Chihuahua Karma

by Rice, Debby

  Mrs. Lin turned the radio up to full volume. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir was singing in Korean. Impossible, but that is how it sounded.

  “That my favorite hymn,” she chirped and began humming along.

  “Sugar doggie, you wake up. No more sleeping. I got surprise for you,” Mrs. Lin chuckled and shook the basket. I felt her rearrange laundry to nestle something beside me. When I opened my eyes, I saw Sugar reflected in two shiny plastic discs. A fuzzy black-and-white blob had usurped my space. Mrs. Lin was gazing down at me expectantly. So I guessed that this was a gift of some sort. Before my arrival, Mrs. Lin’s little dog had been a much livelier companion. The former Sugar was happy to play endless games of fetch and tug-of-war to keep her mistress company while Tong cruised the neighborhood. These activities left me depressed and exhausted. I refused to chase a flayed rubber ball or wrestle with a slimy plastic bone. This unusual apathy was driving Mrs. Lin crazy. My only real pleasure was the passive-aggressive thrill of making her even more frantic by ignoring whatever treats she dangled in front of me.

  I sniffed the latest offering. The only odor was the smell of chemical cleanliness that pervades the Lucky Dream. I stood up to get a better perspective. After eyeing the lump from several directions, I identified my new roommate as a stuffed Dalmatian. When I indicated my displeasure by shoving the plush intruder away with my nose, something clicked inside the creature’s body. The tinny duo of Sonny and Cher singing “I Got You Babe” filled the room with retro good cheer. The tape looped on and on endlessly.

  Mrs. Lin smiled down at me, “See, Sugar sweetheart, I brought you girlfriend. Now you not be lonely anymore.”

  “Turn that thing off,” said Tong. “It’s awful.”

  I had to agree. Hippies competing with the Mormons were destroying any possibility of reviving my dream of Richard.

  “Guy at Pet World say dogs love music. You watch. This gonna give Sugar old-self zing.”

  “If I knew you would get so crazy about that dog, I never would have let Shorty Block off the hook for that $3,000 he owed me. A goddamn mini Chi. Worst bargain I ever made in my life.”

  “You gonna give me trouble about Sugar?” said Mrs. Lin raising an eyebrow.

  Tong did not respond. How often when I was a Number 1 Best Customer had I heard Mrs. Lin sigh and say, “Sugar only thing that keep me going.” If Tong wanted to keep his place at the poker table, he knew better than to nag his wife about her surrogate child.

  Feeling her power, Mrs. Lin continued, “Sugar been so sleepy and sad. Maybe she got heartworm. I think you take her to vet today.”

  The idea of Tong being entrusted to take me anywhere was frightening. But imagining my paws skittering on a steel table in a futile attempt to avoid the thermometer pointed at my rump was unthinkable. The veterinarian’s office conjured a chamber of horrors. I was immediately seized by an uncontrollable case of shivers.

  “Ruby, you seen my to-do list?” said Tong. “The car needs an oil change. I promised to take Edmund to RadioShack, and there’s a big race at Hawthorne.”

  “What, I only multitasker in this family?” said Mrs. Lin. “You can’t do more than three things in eight hours? You want to stay here and watch store? Okay. I go.”

  Just then, Mrs. Lin looked down at my basket.

  “Tong, you got to do something. Look at that. She having seizure.”

  I tried to stop the shaking, but it was beyond my control. Fortunately, Mrs. Lin’s attention was diverted by the cacophony of tiny bells announcing a customer.

  I had imagined this moment before, but I had never truly considered how I might react. My fur bristled and my ears shot up. Before me stood Zoya. She was dressed in my favorite Juicy Couture jeans and pink . In her arms was an enormous pyramid of dirty clothing. I immediately recognized Larry’s scent mingled in the garments Zoya deposited on the counter.

  “You believe all these clothes? They don’t wear nothing twice. Americans—so wasteful,” said Zoya, never one to bother with superfluous pleasantries like good morning or hello.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” said Mrs. Lin. “How you doing? I not see you since Missy Paget’s accident. So sad. She always nice lady. I heard was drugs. Just goes to show, even rich people got problem.”

  “Yes, I pray that she rests in the arms of Jehovah,” Zoya replied primly.

  Mrs. Lin, who knows how to please her customers, responded with a hearty, “Praise the Lord.”

  Meanwhile, I jumped out of the basket and ran in circles around Zoya. Every cell in my body yearned for her to know that I was not resting with Jehovah. I was here, right now, wagging my tail. I climbed up her leg and licked her hand. She tasted salty, like herring or caviar.

  Zoya hates dogs, but she did not want to offend Mrs. Lin. She discreetly dried her hand on my former jeans and brushed me off. I assaulted her again. I was seized with the wild and unreasonable hope that she would recognize me and take me home. Of course, my display of canine enthusiasm was pointless. Zoya’s face remained blank as a turnip.

  “Sugar really like you,” said Mrs. Lin. “You want to pick her up?”

  Zoya looked at Mrs. Lin as if she had asked her to cradle a cockroach. “Nyet,” she replied, frowning. She gave her head a little toss of disgust that sent her ponytail over her shoulder. Something shiny next to her face caught my eye. There, glittering on Zoya’s ears, were the diamond studs Richard had given me for my 30th birthday. They were small, so Charmaine would not have wanted them. Although it was difficult, I could accept the practicality of recycling my wardrobe. But seeing Zoya wearing Richard’s last gift to me felt as though she had stolen a piece of my soul.

  After a final reminder to the Lins that Jesus saves, Zoya took her receipt and sashayed out the door, making sure we admired the fit of her newly acquired jeans. Breathless and panting, I watched Mrs. Lin sort the clothes. She dumped Larry’s shirts in one pile. I saw the tie that I had bought him and the sport jacket we had picked out together at Saks go into another pile. Then she extracted a red silk dress, or perhaps it was a slip. Dangling it by a spaghetti strap, she inspected for spots.

  With a look to Tong, she said, “That bastard already got new woman.” Under her breath, she whispered, “They all same.”

  I heard and thought, “YES, YES, YES!” In this moment, Mrs. Lin was my sister.

  As she dropped the dress into a pile for delicates, I was inspired by anger and outrage. I walked over to it. I gave it a sniff to get my adrenaline pumping. Then I scrunched it up under my haunches and squatted. Emptying my bladder over Charmaine’s fuck-me dress filled me with satisfaction. I realized that I had been despondent too long. Revenge is as good as drugs. My body tingled. I vowed that Larry and Charmaine, and even Zoya, would share my suffering.

  I’d had half a bowl of water and was able to make a puddle about the diameter of an orange somewhere in the area where Charmaine’s navel would be. As I completed my mission, Mrs. Lin looked down.

  “Sugar, what wrong with you? Bad dog. Bad dog. I never get this clean.” She grabbed a People magazine and rolled it into a tube. I cringed, waiting for the blow. Instead she brought the magazine down hard on the counter. “You do wee-wee on designer dress. You think I wave magic wand and this spot disappear?” she screamed. “Tong, this dog sick. You get her to vet today. You understand, TODAY!”

  Mrs. Lin’s face was red, and tears made tracks in her pancake makeup. Before I had a chance to hide, Tong, who hates a scene, had scooped me up and headed out the door.

  He forgot my leash and my cage. I was riding perilously in his arms. I wondered if what seemed like disaster might actually be opportunity. Could I bite his bicep, force him to drop me and run away? I’d already had one unlucky fall. And, besides, how does an animal smaller than a rat survive on the streets of Chicago? I realized there would be no possibility of escape without a plan. When the next chance came, I would be ready.

  Chapter 3

  “Whenever I am born in every life to come, may I meet again m
y Guardian Angel of this life! Speaking and understanding the moment I am born, may I…remember my former lives!” The Tibetan Book of the Dead

  We moved down Division Street at a rapid pace. When we approached a metallic blue Saturn, Tong opened the back door and threw me in. I curled into a ball and pretended to sleep. The terror of visiting the vet took a momentary backseat to my pleasure at riding in the car. I imagined having legs and arms. How lovely it would be to sit up straight and look out the window. I longed for my former life with the envy of the terminally ill.

  The smells and the motion of the car provided a string of clues about our route. There was the wet, green scent of the park. Then gasoline fumes on the expressway. We drove for about half an hour. The farther we went, the less likely it seemed that this trip had anything to do with me. I had never been to the vet, but I imagined the office would be within walking distance. I had even allowed myself the outrageous fantasy that Sugar’s vet might be Richard. But it was doubtful that Richard’s charm could trump Mrs. Lin’s fierce preference for all things Korean.

  We exited the expressway and moved into stop-and-go traffic, passing through a geography of scents that included fast food, garbage and the stench of industrial chemicals. After about 10 minutes, Tong pulled over. He got out, slammed the door and left me there. I relaxed a little more. I heard Tong’s footsteps on the sidewalk. Then, singsong door chimes.

  “Tong, my man. Come on in and have a brewski. Suzie’s at the mall.”

  “How’s it going, CJ?” Tong said. Then the door slammed.

  I buried deeper into the humidity of the plastic seat and prepared to wait for Tong’s return. I was just beginning to doze when I felt a thud on the passenger side of the car. It was like being hit with a sack of cement.

  I looked up into the face of the devil. A blunt snout was wedged into the crack in the window. The animal was possessed. Guttural groans came from his throat. One wild red eye was directly focused on me. The other stared crazily into space. His paws slipped against glass as he tried to open the window wider. The air was filled with the scent of his gamey breath. A gobbet of hot drool landed on my head.

  “Hey, CJ, that dog’s scratching the hell out of my car! Get him off!” screamed Tong.

  “Down, Viagra. Down, boy. Tong, what’s in that car that’s got him so excited?”

  “Oh, must be my wife’s mini Chi.”

  “Hey, that’s great, man. Take her out. Let Viagra get a sniff. He’s in training. You wanna see how I condition him?”

  “Okay, but we got to be careful. Ruby’s gonna kill me if anything happens to her dog.”

  “No problem buddy. I know what I’m doing. He just needs to get a whiff of her.”

  I jumped off the seat and cowered on the floor. Tong’s hands grasped me around the middle. I couldn’t believe this was happening. Viagra was a brindled monster. His chest was massive. His rump rode higher than his boxy head. I yelped and wriggled. Tong dangled me over Viagra. Then I went limp. I wanted to close my eyes, but like a child at the top of a Ferris wheel, there was a paralyzing fascination in watching the writhing creature beneath me. He was on his hind legs, muscles twitching. The jumping and lunging got higher and higher. Tong was holding me over his head, afraid to lower his arms.

  “CJ, call him off. He’s gonna bite me.”

  “Don’t be a pussy. He’s just having fun.”

  Just then, Viagra crouched low on his haunches and sprang forward. Tong jumped back and lost his grip. I sailed over his head. In that awful spinning moment, I wondered what kind of devolved horror a second death might bring.

  “Jesus Christ, CJ,” I heard Tong yell. “Get his collar before he kills Ruby’s dog.”

  The bushes around CJ’s house broke my fall. I slipped through a thicket and landed in the dirt. The hedge stopped Viagra just long enough for CJ to get a hand on his collar.

  “Easy, boy.” Then he laughed like this was the funniest thing he’d seen in a long time. “I know you want that little cocktail weenie, but she’s got to go home to Mrs. L. We’ll find something juicier for you to chew on.”

  Tong extracted me from a tangle of branches. He looked me over for damage and stuffed me in the pocket of his jacket. Although I felt bruised and sore, there didn’t seem to be any injuries.

  “Jeez, that was close. I’m telling you, Ruby loves this dog. Listen, I came by to make a drop-off. I got $500 for you. I know it’s not much, but I got a sucker who’s looking for action. We’re playing tomorrow afternoon. I might be able to get the whole $20,000.” This was said in the wheedling tone Tong uses with Mrs. Lin when he’s about to grab cash from the till and disappear.

  He tossed CJ a grimace meant to pass for a smile, licked his lips and did a little soft-shoe scuffle. This clownish behavior doesn’t impress Mrs. Lin, and it clearly was not having a positive effect on CJ either. I watched his heavy features abruptly rearrange themselves. His eyes locked on Tong, fixing him in their crosshairs. The blubbery lips thinned and his nostrils narrowed.

  “Hey, man, don’t be the comedian.” CJ punched Tong’s shoulder just hard enough to make him take a step backward. “This is serious shit. You don’t play poker that good. You were supposed to have that money last week. I got some badass motherfuckers breathing down my neck. I can’t keep them off you forever,” he said, hiking up his jeans. “I thought you were gonna take out a second mortgage on the store. I did you a special favor, cause of Suzie. Leave me hanging with these guys, and you’ll never hang right again.”

  Tong, it seemed, was a greater liability than either Suzie or Edmund. I wasn’t surprised to learn that a loan shark was financing his poker habit. But I felt sorry for Mrs. Lin and apprehensive for myself. I was a hostage. Mrs. Lin was my jailer, but she was also my caretaker. She fed me, brushed me and dressed me. I didn’t like knowing that the Lucky Dream was resting on a house of cards.

  “CJ, you know I’m not gonna let you down. But I got to get back home now. Ruby thinks I’m taking the dog to the vet.”

  “Is it sick?”

  “Nah, I don’t think so. Lately, it just sleeps all the time and won’t eat much. Dogs get like that sometimes, you know.”

  “My dogs don’t. They always want to eat.”

  “You think something’s wrong with it?” Tong took me out of his pocket and turned me this way and that.

  “Maybe,” said CJ, eyeing me. “She looks pretty skinny, and her coat’s dull. Why’s she shaking like that?”

  There was something deeply shameful in this scrutiny. I felt like they were looking at me naked.

  “She does that all the time.”

  “I think you should take her in. That’s an expensive dog. You don’t want anything to happen to her.”

  “I’m not sure what vet Ruby uses.”

  “Take her to my guy. He’s down by your place.” CJ took a pen out of his shirt pocket. Then he fumbled in his pants and pulled out a matchbook. He ripped the cover off and wrote something on the inside. “Here’s his name and address. He takes walk-ins, but you might have to wait a while. And, Tong, don’t play poker. Don’t bet ponies. Pay a visit to your friendly neighborhood banker. Then come see me.” CJ made a gun out of his thumb and index finger, pointed at Tong and flicked his wrist, then he morphed back into an affable lump.

  “You got it, CJ. You’re my man. Take good care of my little Suzie.”

  Tong got into the car and turned the key. I lay in the backseat, panting and exhausted. I could tell he was upset. He was driving like an angry cabbie, speeding up and then slamming on the brakes. I braced myself against the door to keep from falling off the seat. Finally, we parked. Tong reached in back, scooped me up and dropped me in his pocket again. Peering over the rim, I could see we were on Rush Street. Richard’s office was just down the block, and Tong was walking in that direction. Happiness was so foreign to me that when we stopped in front of Richard’s building, I almost didn’t recognize the swelling in my heart. I thought I might be dreaming again. Tong stu
died the row of doorbells and rang one.

  “You got to calm down,” he said, looking at me. “You’re shaking like a sick old lady. You better not piss in my pocket.”

  The door buzzed, and we went in. Tong was climbing the stairs excruciatingly slowly. I couldn’t stand the waiting. I pressed my paws against the hem of his pocket and steadied my hind legs, trying to get leverage to jump. Just as I was about to spring, a glance down brought me back to reality. The drop was too far and the stairs were too steep for me to navigate. When we reached the top, I instantly picked out Richard’s scent. It was a wisp of citrus almost obscured by the feral odors of dog and cat. My heart was beating hard enough to make my whole body pulse. Then, to my horror, Tong turned left instead of right. I wanted to shout, “No!” Instead, I began barking.

  “Hey, you cut that out,” said Tong. “Vet’s gonna give you a tranquilizer if you don’t shut up.”

  I continued to bark. I barked as loudly as I ever had before.

  “Shut up. You want to bring down the building?”

  I couldn’t stop.

  “I’m not taking you in there if you keep barking like that,” Tong said, shaking his finger at me.

  “Good,” I thought and kept on yelping. I made a little lunge as if to snap, intentionally missing his finger.

  “You little creep. Don’t you dare do that again.”

  Just as I ran out of breath, the door at Richard’s end of the hall opened, and there he stood. In that moment, I understood what it means to be overwhelmed. I experienced the emotional confusion that can happen at a wedding or a funeral. I was so filled with joy, nostalgia and sorrow that it became impossible to distinguish one from the other. I felt as though I had been released from Sugar in the way that air rushes out of a balloon and that I was standing beside Tong instead of huddled in his pocket. I imagined I could stretch out my arm and touch Richard’s sleeve.