Page 5 - Sound Rides May 2022

Freo Friday Part 3 by D. Alan Petersen

I took another sip, not knowing what else to do, and strained my ears to try and catch
anything of the exchange between the two. There was a steady trickle of people walking past,
mostly heading to the train station, so I shifted my position slightly to follow their progress
and give me a better view of Arturo and Shorty. Arturo was none too pleased to see his
errand boy, who had passed him an official looking document, typed and with a letterhead,
which looked like an invoice or bill of lading. Arturo took a quick glance then folded it and
shoved it in his black leather manbag.

I topped up my cup, took another sip, after a lot of blowing to cool it, which gave me
more time for surreptitiously glancing their way, though still completely at a loss as what else
to do. A waiter, Zac, a student at Notre Dame, emerged, took the old lady’s order then
unhurriedly turned and started to meander between the tables towards my two lovebirds just
as Shorty had quietly handed over a small bottle of what looked like cheap perfume or
massage oil.
Arturo guiltily stuffed the
bottle into his bag, spooked by Zac’s
approach, but quickly regained
control and abruptly stood up.
Shorty followed suite. It was funny
to watch the big guy jump as though
a puppet on a string. He was like
some well-trained gorilla slavishly
obeying his undersized master, who
in more colourful clothes would have
done a fair impersonation of a
jockey at the track. Their exit was
delayed as Arturo waited for Shorty
to right the chair he’d knocked over.

With no sign of the cavalry I
had to do something, but it was hard
to think because Tristan was going
mental, yappy and bouncing up and
down in the old biddy’s lap obviously
disturbed by Shorty’s clumsy antics.
The little beast then broke loose and
raced over to Arturo, who was in the
lead. The little beast started
snapping at his ankles before
latching onto his trouser ends like a
Pitbull terrier.

Everything happened very quickly but in recalling it, it seems like we were all in slo-mo.
At the time I reckoned I saw a chance to do something, not sure what, so jumped up,
knocking my chair over, with the clang turbocharging Tristan’s frenzied attack. This caused a
cursing Arturo to attempt kicking the thing, which resulted in him loosing balance and falling
back into Shorty, charging to the rescue. Part 4 next time.

Want to read more of Alan's efforts? You can contact him by email at zlaato@gmail.com or
read his debut novel Tarkine Mist available for loan from our local libraries or for sale
online using this search line: D. Alan Petersen Tarkine Mist.

Page 5