Drizzled with Death(18)
“A Pomeranian? With ear mites? And you never told me? In all these years you never told me? No wonder I’m still single.”
“I didn’t say ear mites. You said ear mites. I said itchy. Lots of things can cause ears to itch. You should ask the Fish and Game guy. He might know.” Piper placed the hammock on the closed lid of the Dumpster and squeezed in behind the metal bin. She slid in easily with room to spare. It must be the long hardworking hours at the Stack because she eats like a teenage boy and considers exercise to be filling in a sudoku puzzle.
“I’m not asking Graham to check me for ear mites.”
“His name is Graham?”
“That’s right.”
“Like the cracker? I bet he’d be good with chocolate and marshmallows. Like a big cuddly s’more.” Or butter. I loved my graham crackers slathered in butter, and I nibbled them a tiny bite at a time. What was I thinking? Piper needed to stop and I needed to go home and get some sleep. Maybe I was just hungry after all the excitement. The fluttering in my stomach didn’t mean I thought a guy who specialized in insulting the public he was supposed to be serving was at all attractive. No, it certainly did not. I probably wouldn’t even see him ever again, and I could go back to eating graham crackers any which way I liked without feeling naughty about it in the least.
“Exactly like a cracker. What were his parents thinking? Did he have a sister named Saltine?” Not that I was one to judge with a name like mine. Dani got me by but it wasn’t the whole story and it was unlikely Mr. Fish and Game was destined to hear it. No matter how much he looked like the man of my dreams, he was here for a short, busy visit, punctuated by rudeness and aggravation.
“Maybe he has a brother named Animal and we could double date.” Piper nudged me in the ribs with a bony elbow.
“I think you mean single date. I never expressed any interest in the first cracker in the barrel.” I rubbed my side where she had poked me and tried to remember why we were friends. Being called a dog and then being shoved around was not dredging up any positive memories of our friendship.
“You like him, teacup doggie, I know you do. Would you rather have coffee or hot chocolate while we wait for the kangaroo to pick up her dinner?” Now I remembered why we were friends through thick and thin. She may be insulting but her hot chocolate is worth a five-mile trudge on your knees through sleet-covered pucker bush. World peace could be achieved if only someone had the sense to express flasks of the stuff to any warring regions of the world. Heads of state would take one sip, develop a swooning rosy glow of good humor, and commence slapping each other on the back. I’ve seen it work at budget committee meetings. I am certain it is the real reason our teachers have gotten a new contract and the fire department received funding for its new ambulance.
“Do you have to ask?” I followed her inside and waited more or less as patiently as any other grown-up as she slowly and carefully heated a pan of the magical concoction over a low flame on the stove. The smell of it was driving me over the brink by the time she poured us each a mug. We reached the back alley once more just in time to see the outline of something small and furtive dragging away the bowl of salad.
“Grab the net.” Piper dropped her cup in the excitement. I liked to have cried at the waste of hot chocolate but, as I still had a grip on mine, was able to hold off the waterworks. And I wasn’t about to lose it scrambling to put my favorite hammock in harm’s way either. Piper could become an exotic animal wrangler all on her own. I was just here to make sure nothing made off with my friend.
“I think it’s gone,” I said, blowing on my mug. The clattering of the metal bowl against the ground faded away into the other night sounds. Whatever had started dragging off the salad had done so. And the hammock sat safe and unused on the top of the Dumpster. It looked like next summer could proceed much like the past had, swinging and swaying, lost in a book.
“Well, that’s just great. I try to help and end up out one large salad bowl. Now what? I’m not sure I want to lose another one tonight.” Piper stood there, her fists balled up on her slim hips, booted foot tapping impatiently.
“We should head home for tonight. Whatever took that salad will have gotten something to eat and won’t likely be back before early tomorrow. You can send one of the weekend kids out to tromp round the countryside looking for your bowl if you like. For all you know, there won’t be anything for them to do other than chase down salad bowls. Once word gets out that the Stack is popular with wildlife, people may be a bit leery about eating here.”