“Then what’s that furry thing next to you? A fucking kangaroo?”
Miki glanced down at the terrier sprawled by his feet. The dog’s tongue lolled to one side of his open mouth, and his ears perked up as a bird flew by. Looking back up at the furious man on his stoop, Miki shrugged. “Yeah, that’s not my dog. He just lives here.”
The man closed his eyes and slowly exhaled through his pressed lips. “Who owns him, then?’
“I don’t know who owns him,” Miki said. “He came by one day. Hasn’t left. Why?”
“Because the little thief stole a piece of my koa.” The man took a step forward, and Miki’s chin rose, a silent challenge, even if he had to look up to meet the man’s eyes. “I want it back.”
“Your what?” Miki shifted his feet. The cold finally reached his spine, its stiff fingers digging into his bones. His knee, on the other hand, was a searing hot spot, and he gritted his teeth against the pain. “Your cone? Like an ice cream cone? How the hell am I supposed to get that back? Dig around in his stomach?”
“Koa,” he said slowly, enunciating each flowing syllable. “It’s wood. From Hawai’i. Your dog took a big piece of it. I want it back.”
“He’s not… screw it. What does it look like?” Miki wasn’t going to argue over ownership of the terrier. Not with his brain sending fiery tendrils up and down his spine and leg.
“It’s wood. How many damned pieces of wood does the dog have?” The hint of Ireland in his voice thickened. Sighing, he held his hands out in front of Miki’s face. “Look, it’s about this big, rough, and dark red. Shit! It’s nearly the same size as the dog. The damned mutt grabbed it and ran off before I could stop him.”
“I’ll go look.” Miki gritted his teeth when he shifted his weight to turn around, and his bad knee nearly buckled. The rubber tip on the end of the cane squeaked loudly as it caught on the wooden floor, and he recovered his balance, breathing heavily from the spikes of pain.
Throughout the noise and Miki’s flailing, the dog lounged back and licked his lower belly.
Miki left the door open. The cold was already deep in his bones, and if he closed it, he couldn’t trust himself to open it up again. Bed seemed like a good place to crawl back into, but instead he hobbled through the room and opened the door to the garage.
And stopped to take a breath.
He could face the garage. The steel and glass pink elephant in the space was covered by a drop cloth that obscured most of its shape, but the car’s lines were still visible. Averting his eyes, Miki stumbled through the space, using what little light came from the terrier-height gap at the bottom of the garage door
Most of what the dog brought in from outdoors was small, such as a cast-off plastic toy or a sun-bleached bone he found in another dog’s yard. Braving the garage every week or so, Miki tossed away nearly all of it, saving only the occasional tennis ball to bring into the house for the mutt to chase after. All of the canine’s dubious treasures were piled up in a far corner, and there on the top of a torn, stained towel sat a milk-carton sized piece of wood, its rough bark still moist from the dog’s mouth.
Bending over, he nearly lost his balance when he picked up the wood. “Fuck, Dude. How the hell did you carry this? It’s a damned brick.”
It was heavier than Miki expected, and he grimaced at the twisting pain in his knee when he stood back up. Cradling the wood against his side, he shook his head in both disgust and amazement at the dog’s tenacity. The warehouse’s open space gave the man a clear view of when Miki came back into the house, and he looked as if he were going to cross the threshold but stopped when Miki’s glare dared him to take a step.
“Do you need…,” the man started to say.
“I don’t need anything,” Miki grunted as he slowly walked toward him. The dog was gone, and by the time Miki got to the front door, he had a light sheen of sweat on his face. Holding out the chunk of wood, he said, “Here’s your cone.”
“Koa,” the man corrected. The hardness seeped from his blue eyes, and he reached to take the wood from Miki’s hands. “Sorry about the… you know. It’s been a really rough day and… damn it, you’re turning blue. You should—”
“Yeah, whatever.” Miki shivered and his body prickled with goose bumps. The heavy door swung smoothly shut on its balanced hinges, and the world slowly closed behind him. “Take your fucking wood and go.”