Petey squatted down next to a tree and did his business, pulling me out of my memories. I made a face.
“Must be nice, having a human pick up your poop.”
He looked at me and seemed almost guilty. I cleaned up the mess and dropped the bag off in a nearby trashcan, and then I looked around. We were a block away from the art museum, and although Petey had already done his nightly duty, I decided we might as well finish my planned walk. I started moving again, with Petey right next to me, his tail wagging, sniffing every random spot he saw.
Sometimes, I imagined the world through a dog’s eyes. There was the regular layer of everything we usually saw—shadows thrown from a flagpole, heavy green grass, granite shimmering slightly in sunlight, the scarlet red of the sunset—but there was also the smell world. Dogs existed in an entirely different place than we did.
I needed to get out more.
We hugged the sidewalk that curved around the art museum and took a left and headed up toward the river. Statues dotted the walk, but I didn’t bother to look at them. I’d read their plaques a hundred times already, at least. Petey wanted to smell them, but it was getting late and I didn’t want to let him pause for too long.
The place was surprisingly abandoned as we made it down toward the old water company. The sunset looked gorgeous reflected off the water, and the grass and bushes blew softly in the breeze. I shivered for some reason, although I wasn’t very cold. Something felt weird about the scene, but I had no clue why. I glanced around, noting how empty it was, as I made my way up to the railing that overlooked the Schuylkill River.
I stopped and leaned against its cool, smooth metal and looked out at the water moving lazily to the south. The buildings across the way looked huge and dark as the sun began to slowly dip below the horizon. Petey sniffed at a particularly interesting spot next to me.
“Found something good?” I asked him, and he wagged his tail.
That’s when I heard it. Down by the river, almost directly below me, there was a loud splash. Surprised, I leaned over the railing, letting it dig into my stomach as I dipped my head downward, my hair spilling all around me.
There, standing in the shadows of some small trees, were two big guys in black sweatshirts. Floating in the water, half submerged, was what looked like a black package, wrapped in plastic and duct tape. It was slowly sinking, and the two men were rolling another package after it.
I had no clue what they were doing. As far as I knew, dumping trash into the river was illegal, but that was probably why they were doing it quickly and quietly. I watched as they stood together, rolling the second package along the dirt and stones, and heaved, tossing it into the water after the first. There was another loud splash, and the first package dipped down below the water, with the second package not far behind it. I heard the one man grunt and say something, but I couldn’t make it out at my distance.
Suddenly, Petey started barking and jerked at the leash. I looked back at him, and he was staring across the lawn at a squirrel, barking like crazy.
“Petey, no,” I said firmly.
“Hey,” I heard someone call out, and I looked back over the rail.
The two men were standing directly below, staring up at me. I stared back, shocked at the expressions on their faces. One man was handsome and gruff with a thick beard, and the other was shorter and heavier, and was wearing a black wool cap. Both of them looked shocked but furious, as if I had walked in on them doing something terrible.
And maybe I had.
“Hey, lady,” one called out to me.
Immediately, I pulled back.
“Shh, Petey!” I said, quieting him down. The squirrel was gone, but Petey was still on high alert.
“Stay there, lady,” I heard the voice call out again.
Why would they need to yell up at me? The whole thing was weird and shady, and I didn’t want any part in it. I had been in plenty of fucked up situations in my past, and I had developed a sixth sense for danger. Without a second thought, I began walking fast, heading back toward the museum. Petey could tell that something was wrong by how fast I was moving, and he whined softly, his tail wagging hard. We began to climb back up the steep hill, angling toward the relative safety of the museum and the more crowded sidewalks. I knew my best bet was to reach light and a crowd, assuming that they wouldn’t do anything insane in front of witnesses. I got to the top of the hill when I heard him call out again.
“Stop, lady!” he yelled.
He appeared at the top of the staircase that led down to the ledge on which they had been standing. His face looked enraged as he began to move toward me.
Fear and adrenaline spiked through my chest, and I began to run. Petey kept up beside me, trotting hard as I jogged fast toward the sidewalk. We hit the pavement hard and I kept my pace up, not slowing down to look back. I jogged down another hill, toward Kelly Drive. Cars whizzed past, their headlights making shadows of the trees. I glanced back as I began to cut right, heading back toward my apartment, and saw the man following me, far back but coming fast.