Gringo

by Cass J. McMain

  Ellie smiled and closed the door most of the way, until only half her face was visible. “Gringo was always a good dog. Now don’t be a stranger. I’ll have soup ready later, if you change your mind. I make a good soup. Anyone will tell you that.”

  He felt her eyes on him all the way home. When he got to his front door, he turned and raised a hand to wave, but she had closed the door.

  He threw a sandwich together and sat on the couch, clicking through channels on the TV. Christmas, Christmas, Christmas. The movies, the shows, the ads. He settled on a movie and let it run while he thought about Ellie.

  She’d had no Christmas decorations up. Of course, neither did he. But he had nobody to show off for. It was just him. Maybe she had nobody either. He guessed that must be right. She hadn’t looked like much of a social butterfly. But surely she had someone?

  She’s got the dog. He laughed a little and swigged his beer, wondering how she had managed that without a car. That bothered him a little, but what bothered him more was... why?

  Why? Why on earth would she go right out and get another dog? Because she’d always had one, probably. The dog was a habit, like the way Daniel’s mother always planted a Snowball bush in the front yard of every house they lived in. Daniel stood and went to the window. There was the new Gringo, sitting under the tree like a lawn ornament. Her husband had a dog named Gringo…

  As though he knew he was being watched, Gringo stood up and waved his tail back and forth. He seemed to be staring at Daniel. He opened his mouth and his tongue lolled out but his eyes never shifted focus. Daniel stepped back from the window and dropped the curtain. When he peered out again a moment later, the dog was lying down. Daniel shrugged and went to get another beer. He watched Christmas movies for a while and fell asleep on the couch.

  He woke up just after midnight, and he knew before he looked that Gringo would be lying there right outside his window.

  He was.

  Chapter 14

  The next morning, Daniel looked out the window first thing, sure the dog would still be there. But he wasn’t, for which Daniel was grateful. He pulled his blue jeans on and made coffee. He considered and rejected the idea of making a quick breakfast, deciding he’d ask Margie to bring him something from the kitchen when it opened. He was already running ten minutes late. Thinking over what he’d have, he pulled on a sweater and headed out to the car. Burgers were always a good choice. Maybe they’d have some of those little taquitos left over from last night’s Happy Hour. When he got to the car, he stopped short. There was Gringo, lying by the driver’s side door.

  Daniel found that he was not really surprised. He clapped his hands at the dog and stomped his foot, but all he got out of Gringo was a slight and dismissive ear twitch.

  “Go on. Go!” Daniel stomped again, then looked across the street, hoping Ellie might see him and come call the dog. No such luck. “Out!”

  The dog didn’t even look up at him. Daniel hesitated for a minute and decided he’d try to go over the dog. When he reached for the door handle, Gringo was on his feet in an instant, staring at him. Still not backing away, though. Just standing there, staring. Daniel froze. The animal wasn’t growling, but he didn’t look friendly.

  “What the hell do you want from me?” The dog continued to stare at him, and Daniel kicked out with his foot. “Get lost! Go.”

  Gringo turned slowly and walked back across the street to Ellie’s house. Daniel got in the car and went to work. He was too shaken to order any food when the kitchen opened. It had been bad dealing with a dog that barked all night, but this was almost worse. A dog that never barked, never made a sound, but instead hung out in his yard and stared at him? He’d have to talk to Ellie, get her to keep Gringo over there somehow. Tie him up. Not that he was really afraid of him… but it was creepy. The staring, mostly, that was the thing that bothered him. That stare.

  After the lunch crowd, Daniel had Margie bring him some fries and he picked at them while he worked on the bar inventory. He’d just finished the fries when he heard the voice behind him.

  “Dan, Dan. Bartending Man. Still on the day shift, I see?” Clive pulled himself up onto a stool and drummed his fingers on the bar. “Whiskey, neat.”

  Nodding, Daniel turned around. “Yep. Days for a while yet. Bud’s still out.” He poured Clive’s drink and passed it across the bar.

  Clive picked it up. “Mud in your eye, as they say. Right?” He knocked it back and looked around the bar, then reached for one of the small bar menus and ordered a basket of onion rings. “Not that I need ‘em,” he said, leaning back and patting himself on the belly.

  Daniel glanced down and caught sight of Clive’s belt buckle, an ornate thing with a large turquoise gem in the center. It was six inches wide, with lettering across it. He couldn’t make the letters out, though.

  Clive saw him looking and laughed. “Some buckle, isn’t it?” He unclipped it and drew the belt off, laying it across the bar. “That’s a genuine rodeo buckle. Ever seen one like that?”

  “Were you in the rodeo?”

  “Not so much. It was a gift.” Clive traced his finger across the front of the buckle. “That there’s the Champion buckle, so-called. Friend of mine gave it to me. See this, here?” He lifted the belt up and pointed to the bucking horse that arced over the center gem. “That’s jet stone.” He drew the belt away and put it back on, nodding as the waitress brought out his onion rings. “Jet’s really common, you know, common as dirt. But it makes a very pretty bit of horse. Hey, how’s things with you and your barking dog?”

  Daniel shrugged. “He stopped barking.”

  “Well, good. Glad to hear that, Dan. Glad to hear it.” Clive picked rings out of the basket and ate them one after another. Before he ate the last one, he held it up and winked at Daniel through it. Then he grinned and ordered another whiskey.

  Chapter 15

  When Daniel got home from work, Gringo was sitting in front of his house.

  Jesus. “Get out. Go home. Go!” Daniel tried to shoo the dog away but Gringo was having none of it. He sat there, his tail sweeping the porch slowly, back and forth, back and forth. There was no malice in his eyes, just a flat stare. Daniel wondered what the dog was thinking. Maybe the dog was wondering the same thing about him.

  “Daniel!”

  He turned to look. Ellie was on her porch, waving her bone-thin arms overhead. He waved at her, but her arms didn’t stop signaling. He shrugged and crossed the street, and Gringo followed him.

  “I’m so glad you’re home. I’ve been waiting for you.”

  So has your dog. He nodded but said nothing.

  Ellie went on. “I need you to help me move a dresser, if you don’t mind. It won’t take long.” She took a step to the side and pivoted expectantly, with an after-you gesture.

  He stepped through the doorway and was again struck by the strange smell of the place. Ellie pointed to one of the rooms on the side of the long, narrow hallway. The doorframe was partially blocked by boxes and stacks of magazines, but he managed to step over them without much trouble.

  “This dresser.” Ellie put her knobby hand on the dresser and stroked it like it was a cat. “Help me get it away from the wall a bit. I dropped something behind it and I’ve been trying all day to get it out. Can’t reach it, you see. Stuck.”

  Daniel shifted the dresser away from the wall and looked. But there was more than one item there; the floor behind the dresser was littered with dozens of things.

  Ellie wedged herself in and picked a small, thin box out of the pile. “There. Thank you. Now… well. Look at this mess. Hold on a moment, I’ll get a broom and sweep this out before we put it back.”

  Daniel waited for her, looking around the room. The wall behind the dresser was filthy with dust. In fact, the rest of the wall was filthy as well. Among the items on the floor, he saw a ball of grey yarn, one knitting needle, and a newspaper clipping. Curiosity bent him over and he read a few word
s of an editorial column before noticing an earring half-buried in the wreckage. Its mate was just a couple of inches away. He reached in to gather these up, and set them on the dresser. Clip-ons. He wondered how long they’d been lying there in the dusty darkness. From the look of things, it had been a long, long time. He lifted the edge of the drapes and looked out, but the window was too dirty to see much. It wasn’t locked, either. He reached in through the cobwebs and twisted it, but the latch swiveled around full circle and did nothing.

  Ellie returned with a broom and swept the pile into the corner. When Daniel held out the earrings to her, she pocketed them without a second glance.

  “This place is a shambles. I really do plan to paint it. I bought the paint and everything; I just haven’t gotten around to it. I guess I really must, though. Time gets away, doesn’t it? If you don’t watch it, it just gets away.” She leaned the broom on the wall in the corner near the trash pile and they slid the dresser back to the wall. She looked at it critically and muttered something Daniel couldn’t make out, then turned toward him again, a worried expression on her face.

  “Will you help me move a couple of boxes, while you’re here? I wouldn’t ask, but I’m just not strong enough anymore, you see. It shouldn’t take long.”

  She led him to a room across the hall. It was even dustier and more disorganized-looking than the first room. The walls here were streaked with damage and sported various paint colors. Along one of these walls, boxes were stacked. Daniel counted briefly. Fourteen.

  A couple of boxes. “So where do you want them?”

  “In the other room. With the dresser.” She picked up a small box and took it away, leaving Daniel to follow. He hefted the nearest one and went after her. Ellie didn’t carry any more boxes, but hovered in the hallway watching as he made a few trips. Then she said she was going to get a glass of water.

  Daniel kept shifting boxes. They weren’t heavy, for the most part. Some were taped shut, some not. Some were labeled, some not. More than a few were marked Herb. That must have been her husband, Daniel decided. Underneath one of these, an open box of photos. He picked up a large framed one: a middle-aged man in a suit. He wondered if that was Herb. He looked somewhat strained, smiling the uncomfortable smile of the posed. And here, the same man, with a little girl on his knee. This man’s smile was more genuine. Beneath these, a much younger man sitting on the hood of a car. The same man? No. Daniel looked again, closer, and recognized Ellie’s house in the background. This had been taken in her driveway.

  Ellie came in with a dish towel in one hand and a cigarette in the other. “I think I might…” She trailed off as she saw the picture in his hands, then started again. “I think I might take those two large boxes there right out to the garage.” She stepped forward and took the photo from him and placed it ungently back in the box, face down, and covered it with the dishtowel. “In fact, I should just get rid of a lot of this stuff. Most of it, really.”

  She motioned with her foot toward the two larger boxes she wanted taken to the garage, and when Daniel lifted the first one, she led the way through the kitchen to open the door for him.

  The garage was a mess of boxes and furniture. No car, though there was space enough for one, and a pile of carpet scraps on the floor where one had been. The carpet scraps were there to catch oil drips, Daniel assumed. They’d done that, certainly.

  Ellie spoke from the doorway. “Just set it anywhere. I don’t like going into the garage. It smells bad, like cars. Gasoline and oil.” She made a face and stepped back from the door, and when Daniel got back for the next box she was there already, waiting for him. Her cigarette had been set in an ashtray and left to burn away there, like strange incense. She reached for it and stubbed it out.

  “You may as well take these pictures out as well.” She put her hands on top of the dishtowel and pressed down firmly until there was a slight crunching sound. “I took them down because I need to paint that wall, you see, but I don’t think I feel up to re-hanging them. Any of them. They’re just clutter. The books all say it’s best to have open walls, open spaces.” She pressed down on them again and this time Daniel was sure he heard the glass cracking. “In fact, I left one up but I’ve changed my mind. You can get it down for me.” She pointed to a lone frame hanging on the opposite wall.

  Daniel got the picture down and handed it to her.

  She looked at it. “My mother. Do you see a resemblance?”

  “A little bit. Around the eyes. Especially when you smile.”

  “I look more like her all the time. I wouldn’t mind if I didn’t hate her so much.” Ellie tapped the glass with her fingernail. “That’s a wig, you see. She had hair, but wigs were popular then. All her lady-friends wore wigs, too. They’d come over to play bridge. My brother and I dared each other to pull one of their wigs off, but we never did it.” Ellie laughed briefly, then put the picture on top of the garage-bound boxes. “Her real hair was a lot softer than that wig.”

  He carted the pictures and the other large box to the garage, and when he returned Ellie was leaning on the stack of boxes that remained to be moved. She looked up at Daniel and made a sad face.

  “I’m not feeling well. I think I’ll have a little nap. You don’t mind moving the rest of these by yourself, do you?”

  “Well, no…”

  “Good. Good, thank you. Thank you so much. Here.” She crossed the room and handed him a leather key ring with a daisy painted on it. “This is a spare key for the front door. Just lock it when you leave, if you would.”

  Daniel took the key. “Where do you want me to—” But Ellie shook her head and moved off, thanking him again.

  He moved the rest of the boxes to the other room as quietly as he could manage, and locked the door behind him when he left.

  Chapter 16

  The next day, he stepped over Gringo on his way out to work, and stepped over him again when he got home. Gringo had seemingly spent the entire day napping on his porch.

  Daniel had no way of knowing that was true. It might have been the case that the animal had left for a time, and returned to his house just before he got home. But somehow, he suspected it hadn’t been like that. He guessed he could ask Greg. If anyone would know, it would be Greg. In fact, he might not even have to ask.

  He made a sandwich and watched some television, thinking about Ellie. He should probably check in on her, and take her key back, or at least try to. If she answered the door. Maybe he’d bring up the dog issue, as well.

  Daniel crossed the street, and Gringo padded after him. He knocked, then waited, looking at the address numbers over the defunct doorbell. He could hardly see them, they had been painted over so many times. 4444. Just a few off from his own, which should have been unsurprising but wasn’t. The whole house was grey. The trim and the sides too, one darker than the other, one lighter. Grey and grey and grey. He gave up on Ellie answering his knock and turned away, but then she opened the door.

  “Daniel. Do you need something? Please come in.” She stepped back from the door and smiled. She was wearing sweat pants that were covered in dust and paint and an old t-shirt with stains all over it. “I’ve been cleaning. Or trying to.”

  “I just wanted to give you your key back.” He held it out to her, but she seemed not to notice it.

  “Thank you so much for helping with those boxes. I’ve done some painting… come see.”

  He followed her to the room and looked at the paint job she’d done. It was terrible. She’d only done one wall, and missed great swathes of it. She’d managed to keep paint off the floor, but not off the light switches. And the fresh paint stopped about two feet from the ceiling. The color was a yellowy-white that didn’t seem to do much for the room. At least it wasn’t grey.

  Daniel couldn’t hide the look on his face, and Ellie laughed. “I can’t see very well. And the ladder… I just don’t like to climb up very high. I’m not as young as I was, you see.” She paused and looke
d at him. “It’s pretty bad, isn’t it?”

  “Well…” It was the worst paint job he’d ever seen in his life, but he didn’t feel right saying so. “It’s a bit uneven.”

  Ellie bit her lip and looked at the wall. Then she brightened. “Will you help me? Paint it for me? I’ll pay you!”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” Daniel cast about for an excuse. “I, um… I’m not a very good painter…”

  She laughed. “Oh, please. Look at this mess. I’m a worse painter than you are, I’m very sure. I really need the help. We’re trying to sell the house, and they say fresh paint makes a real difference.” She put her hands together in a prayer-like gesture. “Please? I can pay. A hundred dollars? One-fifty?”

  He rubbed his eyes. What the hell. He owed her that much, probably, after what he’d done. He agreed to come on his day off and help her. It would give him a chance to talk with her about the dog problem. And, he realized, it should be to his benefit: if she sold the house and moved away, the dog problem would go with her.

  “One-fifty, done and did. You still have that key, so you can let yourself in if I don’t hear you knocking.”

  They agreed that Daniel would be there the Wednesday before Christmas, nice and early.

  “If you need painting clothes, I have plenty. My husband was about your size.” Ellie looked Daniel up and down. “I’d offer you his suits, but I doubt you’d want them. Well out of style. You don’t look like a suit man anyway. Bartender, you said, right?”

  “It’s fine. I have stuff to wear. Do you have all the paint and brushes, and everything? Tape?”

  She pointed at several gallons of paint. “I fished some brushes and stuff out of the back closet, but I know he had more in the garage. I don’t know what all’s out there. You can look, though. He— you can look and see. I’m sure there’s lots of things.” She rubbed her bony elbows and moved toward the thermostat. “It’s cold in here. Don’t you think? I try to keep the heat down, for the gas bill. But I’m freezing.”