“I’d say twenty minutes. Does that sound about right to you, Henry?”
“Close enough. I heard her shriek and came running out to see what was wrong. The dog refused to let her move. I thought to intervene, but he didn’t seem to care for it. He rushed me and barked so close to my shin, his hot breath felt like ankle wind.”
“This is the mutt you rescued?”
Pearl said, “That’s him.”
“Where’s Lucky?”
“In the tent sleeping off a drunk. Him and Henry went and fetched the dog from the vet. Lucky said it stressed him out and he ain’t over it yet. All them poor sick pussycats and puppy dogs. One of ’em had got hit by a car and the doc had to amputate his hind leg. Lucky said it was the awfulest thing he ever seen. Nothing but a stump was left. He got home and had to knock back four beers just to settle his nerves. Minute he went in the tent, the dog put hisself in charge and put us on notice. Nobody better move or he’ll bite the shit out of you.”
As though to demonstrate the point, the dog barked so savagely his chest quivered and his front feet came off the ground. All three of us jumped as though jolted by a cattle prod.
“What kind of dog is that?” I said, trying not to move my lips.
“Part mastiff and part Rottweiler. He’s got some golden retriever in the mix as well. The mastiff and Rottie parts are all loyal guard dog. The retriever part loves to fetch. I throwed him his baby and he brought her right back to me, but after Lucky went in the tent he didn’t want to play no more.”
“He have a name?”
“Killer.”
“Very nice,” I said. “How’re you doing, Henry? Everything okay?”
“More or less. Pearl says you were here earlier looking for me.”
“I thought we should talk about putting in a home alarm to cover your place and mine. Ned’s on the loose. He stopped by yesterday.”
“Pearl mentioned that. Nothing wrong with home security.”
“I’ll be happy to split the cost.”
“No need. My treat. What company?”
“Security Operating Systems. They installed the alarm at my office.”
“S.O.S. Clever. I’ll give them a call.”
“Actually, with Killer on the premises, burglars wouldn’t have a chance,” I said. I turned to Pearl. “Any news on Ned’s whereabouts?”
Pearl said, “My homies ain’t seen him, though a pitcher of him might be nice. You talk about a middle-aged white guy and it don’t exactly set off alarms.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” I said.
Henry said, “Oh. Before I forget, I wanted to remind you of Rosie’s birthday. We’re having a little party for her Friday night.”
“Glad you mentioned it. I’d blanked on that.”
Pearl said, “Lucky and me are invited too, so don’t give us no guff.”
“We’ll do it after supper and I’ll be baking the cake.”
Pearl said, “He was going to make an angel food cake, which is a type of sponge cake. Stiff-beaten egg whites is used as leavening instead of baking soda or baking powder, but I suggested a sheet cake, which will feed more.”
Henry said, “Very good, Pearl. I’m impressed.”
Pearl shrugged modestly.
“Friday’s the twenty-second?” I asked.
“Indeed.”
“Gifts?”
“I leave that up to you.”
I glanced at Pearl. “How long is Lucky apt to sleep?”
“I hope it ain’t long. I gotta pee.”
“Me, too,” Henry said weakly.
The dog lifted his head and bared his teeth. The hair on his back rose magically in a stiff line from his shoulder blades to his tail, making him look like a hound from hell. I wasn’t sure about Henry or Pearl, but I was ready to repent.
“Might be some Rhodesian ridgeback in him, too,” Pearl said.
“Anybody have a plan?” I asked.
“Fresh out,” she said.
“Henry?”
“He can’t be as suspicious of you as he is of Pearl and me. I think he associates us with Lucky’s disappearance. I don’t think he’s made up his mind about you.”
“He seems pretty opinionated from where I stand,” I said. “Have you tried calling Lucky’s name to see if you can rouse him?”
“We gave up. That guy passes out and he’s down for the count,” Pearl said. “See if you can get him to play.”
“Lucky?”
“The fucking dog,” she said, exasperated. “Pardon my potty mouth, Henry. I know you don’t hold with talk like that.”
Henry accepted her apology philosophically, by now accustomed to my occasional salty outbursts.
“When you say play, what are you picturing?” I asked Pearl.
“You know. Frolicking about and dancing on his hind legs.”
“Frolicking?”
“Okay, so skip the frolicking. That’s asking too much. Tell him what a good boy he is. Praise his baby. The dog’s fierce, but he’s not all that smart.”
“Oh, come on. He’s not going to fall for that.”
“You got a better idea?”
“Not really.”
I stood and regarded the dog, thinking of the many accounts I’d read of humans savaged by their faithful four-legged friends. I’d just met the dog and he’d already taken a dislike to me. I watched him settle on the ground and go back to slobbering on his toy, apparently content. He gnawed on his dolly’s arm, then proceeded to lick her tiny rubber feet. From the kitchen window, Ed the cat had relaxed his vigilance, but looked on with concern.
“Well, get on with it,” she said.
“I am! Don’t nag.”
Slowly, I lowered myself into a squatting position, knees popping, uncertain if I’d ever be able to stand up again. I said, “Killer, what a nice doggie you are. Good boy! Is that your baby doll?”
The dog grumbled to himself as he drooled on his toy, uncertain what to make of my behavior.
“Is that your baby doll? What a nice baby! I love that baby. Can you bring her over here?”
Killer paused in his attentions to his baby doll, perhaps willing to share if given the proper incentive. He cast a wary eye in my direction.
“Bring her over here, Killer. Come on. Come on, boy!”
I slapped my knees and repeated my appeal. I was making myself sick with all this goofy talk, but the dog didn’t seem to mind. I could see him weigh my request. His tail thumped twice and the ridge of hair settled. He knew his baby was deserving of praise and applause and he couldn’t help but take pride.
“Bring her over here. Bring your baby.”
Bashfully, he lumbered to his feet as if the idea had just occurred to him. He gave his baby a playful toss, checking out of the corner of his eye to see what I thought.
I said, “Good boy! What a good boy!”
He picked her up tenderly and brought her half the distance. I warbled out more encouragement. I realized later I was activating the golden retriever in his nature. Finally, he carried the baby close and laid her at my feet. I waited until he barked expectantly, stepped back, and wiggled, front legs on the ground and his butt in the air, his gaze fixed on his toy.
“Thank you. What a good boy! I’m going to pick her up now. Is that okay?”
Nothing hostile in his response.