It’s not only wrong, it’s illegal.
If Dad ever found out that a son of his had kicked apart someone else’s sign in order to make himself a club in order to beat the crap out of a stray dog ...
“What’re you doing?” Rusty asked.
“Nothing.”
“Want help?” he asked.
A laugh flew out of Slim, but then she groaned.
“You okay?” I asked her.
“Been better.” She grimaced slightly, then added, “Been worse, too.”
“Do you have any fond feelings for the dog?” I asked.
“You kidding?”
I shrugged. “I mean, you’re sort of an animal lover.”
“That has its limits,” she said.
“So ... you won’t be upset if something bad happens to this dog?”
“Like what?” she asked.
“Like something really bad?”
Looking me steadily in the eyes, she said, “I don’t think so.
As I, nodded, I saw Rusty giving me this very weird look. His eyebrows were rumpled in a frown, but his eyes looked frantic and his mouth seemed to be smiling.
“What?” I asked him.
“What’re you gonna do?”
I shrugged, then walked over to where the sign ended. Down below, the dog watched me and followed. When I stopped, it stopped.
“Get outa here!” I shouted at it.
It barked and leaped, slammed the wall and tried to scurry up. Then it dropped. As it landed on its side in the dust in front of the shack, I jumped.
My plan was to land on the dog with both feet.
Cave it in.
On my way down, I heard it make a quick, alarmed whine as if it knew what was coming.
I braced myself for the feel of my sneakers smashing through its ribcage—and maybe for the sound of a wet splot! as its guts erupted.
But it had just enough time to scoot out of my way.
Almost.
Instead of busting through the dog, one of my feet pounded nothing but ground and the other stomped the end of its tail.
The dog howled.
I stumbled forward and almost fell, but managed to stay on my feet. As I regained my balance, I glanced back. The dog was racing off, howling and yelping, butt low, tail curled between its hind legs as if to hide from more harm.
Rusty, at the edge of the roof, called down, “Got a piece of him!”
The dog sat down, curled around and studied its tail.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can!” I yelled.
My voice must’ve gotten the dog’s attention. It forgot its tail and turned its head and stared at me with its only eye.
I muttered, “Uh-oh.”
It came at me like a sprinter out of the blocks.
“Shit!” Rusty yelled. “Run! Go, man!”
I ran like hell.
Somewhere in the distance behind me, Rusty yelled, “Hey, you fuckin’ mangy piece of shit! Over here!”
I looked back.
The dog, gaining on me, turned its head for a glance toward the voice.
Rusty let fly with a sneaker.
The dog barked at him ... or at the airborn shoe.
The sneaker hit the ground a couple of yards behind it and tumbled, throwing up dust. Not even a near miss. But the dog wheeled around and barked.
Rusty threw a second sneaker.
The dog glanced over its shoulder at me, snarled, then dodged the second sneaker (which would’ve missed it anyway by about five feet) and raced forward to renew its seige of the snack stand.
Chapter Eight
Afraid the dog might change its mind and come after me again, I ran for all I was worth until I reached the edge of the woods. Then I stopped and turned around.
The dog was sitting in front of the shack, barking and wagging its tail as if it had treed a pair of squirrels.
Up on the roof, Rusty waved at me, swinging his arm overhead like a big, dopey kid.
I waved back at him the same way.
Then Slim, apparently on her knees, raised herself up behind the sign. Holding onto it with one hand, she waved at me with the other.
My throat went thick and tight.
I waved back furiously and yelled, “See ya later!”
And a voice in my head whispered, Oh, yeah?
But who pays attention to those voices? We get them all the time. I do, don’t you? When someone you love is leaving the house, doesn’t it occur to you, now and then, that you may never see him or her again? Flying places, don’t you sometimes think What if this one goes down? Driving, don’t you sometimes imagine an oncoming truck zipping across center lines and wiping out everyone in your car? Such thoughts give you a nasty sick feeling inside, but only for a few seconds. Then you tell yourself nothing’s going to happen. And, turns out, nothing does happen.