Moondog and the Reed Leopard

by Neil Mach

  ‘Hello,’ Hopie shouted. She gave the man a delicate wave, then placed an innocent black-nyloned knee behind the other in a coy, yet flirty, manner. As she did this, she opened her lips a fraction of a second, then gave and him a winning smile. There was no doubt it — the girl was adorable, and she knew it.

  ‘Hello, Miss, er?’ garbled Stephen Ruis. Meanwhile, the bitch-with-a-twitch regarded Hopie with an air of undisguised hostility. She breathed raucously through a fat nose.

  ‘Hi, my name is Hopie. May I have a very quick chat with you? I won’t take more than a minute, doctor; your excellent gatekeeper here says I need an appointment...’

  ‘Yes, that’s fine... I have a minute for you,’ said Ruis admiring the shortness of Hopie’s skirt. ‘Just come through to my surgery, this way...’ he pointed to a side door. ‘Just five minutes with this charming young lady...’ he continued, directing his comments to the blue-haired receptionist. ‘When is my next?’

  ‘Now,’ she snorted.

  ‘Tell them to wait...’ Ruis said. He made a theatrical gesture of looking around the empty waiting room. ‘I cannot see anyone anyhow...’

  ‘Whatever.’

  *

  In his surgery, Stephen Ruis pulled a high stool to face him then pushed Hopie into it. He fell back into a lower cushion-seat. As Hopie climbed high onto the stool, her skirt rode high to reveal the length of her thigh. From his low-down position, Stephen Ruis could glimpse the control panel of her pantyhose.

  Hopie adopted a semi-formal pose, with one knee crossed over the other, and so that the seam of her skirt moved with the uppermost portion of her thigh. There was a delicious moment when she adjusted her leg to almost showed the vet her kickers. Ruis purred with satisfaction.

  ‘How can I help, miss?’ he asked, adjusting his spectacles.

  ‘This is a bit out-of-the-ordinary. I have a special request, doctor. My doggie, a standard smooth-haired dachshund, is very old. I doubt she’ll last the year.

  ‘Bring her in, and we’ll see what we can do, we can do a lot of things these days. We’ll take a look at —’

  ‘That’s not what I came about...’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘If she, you know if she goes... when the time comes, I want some keepsake…’

  ‘Of course,’ Ruis said, licking his lips and gazing at her milky thigh from his low chair.

  ‘Yes, when the time comes… is there any way, any way at all, to remember her? Perhaps holding some memento of her will help with the loss? I mentioned this to my Mum, and she said, no of course not, but I know people keep rabbit’s paws, don’t they?’

  ‘You want to keep a dachshund paw?’ Ruis tilted his head to see if he could glimpse her pretty panties as he writhed on his low chair.

  ‘I know it sounds senseless and maybe a little weird, but it would mean the whole world to me,’ said Hopie, adjusting her skirt.

  ‘Not at all, it’s perfectly natural to keep a memory of a loved one. Perhaps in the form of an amulet, for example. It’s something we do here all the time. You could even say it’s a house specialty. We do it for our trusted clients all the time.’

  ‘You would; I don’t know how to say this so I’ll have a stab: you would separate the paw yourself?’

  ‘Yes, I perform all the surgery.’

  ‘And another thing that worries me is: how do you keep it from, you know? I hope you do not mind me asking, how do you keep it from going off? How does the body part get preserved?’

  ‘Not at all, my dear. Do you mind coming this way?’ Ruis lifted himself from the chair then took her elbow and guided her down a corridor to a back room. This room was washed with antiseptic and lit brightly by overhead tubes. He moved his arm around her waist and motioned her to a series of shelves. She saw that each contained several bottles and containers.

  ‘These are what?’

  ‘These are specimen jars,’ Ruis replied. His hand casually dropped to the cheeks of her bottom. He allowed his fingers to delve into flesh. ‘Somebody-parts are pickled, to use an unscientific word, other parts dry gently, look here...’

  Ruis guided her backside to another part of the backroom where he showed her an electric drying machine with several thin drawers. He opened one so she could view a tray. It contained separated body parts placed neatly on a perforated rack. ‘Wow, so many...’ Hopie said. She guessed most were rabbit’s feet.

  ‘Yes, we turn these things into amulets and bracelets, and key-rings and mantle-piece items. Anything that a client wants. We place body parts or tiny bones and sometimes samples of hair into lockets or medallions. They are worn around the neck... It’s quite a thriving cottage industry we have here. Of course, most orders go out via the internet to the far east, these days.’

  ‘Why would someone want tiny bones in a locket?’

  Ruis made gentle brushstrokes on her flesh, ‘Sometimes for memories, as you do, but normally to bring luck or ward off evil spirits.’

  ‘I had never thought about any of that, it’s amazing…’ Hopie said. She turned around to face him, and the old vet moved his hands to his side. She looked at him directly in the eye. ‘If I bring my dear old bitch in here, you could amputate her paw and prepare it for me as a doggie take-away?’

  He seemed taken back by the straight-forward question but gave a smile and answered the query anyway: ‘Erm? Take-away is a bit of an odd phrase. I’d prefer not to use it. But, otherwise, yes, my dear, we do all post-mortem rendering at the surgery, everything is sterile, and we work in the strictest confidence with clients. How does that sound?’

  ‘I’ll discuss it with my Mum and see what she thinks. I will probably come back.’

  ‘That’s wonderful. I’m looking forwards to seeing you again. What did you say your name was?’

  ‘Hope,’ she said.

  He came to offer Hopie more ‘help’ by pushing her bottom with his fingers and moving an oily arm around her waist. That’s when she finally had enough, and shouted, ‘Get off, you disgusting oaf.’ She pushed away his repulsive hands, then gave the vet a look of utter contempt.

  She paraded from the surgery and gave the blue-haired receptionist a withering look too, just for the sake of it.

  *

  Crompton’s Path

  Hopie stepped out of the Vet’s surgery and the pale sunlight feeling pleased with herself. She even considered calling Moondog to tell him what she’d found out but decided the news could keep till later. She decided to walk slowly towards the police station and, if she arrived early, she might indulge herself with a treat of avocado toast from Nan’s health food store.

  She grinned as she began to stroll towards the centre of the town. As she passed a dark alleyway that led to a boutique — a passageway known as Crompton’s Path — an extended hand grabbed at her from the darkness. She caught sight of a tough, fibrous arm as it punched out.

  It happened fast, and so aggressively that she was pulled off her feet sideways. She struggled to get free from the strong grip, but her attacker grew more resilient as she drove her legs into his. She felt manhandled into an alcove, out of direct view from the street, and got hauled into a smelly and dingy recess by the stranger.

  ‘Get your grubby hands off me, you frogging moron...’ she croaked. But her assailant shielded her mouth with revolting smelly fingers and pinched her nose.

  ‘Keep it down,’ he growled. ‘Stop fighting, twit. Calm down. It’s me. Only me…’

  Hopie distinguished the recognizable aroma and thought she saw his long, yellowish fingers. Then she remembered the plaintive voice. She turned her neck just enough to catch a glimpse of her attacker’s watery eyes. ‘Jimmie? What the holy shit-shat are you doing? Get off me, you bloody pest…’

  ‘Shut it ...’ he said. He took a long, hoarse breath. Then he brought his body closer and bared his teeth. ‘I am going to do what I should have done years ago. I am going to claim what is mine. I’m going to mark my mare. I am fed up with other stallions circling your body. If I
mark you, other stallions will stay away...’

  ‘You’re mad,’ Hopie shouted. ‘What are you on about? Get off me this instant.’ She got a slap for that. Her cheek fizzed with pain. Then he put his hand across her mouth, and she felt his knee bend powerfully into the back of her legs.

  ‘I saw your new boyfriend this morning,’ said the voice. ‘The gypsy came to warn me. The only thing is, he wasn’t quick enough, was he?’ Her attacker made a low guttural sound. ‘Sorry to bring you bad news, Hopie, but that guy you’ve met is the worst kind of gypsy scum. He’s a dangerous and dirty scumbag — and he’s not your type at all. It’s an infatuation on your part, that’s why I have forgiven you. But he’s gone for good now. So, now you are free to come back to me...’ Jimmie sniggered, and Hopie caught a whiff of his foul breath. She wondered how long he’d been smoking. Though his breath didn’t smell like tobacco, it smelt herbal. And she could also smell liquor too. ‘I’ve taken him down today…’ Jimmie continued. ‘I finished him. Finished him off, to be accurate. How do you like the sound of that? That’s news, hot off the press. You’re first to know. I bring you the news personally. I saw you walking down the road, and I was excited to tell you. You’ll never see that pikey again — boo hoo hoo.’

  ‘Get off me you pig...’ Hopie said as she flexed her knees and tried in vain to use all her residual energy to escape his suffocating grip. But Jimmie didn’t weaken easily.

  ‘So, you’re shot of him…’ he said. ‘So now can come back to me, no apologies required. I aim to mark you, though, so beware. I don’t want you to forget I’m your main guy, me only. You are mine and mine alone.’

  ‘Moondog will come for you...’

  ‘No, he will not. Didn’t you hear me? I finished him...’

  ‘You’re not big enough to handle Moondog. He’s a born fighter. He’s been a scrapper all his life...’

  ‘Did I say it was me that handled him? You are assuming that I did, but there are more dangerous guys out there. Guys that can handle a gypsy. Nuff said? I got shot of him, that’s all you need to know...’ Jimmie made a long mocking laugh, and Hopie decided he sounded certifiably psychotic.

  ‘What did you do to him?’ she whispered.

  ‘You will know when the reports come in...’ Jimmie gave a wild laugh. ‘But now, sweet thing, it’s time to get ready. Because I’m going to mark you. I told you I would. It’s long overdue…’

  Hopie stiffened her muscles and strengthened her tendons, ready to make a final push, but she never expected what happened next.

  Jimmie made a sudden gurgling noise and pulled away from her. He managed to hold onto her chin for a fraction of a second; then his hand slid away and he got pulled backwards by something ferocious and snarling.

  Hopie vaguely saw something beastly in the darkness. Something that was not quite human, perhaps a half wolf or a half bear. Whatever the thing was, it looked like a monstrous hairy lump of madness. And the thing clung to Jimmie and wouldn’t let go.

  At first, Hopie thought she should run, but her curiosity caused her to wait and watch. What kind of monster had saved her?

  ‘Get off me, you foul smelling scuzzball....’ shouted Jimmie. Then Hopie realized what the fuzz-monster actually was — a dirty vagabond who’d been hidden inside the gloomy ingress all along. In the fraction of a second available, Hopie bit into Jimmie’s arm. ‘Ahh, bitch...’ she heard him snarl. She ducked under Jimmie’s armpit and pushed herself from the cranny and into the brightest part of the street. From there, she saw the down-and-out had doggedly rip onto Jimmie. She recognised him as the same vagrant she’d met before, the one with a dodgy eye. She also saw his bag of rags in one corner. The old timer held onto Jimmie like a furious terrier, with an unshakeable look of fierce determination on a grimy face. ‘Run little lady…’ he shouted. ‘I got this one.’

  ‘Get away from me, you filthy plague rat,’ Jimmie yelled. But the old beggar wouldn’t let go.

  Hopie hesitated for a moment and watched as Jimmie used all his strength to twist his body around. Then he rammed both arms down and into the old man’s limbs as he broke free of his grip. ‘Why you loathsome tramp, I will bloody...’ he slapped the veteran violently around the face. Hopie was about to boot Jimmie Lavery in the groin — but he looked at his phone as it bleeped out. ‘Cobblers, I’ve got to go. I’ve been called in to see the Chief. We’ll do this later, Hopie. And you…’ he gazed at the old man. ‘You will pay for this. I’m coming back to get you. You’ll be sorry…’

  The vagrant spat on the floor and Jimmie ran across the road and out of sight.

  Hopie put her fingers to her cheeks and groaned.

  *

  At five o’clock, Moondog’s silver Mercedes minicab stopped outside the main door of the county nick. Hopie had never been so happy to see him. She rushed to the car, pulled open the door in a trice, took Moondog’s face into her palms and kissed his nose, both cheeks, his forehead, and finally his chin.

  ‘Whoa, girl. What’s with you?’

  ‘I did not think I’d ever see you again!’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘It’s a long story, I can explain, but we haven’t much time...’ She blurted out her home address to the driver, who nodded, and the car drove away.

  ‘Have you been crying?’ Moondog asked when he examined her face.

  ‘Crying, laughing, shouting, screaming, and everything in between. I’ve had an emotional day...’

  ‘Tell me everything.’

  ‘Like I said, we don’t have much time. I need to get to my house while rat Jimmie is inside the station talking with the Chief. Then, once I collect what I need from my cottage, I will get over to the County headquarters, if that’s okay with you? It’s thirty miles from here. Would you mind if I take the cab? I need to talk with the high command. I already told them I’m coming ...’

  ‘Wow, lot’s been happening... Yes of course take the cab.’

  Hopie gave Moondog a slack smile, though her red eyes revealed something of the tension she’d experienced. ‘I also better tell you that I will stay with my mother this weekend... and in the weeks ahead. That’s until I get myself properly settled.’ Moondog looked into his empty hands as she spoke. ‘I will stay in the hotel till the end of the week, though, if that’s fine with you. But I’ll be off your hands by the end of the week. That’s why I’m going to County headquarters… to tell them what happened today. I will speak to the Chief Constable I ask him for a transfer back to the city.’

  ‘You don’t have to be off my hands you know. You’re not a burden…’

  ‘Yes, I do, I suppose. With me around, um, I think my being seen with you is putting you in danger. You know, Moondog, I don’t want this to end, but —’

  ‘I’ll be gone soon myself, actually... Folks like us, we stay for a while. Though things change and we move on…’

  ‘Please, I can’t bear it. Don’t go yet, stay a little while longer, at least until I’m settled please. Stay nearby until I get my transfer to the city. Would you do that? Please promise me you would do that, yeah? You’ve been so good for me —’

  ‘Don’t forget that my people are celebrated for their habit of leaving in the night. We just hook our wagons and go. It’s our thing, it’s what we’re famous for. Here today, gone tomorrow... that’s our way. We leave safe places behind; we choose to live in the tomorrow-land. ’

  ‘Please, please promise you won’t do that. Please promise...’ Hopie started to wring her hands ‘Please promise you’ll not leave without saying goodbye. Say goodbye before you go — please I implore you.’

  ‘Well it’s highly unusual, but since you ask so nicely, how can I refuse? I could never refuse a pretty lady...’

  Hopie gave his bubbly hair a tender stroke.

  *

  The taxi stopped directly outside the Porter's Cottage. Hopie jumped out and looked at Moondog. She put her hand to her chest and said, ‘Are you coming?’

  He shook his head and stretched his knee
s, comfortable in the back.

  ‘Why won’t you come in? Why not? Just once? You are not a vampire, right? And even if you were, I am inviting you in, so it’s okay, right? Let’s go inside Moondog, I need your help. I do not have hidden security cameras, if that’s what you think, I can barely afford food on the pittance they give me, let alone technology.’

  Moondog gave a fixed look, sucked in his cheeks and crossed his legs. He wasn’t going to budge from the car seat.

  ‘Are not you going to come inside to help? Come on, I don’t want to be alone in there, not for a second. Please, I’m asking kindly, I’m begging...’

  Moondog made a long, noisy sigh and opened the door. ‘This is very irregular,’ he murmured, ‘But I do not want you to get anxious in there ...’

  ‘Good, this means a lot. Thank you.’ Hopie held his hand as she jiggled her key into the door-lock and opened.

  The place seemed moldy and airless, the doors and windows had not been open for days. ‘I’ll grab a few clothes from my bedroom, toiletries from the bathroom and a few essentials like a phone charger. Would you do me a favour and look for my weekend-bag? It’s got wheels and I keep it behind the sofa. Do I need anything else? My mind is a-whirl.’

  ‘No problem,’ Moondog grunted.

  ‘Do you want a drink? Or, a sandwich, I don’t know if I’ve got much. Or use the toilet? ‘

  ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘I won’t be long. I promise. It’s a quick dash in and a quick dash out. Five or ten minutes at the most...’

  ‘Great.’

  *

  Hopie found the clothes that she needed and stuffed a pile of fresh underwear into a pillowcase. She ran to the bathroom to check her wall cabinet, and there she selected the items she needed while some she others back. Afterwards, she hurried to the wardrobe and found-out a load of gear she needed to take with her back to Mum’s. She folded the stuff into a canvas bag. ‘Hey,’ she shouted from the landing. ‘Have you found my going-away case? I need now, like right now.’