to take up his post and walk with her from room to room, she had known. No one looked in on the girl or tucked her into bed while placing each stuffed animal carefully around her sleeping body. And when the elderly woman woke that night and made her way precariously to the bathroom, no one was hovering nearby, waiting with their hand on her back in case she stumbled. So the second night without him, Marcy walked from room to room on her own.

            Now, laying on her stomach, Marcy let out a small huff, her eyes never leaving the picture. He wouldn’t have left his post as guard for no reason. If he could have, she knew that he would have come back. So she wouldn’t let them go unprotected, Marcy took his place, and followed his path where she could still see his footsteps, night after night.

            On this night, Marcy continued her report:

“Everyone is alright. Hailey dropped her stuffed animals on the floor again. I can’t pick them all up like you used to, but she still has her bunny with her. I’ve never understood why she likes it, but I have to admit it’s soft. Jack is tossing and turning as always, but I’m sure he’ll sleep through the night. Sarah will wake as she always does, and I’ll go to her when she needs me.”

            The self-appointed guardian concluded her report dutifully, waiting as always for a response – receiving none. His eyes seemed to follow her as she shifted though, and she convinced herself that the smile on his face was in response to her fulfilling her duties. She nosed at the ground, wishing she could follow him to bed and settle on the warm blanket at the foot of the bed, as she had every night, for many years. Instead she settled more comfortably on the floor, letting her muscles release their tension and rolling onto her side. Her legs fanned in front of her, but she positioned herself so that she could still look up at the picture.

            “Don’t worry,” she thought, attempting to console him even as she drifted to sleep. “I look after them now. You don’t need to worry about us.”