Puppy Love

Chapter 2: Some Bite-1

Chapter 2: Some BiteThe next morning, I awoke with a start to Bark barking his head off at the front door. I blearily glanced at the clock and saw it was just after four.

Grumbling, I rolled out of bed and padded to the living room.

“What? What are you barking at?”

“Bark! Bark bark! Bark!”

“Oh, really?” I opened the door into the stairwell of the building and found a copy of The King Gazette propped up against the doorframe. Anger immediately welled inside me. “Damn it. I told them to cancel it.”

I snatched the paper, slammed the door shut, and stalked to the kitchen, where I took off the rubber band and threw the whole thing in the recycling bin, unread. “How many times do I have to tell them?”

Bark followed me the whole way, looking a little reluctant to approach me in my bad mood. I snagged a quick drink of water, then laid in bed to get a bit more sleep. I imagined doing something horrible to get blacklisted from the newspaper’s delivery system. Maybe if I wiped with it instead of toilet paper, they’d get the hint. Plus, it would be a better use than reading it.

Bark jumped on the bed and joined me, lying by my feet this time. I remembered that Sean used to tell me I would kick sometimes in my sleep. I hoped I didn’t do that to Bark.

* * * *

I woke just after eight o’clock to Bark standing over my face, whining.

I sighed. “I suppose you need to pee?”

Bark jumped around as if to prove how desperate he was to go outside.

I put on pants and threw on a ballcap, then went out to the tiny front yard. He spent less time wandering around and sniffing everything, and more time just lying in the yard, basking in the early June morning sun.

The front door opened and Gretchen stepped out, her large sun hat flapping in the wind. Bark stood and gave a little growl. I grinned at him. What a good dog.

“Hi, Ash! Oh, my God…did you get a dog?” Gretchen quickly approached Bark. He stood, tail still, as she started to pet him without holding out her hand to him first.

“No, he wandered up to me yesterday. I tried to get a hold of his owner, but there was no answer.”

“Aw, he’s so cute! What’s his name?”

“Bark.”

She laughed. “Who names their dog after the sound they make? How odd.”

“Oh, I know. There has to be a story.”

She straightened and moved to the porch. “So, I’m just going to sit outside and enjoy the morning. Of course, that’s all before I run to the store and get a sage plant. I haven’t forgotten. Did you want to sit with me? I have a bunch to tell you about how my summer has been so far.”

Bark let out a noise and made his way to the door, scratching at it. I raised my eyebrows in surprise. “Um, I guess we’re going back inside. Sorry.” I laughed to cover up the fact that I was grateful I wasn’t going to be forced to sit and talk with her.

Any story Gretchen told was about people and how they had wronged her. And it was always dramatic. I left those conversations feeling like I’d somehow been wronged.

“Okay. Well, if you want to join me later, I’ll be over here.” She waved to me and I waved back, following Bark inside.

I waited until the apartment door closed before I said anything. “Whew. Thanks for wanting to go inside, buddy.”

He shook his whole body as if to get all her affection off of him. We walked to the kitchen, where he got water. I got another two-liter of cherry soda and a bag of chips and made my way to the living room to continue my journey into Middle Earth.

As I sat, I realized I should probably give his owner another call. Again, the phone went straight to voicemail. Remy from King High School. I wondered if he was a new hire. But it was just the beginning of summer. What had he been hired for so late in the game? And even if he was a new teacher, his contract wouldn’t start until August. Maybe it was a different King High School.

“Hi, Remy, this is Ash McGowan again. It’s Sunday, June sixth, about nine o’clock. I have your dog, safe and sound. I don’t know how he got out, but I’m making sure he’s fed and watered. If you give me a call, I can get him back to you. Hope to talk to you soon.”

I hung up and set down the phone, then looked at Bark nestled beside me on the sofa. Maybe his owner did just move away and leave him behind or something.

* * * *

I made it halfway through the second Hobbit movie before my phone rang. I paused it and looked at the caller ID. It was my landlord, Valerie.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Ash. How are you doing?”

“I’m doing good. Just watching a movie. How are you?”

She sighed. “Well, I’m calling because I heard you got a dog.”

I forced a laugh, refraining from using every swear word in my dictionary. Gretchen. Stupid, dramatic Gretchen.

“Actually, I didn’t. Someone’s dog got out yesterday, and I’ve been trying to get a hold of the owner.”

“Is the dog in the apartment?”

I gritted my teeth. “Yes. The only reason—”

“You know you’re not allowed to have animals in the apartment, though, right? That’s in your lease.”

“Right. But I don’t own the dog, and I’m trying to get it back to its owners.”

“Why not take it to the pound?”

I refrained from letting out an annoyed breath. So many people called the King Animal Shelter “the pound,” and it drove me crazy. “They’re closed on Sundays. If I don’t hear from the owner by tomorrow afternoon, I’ll take the dog to the animal shelter.”

“I’m sure you can call the non-emergency number for the King Police. We just can’t have that dog in there, you know? They tear things up, they poop and pee all over. It’s just such a hassle. And you might lose your deposit.”

“That seems totally unnecessary, especially after one day. You know, this dog is really well trained. I’ve made sure to take him outside, and—”

“Well, I’m just going by my experience. That’s why we have our tenants sign a lease stating they can’t have animals.”

I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Yep.”

“So, I’ll just call tomorrow morning and see if you’ve gotten rid of the dog.”

“Okay, if you want to. Like I said, if I haven’t heard from the owner by noon tomorrow, I’ll take it to the shelter.”

She was trying to sound so positive. “Thanks for explaining the situation. Let’s just make sure we get that dog out of there as soon as possible, okay? Have a good rest of your day.”

“You, too.” I hung up and tossed the phone on the couch.

Stupid, dumb, i***t Gretchen. I told her the dog wasn’t mine. Yet she lived for the drama. Well, if she wanted drama, I could give her drama. I could go up to her apartment and give her a piece of my mind. Throw a pie in her face. Knock on the door and spit in her stupid, dramatic face. Make Bark poop, then smear it in her stupid, smiling mouth when she opened the door. I could give her some drama if she wanted to stir it up. We could easily be in a neighbor war by lunch.

It hadn’t even been an hour. She must have called Valerie while sitting outside. I mean, how two-faced can you be? She’d greeted Bark like there were no problems, never mentioned anything to me about not being allowed pets in the building. If it bothered her, she should have said something to me. But she hadn’t. Then called Valerie.

“Ugh!” I slammed my hand on the arm of the couch, making Bark jump and look reproachfully at me. “Sorry, buddy.” I pet him along his back, and instantly began to feel calmer and soothed.

I started the movie again, drowning out any other voices in my head and trying to lose myself in the magic.

I did a very good job.

I was about halfway through The Two Towers when there was a light knock at my door. Bark immediately went into full psycho mode, yapping up a storm and running to the door to fend off the person who was most definitely a threat.

“Oh, yeah.” I remembered that my friend, Zharia, said she was going to swing by a little after six to grab some of the books I bought for her at the King Public Library book sale last week.

I got to the door, Bark’s barks ringing in my ears as his little body wormed its way between my legs to make sure he was the first one to see who it was.

I opened the door and he bounded out, immediately ceasing his barking, instead sniffing as much pant leg as possible. I met Zharia’s gaze.

“What?”

She raised her eyebrows. “You got a dog? When were you going to tell me? Can I pick her up?”

“He’s not mine, he’s a runaway.”

She leaned down and he gladly jumped in her arms, licking her hands and face. “Aw! He’s so cute! What’s he on the run for? Tax evasion?”

“Murder, actually.”

She sighed wistfully as she looked at Bark wiggling with excitement in her arms. “It’s always the cute ones that are crazy.” She set him down and stepped forward with her arms open. I gave her a hug and invited her in. Her eyes wandered over me, focusing on my neck and cheeks. “You’ve got a sunburn.”

“I know. And that’s with sunscreen.” I closed the door and sat on the couch. She sat on the chair across from me, her gaze shifting to the empty bag of chips and the largely depleted soda bottle that rustled as Bark jumped onto the couch next to me.

Then she looked closely at me. She’d been doing that for the last two years, of course. Making sure I was okay. Ensuring I was functioning.

She leaned back, seeming to relax. “So, how has summer vacation been treating you so far?”

“Fine.” I shrugged. “This year was a really hard end-of-year for some reason. Probably because of the district-mandated writing assignments. Grading those was hard.”

“I’ve always said you can just grade them for turning something in. It will save you a bunch of time.”

“I know, but they’re putting forth the effort to write it. The least I can do is read it and let them know I read it by providing a few comments here and there.”

She shook her head. “I still don’t get it. Requiring writing in every single class. I mean, don’t get me wrong, they need the practice, but that’s what classes like English, History, and Government are for. Why do they need to write in PE or Choir?”

I shrugged. “Writing about a variety of things is important. I haven’t had to change much in the music room. Once a week, I have them write about a piece of music we’re doing, or a song they like and why they like it, or we do a music history assignment. It’s actually been good for my kids. They learn where music has been so they can see the patterns in some music now.”

“I still think it’s a hassle. I mean, I’m doing it, but I don’t like it.”

I nodded. “I hear ya.”

“Anyway, what are you up to?”

“I’ve been sitting on the couch and journeying through Middle Earth.”

She laughed. “I mean, like, this summer. What are your plans? Any travel? Going camping? Hanging out with actual people in real life?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said casually, but I could hear where this was going.

“Ash.” She looked sternly at me.

“Don’t go there, Zharia.”

She raised an eyebrow and smiled wryly. “Try and stop me. You’ll have to kick me out.” She leaned forward. “Look. I get it. At least, I’m probably the only person that can come close to understanding. It’s been two years. And all you’ve done is become more and more of a turtle.”

I frowned. “A…turtle?”

“Yeah. You know, you keep shutting yourself up in your shell and not letting people in.”

I sighed. “I’m still trying to find a new normal.”

“No, you’re avoiding life by staying at home and watching TV. I’ve tried to give you time, but something has to change. The summer after…I mean, I know we put everything in storage and took care of all the money stuff, and by the time that was all done, school was starting again. But last summer, it was the same thing. I saw you only a few times—your sister said she saw you only on Memorial Day and July Fourth—and you didn’t attend the KHS summer barbeque.”