Page 38 - WTP Vol. IX #8
P. 38

Waldo (continued from preceding page)
of the day. He had a hell of a nose on him, which was likely the reason he ended up in the middle of today’s mess. Without consciously thinking it through, I de- cided in mid-sprint to wake Pete up first and fill him in as much as possible before dealing with Pa.
Rousing Pete was akin to waking up a black bear in January. Not having the time to be easy about it, I simply pulled his pillow from under his head, hauled
it back, and hit him square in the face with it. Even this only mildly brought Pete out of his slumber. He looked up and blinked and then slowly turned as red as his unkempt hair with anger. The realization was dawning on him that he got sucker-punched with a pillow.
Before he had time to fully come round, and more importantly, before he could entirely lose his temper, I started talking. “Pete, we don’t have time for you
to be mad, so get your ass up. I have to get Pa. Mr. Jenkins is on his way over. Waldo got off his chain and was in a fight that killed Gretchen.”
Pete’s eyes were wide as saucers as he started pulling on clothes. “Where’s he at?”
“I’m not sure; the whole bunch of them ran off into the woods.”
“The whole bunch of them?” he said, sounding con- fused. But I was already darting out the door.
It was a quarter till nine by now, and I was surprised to see Pa sitting up and silently smoking a cigarette as I opened the bedroom door. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had an open bottle on the nightstand. I wasn’t sure if that was from last night or if he had already started drinking today. “What?” was my father’s lov- ing welcome.
“Mr. Jenkins is on his way over. Waldo and some other dogs killed Mrs. Jenkins’ dog, and he wants to talk to ya about it.”
“Well shit,” he growled. “What the hell does he expect me to do about it?”
“I don’t know, Pa, but he’s coming.” Until now, I hadn’t even considered what exactly Mr. Jenkins wanted to discuss. What could Pa possibly do to change any- thing that had happened? I suspect it was a matter of paying for the dead dog, but I had no idea if that was reasonable or not. I was quite sure that Pa would find it unreasonable.
Just then, a knock came from the front screen door. The screen was slightly loose, so both knocks echoed from the frame’s double slam. Pa was slipping a leg
into his jeans as I turned and walked to the door. Opening it, a bit of relief hit me. Instead of Mr. Jen- kins, it was my buddy, Jimmy Snyder. Jimmy and I had been friends for as long as I could remember;
he lived close and was always stopping in. I assumed he was here to play checkers, explore down by the creek, or sneak a look at the skin mags Pete kept hid- den under his mattress.
“Hey, Jimmy, shits hittin the fan here. Can we hang out later?”
“Sorry, Claude, I ain’t here to hang out. Waldo and a couple other dogs tore up my Saidie this morning. Mom took her to the vet over in Vinton to see what they could do. Did ya know he was loose?”
“Did you see it happen, Jimmy?” Pa said, pushing past me to the front porch. “How do you know it was Waldo?” Pa sounded suspicious and was likely a bit worried about the cost of a vet bill. Pa loomed over him as Jimmy took a step back and looked down at his feet.
“Yes, sir, they came into the backyard, and Sadie was still on her chain. I was taking out fresh water cause the bucket from last night was frozen when I went out to feed her this mornin. It all happened so fast. Waldo turnt on another dog in that little pack, and the next second they was all snarling and fighting. Saidie tried to run, but that chain snapped her back. The other dogs was already running off by the time I got to her. Weren’t nothing I could do...” A single tear ran down the right side of Jimmy’s face, dropped off, and froze instantly to the rotting wood deck.
Ned Jenkins emerged from the treeline by the road and made his way up to the front porch. He looked weary in his heavy coat and high rubber boots. I remember always thinking how worn he appeared toiling on that farm day after day, but at the moment, he looked utterly crushed. He nodded to Jimmy and turned his eyes to Pa.
“Morning, George, did Claude fill you in?”
“He did, and I’m sorry it happened, Ned. Guess there are some wild mutts causing trouble.” Pa made no mention of what had happened to Sadie. “I’ll talk to Pete about it and make sure it won’t happen again with Waldo.”
“Sally loved that dog, and we’ve only had her a year. This is the second time Waldo has been off his chain in the last couple of weeks. Now, I don’t know where those other dogs came from, but Waldo was right there with em!” Ned’s face flushed
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