by Dawn Witzke
Jake
A RELIC HUNTER SHORT
Dawn Witzke
To all of the dogs that have stolen girl’s hearts.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright (c) 2017 by Dawn Witzke
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this work or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.
EARTH 2084
“Good doggie.” The small grizzly bear sized dog bared its teeth at me letting out a low growl. Oh, crap. Why did I have to take that damn shortcut? I contemplated for all of three seconds about how I could get into the abandoned house behind me before I was dog food. He’d have me before I could turn around.
The animal, ten feet in front of me, was filthy. A thick layer of mud coated the dog’s fur. Shoulder and hip bones stuck out at sharp angles where muscles should have been. It was obvious the he hadn’t moved from that spot for quite awhile. Maybe he’s injured.
Or not. I stepped back, prepared to run as he rose.
A nother foot taller and he could have looked me directly in the eye.
I am so dead.
He took a step forward, stumbled, then collapsed. A pitiful whine emanated from him as he settled back into dirt. A thick chain, camouflaged by a layer of mud, stopped him from moving from his spot.
I let out my own growl. The lowlife who moved, leaving his dog tied to a tree without food or water should be whipped and hung by his toes.
Sanity and reason made a fleeting gesture in the face of an animal in need. I said a silent prayer, then slowly approached him.
He eyed me as I scraped the dried mud off the clasp. Thankfully, he didn’t try to take my hand off when I unhooked the chain from his collar.
“You’re free.”
With freedom, he didn’t move. He took in ragged breaths, his ribs, visible where the hair had been worn away.
“Come on, let’s go. You can come home with me tonight.” I could have called Animal Control and let them deal with him, but in his size and condition, they’d likely put him down.I tried to coax him to move. Instead he put his head on the ground and looked up at me with sad eyes.
“Hmm. Are you injured?”
He lay still while I checked him for injuries. When I was satisfied that he had no broken bones, I wiped the muck from my hands onto my pants. Yuck.
“Now, how am I going to get you home?” There was no way I could carry him home, he had to be well over 200 pounds even as emaciated as he was. I’d need something to put him on.
“Tomorrow we’ll find you a new home with someone who isn’t a moron.” I doubt he understood me, but I talked to him anyway.
The backdoor to the garage was unlocked. I sifted through the remains of the previous owners. There were a few boxes sitting in a corner, but little else. I climbed the ladder into the loft. There was a stash of old toys, a tricycle and a long plastic sled. I pulled it down and carried it outside. I set it on the ground next to him.
“Come on, boy, get on the sled.” He made an effort to get up, but collapsed back down. There had to be a way to get him on. I found a piece of one by six board that was broken on one end and began to dig a hole for the back end of the sled to rest in. If I could get it low enough, I could slide him on and pull him out of the mud.
The sun had set completely by the time I finished. I put my arms around the dog’s chest and pulled him, inch by inch, onto the sled. I caught my breath before I tried to pull the sled to the road. Crap. It didn’t budge. The dogs weight had sunk the sled into the mud, which would require me to either lift the front end of the sled up onto drier ground two feet away. Or I could create a ramp that would make it easier to pull the sled out of the mud. It took forever digging in the dark as the mud slid back into the areas I had cleared moments earlier.
The dog seemed to understand that I was trying to help him. With great effort, he used his muzzle to push mud from the hole. It didn’t help, but it was cute watching him try. When I finished, I took a few moments to rest. He nuzzled my hand to get me to pet him. We stayed in that position until the pain in my arms and back dulled to a minor ache.
“Let’s see if this works.” I held the rope tight against my hips as I pulled. With a sucking sound, the sled came free. My legs and arms screamed in pain as I pulled the sled through the darkened streets. Ships of every shape and size flew overhead.I walked until I found a street I recognized. Two hours later, I was home. I pulled him in through the back of the building that served as both my home and office.
The bags of office supplies went on the counter before I turned my attention to finding the dog something to eat. The cupboards revealed a half opened box of spaghetti, a can of mushrooms, a jar of sauce and three packages of chicken ramen. That wasn’t going to work. I opened the fridge and a couple of stale pieces of pizza and catsup stared back at me.
“I hope you like cold cheese pizza.” I took the two slices out of the fridge and put the plate in the sink. The dog perked up when I set them in front of him. In a single bite, both slices were gone. He spilled more of the water I set down for him than he drank. “Let’s get you someplace comfortable. In the morning I can go to the store and get you real food.”
Upstairs I found an old blanket, that I folded it into quarters and laid on the kitchen floor next to the sled. I helped the dog on to the blanket where he could rest.
“Just as soon as you can move, you’re getting a bath. You stink.” He just looked at me with sad eyes. His tail began a low drumming on the floor when I reached out and petted his massive head. I retrieved my commpad from my office desk and sat on the floor next to the dog.
“Let’s see if I can find out what kind of dog you are.” I turned the device on adn searched for gigantic dog breeds on FindIt. Several came up. I settled on the picture of the Stirling Mastiff.
Stirling Mastiff. Descended from the English and Neapolitan Mastiffs. These dogs were bred in Stirling, Scotland during the Palgeon war to guard civilian cities from attacks. They range in height from 35-40” at the shoulder and weigh up to 500 lbs. During the Pageon war, they were outfitted with body armor and were so intelligent they roamed freely throughout civilian cities. Stirling Mastiffs have short dense coats of silver gray fur that has it’s own armor-like qualities..
“Wow. You’re supposed to be 500 lbs? I’m going to need a lot of dog food.” His tail began to thump again. “Now, what to call you?” I rolled around some names in my head. Goliath, Atlas, Beast, Bear, Diesel, Jupiter, but none seemed to fit. “How about Jake? I like that name.” Jake thumped his tail again. “Jake it is.”
“I am going to bed, Jake. You stay here and I’ll see you in the morning.” I stood and the low whine began. “Goodnight.” I left the light on for him.
* * *
The next morning I rolled out of bed and my feet touched a furry lump instead of the wood floor. Sometime in the night Jake had gotten himself up the stairs and into my room. He stirred and looked up at me.
“Alright, bud. If you can make it up here, you can get a bath.” Jake was unsteady as he followed me to the bathroom. I filled the tub half full. I didn’t have any dog soap so I used some awful smelling bubble bath one of my clients had given me at Christmas. They must not have liked my patchouli soap. “Sorry, Jake, but you’ll have to smell like flowers for a little while.”
I lifted his front end into the water, then got his back end in. Jake just stood there in the water. It took three attempts to get all of the dirt scrubbed from his coat. Under the mud was a bright silver and black brindle pattern. I wiped him down, then got him comfortable on a clean blanket in the kitchen. I left hi
m in the kitchen while I changed out my soaked clothes and cleaned the ring of hair and dirt from the tub.
I should have taken him out before leaving to fetch dog food and other supplies, but he looked so peaceful curled up. The walk to the store didn’t take long. The general store was a mile from my home along winding roads. The route was littered with cul-de-sacs and roads that turned back on themselves. With Jake waiting at home, I stuck to the main route, avoiding shortcuts. I didn’t want to end up lost in the rat’s maze of streets.
I purchased the largest bag of food that they carried, discovering my mistake two minutes into the return trip. What had been a quick trip to the store turned into an epic journey on the way home. The fifty pound bag could only be carried a short ways before the pain set in. It tried carrying it in front of me, hugging it to me. Then I tried over each shoulder. As long as I switched shoulders every few minutes and set it down at the end of each block, it wasn’t so bad.
The deep howling pain of a dog crying reached my ears a block from my home. Jake . I walked as fast as I could, not bothering to switch shoulders when the pain set in. A small crowd of a half dozen of my neighbors were gathered by the front door of my shop.
“Sounds like something broke in and is trashing the place.” Simon, the owner of the hardware store across the street, informed me as I approached. He was in his sixties with a full head of gray hair and a permanent worried look etched across his face. “Annie called the police. We thought the thing had killed you, because you didn’t answer.”
Annie was his wife of 35 or 36 years depending on which one you ask. She had her face pressed to the door’s glass. She stepped back as I approached.
I dropped the heavy bag on the ground in front of me and pulled my keys from my pocket.. “Everything’s fine. I’m alive and well.”
Annie’s brow furrowed under the bangs of her dyed dark brown hair. It was a shade too dark for her complexion and the cut was all wrong, which made it look like a wig rather than her natural hair. “You have a dog?” She asked. “I didn’t know that dear.”
Which was shocking. The woman made it her business to know everything that was going on in the neighborhood. Especially where it concerned me. The others there remained quiet, looking back and forth between us.
“It’s only temporary. He won’t be any more trouble.” I hefted the bag back on my shoulder. “Promise.” I hurried inside before they could ask any more questions. I locked the door to keep them all out, then dropped the bag on the floor. I absently rubbed my sore shoulder.
I wished the busybodies would find someone else to harass. Once the news spread, Alma would likely be along to give me a lecture about having an animal in the house. I rolled my eyes. She was my self-appointed keeper. Annie informed Alma of my comings and goings and anything she didn’t approve of. Jake, she would definitely not approve of. Ugh. And now, thanks to Annie, I have to deal with the police too.
“Jake. What have you been up to you naughty dog?” I side stepped the papers that were strewn about the floor and entered the kitchen. The garbage can was tipped over, every inch of the floor covered with trash. Jake was lying in the middle of the mess licking an empty pizza box.
“Well, you seem to be doing better.” I bent down and righted the garbage can. Jakes tail thumped on the floor. “I bought you food so you can stop attacking my garbage can.” I cleaned up the mess, then grabbed a bowl from the cupboard. Instead of traumatizing my sore shoulders any further, I took the bowl to the bag to fill it. I’d move it later.
Jake abandoned the empty pizza box when I set the bowl on the floor for him. When he’d finished, he looked at me for more. He barked at me when I didn’t immediately comply. “Ok, hold your horses on. I’ll get you more. But, I don’t want you throwing it up later because you ate too fast.” Three bowls later, he settled onto the blanket and closed his eyes. “Don’t go sleeping, yet. You’re going outside to do your business.”
I opened the back door and let him out. He didn’t go far away. There was a small patch of grass between the building and the alley that provided the perfect spot for him to relieve himself. He immediately returned to curl up on the blanket and closed his eyes. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad having him around for a few days.
* * *
I took Jake along while I hung up posters advertising his homelessness. He stayed quietly by my side as we walked. “Hopefully we’ll have a new home for you in no time.” Jake glared at me.
I waved at Annie who was standing in the doorway of the hardware store watching us. Jake had given no indication of being vicious, but several people crossed the street to avoid walking past us anyway. He basically ignored everyone, but apparently they weren’t going to take any chances.
“Charles! Shelly! Come back here!” Two small kids ran in our direction when we stopped by the coffee shop at the end of the block to put a flier on the pole outside. Their mother followed several yards behind, awkwardly jogging in stiletto heels.
The little girl, blond with rosy cheeks, put her nose to his. Please don’t bite her. It’s been known to happen, dogs didn’t like having kids in their face. I held my breath when Jake opened his mouth. The little girl got a faceful of dog slobber when he licked her. She giggled.
The boy, probably 7 or 8, spotted my flier. “Mom! The dog is looking for a home. You said we could get one. Please?” Her botoxed face didn’t move, but I could tell by the fear in her green eyes that she was horrified at the idea.
“Get away from that beast. Let’s get you cleaned up before you get some disease. Disgusting.” The mother grabbed the little girl by the arm and pulled her away. “Come along Charles.” The little boy looked longingly at Jake, then followed his mother down the sidewalk. He continued to beg as they walked away.
Officer Donovan stepped out of the coffee shop, cup in hand. “Hey, Lillyanne.” I was just coming to see you. I got a call from Annie earlier about a break-in.”
“Good thing it wasn’t a real break-in, you’d be a little late.” I teased the man. He was in his mid-fifties with an extended midsection.
“She calls three or four times a day.” He took a drink. “I don’t take them serious unless I get calls from others.”
“There was no break-in. Jake here got a little lonely while I ran to the store.”
“It’s about time you got a dog. A young woman like yourself should have protection. He looks like he could keep a whole gang of perps from breaking in.” Donovan waved at a car that went past.
“Jake’s just staying for a little while. Until I find him a new home.” He let out a low whine.
“Shame.” He took another drink. “I’d almost enjoy the calls from Annie reporting him. It’d be something different for a change.”
I smiled. “Is there anything else? I really should get the rest of these signs up so I can open my shop. Bills unfortunately don’t pay themselves.”
“I’ll stop by and check in on you this evening. Wouldn’t want Annie to think I’m not doing my job.”
“I’ll see you later then.” I crossed the street to hang another couple of fliers, then headed back to my shop.
* * *
A week passed and every inquiry ended with a “we’re not looking for a dog that big” or “never mind” and in several cases they simply hung up. Alma hadn’t made an appearance, either, which was strange for her. That woman made it her mission in life to boss me around. Jake would have been a prime reason for her to do so.
I opened my shop as usual, with Jake confined to the apartment. I didn’t need him scaring away my clients. It was hard enough getting people to pay me to find their lost items. Since it’s a gift of sight that I was born with, many think I should provide it as free community service. And I would consider it as soon as the electric and gas companies stopped billing me.
The bell on the door jingled later that morning. The man who walked in was tall and round in a suit, a bowler hat atop his head. He looked like he had stepped directly out of the 1920s. He
waddled down the hall toward me.
“Can I help you?” I met him in the doorway, preventing him from entering my small office. I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, but there was something off about the guy.
He removed his hat to reveal a balding head of short gray hair and smiled widely at me. “I need your services, Ms. Troppe. Something of mine has gone missing and it’s of a rather delicate nature.”
“I see. Come into my work room and we can discuss it.”
He moved aside so that I could pass. Though he was jovial, his smile didn’t reach his beady brown eyes.
My work room was large with seating around the outer edge, a work table in the center and maps of the inhabited planets in the four galaxies displayed on the wall. I rarely had the opportunity to search for anything off Earth, but I kept them up just in case the need would arise.
“Please, sit.” I waited for him to sit down before taking a seat, keeping the small side table between us.
“Tell me about the item that you’re looking for.”
“As I said, it’s of a delicate nature. I am in the shipping business and several items from a recent shipment have gone missing, along with my wife.”
“I can’t find people, Mr...”
“Smith.”
Smith. Sure it is.
“I will need more of a description of the items. I have to be able to picture them in order to find them.” I shifted in my seat. There was definitely something not right about this. It was never this difficult to get information from clients. They were usually distraught over the loss.
“There were six black cases, five feet long, two feet deep and a foot tall. That is all that I can tell you.”
“What are in the cases?”
“That is confidential.”
“Where were they last located?”
“I can’t tell you that either.”
