The man hesitated and looked pained for a moment before he turned away from Larry and gave a small wave in the direction of Pump Road, the main thoroughfare that would be busy in just about an hour with people heading to work, but was deserted so early in the morning.
“Oh, you have a ride,” said Larry, looking at the dark blue Ford Explorer as it crept toward them. He felt a chill underneath his coat and a momentary fear passed through him. He turned to walk toward home, pulling on the leash to make Happy walk faster. “Come on girl,” he whispered.
Larry’s last glimpse of his quiet little neighborhood was of his neighbor Wallis, turning around and around in an upstairs window, looking down at the ground. He tried to cry out to her, make her look outside, but the soft leather glove clamped down over his mouth didn’t let any of the sound escape.
A man in the front seat of the Explorer got out, pulling a handkerchief out of his back pocket as he bent down to scoop up two small bones. He wrapped them up tightly, pushing the small collection into his coat as he glanced up at the panicked look in Larry’s eyes before his head was pushed down into the car. Larry was straining to see his purple door.
The man slid back into the front seat as he quietly shut the door, scanning the street for any movement.
Happy let out shrill barks as the car turned around and headed back in the direction it had come from. She chased the car all the way to Pump Road, the leash dragging behind her, but stopped at the edge and sat down to patiently wait. Larry had trained her to never try to cross Pump Road alone. It was too dangerous.
Chapter Five
Wallis Jones was in her bedroom turning around and around in a tight circle hoping to spot her other shoe quickly. Up, down, up, down, as first a naked foot hit the carpeted floor, and then a mauve, high-heeled shoe bought on sale at Marshall’s.
The shoes were a perfect reflection of Wallis, high-end, but a bargain.
She loved competing and looked for ways to win, no matter what she was doing, keeping a mental tally throughout the day of wins and losses. There were always more victories, but sometimes it was because Wallis was willing to make quick, small compromises to get to her real goal, whatever it was. She understood the practicality of making some small deal while holding the truth of her real desire hidden.
People don’t often give you what you really want, baby girl, her mother said, especially if it seems like they’ll end up with less. Wallis was sure it was some sort of southern woman’s creed.
Smile, don’t mention any flaws no matter how obvious, and make sure you always walk away with more than the other fellow.
Maybe it wasn’t such a surprise then, that Wallis became a lawyer. A family court lawyer, which gave her more than the usual number of opportunities to parse out small victories. It was only when they were added up months later that the other side saw how much they’d actually given away. Compromise for Wallis was another way to win.
She felt under the edge of the tall dresser with her foot but didn’t feel anything.
A dog barked out front, short loud barks that Wallis knew were meant as a warning. She took a quick step to look out her bedroom window, saw nothing but a black SUV pulling away and went back to trying to find her shoe.
Must be another stray, she thought, looking behind the closet door. There had been a problem lately with dogs emerging in the early morning darkness from the nearby park to forage for food.
Please don’t let them be in my garbage, thought Wallis.
Wallis was an only child who was named after Wallis Simpson, the peculiar concubine and eventual wife of the abdicated King Edward of England. Wallis’ mother, Harriet, was enamored of the small woman’s stiff demeanor, severe red lips and perfect boxy suits that never wrinkled. Edward’s abdication in favor of his bride was a nice touch. Harriet had heard all of the adulterous stories about Wallis over the years but refused to believe any of it.
“People always try to pull down those better than themselves,” she’d say, checking a pin curl at the back of her teased and captured hair. “Sometimes the vociferousness of the crowd is only an indication of how well you’re doing.”
To show her continuing devotion even after the original Wallis had passed away, Harriet kept collecting any trinket that was somehow connected to the woman and always managed to tuck a tea towel with the exiled couple’s faces or a set of coasters with their entwined initials into the box of Christmas presents she gave to Wallis every year. Most of the memorabilia was put away under the large antique four-poster bed Wallis shared with her husband, Norman.
The bed was so high off the ground it had come with wooden steps for either side. It made it easier to stuff things underneath and then hide them with an extra-long bed skirt. Norman liked the height because it kept their dog, Joe, out of the bed. Joe was a middling-sized mutt who looked like he was mostly Bichon Frise, but nobody really knew. Norman and their only child, Ned had picked him out at the pound.