Tag Archives: short story

The Dog Catcher

The door slammed and her words rang. He sat there on his couch, staring at the cooling, dimming TV. He saw his reflection there. The bulge of his stomach. The stains on his t-shirt. The five day stubble that hurt to shave.

She had left, calling him a loser. Telling him that she had fallen out of love with him. That he had no direction. Nowhere to go. His heart ached. Maybe that was his high choleric diet or maybe it was the heartbreak. Who could say. He hadn’t been to a doctor in years.

He sat there for a long time. He took a deep breath. He thought about getting up and going to his fridge and getting a beer. He thought about ordering a pizza and drowning his sorrows in a night of video games. But the shock to his system was rippling through him. He had lost her because of nights like that. Maybe it was time to change.

He thought about doing some situps or pushups. But his floor was covered in garbage and clothing. He reached an impasse in his life. He could sit and become a fungus on his own catch or he could get up and make a change. He thought about the love that had left his life.

He stood up.

*Years Later*

He sat patiently. He was reading. The day was getting colder. The bowl of dog food was sitting next to him. He had been brining it closer to him every day. Today was the day.

The nose emerged first. The rest of the dog followed. It was a golden retriever and he was in a bad way. His coat was dirty and clogged with barbs and other things. He had been through it. He was someone’s pet, not a wild animal. Above all, he was scared.

The dog came to his side and started eating. When the dog was finished, he licked his chops and looked at him. He held out his hand to the dog and the dog sniffed it. He whined. He went slowly. He put his hand on the dog’s head. He petted him slowly. The dog let out another whine.

“You’ve been through it, haven’t you, girl?” he said. “Think you would like to come home with me?”

The dog let out another long whine.

“Come on,” he said. “My name’s Keith. I think I’ll call you Stella for now. Let’s go.”

He put a harness and leash on Stella. It seemed she wanted to be found by someone. He had developed this kind, slow energy over years of doing his job. He brought the dog to his car and opened the door for her to climb in. He drove a familiar route. He got to the office and helped Stella out. He brought her into the clinic and she was once more fearful. The sounds and smells hitting her all at once. He scratched her behind the ears.

“You’re going to have to be brave,” he said calmly. “C’mon.”

Stella followed him but she was walking quickly. She wanted to be away from this place. He did as she wanted and brought her to a large shower. He leashed her inside and started spraying her with the hose. She started whining once more. He worked the barbs and everything out of her fur. He shampooed and did what he could. He gave her a treat as he dried her off.

“There you go, much better,” he said.

He brought her into a small office and there was a woman there in scrubs and a lab coat. The dog started whining.

“I know, I know,” the woman said. “I’m your nightmare. But I’m here to help. You brought in a beauty, Keith.”

“Yea, this was a pet project I had working on. She was hiding near my house,” he replied.

“Well, let me do my exam and I’ll let you know when she’s done.”

“Thanks, Leslie.”

He went back to his office and did some paperwork. When she messaged him on slack, he got up and walked back to the examination room.

“So, there’s something interesting,” she said.

“What’s that?” Keith asked.

“Look who the owner is.”

A familiar name flashed up on the screen.

“Hunh, that’s funny,” Keith said.

“Turns out her name is Muffins. Do you want to drop her off?” Leslie asked.

“Yeah, I owe her a favor.”

“Really? What?”

“She broke up with me.”

Leslie’s eyes shot up.

“Are you planning to kill her?” Leslie asked.

“What?! No!” Keith replied honestly taken aback.

“Then explain.”

Keith rolled his eyes. He pulled out his phone. He scrolled through an app and while he did so, he absentmindedly pet Muffins. He pulled up a picture and showed it to her.

“That’s what I looked like three years ago when she broke up with me,” Keith said. “The day she did I did the first situp I had done since I got out of high school. I was a fucking loser. Now, I’m in the best shape of my life. I’m happy, I’m healthy and all it took was her stomping my heart. And no, I don’t think we’re going to get back together because I can see that the primary owner is the dude she left me for. So, I want to show my thanks.”

“And possibly find out if the guy she’s dating is a scumbag?” Leslie said.

“Yes… but I’m not hoping for that.”

“I believe you.”

He put a collar and leash on Muffins.

“You should call first,” Leslie said.

“Eh, it’ll be fine,” Keith said. “C’mon girl, let’s go home.”

The drive was long and much happier than the one before. Muffins seemed much happier to be clean and unburdened by dirt. As he followed his GPS, Keith wondered when Muffins would realize she was getting close to home. They passed by a coffee shop and Muffins started whining and barking. He smiled to himself. They turned onto her street and he could see her tail whipping back and forth.

He pulled up in front of a nice little ranch house and she was going nuts. She was trying to get out through the window. He opened the door and came around to where he let her out. She was pulling hard on the leash. He could see how she had gotten away from her owner.

Maybe it was some off hand glance through the window. Some happenstance but the owner had seen his dog coming up the walk being pulled by a handsome animal control worker. He threw the door open and Keith let the leash go. Muffins ran to her father. The man hugged his dog who was licking at his face. He was crying hard enough to shake his body. Keith watched with his back against the door to his car.

There was paperwork to fill out but that could wait. Sometimes the job was heartbreaking when he had to witness the cruelty and sadness for creatures that didn’t understand. Today though, today it felt good.

“Keith?” a voice behind him said.

He turned around and he saw Viv, his ex coming up the street. She had been coming home from a run seemingly. He smiled at her.

“Hey,” he said raising his hand to her.

She was confused looking at him. She looked from him to her front door and saw her dog and boyfriend reunited. She let out a cry, having immediately forgotten about her ex and happy to see her baby. The dog jumped at her. Happy to see her.

Keith watched them for a while before getting his paperwork and clipboard and approaching them. The man stood up and reached out his hand to Keith.

“Thank you, god bless you,” the man said. “Who found her?”

“I did,” Keith said. “She was hiding in a bush near my house. I saw her going through the garbage and followed her to her hiding place. I’ve been trying to get her to trust me for the last week.”

“She ran off on me while we were on a walk,” Viv said.

“She’s very strong.”

“Yeah, is that paperwork to fill out?” the man asked.

“Yeah, I figured you’re her owner, Bruce, based on what we got but I just need to make it official. Can I see your ID?”

“Yea, let me just run in and get it.”

He left the two alone and Muffins ran into the house with him. Keith smiled into the awkward silence between them.

“You look good,” Viv said.

“Thanks,” Keith said. “So do you.”

“What happened?”

“Don’t take it the wrong way, you broke up with me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“That’s the wrong way the apology should go. I made you miserable for years. You were so patient with me. I was blind and such an asshole.”

“You were.”

“So, yeah, I’m sorry. You deserved better and looks like you found it.”

“He’s great.”

“His dog loves him. That’s enough to tell me what kind of person he is. Are you happy?”

“I’m so happy.”

“Good.”

He smiled contentedly. Bruce came walking up and handed off his license to Keith. Keith took down the information.

“There we go,” Keith said. “Glad to help.”

“Am I allowed to give you like a tip or anything like that?” Bruce asked.

“It’s frowned upon.”

“By the way, you two seem to know each other.”

“We’re just old friends, my name’s Keith.”

“Oh… wait, that Keith?”

Keith let out a laugh.

“Yeah, I’m the ex,” Keith said.

“You’re not what I was expecting,” Bruce said.

“I’m sure every story you heard about me was true. I spent the last three years trying to be less of a waste of space. That’s how I got this job!”

“Are you happy?” Viv asked.

“Very much so,” Keith replied with a warm smile.

“Are you seeing anyone?” Bruce asked.

“Think I’m trying to steal her back?”

“Nah, I have a friend whose single. Maybe I could give her your number?”

“Which friend?” Viv said.

“Tanya,” Bruce replied.

“You are not inflicting Tanya on him.”

“I’m just saying…”

Keith held up his hand.

“I’m good,” Keith said. “I’m happy.”

He took the two in for a moment.

“And I’m happy that you two are happy as well,” Keith said. “I have to get back to it. You two have a good one.”

He gave them a brief nod and when he saw Muffins wagging through the glass door, he gave her a two fingered salute. He climbed back into his car and drove off.

Leslie noticed him humming throughout the rest of the day. She didn’t ask. Didn’t want to make him question his happiness.

A week or so later, he got a text from Viv. It was asking if he would want to go out with them for a drink. He smiled at his phone. He started texting back.

Random Word Generator Storytime: Reduction

(I learned this from Paul Robalino on the behind the scenes of Game Changer on Dropout.TV. He talks about using a random word generator and then writing from that word. This time we’re shrinking things with the word: Reduction).

Patricia looked at herself in the mirror. She was a pretty woman with a round face and full cheeks but most of the people that she dated didn’t focus on her face. They focused on what was going on below her neck.

Her breasts had started growing when she was fifteen and hadn’t stopped until they were so far down the alphabet that it made her uncomfortable. Her back ached daily and nearly nothing fit. She sighed as she stuffed herself into her bra. The ugly thing that she had bought because it was too expensive to get nice things in her size.

She thought again about getting a breast reduction. She had thought about this and brought it up with other boyfriends she had and they had all thrown tantrums about it. One of them had told her it was like slicing up the Mona Lisa. That if he she did it he would break up with her. She saved him the trouble and broke up with him.

She had the money for it that wasn’t the problem. She was dating a guy now and she saw a future with him. She wondered if he would stick around if she were to do this thing. Then she kicked herself for taking his opinion into account. Who cares what he thought. On a whim, she thought about calling him and asking him. Might as well get it over with and find out what he would say. If he was against it, she would be able to not waste her time anymore.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, sweetums, what’s up?” he answered.

“Nothing, Joshy, I just had a question about something.”

“Hit me with it.”

“I’m thinking about getting a breast reduction.”

“Okay, cool. Just let me know when you’re thinking about it and I’ll take the time off, okay? I want to make sure I’m around to take care of you while you recover.”

Patricia was taken aback. Not in a bad way but more surprised.

“That’s it?”

“Uh, I guess is there something else you want me to do? Do you want me to come with you to the consultation?”

“No, I… you don’t have any objections to it?”

There was a long pause on the other end. She wondered if he was thinking about it for the first time.

“Why would I get a say in what you do to your body?” he asked.

“I mean, I was worried that this might make you less attracted to me,” she said.

“Honey, I love you, I don’t love a pair of tits. If I did I’d buy a pair at the Pleasure Shack and play with those. Probably save me a lot of money and having to smell your taco farts when we get Taco Bell and pass out on the couch.”

She snorted laughter at that.

“Besides,” he continued. “I know how they irk you. I care more about your comfort than some boobs.”

“Hm, I love you, honey,” she said.

“I love you too, give them a call and we can sort it out.”

“Am I going to see you later?”

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

She hung up and googled the name of a plastic surgeon. She held the phone to her ear while it rang.

“I’m going to marry that man,” she said.

“Hello, Dr. Patel’s office,” a voice said on the other end. “How can I help you?”

“Hi, my name is Patricia Allman, I’d like to make an appointment for a consultation.”

Random Word Generator Story Time: Dive

(I learned this from Paul Robalino on the behind the scenes of Game Changer. He talks about using a random word generator and then writing from that word. The word I got was dive and I’m going to write the first thing that comes into my mind.)

Every step terrifies me. Maybe I wouldn’t be so scared is if around the pool it wasn’t hard concrete but instead like a padded floor. I think that it would still hurt to land on that but it wouldn’t be as bad.

I’m at the pool at my school and I’ve been staring at this thing since I was a freshman. I’m about to graduate and I need to jump off of it. I don’t know why I have to face this fear. Maybe it’s something about a mental block to starting the rest of my life. I have to close one chapter and start on another.

I get to the top of it. It takes me a while to lift my leg up and get onto it. I feel myself slip a little bit. I grab harder to make sure that I don’t fall. I get onto the diving board. I finally see over and I freeze. I’m so high up. How does this high dive exist inside a gym? This is insane. I think I see some people standing by the edge of the pool before I scramble to the ladder. I don’t go down it, I just hang onto it for dear life. I don’t know how to get back onto it. There’s another way down but there’s no way in hell I’m taking that way. I guess I’ll just have to wait for a hunky fireman to come by and grab me.

I think I hear people calling for me. I think I saw people when I looked over the edge of the diving board. I didn’t get a long enough look to know who they were. I hear someone shout “no running” and that’s it.

I look at the ladder again and soon a face appears there. It’s Molly Anderson. Dark chestnut hair, fine features and blue eyes. Of course she’s the one to find me cowering up here. She’s always such an asshole. She’s made fun of me since we got to high school. Maybe I wanted to do this to prove that I was as good as her. Not that I’d ever admit that to her. Not even now.

She looks like she’s worried. It’s probably a trick.

“Hey, are you okay?” Molly asks softly.

“Doing great,” I say.

“You look like you’re scared.”

“Why don’t I save us some time and say that I am and you can start making fun of me.”

“Not up here. If you’re scared, I want you to get down safely. I only make fun of people on firm ground.”

“Why do you make fun of people all the time?”

“You make fun of me too!”

“Because you make fun of me!”

“Who made fun of who first?”

“You did!”

“You did!”

Now that we’re talking about this, I honestly can’t remember when I started to hate her. Here at the end of my life, I’m starting to think about how I actually enjoy our verbal sparring. Oh shit, she’s starting to talk again.

“The fact of the matter is that I was right where you were the first time I came up here,” Molly says. “My first meet, I saw a girl fall off the high dive and get hurt. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

“Thanks for letting me know that. Good glimpse into my future,” I respond.

“That’s not going to happen as long as I can help it. Do you want me to help you down? I can come up there or stay down here and get you on the ladder. I won’t play any tricks on you or do anything. I just want to make sure you’re safe. You can trust me.”

I do trust her. I remember there was one night when her and her friends found my best friend, Stacy, crying after her dipshit ex broke up with her. He had made fun of her and bragged about cheating. Molly had taken care of her because I was out of town. She told me that she had been a bit drunk and they had made sure she got home safe. They had listened to and comforted her. She wasn’t that big an asshole now that I thought about it.

“Why are you up here?” Molly asks.

“I was scared to do this and I wanted to prove it to myself that I could do it,” I reply.

“Okay, do you want me to talk you through it? Let’s start easy. Take a few deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

I do as she instructs. I do find myself calming down. My heart stops beating in my ears.

“Good, you’re already looking calmer. Now, put your feet on the diving board. Slowly. Feel it under your feet. Don’t let go of the railing. Take your time with it under your feet.”

I do as she instructs me. I twist my legs so that I can feel the rough plastic under my feet. I decide to skip to the next step. I stand up.

“There you go,” Molly says. “Can you turn towards the edge?”

“Yeah,” I say.

I turn my body so that I’m facing the edge. My fear is waiting to swallow me up.

“Okay, if you’re going to jump, the best way to do it is with your arms at your sides and feet pointed down. Don’t try and dive, just take a big step off and think about how the water is going to swallow you up,” Molly says. “You’ll hit the water and swim back up.”

“I’m trying my best but I’m not quite there,” I tell her.

“Girls!” Molly shouts. “Give, Jackie some motivation!”

I hear the girls below me start to cheer and call my name. I feel the fear start to dissipate. Eventually, fuck it.

I walk the short distance and then what’s below me just disappears. I snap my legs and arms together. I have enough time to think, “Shouldn’t I have hit the water by now?” and then I hit the water. I slam into the luke warm water and feel my heart jump for joy. I did it. I survived. I swim to the surface. My head breaks out and I look around.

I hear someone yelling above me and Molly slams into the water. She swims towards me with a smile on her face. She hugs me.

“You did it!” she says.

“Holy shit, my feet hurt,” I say.

“Yeah, that happens.”

The other girls jump into the pool. They swarm me and tell me that they’re proud of me too. A firm voice suddenly calls out.

“Hey girls, what’s going on?” the voice belonging to Coach Taylor says.

“Sorry, coach,” I say.

“We do have to practice, Jackie. Could you give us the pool?”

“Sure, sorry.”

I climb out of the pool vowing to come back later. The girls climb up on their blocks. Molly stops me as I start heading for the locker room.

“Hey, you did really good,” Molly says.

“Thanks for helping me through that,” I tell her.

“No worry.”

“You know maybe you’re not such an asshole.”

“I thought the same thing about you.”

“See you around.”

“Yeah, see ya.”

Tomorrow we might be at it again. But maybe we both don’t have to go so hard.

Monologue as I am Eaten by a Tiger

“Well, buddy, I had a good run. God, you’re beautiful. I don’t know if you’re male or female. But I hope female. I hope I’m feeding another generation of you majestic creatures. You know I had hopes and dreams. But sometimes they don’t work out. Sometimes, only one dream works out. This is that dream. God, I’m glad I’m not getting eaten by something lame like a human. You’re a dream of muscle and grace. Yet, you still maintain your cuteness. I would snuggle the fuck out of you if I hadn’t broken my leg trying to run from you. What a fruitless gesture. I’m not even sick or weak like your other prey. I was in fine health. You’re just my better. That’s it bat me around if you want to. I don’t care. This might hurt but I will be part of you. I will nourish a creature that is my better. Well, I’ve come to rest here in this jungle. You’re opening your mouth now. It’s been an honor.”

Chomp.

Our Perfect Gentlemen

(This is a preview of one of the stories that’s going to be in my collection of horror stories entitled A Heartbeat in the Darkness.)

It was an unfortunate thing that most people were happy about the missing child posters.  Though they would never say such a thing to the distraught parents.  They would place their hands on their arms and say it was such a tragedy and they were in their thoughts.  Meanwhile saying good riddance behind their backs at various social functions.  The one bit of sorrow was that their older daughter still wandered the streets putting up the signs.  A hopeless endeavor.  It made them sad because she was a good girl, so different than her brother.  People liked her.  Maybe if they had liked him a little bit more.  He wouldn’t have turned out this way.  

Or maybe he just needed a firmer hand than his parents had been willing to use.  At least that’s what the Pince sisters thought.  Two older women who had relaxed into a life of retirement with a nice little nest egg.  He was their current house guest.  Wasn’t he just so fine now, sitting in their living room across from them.  Serving them tea.  His smile so much better than that nasty look he had on his face at all times before.  Constantly frowning, constantly smirking and giving people the finger.  What a naughty little boy he had been.  

They had fixed it.  It had taken quite a bit of work but they had fixed it.  Just like that they had so many times in the past.  They had this down to a perfect science.  He would be their house guest for as long as they could keep him.  Not that anyone ever left by choice.

Night came and so the two sisters retired up to bed.  Leaving him downstairs by himself.  One of them gave a quick flick to the machinery on the wall.  It spun and the resulting slackening was near instantaneous.  

The young man’s arms fell to his sides, his mouth finally fell away from the rictus smile that it had been forced into throughout the day.  It was hard to decide which was the worse pain.  The ones in his arms, mouth or in his cut achilles tendons.  The rings that had been sewn into his skin and then laced with fine piano wires ached.  He was made uncomfortable by the IVs that fed him as there was no longer any use for his super glued together teeth.  

He sat like a doll that had been left in the corner.  His body limp and useless.  There was no escape.  No way to get out of here.  He remembered the day that he had broken in here.  Looking for something of value to steal and sell.  How he hadn’t heard the one sister behind him before she struck him with the encyclopedia.  Knocking him unconscious.  Where had she gotten that strength?  

He had woken up this way.  Covered in the rings.  His jaw clamped together.  They had kept him like a toy ever since.  That had been months ago.  He assumed that they had killed their husbands.  Were living off the life insurance policies.  How else could they have afforded this?  

He slept fitfully this night and every night.  His body wrapped up in its various pains and discomforts.  The next morning, he rose with the sun in his eyes.  But the women weren’t there.  He couldn’t hear them.  The day passed.  The IVs ran dry.  Still no sign of them.  There hadn’t been a day when they hadn’t come down to torture him and play out their sick fantasy so what had happened?  

Night came again.  He wondered if this was some trick.  If they were going to come back and hurt him in some way.  He sat.  A second day and night passed.  No sign of them.  By the third morning, he figured that they had died in their sleep two days ago.  Good riddance, you god damn monsters, he thought.  He knew he had to go now.  He knew there was only way to exit.  

He bent his body forward and began to pull.  

A Moment in the Lives of Two Early Risers

The sound of her leather jacket was soothing. She had done her makeup the night before and put her hair into a bun on top of her head. Wrapping it with a bandana. There was the crunch of gravel underneath her feet as she walked into the convenience store.

There was an old man standing behind the counter. He was reading a paperback novel. There was music playing on the overhead speakers. Given that it was morning, she bought a small sleeve of donuts. He had a pot of coffee going and she poured herself a cup. Adding her sugar and cream, she approached the counter.

“Morning,” he said setting down his novel.

“Good morning,” she said.

He looked at Julia. She was young, somewhere in her early twenties. She had bright red lipstick and her skin was pale. She wore a buttoned down dark blue shirt with white polka dots tied at the waist. Black boots and black leggings.

She glanced at him. He had a Santa quality about him. Was probably a grandpa. He wore a black Motley Crue T-shirt and jeans. He had tiny reading glasses perched on the edge of his nose.

He glanced at the clock. It was five in the morning.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what’re you doing up so early, dressed so fine?” he asked.

“Couldn’t sleep,” Julia said. “Thought I would take my bike out for a ride. Go see the sun rise.”

“That sounds like a helluva morning,” the old man said.

“I noticed your sign has different hours. You shouldn’t be open this early.”

“Couldn’t sleep so I figured I could make some money to early risers like yourself.”

“That’s fair.”

“Where are you heading to see the sunrise?”

“West Quoddy Head lighthouse. I’m racing the sun.”

“Funny, isn’t it? The most eastern point in America is called West Quoddy. Interesting.”

She held out a twenty.

“Keep it,” he said. “You have a good ride. Wish I was your age again. Sounds like you’re having fun.”

“I am and I don’t want to short a small business, especially one run by such a gentleman,” Julia said.

“Fair enough.”

He took the cash and gave her her change. She offered her hand and the took shook. She walked out of the store and threw her leg over her bike. She started it up, revved the engine and took off down the road.

The road to the lighthouse needed people to be wide awake. The coffee was a boon to her. She got to the lighthouse and parked her bike in the parking lot. She climbed the small hill and waited.

There were others there with her. They were doing the same. Waiting for the sun. Waiting for a new day full of promise.

She thought about the breakup that she had gone through recently. How for so long, she had felt wrong and foolish for breaking up with him. He had done such a good job putting her down. Trying to dampen her light. Now though, as the sun rose turning the sky pink. The feel of the sea on her face, she felt alive again. Light and beautiful. She raised her cup to the sun and hoped that the old man at the convenience store had a good day as well.

The next day was rainy and cloudy. The day after promised clear skies.

Because of this, an older gentleman, white of beard and aching in his bones rolled a motorcycle out of his garage. An older but slightly younger woman, not used to being awake at this time of day but happy that her husband was happy, came walking out of the house securing a helmet over her hair.

“Let’s go, mama,” he said.

They drove into the coming dawn. They saw the sunrise. They hit the road again. They saw where the day could take them.

The Yorky Beyond Space-Time

Throughout the years from friends and family members I’ve been introduced as Rick’s oldest friend.  We both know that’s untrue.  It’s always been him and his dog.  Through our childhoods and eventually through the decades.  We don’t know where the dog came from, it’s always been there and undyingly loyal.

The first recorded evidence we have of the dog is a picture of Rick as a baby.  It’s licking his face and he’s laughing in the baby carrier on the floor.  He’s in the background of the shot, the main focus being on his parents.  It’s a bit of a mystery in his family because no one owned the dog, had seen it come in, seen it with Rick or had any idea about where it came from.  It was a more corporeal form of those shadows and strange lights on pictures that people assume are ghosts.  Eventually, the photograph was just another point in time and the mystery a far forgotten detail like what room it was taken in or the time.

The first time I met the dog was when we were in his room playing video games.  It appeared on the bed behind us and barked to let us know it was here.  I jumped having been heavily involved in winning against Rick.  

“Hang on,” Rick said.

He went into his closet and got out a bowl and some dog kibble.  He poured it into the bowl and the dog hungrily ate it. When he was done, he filled the bowl with water from the bathroom.  The dog lapped it up then barked at him until he picked up the dog and pet him.  

“Where did that dog come from?” I asked him.

“He just comes around every now and then, the last time I saw him, he was under my table looking for food,” Rick said.  “Want to pet him?”

“Yeah, but where did he come from?”

“I don’t know, he just kind of shows up.”

“Out of what?  Nowhere?”

“I guess.  I never really thought about it.”

“How long has this been going on for?”

“I don’t know, like my whole life?”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“I thought you would think I’m weird.”

“Dude, just no, don’t worry about it.  But this is freaking me out.”

The dog leapt off his lap after this and then turned to look at us.  I remember it’s brown/gray coat and wagging tail.  It was one of those small long haired dogs.  A terrier or a yorky.  We didn’t find out until years later.  I still can’t remember the answer.  But I’ll never forget how it barked and then disappeared into the nothingness from whence it came. 

“What the hell?” I yelled again.

“Dude, calm down,” Rick said.

“A dog just appeared and disappeared in front of my eyes.  Why should I calm down?”

“Look, the dog’s doing his own thing, his timeline intersects with mine at random intervals and that’s about it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I figured that if this was going to keep happening I should read up on theories about time and space.  Y’know cause this is super interesting!”

“Get to the point now!”

“Okay, so for us time moves in a straight line.  From point A of our births to point B, our deaths and we can’t really get out of it.  This dog though exists outside of all that.  He keeps coming in and out of my life, kind of like his time line is more of a squiggle like a bunch of hills.”

“You say that this is all perfectly normal!”

“For me, it is.”

“Do your parents know?”

“No, they’ve seen the dog around and seen me interact with it but they’ve always figured it was someone else’s or a stray.”
“I guess it is kind of a stray, I mean, it’s not like it belongs to anyone.”

“It belongs to me.  It’s my dog.”

“Does it have a name?”

“A name?  No, I was never around it long enough to think of one.”

“You’ve had fifteen years of interaction with this dog and never gave it a name?  You’re a shitty owner.”

“Fine, then how about Spot?”

“That dog didn’t have spots.”

“Rover?”

“Be more creative.”

“Dogthulu?”

“That thing is definitely not a Dogthulu.”

“Ice Cream Sandwich?”

“Let’s go with that.  That’s a good name.  You know what you should do?  Next time you see it, put a collar on it.  Then we could see if you’re also encountering that dog in a linear fashion.”

“That’s a good idea!”

“I think my brain is coming down from the shock.  Let’s play some more and you can tell me about when and where this dog has appeared.”

Rick seemed relieved.  I wasn’t but what mattered was that he was.  I listened as he listed encounter after encounter with the dog.  When he was picked on by Jason in the fifth grade, the dog found him crying and licked his scratched knee then stayed with him until he stopped.  Playing fetch after school waiting for his mom.  Just randomly appearing and him trying to find food for it.  I noticed a pattern that maybe he didn’t, that the dog appeared when he was alone or hurt.  Maybe the dog had a kind of intelligence to it.  

I was Rick’s friend through and through.  You don’t find a guy like him all that often.  Someone who will have your back through everything.  So, I didn’t go running to the hills when this dog started appearing while I was there.  It did make me curious that it would reveal itself so openly to me.  Maybe it trusted me?  The idea that it was smart enough to have the capability to selectively trust was growing inside of me.

The next time we saw it was in the movies.  It appeared on Rick’s lap and barked.  Someone shushed us probably thinking that we were a pair of smart aleck teenagers, which honestly we were.  Rick was prepared though he quickly put a collar on the dog that he had been carrying around since I told him about it.  The dog seemed appreciative and licked his face.  We didn’t see the person to our right get up and leave.  We did notice when the usher came to talk to us about the dog that wasn’t there anymore.  It was a close call that made us laugh uncontrollably.

The collar was a revelation in Rick and the dog’s relationship.  The relationship had actually expanded to Rick’s future and past selves as well.  Notes were tucked into the dog’s collar and they were seemingly unharmed in whatever dimension or what have you the dog traveled through to get back to Rick.  They ranged from advice written in pen or typed on a computer to little notes from his past selves saying hi written in crayon.  Rick got a bloody nose for about four hours after we put the collar on.  He told me that new memories were appearing in his head.  I stayed with him, wondering if I had somehow altered my friend’s past and he was going to die or the world would crack in two.  We took it as a lesson that we shouldn’t be meddling too much.  Things worked out as you can tell, the world kept spinning and time seemed more or less stable.  

It wasn’t all fun, there were things that worried us, like the day the dog came running to us.  It’s fur singed and it’s little heart beating and it wimpering.  Rick took it to the vet and she said that the dog seemed to have come from a fire.  That there was soot to be vacuumed out of its lungs.  Rick listened to this news looking grim.  The dog would be fine though, it was soon back to normal.  Jumping around and licking his face. Rick seemed happy about this but it left me with a cold chill down my back.  Wondering if the dog had run from my best friend’s death by fire to come back to him in the past.  I didn’t want to talk to Rick about it though. In retrospect I realize that I may have done more harm than good.

The years went on, the dog appeared and disappeared at varying intervals and for different periods of time.  At certain points we would have to hide him for days or weeks.  We began to wonder how old the dog was.  We figured the dog to be about three or so.  

Eventually, the dog appeared with a leash attached to the collar that had a note tucked into it.  The note read simply: Take him for a walk in the park.  I know you have time.  It was signed by him from some years in the future.  

Rick later told me that the day was so nice that he couldn’t help but want to.  They walked through the park slowly, Rick wondering why his future self had sent him there.  He was distracted by wondering if he should go faster or slower.  Then according to him the most beautiful woman he had ever met approached him, attracted to Ice Cream Sandwich who was excited to meet her.  They chatted for a long time.  They had their first date later that night.  

Seeing Catherine and Rick together made me happier than anything I had experienced up to that point.  It was the same for him when I met Terry.  Rick was engaged first with me following shortly after.  Ice Cream Sandwich made an appearance at both weddings wearing a bow tie that Rick’s future self had assumedly put on.  It made me wonder if he ever figured out a way to tell when the dog was going to show up in his own past.  The girls were surprised and at first disbelieving when we told them what was going on with Ice Cream Sandwich until he disappeared in front of them.  They were believers after that.  It was the first time we had ever let anyone in on our secret.  We had been perhaps overly solemn when asking them to talk leading Catherine to believe that Rick was going to tell her that the him and I running away together.  A real possibility for many of those that met us.  They were fine with the dog for the most part and they never told another soul.   

Catherine wanted a cat and with much wheedling eventually got Rick to say okay.  They got a little black cat that was sweet to everyone.  When Ice Cream Sandwich showed up nex, we found out the cat seemed to have some kind of sixth sense towards the dog.  She began to hiss and puff out her hair.  The dog appeared and she went after it.  Catherine grabbed the cat and Rick chased the dog.  When they had their respective pets there was a great more hissing and barking.  The downstairs neighbors began pounding on the ceiling with a broom.  The cat never got used to the dog.  But it did become our warning sign.  

It was a good life.  The years piled on in happy succession.  Terry and I loved and fought, we bought a house, talked about kids, decided against and then decided that we were ready.  Jim was born when I was thirty-three.  Ice Cream Sandwich showed up at the hospital when Rick came to visit.  A new theory popped into my head wondering if a future Rick was instead sending the dog where he showed up.  

The dog would make another appearance at the hospital when Catherine got cancer.  Those became the only times that the dog appeared without Rick present.  She would be at home, sobbing, the cat ignoring her and the yorky would appear.  He’d nuzzle her and she’d hold him and cry.  My theory began to seem more plausible though I began to wonder if the dog just knew somehow.  

She died on a Sunday.  I remember Rick calling me, sobbing, Terry and I rushed over there after dropping off Jim with my mother.  Jim left with the ambulance.  We fed the cat and went home.  

That Wednesday we had her service.  She had asked to be cremated and had her ashes let out over the ocean.  Rick asked to be alone when it was done.  We walked away, clad in our black clothes.  I remember looking over my shoulder at him.  He was standing on that cliff, silhouetted against the setting sun.  I remember seeing something moving and then the dog was by his side.  He didn’t reach down to pet it.  He just continued to stare out over the ocean.  The dog seemed content to just be there with him.  

Rick fell into depression.  I would come by and his house would be covered in bottles at times.  He would start projects and not finish them.  My wife did her best to make sure he got some food in him.  After a while, we stopped hearing from him.  We would go over and pound on his door whenever his car was in the driveway.  He would either be too drunk to answer or just not come to the door.  Jim was older then, he couldn’t understand why Rick wasn’t around.  I told him that Rick was going through a rough time and he needed some time alone.

A year passed in this way.  We hadn’t heard from Rick in three months.  Finally, I got a call from him.  He asked if I could come over by myself.  We were in the middle of dinner and my wife just mouthed the word “go” to me and I was on my way.  I drove faster than the law advised, I was almost stopped twice but pressed on.  My friend needed me, it would have been worth the ticket. 

When I got there, the house was clean, no bottles anywhere and Rick was dressed in his best suit.  The cat was lounging on the couch, uninterested in us.  He was standing and waiting for me when I got through the door.  He was thin, dirty looking, haggard and bearded.  His eyes were red and I wondered when the last time he had slept or ate was.  What day?  What week?    

“Hey, man, long time no see,” he said.

“Yeah, how you been?” I replied.

“Been not so great.”

“Here, why don’t we sit down and talk about it.”

“We talked a bunch about it already.”

“Yeah, but we can always talk some more.”

“No, I just wanted to bring you over here to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?  What do you mean?”

Rick took a deep breath and let it out.  

“I can’t be here anymore.  Everything hurts too much.  I can’t be without Catherine,” he said.

“So, what you’re planning on killing yourself?” I asked him. 

The cat started to hiss and that’s when Ice Cream Sandwich appeared.  I looked at the dog who sat dutifully next to Rick.

“Take care of the cat and put everything in order if you could, please,” Rick said.  “You’re listed as my beneficiary.”

“Rick, c’mon man, you’re talking crazy.”

“I got to go.”

Before I could do anything, Rick picked up the dog.  Then they were gone.  I shouted at the moment of his disappearance but it just rang through the empty house.  I slumped to the ground.  My best friend was gone.  I sat for a long time on his couch staring at the walls.  Upon further inspection, he had left something akin to a suicide note relieving me of responsibility in his disappearance.  I hoped that it would be good enough for the police.  

I picked up the cat and found his carrier.  I closed down the house, turning off the lights and locking it up.  I climbed into my car and left his house for the last time.  I knew I would only be inside it again to sell it.  When I got home I told Terry what happened, the cat running around its new home and freaking out.  

“It makes sense doesn’t it?” she asked.  “How would I go on without you?”

I thought about that possibility, one that I refused to acknowledge at the back edges of my mind.  It twisted my stomach, a knot of despair and pain.  I didn’t have an easy way out now that Jim was here.  I’d die for her but I wouldn’t live for anyone else but him.  I held Terry for a long time.  When I let her go we went to bed.  The cat had found its way to Jim’s bed and had curled up with him.  They were best friends from that night on.  

I lay for a long time thinking about Rick and the dog.  My theory on whether or not it had been sent back by Rick to all those lonely moments in his life.  To ease his pain and share his joy.  Maybe it returned to him in some distant and unknown future.  Now the two of them relying on one another for emotional support.  A man’s best friend.

But there in the darkness, alone with my terrible thoughts I began to think about a new possibility.  That the sadness and pain had snapped Rick’s spirit in two and he had fallen to never rise again.  The dog licking at his face and nudging him with his nose to make him wake up.  Then disappearing into time and space to be reunited with his friend.  Perpetually running from the fate it knew to be coming.  Trying to be the kind of dog that his master would want to stay with.  Trying to get him to hold on.    

I fell asleep with these thoughts in my head.  Pressing my hand against my wife’s stomach.  Reassuring myself that she was still there.  

I’m older now and things have continued in much of the same vein.  A happy life interspersed with moments of terrible sadness and others of anger that we work our way through.  Terry and I are still together for what it’s worth.  I believe I make her happy and she does the same for me.  

Our son is becoming a man and a damn fine one if I do say so myself.  He gets into trouble at school sometimes but for all the right reasons.  He fights to solve a lot of his problems but those problems most of the time are kids picking on other kids.  He has a girlfriend who we like but are fearful that she’ll get into a family way but I believe that’s a normal parental concern.  I’ve told him about his uncle Rick.  About everything because I trust and love him.  He thought I was crazy until his mother confirmed what I was saying.  Then he just thought the both of us were crazy.  

We’re done camping now.  The three of us.  We’re walking back to the car and the sun’s setting.  I’m putting something in the car and not looking at it when I hear my son.

“Dad, do you know that guy?” he asks me.

I look up and see a man silhouetted again by the sun.  A black shape on orange.  He’s waving at me. I want to go to him.  I want to talk to him. But I fear the consequences and I stay still.  I see a small dog running up to him.  It yaps excitedly at his feet.  I see the man pick it up.  But he doesn’t disappear.  He simply walks away from us towards the sun.  

I feel the tears hit my shirt before I know that I’m crying.  My wife moves to my side and holds me.  She wants to be close to me because she thinks I’m sad but the smile on my face is bigger than any I’ve had there in a long time.  My son comes to my side as well and a put on hand on his shoulder.  

I think about best friends.  I think about a man.  I think about a dog.  I think about a love that is so strong that it transcends everything to come back to you.  I think about love that can’t be conquered by time, distance or death.  I think about what a wonderful life I have lived.  I live.  I will always live.  

Angel

When I was growing up there was a girl that lived down the street.  We met in the usual way, our parents holding our hands talking to one another while we stared bug-eyed and apprehensive, slightly obscured by their hips.  The exact memories of those early days have left me but I still remember the feelings.  Warmth and kindness beyond measure.  Secrets that I was sworn to keep but were forgotten as the days turned to months and eventually years.  I never told anyone.  

As we became teenagers, she became a handsome young woman.  Hard for me to define her looks as such because they never mattered much to me.  I never thought of her in that manner.  We loved one another deeply but we weren’t in love because that one seemed too flimsy and easily broken.  A passing fancy at best, a distraction from our dull daily routines at worst.

What stood out most to me about her was her kindness and that despite the fact that I had been there through every moment of her life, there was something I never knew about her.  Something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.  I couldn’t put a word to it at no matter how many hours we spent together.  No one else noticed it.  They loved her just the same as I did.  She never had a bad word for anyone and was always helpful.  

I remember asking her how she did it.  She laughed and said she just did.  I asked her if she was an angel.  She laughed again, a sound akin to Christmas bells and asked “Well then where are my wings?” 

It would be a year later when she left with her family.  I never saw her again and though I acquitted myself admirably at our parting, I still feel like there’s more that needs to be said.  I still turn to her sometimes.  It might be easier if I could hate her for the emptiness in my heart but I can’t.  

It’s my twenty-first birthday today and seven long white feathers have arrived in the mail for me.