CHAPTER 30
This work Albert left to those who would faithfully carry it out, namely Hadji Singh and others who joined the Eco Defenders in India. Albert and I and the other animals returned to the Zephyr and flew back to our original landing spot in the middle of Darjeeling, a few miles away, and back to 2525, where everything was peaceful, secure, and salubrious.
Mullah was glad to be back in his accustomed time and place, where he lived a vastly interesting and contented life. He was proud of having been a part of our excursion into the distant past to make life better for the people and animals back then, but relieved to be back home.
As for me, I was anxious to see Rovette. I was anxious in both senses of the word: I was eagerly looking forward to seeing her and I was nervous about it.
What if she didn’t remember me? What if she did remember me, but only vaguely, and didn’t care too much whether she ever saw me again? What if Rovette had already found another?
These questions monopolized my thoughts. They made me sad and angry at the same time. I realized, though, that maybe I was worrying for no reason. Why waste time worrying about what might be, when all I had to do was go over to her house and find out what the situation really was.
I determined to do precisely that — to boldly go and see about things. Why was I wasting time brooding when I could be up and off and confront the answer to my questions? If any of my ‘what-ifs’ were true, I may as well face up to them as soon as possible and begin processing them so that I could get on with my life.
But what if my fears were unfounded! What if Rovette remembered me with the same sort of thoughts that I had toward her, and had not taken up with any other Dog! I needed to get over there as soon as I could! Time was wasting!
‘I’m burning daylight! What am I doing, sitting here moping, when I could be on my way to Rovette’s house?’ I reproached myself.
And with that, I leaped up onto my four legs and immediately scampered away, my claws clicking against the macadam. I did not run — I forced myself to remain somewhat calm and dignified, at least — but I did trot at a fairly good pace — until I reached the street on which Rovette lived. Then, I stopped in my tracks. ‘Am I setting myself up for disappointment, after all?’ I wondered. Maybe I should go back and wait for her to look me up . . . but no! How would she even know I was here? ‘It’s up to me,’ I told myself. ‘I’ve got to take the Bullmastiff by the horns . . . er, by the . . . scruff of its neck, or whatever, and go see her. To see what’s up, or what’s going down, or . . . anyway, to find out what’s going on with her.’
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