Read Online In Persuasion Nation by George Saunders - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: George Saunders
Ads: Link
bow
Next night, walking out
where it happened, I found her little red bow.
I
brought it in, threw it down on the table, said: My God my God.
Take
a good look at it and also I'm looking at it, said Uncle Matt. And we
won't ever forget it, am I right?
First
thing of course was to find the dogs. Which turns out, they were
holed up back of the—the place where the little kids go, with
the plastic balls in cages, they have birthday parties and so
forth—holed up in this sort of nest of tree debris dragged
there by the Village.
Well
we lit up the debris and then shot the three of them as they ran out.
But
that Mrs. Pearson, who'd seen the whole—well she said there'd
been four, four dogs, and next night we found that the fourth had
gotten into Mullins Run and bit the Elliotts' Sadie and that white
Muskerdoo that belonged to Evan and Millie Bates next door.
Jim
Elliott said he would put Sadie down himself and borrowed my gun to
do it, and did it, then looked me in the eye and said he was sorry
for our loss, and Evan Bates said he couldn't do it, and would I? But
then finally he at least led Muskerdoo out into that sort of field
they call the Concourse, where they do the barbecues and whatnot,
giving it a sorrowful little kick (a gentle kick, there was nothing
mean in Evan) whenever it snapped at him, saying Musker Jesus!—and
then he said Okay, now when he was ready for me to do it, and
I did it, and afterwards he said he was sorry for our loss.
Around
midnight we found the fourth one gnawing at itself back of Bourne's
place, and Bourne came out and held the flashlight as we put it down
and helped us load it into the wheelbarrow alongside Sadie and
Muskerdoo, our plan being—Dr. Vincent had said this was best—to
burn those we found, so no other animal would—you know, via
feeding on the corpses—in any event, Dr. Vincent said it was
best to burn them.
When
we had the fourth in the wheelbarrow my Jason said: Mr. Bourne, what
about Cookie?
Well
no I don't believe so, said Bourne.
He
was an old guy and had that old-guy tenderness for the dog, it being
pretty much all he had left in the world, such as for example he
always called it friend-of-mine , as in: How about a walk,
friend-of-mine?
But
she is mostly an outside dog? I said.
She
is almost completely an outside dog, he said. But still, I don't
believe so.
And
Uncle Matt said: Well, Lawrence, I for one am out here tonight trying
to be certain. I think you can understand that.
I
can, Bourne said, I most certainly can.
And
Bourne brought out Cookie and we had a look.
At
first she seemed fine, but then we noticed she was doing this funny
thing where a shudder would run through her and her eyes would all of
a sudden go wet, and Uncle Matt said: Lawrence, is that something
Cookie would normally do?
Well,
ah . . . said Bourne.
And
another shudder ran through Cookie.
Oh
Jesus Christ, said Mr. Bourne, and went inside.
Uncle
Matt told Seth and Jason to trot out whistling into the field and
Cookie would follow, which she did, and Uncle Matt ran after, with
his gun, and though he was, you know, not exactly a runner, still he
kept up pretty good just via sheer effort, like he wanted to make
sure this thing got done right.
Which
I was grateful to have him there, because I was too tired in mind and
my body to know what was right anymore, and sat down on the porch,
and pretty soon heard this little pop.
Then
Uncle Matt trotted back from the field and stuck his head inside and
said: Lawrence do you know, did Cookie have contact with other dogs,
was there another dog or dogs she might have played with, nipped,
that sort of thing?
Oh
get out, get away, said Bourne.
Lawrence
my God, said Uncle Matt. Do you think I like this? Think of what
we've been through. Do you think this is fun for me, for us?
There was a long
silence and then Bourne said well all he could think of was that
terrier at the Rectory, him and Cookie sometimes played when Cookie
got off her
Next night, walking out
where it happened, I found her little red bow.
I
brought it in, threw it down on the table, said: My God my God.
Take
a good look at it and also I'm looking at it, said Uncle Matt. And we
won't ever forget it, am I right?
First
thing of course was to find the dogs. Which turns out, they were
holed up back of the—the place where the little kids go, with
the plastic balls in cages, they have birthday parties and so
forth—holed up in this sort of nest of tree debris dragged
there by the Village.
Well
we lit up the debris and then shot the three of them as they ran out.
But
that Mrs. Pearson, who'd seen the whole—well she said there'd
been four, four dogs, and next night we found that the fourth had
gotten into Mullins Run and bit the Elliotts' Sadie and that white
Muskerdoo that belonged to Evan and Millie Bates next door.
Jim
Elliott said he would put Sadie down himself and borrowed my gun to
do it, and did it, then looked me in the eye and said he was sorry
for our loss, and Evan Bates said he couldn't do it, and would I? But
then finally he at least led Muskerdoo out into that sort of field
they call the Concourse, where they do the barbecues and whatnot,
giving it a sorrowful little kick (a gentle kick, there was nothing
mean in Evan) whenever it snapped at him, saying Musker Jesus!—and
then he said Okay, now when he was ready for me to do it, and
I did it, and afterwards he said he was sorry for our loss.
Around
midnight we found the fourth one gnawing at itself back of Bourne's
place, and Bourne came out and held the flashlight as we put it down
and helped us load it into the wheelbarrow alongside Sadie and
Muskerdoo, our plan being—Dr. Vincent had said this was best—to
burn those we found, so no other animal would—you know, via
feeding on the corpses—in any event, Dr. Vincent said it was
best to burn them.
When
we had the fourth in the wheelbarrow my Jason said: Mr. Bourne, what
about Cookie?
Well
no I don't believe so, said Bourne.
He
was an old guy and had that old-guy tenderness for the dog, it being
pretty much all he had left in the world, such as for example he
always called it friend-of-mine , as in: How about a walk,
friend-of-mine?
But
she is mostly an outside dog? I said.
She
is almost completely an outside dog, he said. But still, I don't
believe so.
And
Uncle Matt said: Well, Lawrence, I for one am out here tonight trying
to be certain. I think you can understand that.
I
can, Bourne said, I most certainly can.
And
Bourne brought out Cookie and we had a look.
At
first she seemed fine, but then we noticed she was doing this funny
thing where a shudder would run through her and her eyes would all of
a sudden go wet, and Uncle Matt said: Lawrence, is that something
Cookie would normally do?
Well,
ah . . . said Bourne.
And
another shudder ran through Cookie.
Oh
Jesus Christ, said Mr. Bourne, and went inside.
Uncle
Matt told Seth and Jason to trot out whistling into the field and
Cookie would follow, which she did, and Uncle Matt ran after, with
his gun, and though he was, you know, not exactly a runner, still he
kept up pretty good just via sheer effort, like he wanted to make
sure this thing got done right.
Which
I was grateful to have him there, because I was too tired in mind and
my body to know what was right anymore, and sat down on the porch,
and pretty soon heard this little pop.
Then
Uncle Matt trotted back from the field and stuck his head inside and
said: Lawrence do you know, did Cookie have contact with other dogs,
was there another dog or dogs she might have played with, nipped,
that sort of thing?
Oh
get out, get away, said Bourne.
Lawrence
my God, said Uncle Matt. Do you think I like this? Think of what
we've been through. Do you think this is fun for me, for us?
There was a long
silence and then Bourne said well all he could think of was that
terrier at the Rectory, him and Cookie sometimes played when Cookie
got off her
Similar Books
