by Bobby D. Lux
Within minutes, the races continued once more inside the stadium. As I walked out, the Public Address Announcer explained that there would be no refunds on the tenth race and that the results stood. Nipper and Ernie were forcibly escorted out of the stadium by a trio of Irish Setters, confirming for me a long standing rumor that it was indeed the Irish who pulled the strings behind the scenes at the cat races.
Their scratches and cuts weren’t as bad as I thought they’d be. Beyond a long scratch on the top of Ernie’s head, nothing else was visible on him. Nipper had a few marks along his sidewall, but they’d both be fine. Ernie looked exhausted.
“What was that line you said about having my back?” Nipper said. “Because all I saw was me going up to Clay and then when Ernie was in trouble and needed help… Hey Ernie, did you see Fritz out there trying to peel any cats off of you?”
“Nope,” Ernie said. “Wait, you saw Clay? And you sent Nipper after him? That doesn’t make any sense. No offense, Nipper.”
“None taken, believe me,” Nipper said.
“I was undercover,” I said. “I thought I explained that already.”
“You weren’t undercover when Clay saw you,” Nipper said.
“What happened?” Ernie said.
“Nothing,” Nipper said.
“Aw, come on. Tell me.”
“I did,” Nipper said. “Nothing. Nothing happened. He didn’t do a thing.”
“That’s not true,” I said.
“Oh, it’s not?” Nipper said. “Maybe you should explain what exactly it was you did because we both risked our necks out there and, now while I did see you sitting on that bench, clutching it like a puppy who caught his first stick, and I know Ernie and me aren’t big time cops, but if there was something else you were doing there, please enlighten us.”
“Was it your leg?” Ernie said.
“He was scared,” Nipper said.
“You guys don’t understand what I’m going through,” I said.
“What you’re going through?” Nipper said. “What you’re going through? What about what we’re going through? Ever since you’ve graced our lives with your presence, you know what we’ve gone through? Huh? We left our home because of you. We haven’t had a real meal in days because of you. I made a spectacle of myself in front of everyone I know because of you. Scarlet thinks I’m a fool because of you. We’ve been chasing criminals and hanging out with lowlifes because of you. Ernie was forced into a cat race and then attacked and you have me doing your dirty work, so no, I guess we don’t know what you’re going through.”
“We were so close,” Ernie said, as he sat down and struggled to reach his wounds to lick them. “I had that little jerk right where I wanted him. Little weasel. Man, one more second. So, what’s our next move? We got ‘em on the run.”
“There is no next time,” Nipper said. “We’re going home.”
“He’s right,” I said. “You guys should go back home.”
“But Fritz? Wait, Nipper. I know you’re mad, I mean, look, I’m mad too, but it’s not Fritz’ fault-”
“Yes it is,” Nipper said. “One hundred percent it is. You didn’t see him up there. I’m not exaggerating when I said that he did nothing. He just sat there and threw us to the wolves.”
“Go home,” I said. “I’m sorry. Get yourself cleaned up.”
“Aren’t you coming with us?” Ernie said.
“I don’t have a home,” I said. “I don’t deserve one.”
“You got us,” Ernie said.
“Nope,” I said. “I don’t have anybody.”
“Then if that’s how you feel,” Ernie said. “Nipper, let’s get out of here. Those Setters said we had a few minutes to disappear or they’d make us disappear for good.”
“Fine with me,” Nipper said. “Let’s go.”
“You sure you don’t want to go home?” Ernie said, as I turned around and walked away. I didn’t care where I went or where I ended up. I’d never left Grand City. Never in my life. I may have been on a call in a neighboring city or driven through one on a vehicle pursuit, but I’d gone to bed and woken up every day of my life in Grand City. Always in service for someone else.
I’d thought all along that I was Odysseus on my path back home. As the stadium, as well as Nipper and Ernie, fell into the abyss of my periphery, I acknowledged what I had always known. I assumed that all I had to do on this quest was to avoid humans, not get run over, catch Clay, and then it would be done. I’d go back to my home. It had to end that way. It just had to.
My home, and the only home I ever wanted to go back to wasn’t in Officer Hart’s backyard. Up until that exact second before Clay looked down at me, I thought Grand City P.D. would take me back. They’d see the error of their ways and would welcome me back to my kennel. I would pick up right where I’d left off. Once they all saw how I’d brought down Clay, they’d know that they had acted in haste and that nothing was wrong with me and that I was better than ever; better than any other dog they had chomping at the bit in training. That was my home and that’s where I was going.
Then with no warning and in the wag of a tail, my blinders were tossed aside and I acknowledged what I knew all along: they’d replaced me with a dog who was younger, faster, and a stronger version of me at my best. The same way I had done to Lincoln with no apologies a lifetime ago.
They didn’t care about you and they never did. No matter how well you did your job and regardless of your record, all you ever were was a potential liability. You anxiously waited your turn until you became the weak link in the chain. Then they fixed the chain and threw away the old parts. The only thing you could do was prolong the inevitable because nobody came out unscathed. Everyone gets replaced and tossed away.
The moment they decided that your service was no longer up to par, you ceased to exist. You’re no longer a living, breathing creature who feels joy and friendship and fear and anger, you’re a service provider. That’s what you we’re there for. To make someone else’s job easier.
Let’s say that it had played out at the track the way it should have. That I didn’t procrastinate when I saw Scamper dressed like a fool in that pen. I should have never dragged Nipper and Ernie into it to begin with. I had already hedged my bets. I was just another gambler at the track.
If I’d done it the way I should have, I’d have hurdled that fence and tore the costume off Scamper. I’d have squeezed him up against the corner of his pen so hard that he could barely exhale. I’d have demanded right there for him to tell me where Clay was and that if he tried to stall I’d bite one of his nails off. Answer me! Where is he?
Fritz, I don’t know what you-
Clay would announce that he was right behind me. I’d drop the quivering sack and go after Clay with no fancy talk. I’d take out his legs. I’d waste no time paying him back by closing my mouth on his knee. His bones would crumble in my mouth. As he yelped in agony, I’d pin his neck down with extreme prejudice.
I’d tear him open and show him to that reporter. I’d challenge her to use every adjective she had in her arsenal to describe it. The other dogs, who at first were excited for me to take Clay down, would tell me that enough was enough. I’d dare them to stop me and I’d make them take pity on Clay; take pity on what was left of him and then to tell every dog they knew in Grand City to be afraid of me.
Would that make me a cop again? All that would prove was that I was just a dog. A cop wouldn’t behave like that. No matter what course of action I took at the cat races, I was nothing.
I was not Odysseus. I was not on a quest. I wasn’t going home. I was old. I was beaten down. I was tired. I was Argos. I waited for my master to come home. And then I was going to roll over and die.
I thought about Nipper and Ernie on their way back home as they reentered the maze of homes on that cool night. They were lucky. They had their little piece of land that was theirs, the backyard. Ernie took his time, using his scratches as an excuse, saying his legs were tired fr
om the race. He was just in no hurry to get back. He suggested that they stopped on the way to visit Scarlet and Saucy.
“Sure,” Nipper said. “If you want to go say hi, let’s go.”
Ernie woke up Saucy by scratching the fence. She was excited to see him even if it was just through a broken piece of a wooden fence.
“Shouldn’t you be on your big case?” Saucy said. “What are you even doing here?”
“I just wanted to come by and visit,” Ernie said. “We haven’t played together for awhile.”
“And whose fault is that?” Saucy said.
“You think it’s mine?” Ernie says.
“Well, it’s not mine.”
“He needed our help.”
“Where is he? Should I wake Scarlet?”
“He’s not coming home,” Ernie said.
“Is he-” she said, gasping.
“No. He’s fine. Or so he says he is. There wasn’t much else we could do, so we left. He didn’t want to come. Whatever. You should have seen me though, Saucy. You would’ve loved it. Nipper made me look like a cat and then we snuck into the cat races and I was doing really good chasing after this dog who was a real jerk, but then it turned into a huge mess and the cats attacked me and the dogs in the stands went crazy and then Nipper had to come help me and then they threw us out of the track. And Nipper, he got right in the face of Clay, the Clay. Not even Fritz did that, but Nipper did. Oh, and I saw Knox and Gash too.”
“I think you guys should leave,” Saucy said.
“What? Why?”
“I don’t want to hear about what a great time you’ve been having while I’ve been stuck here with the beauty queen.”
“I thought you’d appreciate the story. I thought you’d be happy for me.”
“See you later, Ernie,” Saucy said. With no other stops to make, Nipper and Ernie walked in silence the rest of the way home until they got back to their street and Nipper stopped.
“Do you think I’m brave, Ernie?” Nipper said.
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“It’s a yes or no question. Just be honest with me. I heard what you said to Saucy.”
“Yeah, sure, Nipper.”
“Really? You think I have guts?”
“Sure, Nipper. The way you jumped in there when those cats were clawing at me was pretty cool.”
“But those were just cats. You don’t think I’m a coward?”
“You went up and sat right next to Clay when Fritz wouldn’t, that took some courage. Hey, it’s not like you need to impress me or nothing. But to answer your question, no Nipper, I do not think that you are a coward.”
“So much for one last adventure, huh? We’ll have to do it again sometime, right?”
“We’ll see,” Ernie said. “I don’t know.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Why was Saucy so mad at me? And why do I care so much?”
“I don’t know, Ernie. I don’t know. You’re probably asking the wrong dog to give you any advice about that stuff. You think I could have been a cop?”
“I don’t know Nipper. Why does that matter?”
“Just wanted to ask.” They continued and passed under a streetlight right out in front of the Hart house on the corner. A rattling came from behind them.
“What do you think, Clay?” Scamper said, as Nipper and Ernie turned around and were inches away from an angry Clay and Scamper. “Could he have been a cop? I don’t think they’d ever let a pathetic mutt like him wear a badge.”
“Watch your mouth,” Ernie said.
“Tough talk from such a little dog,” Clay said.
“What do you two want?” Nipper said.
“Where’s Fritz?” Clay said. Nipper looked to Ernie for what to say and do. “Let me rephrase the question. Where’s that broken down, hobbling, ghost of a dog? Last thing I was going to do was tear his throat out with a hundred witnesses. But two witnesses? I can handle that.”
“We don’t know where he is,” Nipper said, with too much gumption. Ernie closed his eyes and took a deep breath knowing what kind of mistake Nipper had just made. “In fact, we haven’t seen him in hours since we left the track.”
“That’s too bad,” Clay said.
“Yeah,” Nipper said. “You’ll have to keep looking somewhere else.”
“That’s not what we had in mind,” Scamper said.
“I wasn’t just looking for Fritz,” Clay said. “The two of you cost me a lot of bones today.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have been cheating,” Nipper said. “Then we wouldn’t have had to do anything. Besides, we don’t have any bones between the two of us, so again, you’ll just have to go somewhere else.”
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” Clay said. “Because now I get to have a little bit of fun.”
“Yeah, it’s time for us to have a bit of fun,” Scamper said, chiming in safely behind Clay.
“Just know that I can hurt you too,” Ernie said, his voice trembling as he positioned himself in front of Nipper and faced Clay. “You can bet on that.”
“No, you can’t,” Clay said, circling Nipper and Ernie as he closed what little distance was left between them with each turn. Ernie crouched down, ready to strike, while Clay strolled nonchalantly. He drew an invisible wall around Nipper and Ernie. In a moment of pure desperation or genius, Nipper barked non-stop as loud as he could.
“You trying to scare him?” Scamper said. “You must be the most inept mutt I’ve ever seen. Look at him. You’re going to strain your itty-bitty little voice there. Why can’t a dog just shut up and get mauled with honor? Why is that I wonder?”
Nipper was in his own world. He barked with a passion he’d never felt before. Like he knew that suddenly there was a good chance he’d never see tomorrow unless he kept shouting with everything he had. The sheer volume began to unnerve Clay and made him stop his rounding. He lowered down to attack.
The light on the front porch of Officer Hart’s house flipped on and sent a cloud of light behind Nipper and Ernie that flooded Clay. Officer Hart appeared in pajama pants. He took a few steps beyond the porch with his hand extended parallel to his brow like he was staring into the sun. He said “ow” as he stepped onto a particularly pointed piece of cracked driveway. Nipper slowed the pace of his manic barks and let out a final barrage in deliberate secession.
“Nipper?” Officer Hart said. “Is that you? Come here. Where’s Fritz?”
Clay turned his locked jaw towards Officer Hart and approached.
“Leave him alone,” Ernie said.
“If I were you,” Scamper said, “I wouldn’t look this gift horse in the mouth and I’d take the chance to escape.”
“Get out of here,” Officer Hart said, to Clay, who responded with a growl. Officer Hart swore to himself and reached down for the hose curled up in front of the house. He pointed it at Clay, put his thumb partially over the spout, and turned on the water full blast. Clay stopped at the end of the empty driveway just outside the range of the water. Officer Hart flipped his wrist up and sent a freezing waterfall onto Clay’s head. While Clay shook the dripping water away from his eyes, Nipper took off and made it into the house. Ernie followed but stayed next to Officer Hart at the start of the driveway.
“Aww, sorry about your plans,” Ernie said.
“This isn’t over,” Clay said, as Officer Hart blasted him straight on in the chest. Clay backed off the sidewalk into the street.
“Get the other one too,” Ernie barked, to Officer Hart. “Get him too. Right in the face. Give him pneumonia.”
“Okay,” Officer Hart said, as he gave Ernie the single best and most relaxing pair of behind-the-ear scratches he’d ever felt in his life. “Calm down, Ernie. They’re going away. We got ‘um. I’d hose the runt down but he was smart enough to run away across the street. Come on, let’s go back inside and get you guys some food.”
As Ernie went inside, and while Officer Hart rolled the hose back up, the Intimi
dator pulled into the driveway. Mrs. Hart held her face in her hands for a long moment before shutting the engine off and getting out of the car. She took a few stumbled steps before she stopped in front of Officer Hart.
“Why is the driveway all wet?” Mrs. Hart said.
“Where were you?” Officer Hart said. “I was worried.”
“I told you I was working.”
“Do you think I’m stupid?”
“Are you going to explain to me what you’re doing up this late? Don’t you have to be at work in three hours?”
“Those aren’t the clothes you went to work in.”
“I brought a change for after the gym,” Mrs. Hart said.
“You brought clothes for after the gym that are nicer than what you went to work in? Is that your story? Are you going to stick to that? I’m tired of this. The dogs are home. I think Fritz is out here too somewhere. I’m going to look for him.”
Mrs. Hart walked past the two of them. She tried and failed to stand erect and walked like a zombie.
“That’s a good boy,” Mrs. Hart said, to Ernie, as she patted him too hard on the top of his head like a bongo player. “You’re a good doggy, Ernie. You were always my favorite. I like you.”
CHAPTER 22 - Life is a Jung Man’s Game
Meanwhile, my wandering took me to the edge of town to the North Grand City Industrial Train Depot on the other side of the Trio-3 Screen Drive-In where a dozen or so men tried to both work and stay awake. The ones who succeeded in their endeavor hadn’t noticed the hobbling dog who passed through.
A loading area three train cars back from the end was void of any human activity. The ramp that led to the next to last car was still lowered down. I decided to open my eyes somewhere beyond Grand City for the first time in my life. No one saw me sneak onto the half-empty car. No one saw me find a spot to hide in between the crates, which were placed in the car with no apparent intent or design.
I found a spot in the corner and wanted to be asleep before the train awoke. I heard a shuffle and a thump like something else had jumped onto the train. I couldn’t smell anything but I felt a weight on me that told me I wasn’t alone. Something followed me.