doorjamb. The groceries will fall. The kid will fire both barrels at the old man's face, hurling him back across the hall. Apples will roll off the rug.
Rex took a wad of rags from a barrel in the garage while I sat against his mom's car brushing my hair. He unwrapped a gun and wiped it off with his shirttail. He sat against his motorcycle seat and turned the chamber round and round, hearing every click. Then he got cold without a coat and covered the gun again and crammed it down his pants. He gave me a weird look. He said, “Ready?”
Max tried to sleep but couldn't. He got up and put on a robe, then took a double-barrel shotgun from the closet, andtwo shells from a box in one of the drawers. He sat in a stuffed chair by his brushes, lowered the gun butt to the floor, and leaned forward until his eyebrows touched metal. Then he tripped both triggers.
Rex was just about to climb the stairs when he heard the shotgun noise. He just stood there sort of blue and disappointed until I took his hand and pulled him away and we walked over to the lunchroom. Ron was there in a booth in the back. He'd had the pork tenderloin. We sat in the booth with him and as usual he told me how pretty I looked. Rex just sulked, he was so disappointed.
“You should be happy,” Ron said.
“Do I still get the money?”
Ron nodded. He was grinning around a cigar. He pushed an envelope across the table.
Rex just looked at it. “Then I guess I am happy.”
“You should be.”
Rex stuffed the envelope inside his coat pocket. Everybody was quiet until I spoke up and said, “I just can't stand to think about him waiting in the room and knowing he's going to get it. It's too damned awful.”
Rex looked at me strangely. Ron knocked the ash off his cigar. “Well,” he said, “you better not think about it.”
His Dog
T his was when he first saw her. This was the job where he picked up four hundred dollars. He lifted the collar on his coat and stared into the window reflection of a liquor store across the street and of a fat man in a white shirt turning out the lights in the beer coolers.
The man in the street looked down. The window was the front of a pet shop. In a wicker basket puppies nuzzled and climbed one another in sleep. One of them was loose, prowling. The man tapped the glass with his finger and her ears perked. She had blue eyes. He put on a gruesome rubber mask. The puppy backed away, then yapped and jumped at the glass.
Shh! he said, smiling.
He saw the liquor-store owner begin to pull the iron grate across the high windows.
He crossed the street.
$403.45.
In September, in a park, he saw a boy with the same husky straining at a leash. She was much bigger now, almost grown. The boy dawdled and the pup leaned.
Hey, the man whispered.
The pup turned her head.
Remember?
***
He picked bone and gristle and choice bits off the plates in the kitchen of the café. The cook was giving him a weird look. He walked up a dark alley with a plastic bag warm and sticky under his arm. He bumped a garbage can and caught its lid. He peered over a hedge and grinned. He ripped the bag and threw it into the yard and watched the young dog snatch up the meat and jerk it back and drop it to the grass. She carried the bone away and sat there in shadow. He saw her eyes sparkle. She kept staring as he left.
He sat against the chain-link fence. His fingers twisted her fur. Occasionally she licked his chin through the mesh.
It's a crazy way of making a living, he said. Most of the time I just get by. Plus, you're alone all the time.
An autumn wind scattered alley leaves. He lifted the collar of his coat.
He said, I dreamt about you last night.
He said, This is my favorite time of year.
I've been thinking about retiring, he said. How would that be?
He tapped the dollar bills together and wrapped them with rubber bands. He spoke through the rubber mask: And now your change.
The clerk stared at him, his arms at his sides.
Just get out one
Rex took a wad of rags from a barrel in the garage while I sat against his mom's car brushing my hair. He unwrapped a gun and wiped it off with his shirttail. He sat against his motorcycle seat and turned the chamber round and round, hearing every click. Then he got cold without a coat and covered the gun again and crammed it down his pants. He gave me a weird look. He said, “Ready?”
Max tried to sleep but couldn't. He got up and put on a robe, then took a double-barrel shotgun from the closet, andtwo shells from a box in one of the drawers. He sat in a stuffed chair by his brushes, lowered the gun butt to the floor, and leaned forward until his eyebrows touched metal. Then he tripped both triggers.
Rex was just about to climb the stairs when he heard the shotgun noise. He just stood there sort of blue and disappointed until I took his hand and pulled him away and we walked over to the lunchroom. Ron was there in a booth in the back. He'd had the pork tenderloin. We sat in the booth with him and as usual he told me how pretty I looked. Rex just sulked, he was so disappointed.
“You should be happy,” Ron said.
“Do I still get the money?”
Ron nodded. He was grinning around a cigar. He pushed an envelope across the table.
Rex just looked at it. “Then I guess I am happy.”
“You should be.”
Rex stuffed the envelope inside his coat pocket. Everybody was quiet until I spoke up and said, “I just can't stand to think about him waiting in the room and knowing he's going to get it. It's too damned awful.”
Rex looked at me strangely. Ron knocked the ash off his cigar. “Well,” he said, “you better not think about it.”
His Dog
T his was when he first saw her. This was the job where he picked up four hundred dollars. He lifted the collar on his coat and stared into the window reflection of a liquor store across the street and of a fat man in a white shirt turning out the lights in the beer coolers.
The man in the street looked down. The window was the front of a pet shop. In a wicker basket puppies nuzzled and climbed one another in sleep. One of them was loose, prowling. The man tapped the glass with his finger and her ears perked. She had blue eyes. He put on a gruesome rubber mask. The puppy backed away, then yapped and jumped at the glass.
Shh! he said, smiling.
He saw the liquor-store owner begin to pull the iron grate across the high windows.
He crossed the street.
$403.45.
In September, in a park, he saw a boy with the same husky straining at a leash. She was much bigger now, almost grown. The boy dawdled and the pup leaned.
Hey, the man whispered.
The pup turned her head.
Remember?
***
He picked bone and gristle and choice bits off the plates in the kitchen of the café. The cook was giving him a weird look. He walked up a dark alley with a plastic bag warm and sticky under his arm. He bumped a garbage can and caught its lid. He peered over a hedge and grinned. He ripped the bag and threw it into the yard and watched the young dog snatch up the meat and jerk it back and drop it to the grass. She carried the bone away and sat there in shadow. He saw her eyes sparkle. She kept staring as he left.
He sat against the chain-link fence. His fingers twisted her fur. Occasionally she licked his chin through the mesh.
It's a crazy way of making a living, he said. Most of the time I just get by. Plus, you're alone all the time.
An autumn wind scattered alley leaves. He lifted the collar of his coat.
He said, I dreamt about you last night.
He said, This is my favorite time of year.
I've been thinking about retiring, he said. How would that be?
He tapped the dollar bills together and wrapped them with rubber bands. He spoke through the rubber mask: And now your change.
The clerk stared at him, his arms at his sides.
Just get out one
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