some muggers got mad if you couldn't pay them off
and stabbed or shot you to vent their frustration.
The men were of equal height--probably over
six feet tall--and both had facial hair, though the first had a
neatly trimmed mustache and goatee while the second had an unkempt
full beard. The first man seemed to have bathed much more recently
than the second.
"Nice dog," said the cleaner man.
Charlie tightened his grip on the handle of
Kutter's leash. "He's mine."
"Nobody said he wasn't."
"What do you want?"
"I thought I already said that we wanted to
see your dog." The pit bull sniffed at Kutter, and Charlie took a
step back, pulling Kutter away. "It's a pretty nice dog. How much
does one of those things cost these days?"
"I didn't steal him."
"Why would you think that we're accusing you
of stealing him? I'd think that the owner of such a fine dog would
be used to people wanting to see him."
Charlie took another step back. "Keep your
pit bull away from him."
"Pit bull? This isn't a pit bull. This is an
American Staffordshire terrier. And even if he was, you're not one
of those people who think that pit bulls go around mauling babies,
are you? They got a bad rap. Pit bulls are great dogs if the owner
takes care of them. When you hear about them ripping some kid
apart, it's almost never the dog's fault."
"I don't have any money," Charlie said.
"Paranoid, paranoid, paranoid." The man
laughed, but there was no humor to it. "We've seen you around and
we liked your dog. You're acting like you have a guilty conscience.
You do something you shouldn't have?"
"I need to get home," Charlie said.
"Why?"
"I'm meeting my girlfriend."
"Then by all means, don't let us keep you."
The man gestured grandly toward the way Charlie had been walking.
"I wouldn't want to stand in the way of a man who's gonna get
himself some."
Charlie led Kutter away from them. Behind
him, one of the dogs growled.
"None of that, Bear," said
the first man. "He's going to get himself laid . Let's not ruin his
night."
Charlie wanted to run, but didn't dare. He
settled for walking very, very quickly, tugging hard on Kutter's
leash when the dog tried to stop for sniff breaks.
* * *
Charlie and Kutter sat on the couch. What
had those men wanted? Were they simply jerks? Were they friends of
Byron? Maybe Byron had never really owned Kutter, and these men
were after him to take the dog back.
"You're being ridiculous," Charlie said out
loud. It wasn't part of some elaborate hoax.
Then again, Byron might not have been
Kutter's original owner. Charlie might be his third owner, and one
of the men in the park might have been the first.
If so, why wouldn't they just ask for him
back? Why be all weird about it?
Either way, he didn't feel like going out
with Liz tonight. He called her, claiming that he was sick to his
stomach (which was technically true, even if he blamed it on food
poisoning) and cancelled their movie date. She told him that she
hoped he felt better tomorrow, and made a very pleasant suggestion
for an evening activity if he did.
Charlie wished that he could report the men
for harassment, but having the police investigate why he might have
people angry with him was probably not the best course of action.
He'd just have to wait this out and be on the defensive.
Kutter didn't seem distressed by this.
Charlie wished he could be more like the dog.
Charlie wasn't sure what to do the next
morning. He didn't want to leave Kutter at home--what if the men
broke in and dognapped him? Liz would probably let him drive over
and leave Kutter there for the day, but he'd still be leaving
Kutter unattended, and her place might not be any safer than his if
the men were following him.
So he called in sick. Bob was fine with
it.
"I can't do this forever," Charlie told
Kutter. "They don't give me many sick days each year. But I'll
protect you. I promise."
Charlie kept three guns--fully
registered--around the house in case of emergencies. These
"emergencies"
and stabbed or shot you to vent their frustration.
The men were of equal height--probably over
six feet tall--and both had facial hair, though the first had a
neatly trimmed mustache and goatee while the second had an unkempt
full beard. The first man seemed to have bathed much more recently
than the second.
"Nice dog," said the cleaner man.
Charlie tightened his grip on the handle of
Kutter's leash. "He's mine."
"Nobody said he wasn't."
"What do you want?"
"I thought I already said that we wanted to
see your dog." The pit bull sniffed at Kutter, and Charlie took a
step back, pulling Kutter away. "It's a pretty nice dog. How much
does one of those things cost these days?"
"I didn't steal him."
"Why would you think that we're accusing you
of stealing him? I'd think that the owner of such a fine dog would
be used to people wanting to see him."
Charlie took another step back. "Keep your
pit bull away from him."
"Pit bull? This isn't a pit bull. This is an
American Staffordshire terrier. And even if he was, you're not one
of those people who think that pit bulls go around mauling babies,
are you? They got a bad rap. Pit bulls are great dogs if the owner
takes care of them. When you hear about them ripping some kid
apart, it's almost never the dog's fault."
"I don't have any money," Charlie said.
"Paranoid, paranoid, paranoid." The man
laughed, but there was no humor to it. "We've seen you around and
we liked your dog. You're acting like you have a guilty conscience.
You do something you shouldn't have?"
"I need to get home," Charlie said.
"Why?"
"I'm meeting my girlfriend."
"Then by all means, don't let us keep you."
The man gestured grandly toward the way Charlie had been walking.
"I wouldn't want to stand in the way of a man who's gonna get
himself some."
Charlie led Kutter away from them. Behind
him, one of the dogs growled.
"None of that, Bear," said
the first man. "He's going to get himself laid . Let's not ruin his
night."
Charlie wanted to run, but didn't dare. He
settled for walking very, very quickly, tugging hard on Kutter's
leash when the dog tried to stop for sniff breaks.
* * *
Charlie and Kutter sat on the couch. What
had those men wanted? Were they simply jerks? Were they friends of
Byron? Maybe Byron had never really owned Kutter, and these men
were after him to take the dog back.
"You're being ridiculous," Charlie said out
loud. It wasn't part of some elaborate hoax.
Then again, Byron might not have been
Kutter's original owner. Charlie might be his third owner, and one
of the men in the park might have been the first.
If so, why wouldn't they just ask for him
back? Why be all weird about it?
Either way, he didn't feel like going out
with Liz tonight. He called her, claiming that he was sick to his
stomach (which was technically true, even if he blamed it on food
poisoning) and cancelled their movie date. She told him that she
hoped he felt better tomorrow, and made a very pleasant suggestion
for an evening activity if he did.
Charlie wished that he could report the men
for harassment, but having the police investigate why he might have
people angry with him was probably not the best course of action.
He'd just have to wait this out and be on the defensive.
Kutter didn't seem distressed by this.
Charlie wished he could be more like the dog.
Charlie wasn't sure what to do the next
morning. He didn't want to leave Kutter at home--what if the men
broke in and dognapped him? Liz would probably let him drive over
and leave Kutter there for the day, but he'd still be leaving
Kutter unattended, and her place might not be any safer than his if
the men were following him.
So he called in sick. Bob was fine with
it.
"I can't do this forever," Charlie told
Kutter. "They don't give me many sick days each year. But I'll
protect you. I promise."
Charlie kept three guns--fully
registered--around the house in case of emergencies. These
"emergencies"
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