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Author Alan here for just a moment: Thanks to Dorothy Colleen for a Beta Reading.

I thought today was going to be a nice, easy, relaxed day with my daughter, after all the big Holidays stuff had settled down.

Until yet another nightmare dumped my kid out of bed. Here's the way things went. And that's "Revolutions", with a "V".

{Notes from me, Ralph, aka Ralph!!, or Dad, or Daddy or Daddeee!, and sometimes even “Ralph’s Custom Creations in Wood,” depending.

Chessy Dog’s name is pronounced ‘Chess – ee’, like the game, and not like ‘cheese’. She won’t even look at people who say it wrong.}

I was in that contented place between sort of waking up and having to really get out of bed and start the day. The last month or so had been hectic but satisfying in my wood-shop. Getting out a couple of big furniture orders, then all the little toys, games, and doll houses.

My latest item is “Baby’s Bite and Bang Blocks (TM)”. These are stuffed fabric cubes with an alphabet print. Thanks, Mom, for pushing me into that home economics class.

Of course, I charged Customers a bit extra for rush jobs, and I charged them ‘full freight’ for rush shipping. Then I took care of all of the post-Holidays bargain hunters.

Amy told us she might come home soon from her “high finance” negotiations. All I can say is that the idea of two companies buying each other “just doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

Then, with some kind of teachers’ conference canceling school today, which should brighten the heart of any ten-year-old. Wait. She’ll correct me to ‘ten and one half.’

So this Friday was maybe going to be a perfect “Daddy-Daughte” …

“No! No! Mommy! Daddy! RED!” Then a wail and a thump from Debby’s room. Two bigger thumps as 30 kilos of Chessy-Dog tried open Debby’s door to get to Her Girl. Then a loud howling (I didn’t know Chessy could say that!) and a third thump when Chessy skidded and bounced off a wall as she rounded a corner to get me. It seems the Goddess of Dogs and the God of Hardwood Floors have never liked each other.

Chessy was now non-stop whining and nearly dragging me, as if I wasn’t already moving at full speed. (And why was Debby’s door latched?) Debby was tangled in her bedding, still moaning. I tried to comfort her, get her untangled, and check for any bruising, all while trying to work around Chessy, who was in full throttle face-lick mode.

I got her mostly awake, but she was still crying and trembling. And her trembling scared me.

Debby’s one of the bravest people I know. I’ve never seen her back down from bullies, even ones much bigger than she is. The only things I’ve ever seen her back away from were things obviously dangerous or obviously stupid. And some of the antics and dares from her schoolmates and so-called friends could be both.

Amy and I had watched her in an Aikido demonstration match. She volunteered to replace an injured classmate and go against an opponent who was two ‘belts’ above her. Sensei bowed to Debby, and then (Gaia bless her), Sensei said, “No.”

“Sweet Pea, what happened? What’s hitting 100 on a 5-point scare-o-meter?” (Her answer would have come out in a rush, but was interrupted by a lot of crying, sniffling, and hiccups.)

“I dreamed everybody went away. I couldn’t find you and Mom and Chessy I couldn’t find my friends I couldn’t find home I couldn’t find school I couldn’t find Aunt Kay and Uncle Pete I couldn’t find Mom and you and find Chessy I couldn’t find my friends and I couldn’t find Mom or find you. Nobody was anywhere.”

"Debs, dearest, that’s one of the scariest dreams I’ve ever heard of. I can see why it was a nightmare. I might get nightmares just from you telling me. Did you know you called out “RED!” just before I woke you up? Remember when Mom broke that giant glass jar of pickles and she was barefoot in the kitchen?”

I saw her face try to twitch into a smile.
“Daddy, that was only a little Red. My dream was a big RED.”

“RED” is our family Code Word for “Emergency Stop!” “Yellow” is for “Wait! Slow down. We gotta talk.” And “Green” is, well, green. Amy and I didn’t mean to, but one time we got a bit carried away in a tickle-fest, and Debby called RED. We instantly stopped and pulled our hands back. Debby caught her breath and said, “Yel-yellow?” We restarted the tickling, but not as vigorously.

Finally, I said, “I’m starving. Anybody ready for some Yellow pancakes?” Amy gave me ‘That Look.’

“Ralph, you know better. We never joke with our Code Words.” “Yes Dear.” What else could I say? She was right, and I was wrong. “I’ll start the pancakes.”

My ‘Color Reminiscences’ had taken but a moment. Debby was starting to calm down; if we could call her still hugging me like a “Vulcan Mind Meld” ‘calm.’ After a while of just sitting and hugging, she said, “Daddy, I’m really tired. Can I take a nap?”

“No problems, Little Warrior.” That’s a nickname we use because of her Aikido classes. “Chessy will snuggle and stand guard, and she’ll get me if you need me. Did you know she tried to drag me into your room this morning?” A mumbled, “Chessy, good dog.”

Debby was almost asleep when I had a flash. I grabbed her Sandy-Bear plushie, and tucked Sandy under her arm. A sleepy-mumbled, “Sandy good bear. Daddy, good Da…” and she was out. I waited a few minutes to be sure.

I swear, Chessy gave me a look that said, “I’ve got her, Dad. I’ll call you if we need you.”

I went downstairs, confidant that our Debby ‘was safe in good paws.’

Chessy’s name started out as Chestnut because of her very beautiful ‘chestnut-brown’ fur. Well, that awkward name lasted only a day before becoming “Chester.” Only once was it “Chester-Jester.” We all said, “Eeww!” Chessy just looked at us and ‘huffed.’ So Chessy she is.

Thinking about Chessy’s name made me remember how she joined our family. Some %$% had left her tied to our front porch. We heard a lot of loud, frantic, and terrified barking.

Debby saw the dog and shouted, “Mom, get me some treats and water…please.” She paused at the back door to call out, “Dad, stay inside…please.” She ran out of our back door and was near our front steps before Amy or I could stop her. Again, “Dad, stay inside…please.”

I was moving to get Debby away from this strange, fear-crazed dog. Amy stopped me with a hand on my arm, and now our Debby was getting ever closer to a freaked-out dog.

Amy said, “She’s right. It’s hard, but you have to stay inside. Too many dogs have been abused, mostly by men. You could make the dog freak out even more. I’ll get the treats and water and take them to her.” So I did what every smart husband does. “Yes, dear,” and I stayed put while chewing my nails.

I watched Debby slowly get near the dog’s lunge-bite range. She knelt down, angled maybe 45 degrees away, and was not staring at the dog. I couldn’t make out most of what she was saying, but it sounded quiet, calm, and soothing. Amy came up behind her, and I heard Debby say, “Sideways, Mom. Please don’t look at her. Put the stuff behind me where I can reach it. Then back away slowly, but don’t turn your back. Thanks.”

While we were watching, Amy told me that Debby’s health class just had a unit on safety around lost, wild, and unknown animals.

It took about 45 minutes, but the dog went from “Freak-Out City” to putting her head in Debby’s lap and getting petted. Debby called her Mom to come out.

“Mom, she has a bleeding sore. Don’t go nuts. She got some of her blood on me. We need to get her to a vet. Please? And I want to keep her. Please?”

“Debby, your Dad and I will have to talk...”

I poked my head out the door. “I already called the vet; they’re ready when we get there. I’ll put a drop cloth in the truck, then pull around. Debby, it looks like you get to load the dog.” Amy gave me a big grin and two thumbs up. Debby let out a happy but quiet “Yippee.” It seems Dog was asleep in her lap...

At the vet, we found out Dog was dehydrated and underweight. We knew about the oozing, infected bite wound. Amy said, “Debby, when we get home, I’ll show you how to wash that blood out of your jeans.” Dog wouldn’t leave Debby’s side. It was strange, but the Dog was a perfectly good girl for all the tests, wound care, and even her shots.

The required blood draw did get some whining. Debby had to keep a hand on her for everything. The moment Debby let go, the hackles went up, the teeth came out, and so did a low warning growl.

Only Debbie could soothe the future Chessy. The vets couldn’t find an ID ‘chip’. We already knew she had no collar and no tags. The choke-lead that ‘persons unknown’ used to tie her to our porch was just a half-step above an old used rope.

Of course, we had to post ‘Found Dog’ fliers. Debbie and I had gotten as far as the third lamppost with our posters, and I saw that she was just really dragging... “Your heart is really not into posting these fliers, is it?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Let’s talk. If Chessy was your dog, what would you want us to be doing? You would want people trying to get her back home to you, right?”

“They don’t want her! Weren't you listening and watching? They just dumped her with a cheap choke-leash. They didn’t even ring our bell. No collar. No tags. The vet said there was no microchip. They felt for one, and that scanner thing didn’t beep. That wound on her shoulder was a bite, and it had never been treated.”

“They! Don’t! Want! Her!!”

“Chessy is my dog! I mean, she’s our dog!”

We took down all of our fliers on the way home.

The first thing, of course, was to call her doctor. I briefly told the nurse receptionist about the nightmares. I said I thought this was only “one step” away from ‘go to the emergency room’. The nurse said he’d have the doctor call me. I asked for her to call on my cell; I didn’t want the house phone to wake Debby, and I gave my cell number.

My next call was >not< calling Amy. Sure, the nightmares are Big Time Important, but I didn’t want to ‘jiggle Amy’s arm’, or get her distracted during one of her high-finance meetings. Besides, she makes the Big Bucks, and I just pull down the Big Happys. (Don’t tell Amy.) We might be OK with what I make from my woodworking business, but it would be tight.

Then, I needed to set us up for our ‘Universal Cure-All.’ And for that, I needed an old University friend.

*ring … ring … ri*
“Good morning from Za Za Pizza Go Za. What can I do for my Number One Family today?”

“Knock it off with the geeky numbers, Bernie. We all know that you are much happier spinning pizza dough than you ever were spinning computer loops.” We’ve been bantering long before we even left the University. I think we have been bantering for so long that I can’t remember when we started. Maybe on the day we met.

“Tell you what, Bernie, my Number One Daughter is having a really bad week of nightmares. Chessy is keeping an eye and paw on her right now. Please tell that fancy HAL 9000 order system of yours to tag us. When she calls, be nice and ask if she wants any extras. Don’t tell her this, but add in two double-chocolate shakes with sprinkles and a cherry. I’m going to need one of them.”

“No problemo, Boss. Ya got any news flashes for when our other Number One flies back to your nest? That peripatetic itinerant gallivanting you guys do has gotta be hard on everybody, especially Debby.”

“*sigh* Yeah, we know, Bernie, we know. Our ‘revolutions’ are to work on our traveling.”

“Wait. Don’cha mean ‘resolutions’?"

“Yes. But ‘revolutions’ is what Debby said, trying to pronounce a new word.”

“*Chuckle* A-OK. All set, I’ll wait for her call.”

With Debbie asleep and my calls made, I could ‘catch my breath’ and Think.

When did her nightmares start? About two days after New Year’s Day.

Was there anything different? Well, Kay and Pete were here, but they always are. Somehow, going someplace noisy to party with drunken strangers just has no appeal for any of us.

Dammit to Gaia! What! The! Fork! Happened?!”

We had done our New Year’s Eve “usuals.” We watched fireworks in the park, got home before the drunk drivers hit the road (and everything else), loaded up on Bernie’s pizza and some snacks, and fizzy grape and apple juices as symbolic Champagne. We all tried to stay awake to watch that Big Ball drop.

What was different? … The only new thing was our New Year’s ‘Revolutions.’ Give the kid a break; she’s ten (and a half!) and had never heard the word ‘resolutions’ before...

Amy and I shared our first resolution. It’s always “Be Here Now.” That Resolution was one of the first things we connected on, even before we started dating.

We told Debby that most resolutions are usually kept private. Not secrets, really. But if we tell people our resolutions, then the busybodies might try to ‘help’, and turn our resolutions into a big mess.

Chessy came down, nudged me, and whined. I let her out; she zipped to her spot in the yard, unloaded, and zipped in and up to “Her Girl.”

She’s looking a little better. But not by much.

“Debby, I’ve been thinking. Those nightmares – they started just after the New Year. Did something happen?”

Daddy? Will you always love me?”

“Yes. Your Mom and I have always loved you, even before we started you.”

“Huh?”

“Birds and bees stuff, dear. Tomorrow, OK?" Debby trusts us, that when we say ‘Tomorrow, OK?’, we mean one-sleep-from-now tomorrow. That lets us get on with today.

“Debbie, I have a hunch. And you, young Lady, have burned a lot of energy. And my second hunch is that we are going to burn up a lot more. So first, please order us a pizza.” Debby was really thrilled when her Mom and I gave her ‘Pizza Authority’ for her tenth birthday. And her birthday-party friends were really impressed that Debby could order what they wanted without needing her “rents” as go-betweens.

*ring … ring … *
“Good afternoon from Za Za Pizza Go Za. What can I do for my Number One Family today?”

“Hello, Mr. Bernie. Dad says I should order us a pizza.”

OK, One large pizza. And please, Number One Tween, knock it off that ‘Mister’ stuff. You make me think you’re talking to my Dad. Just call me Uncle Bernie, OK?

“But Dad says I should…”

“Tell your Dad – no, never mind. It’s my name, so it’s my rule. And my rule is to please call me Uncle Bernie.”

“Anyway, one large. Anything different or extra?"

“Yes, Mis... Uncle Bernie. We would like it deep-dish, with one half kale, one half eggplant, and triple pineapple, please. Then double on all of these: mushrooms, cheese, pepperoni, olives, and roasted garlic. Thanks!”

“Number One, you can’t fool me and my HAL 9000 Ordering Computer. I taught HAL to know you all hate eggplant, kale, and pineapple. I even have them flagged as allergens."

“Anything else?”

“Yes, please, M- Uncle Bernie. An extra-large double chocolate shake with whipped cream and three cherries. Thank you.”

I interrupted. “Bernie, I feel like I’m dropping all the pieces of all my marbles. I just gotta make sure. Everything’s vegan-all-the-way, right?”

When he stopped laughing, Bernie said, “Man, you really are all stressed out. I’ve had you and Amy ‘green-flagged’ even before we graduated from the University. Relax, buddy. I’ve got this.”

“OK, Number Ones. About an hour. Deep-dish takes longer."

All of us hate kale and okra. One time, we were with Bernie when he was eating a pineapple pizza.

Debbie looked at the pineapple. Then she looked at us. We all looked at the pizza. We accidentally synchronized saying, “Eeww!” Amy nodded at me. I nodded at Amy. “OK, we are breaking that food rule.”

A puzzled Bernie asked, “What food rule?”

Amy started: “You have to...”
Me: “- at least...”
Debbie: “- try it.”

Debby added, “And there is always PB&J. Trying them is how I found out that I like dried plums, seaweed candy, BBQ pulled jackfruit, and tamarind.”

Debby’s adding pineapple to our kale-eggplant joke told me she was maybe in a little better shape. Maybe.

“Debby, while we’re waiting… Here’s my hunch: Come sit by me. It’s your New Year’s resolution, right?" She started trembling and nodded.

“Daddy, promise me that you will always love me, no matter what.”

“Yes, dear. I promise, no matter what.

So, what’s scaring the bravest girl I know...?”
Trembling …

“Yep, it is your resolution.”

She nodded into my chest. “OK, let’s try this. How about if I show you my ‘revolution’?”

She whispered, “No jokes, OK? And I know the word is ‘resolution’.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right; this is too serious and important for jokes. Would you like to get my resolution for us, please? It’s in our bathroom in the ‘woods’ envelope.”

Amy had made us each a stack of fun envelopes from some funky gift wrap. My envelopes were ‘Woods of the World’, hers were made from ‘Currencies of the World’ paper, and Debby’s were ‘Big Dogs of the World.’

Debbie got back with my envelope and hers as well. She was looking like “somebody had kicked her kitten.”

“Daddy, I’m really sorry. It’s all my fault.”

“What? Don’t be sorry about the nightmares. We’ll figure them out.”

“I know, Daddy. But this one is my fault. I had my door closed because I knew I was thrashing about in my sleep. I didn’t want to hurt Chessy. When Chessy tried to get to me this morning, she left deep scratches in my door. I’m sorry!”

“Debby, don’t worry about it. I can easily fix your door in the Shop. I know you didn’t want to hurt Chessy. But when 30 kilos of Chessy-Dog wanted to get to Her Girl … Did you know Chessy hit your door twice and then almost dragged me to you?”

“OK, Debby. Open up and read mine. Just the first two are important for now.”

Debby read out:

“Be Here Now”, and then:

“Take Debby to as many craft shows and on as many selling trips as we can manage.”

At least this time, I had my arms full of Happy Crying.

“OK, only if you want to, and only when you’re ready. Let’s read yours.”

She buried her head in my chest, started trembling, and gave me her envelope.

I read her single line.
.
.
.
“Oh my… May Bright Blessings of Gaia be upon us all...”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! and Yes! I love you now and forever, and beyond the end of forever."

A giant breath-holding sigh, and a minute later, Debby was asleep in my arms, with Chessy wedged up against both of us.

Chessy ‘alerted’ to the sound of a truck in our driveway, even before I heard it. Debby woke when the doorbell rang and tried to answer the door. But when a dog is as big as Chessy, and who is on Guard Duty, tells a ten-year-old (ten and a half!) to “Stay!” well, they stay.

Before I got to the door, we heard Bernie sing out, “Za Za Pizza Go Za! Birthday Special Delivery!” Chessy was instantly there, wagging her whole back end and doing happy whining. Any other dog greeting a friend who had pizza would have been jumping all over them. Not Chessy. She had somehow learned, all on her own, to keep a meter back and wait for people to ‘invite’ greetings. Chessy is one scary-smart dog.

“OK, Number One Tween, this bag is for the fridge – no spilling them, and one custom pizza for you and Number One Dad, and one personal pizza for Number One Dog!”

“M – Uncle Bernie…It’s not my birthday. And I didn’t order a pizza for Chessy…”

“I’m sorry. But when you and your great gang of giggly girls celebrated your birthday three days before the calendar date of your Big One-Oh… Well, HAL and I both missed it.”

“And for Chessy, the moment I clicked ‘garlic’ on your pizza, HAL started flashing ‘RED – Allergens’. Garlic hurts dogs a lot; it can maybe even kill them. Chessy can’t have even a bit your pizza, so she gets her own.”

“Bernie, wait! Personal delivery and an extra pizza for Chessy… What’s all this costing us anyways?”

“Ralph, you can’t pay for a gift. Says so, right there in the definition.”

“Any-hoo, us just standing here and jawboning means those pizzas are chillin’ without you. And I gotta run, go check on my other shop, and spin the dough that makes my dough. Catch you next time, Number Ones. Bye!”

“Thanks, Bernie!”
“Thanks, Uncle Bernie!”
“*sneeze!*”

It didn't take long for us to divide the pizza between the insides of ourselves and the inside of the fridge. (And why is it that Chessy never has leftover pizza?) I was working on my milkshake, with our not-so-Little Warrior starting a second shake.

I took a pencil and a notepad, and the three of us snuggled on the sofa to talk. Mostly, I listened. I asked some questions, and Debby asked a lot. About the fifth time, I was joined in chanting, “I don’t know; we will just have to learn that together.”

Then there was a question that I could answer.

“What if something happens to you and Mom?”

“Yes, that would be really, really sad, and really, really scary.”

“When I told you we loved you even before we started you … That’s not just me and your Mom. Five of us at school were, and still are, really great friends. The other three are your Aunt Kay and Uncle Pete, and Uncle Bernie. All five of us went to a lawyer, and we wrote up all sorts of fancy paperwork. What it means is that if any one of us, or a couple, like me and your Mom, or Kay and Pete, or Uncle Bernie, if they have children, but somehow can’t take care of them, all of the rest of us are automatically their Guardians.

“So you, our lucky ‘Number One Tween’, have not two but five parents. Two active and three on standby.”

That seemed to pause the questions for now. So Cheesy and I made a sandwich on the sofa, with our tween in be-tween.

At last, Amy ‘pinged’ my phone, and we turned on our internet video call.

Amy and I pretty much talked ‘all over each other.’

“Good news! --- Good news! --- We are done --- We have a handle on --- flying home --- those nightmares! --- tomorrow!”

When our general happy noises died down, I asked, “Sweet Pea, you or me?”

“Hi Mom. Uhm, well… *deep breath* My name is Steven.”

It seemed forever. We watched a parade of expressions on Amy’s face and a lot of silent tears and sobs. And Amy used up a lot of tissues.

“St … Stev … *deep breath* Steven, would you please go get my Resolutions? They’re in our bathroom, in my ‘money’ envelope, next to your Dad’s ‘woods’ envelope.”

Our Steven got back, and Amy said, “Steven, please read my first two.”

“Be Here Now.” And then:

“Arrange work so I can spend a lot more time at home for Debby.”