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Book: Shape of the Final Dog and Other Stories (9781101600665) by Hampton Fancher
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Authors: Hampton Fancher
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about a foot of its tail exposed. Jack counts the rattles. Eight. He waits for it to disappear; it doesnât happen. With an index finger, Jack touches it. The silk of its ebony skin, like the smooth coolness of a gem. But alive.
Suddenly, without a thought, he pulls the snake back out into the light. It whips around, lifting its head to strike, but Jack has stepped back out of range, rubbing his hand as if heâd been bitten. Coiled, but not rattling, the snake waits to see what will happen. Jack thinks about the rats in his attic and wishes he could give it one. He is inspired. You are one hell of a decent snake, Blacky. A snake of distinction. Blacky slowly uncoils, slides back to his hole. Jack knows something important has happened. The oak rattles. Jack looks up at the flickering leaves. He almost weeps.
On the floor, under the space of his elevated bed, he keeps a pomander of cloves Stewart had made and given him to keep snakes away, an old Chinese custom. But after his run-in with Blacky, he tosses it in the creek. Itâs more than simple fondness; he feels like Blacky is a harbinger of good things to come, the thrill of a riddle come to visit him. Blacky had been courteous for a reason.
Even though they havenât talked in three days, Stewart is still his closest friend, the one he needs most to tell his story to. He leaves a message for her to call him back. By nightfall she still hasnât. By midnight he stops leaving messages, at four a.m. he stops calling.
She once said she would do anything for him, loved him so much she would even have sex with another man if he asked her to. But did she love him so much that she
wouldnât
? The night is hard passing. At nine a.m. he brings the phone to bed but is afraid to use it. He will wait until noon. Just before twelve it rings. He hears the difference in her voice. Jack tries for nonchalance. Did she just get home? Stewart never lies. Did she spend the night with Peter Ryles? She did. That was fast. Yes, it surprised her too. Did she have an orgasm? Three. There is nothing to be done. She is sorry. Jack wants to see her. She has to get some sleep. Dinner? Sheâs promised to have dinner with Peter. He is only in town a few more days. She is sorry. Jack needs so much more than that, he needs to see her. Stewart needs to sleep; she has a fitting at the end of the day. She hears an imploded sob. She waits. Jack? He throws the phone against the wall. It breaks. He tries to find the old phone. A little voice at the bottom of him says, As soon as you get her backâif you canâas soon as you do, you know you wonât want her. But that voice doesnât stand a chance. He finds the old phone under some shoes and calls her back.
In the next three days she will visit him twice. He will go to her place twice. But she wonât make love to him. He will beg her to tell him she is in love with Peter and no longer in love with him. If she will just say it, he promises to leave her alone. But she wonât say it. She says sheâs confused.
Feeling okay, doing well, things running smoothly, could never keep Jackâs attention, but this trauma has legs. Howling at the moon resonates in the myth of himself. Stewart is decent, patient, and guilty, but knows better than to say yes when he asks her to marry him. She thinks it best they donât see each other for a while. He wants specifics. She wants time. Tomorrow is time. He calls her. She says something about too little too late, but gets it wrong. He is angered on both counts, but mostly itâs the cliché that pisses him off. He has the sense to keep quiet, bide his time, endure another day.
Jack comes up for air. First time in a week he stands naked on the Platform. Stomach in, chest forward, spine straight. The Tadasana position. He contemplates the word. Pictures the line over each of the
a
âs, the dot under the
d
. Maybe he is wrong and this is the pose known as
Suddenly, without a thought, he pulls the snake back out into the light. It whips around, lifting its head to strike, but Jack has stepped back out of range, rubbing his hand as if heâd been bitten. Coiled, but not rattling, the snake waits to see what will happen. Jack thinks about the rats in his attic and wishes he could give it one. He is inspired. You are one hell of a decent snake, Blacky. A snake of distinction. Blacky slowly uncoils, slides back to his hole. Jack knows something important has happened. The oak rattles. Jack looks up at the flickering leaves. He almost weeps.
On the floor, under the space of his elevated bed, he keeps a pomander of cloves Stewart had made and given him to keep snakes away, an old Chinese custom. But after his run-in with Blacky, he tosses it in the creek. Itâs more than simple fondness; he feels like Blacky is a harbinger of good things to come, the thrill of a riddle come to visit him. Blacky had been courteous for a reason.
Even though they havenât talked in three days, Stewart is still his closest friend, the one he needs most to tell his story to. He leaves a message for her to call him back. By nightfall she still hasnât. By midnight he stops leaving messages, at four a.m. he stops calling.
She once said she would do anything for him, loved him so much she would even have sex with another man if he asked her to. But did she love him so much that she
wouldnât
? The night is hard passing. At nine a.m. he brings the phone to bed but is afraid to use it. He will wait until noon. Just before twelve it rings. He hears the difference in her voice. Jack tries for nonchalance. Did she just get home? Stewart never lies. Did she spend the night with Peter Ryles? She did. That was fast. Yes, it surprised her too. Did she have an orgasm? Three. There is nothing to be done. She is sorry. Jack wants to see her. She has to get some sleep. Dinner? Sheâs promised to have dinner with Peter. He is only in town a few more days. She is sorry. Jack needs so much more than that, he needs to see her. Stewart needs to sleep; she has a fitting at the end of the day. She hears an imploded sob. She waits. Jack? He throws the phone against the wall. It breaks. He tries to find the old phone. A little voice at the bottom of him says, As soon as you get her backâif you canâas soon as you do, you know you wonât want her. But that voice doesnât stand a chance. He finds the old phone under some shoes and calls her back.
In the next three days she will visit him twice. He will go to her place twice. But she wonât make love to him. He will beg her to tell him she is in love with Peter and no longer in love with him. If she will just say it, he promises to leave her alone. But she wonât say it. She says sheâs confused.
Feeling okay, doing well, things running smoothly, could never keep Jackâs attention, but this trauma has legs. Howling at the moon resonates in the myth of himself. Stewart is decent, patient, and guilty, but knows better than to say yes when he asks her to marry him. She thinks it best they donât see each other for a while. He wants specifics. She wants time. Tomorrow is time. He calls her. She says something about too little too late, but gets it wrong. He is angered on both counts, but mostly itâs the cliché that pisses him off. He has the sense to keep quiet, bide his time, endure another day.
Jack comes up for air. First time in a week he stands naked on the Platform. Stomach in, chest forward, spine straight. The Tadasana position. He contemplates the word. Pictures the line over each of the
a
âs, the dot under the
d
. Maybe he is wrong and this is the pose known as
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