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Mila

The sound had to be coming from a dog, and the poor thing was in distress.

Mila tilted her head, trying to figure out what direction to walk.

The parking lot was mostly empty except for a few employee cars and her ancient panel van.

She didn't have much time before the night security guard swung around again, and she would need to hide in her van which was doubling as her home. While no one would call the cops to have her arrested if they found her sleeping in her vehicle, they wouldn’t let her stay parked there either.

Having to leave would be a shame. This was one of her favorite spots to park at night because it was a quiet area and patrolled by private security all night. If anyone tried to break into her van while she slept, the security guard might help her.

But that also meant the risks of getting discovered were higher. If security figured out that her vehicle didn’t belong to one of the nighttime staff, she might lose this parking lot for good. Besides, she really shouldn’t be outside of her warm, cozy van looking for a dog.

Even if the dog sounded heartbroken and lost.

“Where are you?” she sang-whispered as loudly as she dared. “Come on, baby. Come here. Show me where you are. I have a nommie treat for you!” She waved the stale donut in the air. “It’s an apple fritter. Everyone likes apple fritters!”

Now she couldn’t even hear the dog crying anymore. Drat, had she scared it by trying to talk to it? Or was it the food? She was well aware that a day-old donut wasn’t proper dog food, but she clearly remembered her family dogs happily eating any number of things that weren’t proper dog food.

Frustrated, she slumped back, resting her back on the front wheel of a nearby Toyota sedan. “Please come out. I promise I won’t hurt you. I’d never hurt you. But I can’t stay out much longer.”

Mila had always struggled with her luck, and tonight was no different.

The sky had been dark and threatening all day.

Of course, it decided to start dumping water in thick sheets of torrential rain now.

She was going to be soaked soon, and this was her only clean outfit.

If she wanted to change into something dry, it was going to be out of her dirty clothes pile.

Great. Just great.

Then she heard the whine again, and this time it was much clearer.

Crawling on hands and knees, she rounded the front of the car where the bumper was almost touching a cinderblock wall.

On the other side of the car was a pile of garbage.

On the rare occasion the dumpster filled up, they piled the garbage in the space between the dumpster and the line that marked the beginning of the parking row.

The whine was definitely coming from the pile of garbage. Had a dog gone looking for scraps and got tangled?

Concern for the unknown dog made Mila forget about the rain and roving security guard. Images of a dog with a discarded shopping bag wrapped around its neck made Mila hurry to the pile of trash and dig.

“Where are you, sweetie?” she called out as loudly as she dared. “I’ll get you free.”

The parking lot was normally well lit at night, but the rain was making it harder for her to see.

Within a few minutes, she was soaked to the skin and saturated hanks of hair kept swinging in her face.

Frustrated but determined, she kept digging until her hands found a plastic bag full of a wiggling, whining dog.

As she ripped at the tied plastic, she realized that someone did this on purpose. They put a dog into a thick plastic bag and dumped the little, helpless creature in the trash.

“Whoever did this should be boiled alive,” she muttered under her breath. Finally the black plastic gave, and she had a warm bundle of fur in her hands. Once free, the dog didn’t try to bite her, only happily squirmed in her arms and tried to lick her face!

The dog had a long body like a dachshund, but without the stubby legs and the wrong color fur.

The light tan color reminded her of a chihuahua.

One ear was sticking straight up and the other flopped down, making the dog appear to have a quizzical expression.

Whatever mix this dog was, it was 100% purebred adorable.

Hugging the dog close to her chest, she sprinted back to her van. She managed to climb in and shut the door just as the headlights of the security car rounded the corner.

She tried to lay still and silent as the car went by, but her new friend wasn’t interested in stillness. The mutt shimmied and licked any exposed skin within reach, forcing her to bite her lip to keep from giggling.

When the headlights disappeared, she sat up and held the dog out in front of her. There was enough light coming in through the windows in the back door of the van for her to give the dog a quick once-over.

“You actually look pretty good,” she murmured, then held the dog up a little higher. “And you’re a girl, so that’s going to help with names. What do you think about B names? Bonnie? Bernice?”

She was cold enough to start shivering. She rambled as she set the dog down, then peeled out of her wet clothes.

“Can you believe it’s raining? I mean, I know it’s still January, so it’s technically winter, but it’s San Diego! I thought they were in a drought because it never rained here!”

She pulled on the cleanest of her dirty clothes, then found her one thick jacket. The dog was mostly dry, first because of the plastic bag and then because Mila shielded her on the run back to the van.

The entire time Mila changed in the tight confines of the van, the mutt was whining and pawing at her.

The moment she sat cross-legged on the makeshift bed and opened her arms, the dog climbed into her lap and snuggled down.

Mila marveled at how trusting the dog was, considering how much trauma she’d suffered at the hands of humans.

“Don’t worry,” she assured the dog. “It’s you and me now. I’ll take care of you.”

But who was going to take care of her?

With that depressing thought, she stretched out on her narrow bed, exhausted.

She’d been living in her van for the last few weeks.

At first, she was sure it was temporary.

It was only a matter of time and persistence until she found another job and got back on her feet.

But it’s hard to apply for a job when you don’t have a home address.

She was either not getting responses from the places she applied, or a thanks but no thanks.

She was struggling to keep her normal optimism.

The small amount of money she managed to salvage from her lying, cheating ex was almost gone.

The week after he ran off with her cash and anything of value from the apartment, she was served with an eviction notice.

The money she’d given Brad for rent hadn’t been getting to the management company for the last three months!

She tried to reason with the company and pay the back rent with her credit cards only to find out that Brad had maxed them all out. Between defaulting on her credit card debt and the apartment, her credit was ruined.

It was a situation bad enough that she’d almost given up.

Almost .

If she asked her parents for money, they’d say, “We’ll pay for a ticket home but nothing else.”

She was too embarrassed to contact her friends back in South Dakota to ask for help. She’d made such a big deal about moving to San Diego. She’d talked endlessly about her online boyfriend Brad. He was going to become a screenwriter, and she was going to open her bakery.

Within six months, Brad was gone, along with her money and jewelry.

The silver lining was the van. Her friend sold it to her cheaply and made sure it was in good working order before handing the keys over.

The thing was ugly but ran well and got her all the way from South Dakota to San Diego.

The cargo area was already set up to transport large items, so when she had got evicted, her van became her new home.

It wasn’t too bad, really. She laid out a bunch of pads and bedding along one side, and her clothes and personal items were stowed in plastic totes along the other side.

When she’d arrived, Brad demanded she sell the van because his car was nicer.

He hated being seen in the “rust-mobile” and would poke fun because her friend's painting services logo was still partially visible even after she’d scraped it off.

Lucky for her, the van was the one demand she’d ignored. It was the single item she still had to her name with any real value.

Looking back, she could see how very na?ve she was. She’d fallen for all of it. All his lines. All his charm. She moved halfway across the country because a cute guy on the internet told her to.

“I’m an idiot,” she mumbled. Her new best friend moved around until she’d snuggled up against Mila’s belly. Now that she was thinking about it, she had a dog, so the van wasn’t the only good thing in her life at the moment. She and this little mutt were going to save each other!

“Oh, I know. I’m going to name you Babette. I always liked that name.”

The dog tried to lick her face so Mila took that as an agreement. “Tomorrow I have another interview. It’s at a donut shop. I’m sure I’ll get the job, so don't worry or anything. After I get it, we’ll go shopping for all the things you need.”

Again, Babette’s response was to aim that long tongue at her chin. Mila knew that was probably because the dog had all the faith in the world in her ability to get a job at a little neighborhood donut shop.

Shivering a little, she reached over for the spare blanket she’d rarely needed since moving west. When she first arrived, there was a heatwave going on and the temperatures routinely rose to well over 100 degrees.

November arrived and showed Mila what passed for winter in Southern California. An occasional rain and temperatures that hadn’t dropped below forty degrees. Her South Dakota friends would laugh at how the Californians reacted to the “cold” weather.

Now that she lived in her van, she was thankful that winters here were so mild. If she tried to live like this in the dead of winter back home, she’d be dead. Here, she only needed to bundle up.

“Tomorrow is going to be the beginning of our good luck,” she murmured to Babette, feeling warm and protected in her van as the rain pelted the roof. “Tomorrow we’re going to turn everything around.”