AllFreeNovel
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Good girl.
He sat at the table with his coffee and focused on the calendar tacked to the wall. Then he washed out his cup, put on a coat, and stuffed a gun in his pocket. He stood at the open door and patted his thigh. His dog cocked her head, then slowly walked past him to the jeep.
He followed. We gotta eat, he said.
They drove to a hardware store. He put on his
mask and pointed his finger at his dog.
I don't want a sound out of you. I want you to stay put.
His mask quaked when he spoke. His dog's eyes darted and she settled on the floor. He sat there, looking out the windshield, then he opened the door. His dog smoothed her whiskers with her tongue and panted. He scraped his shoes on the wooden steps and walked inside. A bell chimed and he said something.
She smelled the litter basket and the space beneath the seat. She rolled a road flare back and forth, then far under the springs, out of reach.
He opened the door and climbed in, huffing. He angrily turned the ignition and lifted to readjust the gun in his coat pocket. He still had the mask on. He put the jeep in gear and aggressively rubbed his knuckles into her skull.
Hungry? he asked.
That night he crouched by the lake and watched a brief flurry of snowflakes speck the water and dissolve. He trudged back to the cabin and tried the door, but it was locked.
What is this?
He cupped his eyes and peered through the window. His dog lay by the orange fire, repeatedly licking her paw.
He tried the door again and it swung free. His dog looked at him.
The oar tips cut into the water and moved, stirring small whirlpools. The green lake was shiny with calm. He slouched back against the prow and zipped his mackinaw up to the collar. He could only see boat houses, boatless docks, woods of blurry red and gold, and over them a gunmetal sky. It looked as though it might snow again. He was alone on the lake, absolutely. He smiled for a moment and slowly rowed back to the cabin.
He thought, I should've brought a radio.
His dog sat patiently on the sand bank of the lake, her tail wagging, a bird of some sort clamped in her jaws.
What've you got? Huh?
He beached the boat, scraping it on rocks. His boots splashed in the water at the shore. He tamped the anchor into silt. He climbed tiredly to his dog.
Give me that.
He tapped her chin and she let the quail roll into his hand. He stroked the beak with his thumb and the head waggled. She danced around him and jumped. He held her by the collar, threw the bird to the fringe of the forest, wiped his hands on his pants. He knelt next to his dog and cupped her chin in his hand.
Don't you ever do that again!
She tried to pull away. He swatted her nose and she flinched. He was about to speak again when she jerked her head and slinked off. He gripped her collar and yanked her around.
Let's get something straight once and for all. That's the kind of thing I won't tolerate. That's the kind of thing that could ruin whatever we've got going here.
He walked slowly back to the cabin. She wouldn't heel. She crossed in and out of the forest.
You bitch! he shouted.
His boots rasped in gravel. His eyes were warm with tears. Bitch.
By evening she was gone.
He threw wood on the fire. He kicked a chair around. He slumped against the door.
It began to snow in earnest and he went to bed early.
