Ben circled the shed, keeping a safe distance away from wide opening at the bottom. He had helped Papa clean out under there and he knew it was rocky, and dark, and covered in chicken poo. Mimi had yelled at Papa for betting Ben an ice cream he wouldn’t crawl all the way under the shed. It was a tempting bet but he chickened out when Papa pulled out his pocket knife and started to clean his fingernails. When Ben eyed the knife Papa had said, “Just in case. There’s no way to be sure what’s crawling around under there. Yell if anything grabs at you lad.”
Ben paused, crouched, and listened. Nothing snarled or hissed at him. He put on the goggles and dropped to his belly, making sure he wasn’t going to land on a pile of chicken or goat poo. He was still staying a full body length away from the shed and was ready to spring up and bolt at the first sign of fangs or a rattle.
He lay there for a long while, the sun was starting to warm the ground and the smells of the pen were picking up. He cupped his gloved hands around the safety goggles, trying to block out the sun so he could see under the shed.
He waited.
Ben had gone fishing often enough with Papa to know that patience was the key. It was important to be able to just sit, and wait, and watch. After long minutes he saw something. There was just a quick change of a shadow outlined by the light on the other side of the shed, but it was definitely something. He couldn’t tell exactly how far in it was, but he guessed it was somewhere near the center of the shed.
It moved again.
He scooted closer and brought the rake up next to him. He slid just to the edge of the shed, flicking away some goat poop before he paused again. There was more movement, this time with an audible thump and Mr. Watt bleated one short warning from the far side of the pen. Ben stood up and put the wide head of the rake under the edge of the shed between two of the supporting cinder blocks.
The large landscaper’s rake was three feet wide with a row of rigid five inch steel teeth. Ben moved back to the end of the long handle and prepared to shoot the rake in and haul out or scare off whatever was down there. He paused, tucked the rake handle under his arm and tugged at his oversized gloves.
He clapped them a few times, producing a cloud of dirt as he dug in his feet and adjusted his goggles. He planned his escape routes in case it was a rattler, or a python, or a cobra. Ben grabbed the handle with both hands and crouched down to thrust the rake under the shed.
“What in the bloody blazes are you doing?” Mimi shouted as she came through the pen gate.
“There’s a snake under the shed Mimi,” Ben said, “And I’m a fixin’ to wrangle him.”
Mimi laughed out loud at the sight of Ben. His oversized goggles, huge gloves, and dwarfing rake were funny enough, but the look of sheer determination on his sweet face pushed her over the edge. He looked like something out of a Benny Hill skit.
“Just one minute, lad,” Mimi said, “Do you mind if we just have a wee looky peeky at this anaconda first?” She produced a big pink plastic flashlight.
“Great idea Meem!” Ben said, “Gimme that.” He grabbed the flashlight, dropped to his belly, and probed the darkness from the edge of the gap under the shed.
The beam landed on the thing he had seen moving.
Ben yelled, “Oh my freaking God, Mimi!”
Chapter 14
“Well, shit for brains,” Jerry said, “Could you have fucked this up any more?”
Aaron had skipped his post-breakfast joint so he was still sharp enough to figure out Jerry wouldn’t appreciate the smart ass answer he had on deck. She brushed past him, grabbed the spray head and grumbled as she turned on the kennel’s hose.
Doug inspected the bent open cage door and the cracked open barrel, and the trail of purple slime without getting too close to any of them.
“Fuck,” he said with his hands on his hips, “Shit damn fuck.”
He rubbed his forehead, and tried hard not to pick up the barrel’s lid and beat the big dumb jock with it.
“Aaron,” he said slowly, “I want you to stack them in a single row. Stack them from this center support beam,” Doug walked the path he wanted the barrels to follow carefully indicating a row with his hands, “Right down the middle here to the back wall. One tight row, as high as you have to stack them. That way they’re not in the way. Got it?” He stared at Aaron until he nodded. “Seal this drum and check the rest of them before you move them,” he said, “And I don’t want to see one hour of this, or yesterday, on your fucking time sheet.” Doug shot the big kid a dirty look as he walked past him.
Aaron thought about mentioning the errands he needed to run later with his dad but he still had just enough brain cells firing to read Doug’s scowl and keep quiet.
Doug followed the slime trail and joined his wife at the kennel door. “Could have been worse,” he said, “One little dog lost and some goop gone. Hose this shit off and we’re good. The coyotes probably got the bitch anyway but I’ll stop by Dr. D’s and tell her to keep an eye out just the same.”
“Fine,” was all Jerry said as she started to push the slime towards the floor drain with a stream of water. She wanted to know exactly what she was hosing down the drain, and she wanted to say, This shit would have never fucking happened if you had fucking been here. Oh, and by the way where the fuck where you until two in the fucking morning? but she bit her tongue. She didn’t have the facts to bust him cold, and he was sure to ask about the drugs and the money soon enough.
The thick slime clogged the drain for a minute before dissolving and gurgling through the grate. It flowed into the pipe under the concrete floor and out to the cistern a few hundred feet away. The cistern was near the dirt road and it was new, Doug had it installed when they expanded the kennel. The old cistern was several hundred yards in the opposite direction but the pipes had been clogged with roots and couldn’t be salvaged. Doug’s drunk, lazy, corner-cutting contractor buddy decided there was no need to run the new pipes so far into the woods and it would be smarter, and coincidentally way fucking easier for his fat ass, to just dig near the dirt road. Unfortunately he didn’t check the plot plan, and the leeching pipes for the new cistern happened to be directly above the well that provided water for the kennels…and their house.
Chapter 15
The family stood shoulder to shoulder behind Ben who was seated at the kitchen table, sobbing.
Aila had her hands on his shoulders and leaned down to kiss the top of her son’s head.
The end of the table was covered in a white drop cloth. It was half of an old bed sheet that had been set aside for a future painting project. Sitting on top of the cloth was one large white bundle and three small ones. The larger bundle was wrapped in the other half of the drop cloth. Ben could clearly make out the shape of the mother dog’s head, the curve of her back, and her paws. The three other bundles were carefully wrapped up in paper towel. They were very small, each about the size and shape of Ben’s fist.
Mimi was at the sink washing her hands. She shut off the water and dried them, and took a small cardboard box from the counter and placed it in Ben’s lap. There was an electrical cord dangling from the box and she plugged it into an extension cord.
“Well hey there,” Ben said, wiping his eyes and looking down into the box. On a fluffy pink towel were two tiny black puppies shivering against each other. They looked more like blind black rats than little dogs.
“Will they make it?” Kelcy asked, sniffling as she reached into the box to adjust the heating pad under the towel.
Mimi said, “I dunno. I’ve seen them nursed to pure health when a mother had died giving birth, but it takes constant care and these two wee ones are not well.”
She looked at Dan who was misting up and staring into the box, and then at Aila. Mother and daughter carried out an entire conversation with their eyebrows.
Mimi pressed on anyway, “Would be a damn shame to lose these scrappers after their mum put up such a valiant effort to bring them into the world.”
Mi
mi had cleaned up the dead mother and noticed the deep cuts on her snout and paws, her thin coat, and the missing tooth. She also didn’t like the smell of her. The poor thing had vomited and had severe diarrhea, and there was more than the average birth mess and blood. This dog had travelled a hard road and it wasn’t easy getting into Mimi’s goat pen, those cunning damn coyotes tried almost nightly. It was a miracle two of the mother’s five pups had survived this long.
Mimi patted the bundle on the table and fought a wave of that famous temper as she thought, God help the bastard responsible for this if ever we cross paths.
Chapter 16
Doug stood at the kitchen sink, downing four aspirin and chugging the rest of his glass of water as a black Cadillac Escalade pulled into the turn around and skidded to a stop in the gravel. He heard crunching on the stones and then heavy footsteps on the back steps.
“S’open,” he yelled, and then regretted having said it so loudly.
“Dougeeey, how’s it hanging, Hoss?” Liko Tzeng said as he yanked open the door and strolled across the kitchen. His slip-on polished leather boots clicked on the linoleum as the floor groaned under his bulk. He gave Doug a Viking handshake, pulled him close and grabbed him by the back of the head with his free hand.
Not very quietly he whispered into Doug’s ear, “That bitch around?”
“No, we’re cool, she’s out at the kennel,” Doug said.
He didn’t mind being called Dougy nearly as much as he minded Liko’s sweat, his man-fume or whatever the hell he splashed all over himself, and his ever-present tobacco breath. Liko chain smoked the real things at night and e-cigs during the day, but both stunk.
Smoking pot made sense to Doug, it smelled good and got you happy but cigarettes were just disgusting corporate moneymaking bullshit. Doug thought it was gross enough putting up with his fucking wife’s constant cigarette smoking but being so close to a mouth-breathing smoker who seemed to always be out of breath was just plain vile.
To top it off Liko liked to be very close. He was a close-talking, arm around you, touchy, leaner-inner kind of guy. Doug wondered if that was partly due to the slits that Liko had for eyes behind his Coke-bottle Fu Man Chu glasses. Doug didn’t even know what color his eyes were, so maybe Liko just couldn’t see him unless he was up close.
“You hanging, Hoss?” Liko said, “How about a greeeezy pork sandwich?”
He slapped Doug a few times on the back, and then pushed his glasses up onto the wide hump that was the bridge of his nose with a stubby finger. He released Doug after a few more shoves and tugs and dropped his considerable bulk into an arguing kitchen chair. He wrapped his fat lips around his e-cig and sucking noisily.
The sun had fully cleared the trees and was streaming in through the back screen door. Dust particles caught the shafts of light and floated and danced on the rising currents, transfixing Doug’s fuzzy mind. It seemed suddenly very stuffy in the kitchen. He cracked the front window to get some cross breeze going in the house as the dust fairies danced away. He was more than a little queasy from too much alcohol and not enough food, and that vile hug from Liko hadn’t helped. The thought of a pork sandwich was pushing his stomach further into his throat and he gulped into the back of his hand.
“I am never going to Providence with you ever again,” he said.
Liko laughed as he leaned back and stretched out his legs, admiring his boots in the sunlight. Doug thought it probably wasn’t often Liko saw his own shoes.
“It’s the least I could do, Hoss,” Liko said, “And I meant what I said last night, assuming you can remember any of it. Look, I sold a shit-ton this week and I couldn’t have done it without you. The new location is going bang-bang,” Liko snapped his fingers with each ‘bang’ as his rings caught the sunlight, “We’re making a killing and I need to keep my new partner happy.”
He took a big drag and leaned his bulk forward to indicate he was turning serious. Liko said, “So what’s the plan for this land problem bullshit?”
Chapter 17
Alpha and One Ear sat in a puddle of late moonlight on a small hill looking down on the farmhouse. They were downwind from a scent they were tracking, and their nostrils flared as they sampled the air. Alpha had sent the Weasel Twins back to the den with the two turkeys they had taken down by the river, but he and One Ear had taken the long way back to the den.
They had circled back to a trail that led from the river to the farmhouse. He had a suspicion about the captive dog that had evaded them and he wanted to follow up on it. It turned out he could not have been more right. One Ear congratulated Alpha, she was impressed the older hunter still had a few things to teach her.
The pregnant dog had cut a zigzag path north to the farmhouse. She still managed to lay down scent that threw them off a few times but the hunters managed to pick it up again. Their crafty little dog prey must have caught wind of these humans and their farm, and gambled she could find captive refuge among them.
Alpha couldn’t quite figure out how she had managed to make it this far, sick as she was, or how she got inside the pen. He and his team had been trying to breach it for years. Once in a while they got lucky when they attacked and scared a few of the younger birds to jump the fence where they were easily scooped up by the hunters waiting on the other side.
Alpha had to hand it to the cunning prey. Other than the unfortunate end, she had played it smart. The humans here were diligent and aggressive, and had a loud weapon. This place was no soft target and they hunted here only with hit-and-run tactics, and extreme caution.
They weren’t here to hunt birds, however, and were silent as they circled the pen and the house. Careful sniffing and experience would allow a good hunter to put together what had happened to their prey. Alpha challenged One Ear to decipher what she was smelling, and she tentatively read and decoded the signs to him. She thought the prey had scaled the back of the fence somehow, and died at some point in the night after she had her pups. Some of the pups had certainly died as well, but One Ear was not sure about the number that had lived, at least one she thought. Alpha agreed with a rare kudo lick to her cheek.
He was disappointed he was not going to have another go at this unique and worthy prey, but perhaps her offspring might still provide them with a big of fun, and revenge.
Chapter 18
“Good afternoon to you dear,” Mimi said as they entered the clinic lobby and received a welcome wave from Ronnie Van Otten, Dr. D’s veterinary tech.
Mimi shrugged an apology as she noticed Ronnie was on the phone. She was cradling the receiver on her shoulder and stabbing a wad of noodles from her Chinese takeout lunch with a pair of chopsticks. From one of the back rooms came a series of huge barks that shattered the quiet lobby and made everyone jump. Ronnie pressed the other end of her chopsticks into her free ear, smiled, and shrugged a return apology.
Mimi stopped at the vet clinic several times a year for one reason or another and she really liked Ronnie, although she felt Ronnie wore too much makeup and was ghastly thin. Mimi would often say, “She doesn’t have enough room inside her for a rheumatic pain.”
Ronnie was less than well-organized as a receptionist, but she was an experienced tech and Mimi appreciated her calm nature and genuine love of all animals. Ronnie also understood that Mimi and Papa were more than able to care for their goats and chickens and didn’t want or need the full suite of services that Dr. D subtly pushed. They had also helped Ronnie out behind the scenes more than a few times by caring for animals when a client needed special care but could not afford the steeply rising prices the clinic charged.
Mimi also appreciated that even though she was less than a hundred pounds soaking wet with boots on, Ronnie was fearless with any size animal even when they were hurt and potentially very dangerous. She also had ten years of experience, having started at the clinic while in high school and returning after vet school. She stayed on after the previous owner, her mentor, sold the clinic to Dr. D.
Mimi m
uch preferred the past owner.
As the loud barking from the back room subsided Ronnie hung up the phone. She moved her lunch out of the way, wiped her hands on the front of her colorful paw printed smock, and carefully took the small cardboard box from Ben.
“Oh my,” Ronnie said, “Well you weren’t kidding, they are tiny little nippers aren’t they?”
She pulled them both from the box and held them up for a good look. The pups whimpered just a little as she separated them but stopped when they reached out and touched each other’s paws. Ronnie flipped them over and said, “Well hello little boy, and hello little girl. Brother and sister, just like you two.” She smiled at Ben and Kelcy.
“But they’re twins,” Ben said.
“Mmmm,” Ronnie agreed. She flipped down the magnifier on her glasses to take a closer look at the pups and said, “Any thoughts on the mom?”
“No,” Mimi said, “She had no collar, no tattoos and no chips that I could feel. Her wee shoulders were so emaciated I probably would have found it. Based on her condition I would suspect she was a stray who’d been on the run a long time, and had a tough go of it at that. I’m guessing she’s not a local, and I’m not at all surprised you don’t have a flyer on her.” Mimi gestured to the overflowing cork board near the door where the local professional business cards, tear-away bottom classifieds, and town notice flyers were posted. There were also two dozen homemade missing cat and dog posters. None of them were looking for an all-black, medium sized, mixed breed dog. Ronnie had the unenviable task of informing owners she had to take down their older posters to make room for new ones. Most missing pets not found after a few days were likely taken by the coyotes.
Spot and Smudge - Book One Page 6
