Bobby D. Lux - Dog Duty (11 page)

“Would you stop staring off at those ships,” Scarlet said. “All you need to be focused on is right here next to you.”

“I’m not staring at the ships,” I said. “I’m staring at the docks.”

“There can’t be anything worth looking at over there.”

“That’s where I’m going.”

“Well, you’ll just have to schedule that in between our dates because I’m not going to join you over there.”

“You weren’t invited.”

“Excuse me? Do you know who you’re talking to? I’m invited everywhere you go.”

“Says who?”

“Says you. You just said I’m your number one. I’m the belle of your ball. That means that when you go somewhere, I automatically have a spot next to you. Of course, I can decide what engagements I want to attend. I may change my mind and say I’m coming to the docks with you.”

“That’s not happening.”

“If I say so, it is.”

You’re not supposed to get mad at females or children. They embed that into your brain in training. If you do happen to get mad at either one, you bury it until it goes away. I was not going to stand there on that beach with the docks just a few minutes away and let her, let anyone, tell me that they’re going to stop me from giving Clay his receipt.

“Let me explain something to you,” I said. “I think you’re pretty. Under normal circumstances, I’d explore the weird feelings you gave me, but I can’t and I won’t until I right some wrongs that have been done to me. I’m not some dog from the park who you can just snap into obedience. I’m a cop. It’s who I am. It’s what I do. So, do me a favor and save the power plays and the blinking eyes for someone else. If it’s any consolation, I was close to giving up and you could’ve had me, but I wouldn’t have respected myself and neither would you.”

I turned and walked away from her. Away from the docks. She knew not to follow. What was I going to do? Change everything about me because Scarlet gave me a
furtive glance? Clay hid back behind my eyes. Instead of seeing myself curled up with Scarlet, I saw Clay on my throat. I had to shake him off before I could ever think about anything else.

“Ernie, you smell putrid,” Nipper said, back at the house.

“You mean it smells like I had a good time,” Ernie said.

“No, because I stink too and I had a lousy time.”

“Well
, whose fault is that, Nipper? You know, it’s getting old, this pity me act you have going on.”

“Ernie, they’re still laughing at me over the whole Halloween fiasco. The last thing I wanted to do was make a fool of myself by trying to eat the waves.”

“I didn’t make a fool of myself if that’s what you’re trying to say. Me and Saucy had a great time. Besides, we were biting the waves, not eating them.
That
would have been dumb.”

Officer Hart came into the yard, grabbed Ernie by his collar, and dragged him to the front yard. He didn’t say anything and
pulled at Ernie harder than I thought appropriate.

“She still likes you,” Nipper said. “Now she thinks you’re playing hard to get. Thanks to that move, she only likes you more. So yeah, thanks.”

The door from the garage opened and Ernie darted back in, still wet. He shook off the leftover water and scratched himself along the stucco on the side of the house.

“You’re still wet, Ernie,” Nipper said. “That was a fast bath.”

“A bath? Sheesh, I got hosed off with the high-pressure nozzle. That stings, man. He dumped a bunch of soap on me and blasted it off without even scrubbing me down. Then he yells in at her something about not taking us to the beach if she didn’t plan on cleaning us up. Then she screams something about at least him noticing that she did something while he was at work. Then he says that the neighbors were watching, which they weren’t, and to be quiet. He says, ‘sorry, Ernie, you’re done’ and then doesn’t even towel me off. That’s my favorite part of the whole thing.”             

“Nipper, get over here. Let’s go,” Officer Hart said
, with the door to the garage wide open. Nipper took plenty of extra steps on his way and incurred the wrath of more Officer Hart shouts and swears. Mrs. Hart yelled to not yell at us. He answered her with a holler. She responded with a bellow. He with a roar, which was answered by a screech, which culminated in a whisper, a “what,” and a “nothing.” Officer Hart seized Nipper’s collar out of the silence and yanked him into the human abyss.

“What do you think is up with them?” Ernie said.

“Who knows?” I said.

“I thought you were a detective. Do some investigating.”

“There’s nothing to investigate. There’s no crime. It’s not against the law to be upset at someone.”

“But, what’s the story, you know? Let’s get some dirt.”

“Let me tell you another story, Ernie. Before I was on the force there was a dog named Lincoln who was there for six years. He was tough, durable, a quiet dog, and was a serviceable officer. And before Lincoln there was Hammer, and Hammer is who this story is about.

“Hammer was a natural. He took to the job like no one had
before, human or canine. His instincts were the sharpest anyone had ever seen; he could think half a dozen steps ahead of any criminal. You hear too many times that someone is born for something, and while most of the time it’s not true, Hammer was a born cop. Not born to
be
one. He came out of the womb an officer. He was respected and was poised for a long and successful career on the force.

“Then he disappeared from the kennel one morning. When his partner went to get him all he found was an empty food bowl. Hammer was a ghost. The third shift cleaning crew claimed they saw Hammer in the kennel on their rounds and that the door was closed.

“Grand City spent thousands of dollars and man hours trying to find Hammer. The search made national news. A few dozen citizens spent every weekend for six weeks combing every alley, underpass, park, and dark corner they could. They all turned up the same thing: nothing. There were rumors he was kidnapped, but there was never any ransom offered. Besides, if half the stories about Hammer were true, you’d need an elephant rifle to knock him out. The fact that his body never turned up convinced a lot of us that Hammer was still alive somewhere. He had to be; he was Hammer.

“No matter who you are, eventually life will go on with or without you. While, officially, Grand City left the Hammer file open, they just stopped trying to find him. They kept his picture up on the wall and made T-shirts for him which still saw the light of day once in awhile when I started out.

“It’s my second year on the force and we get a call on a pursuit headed towards Grand City. Officer Hart radioed that we’re nearby and we join in. We spent forty-five minutes on and off the freeway and until this guy crashed into a parked motor home. Then, the driver foot bailed and tried to huff it towards an apartment complex. That was my cue. Officer Hart let me out and I did what I do. The old sprint, leap, takedown, and bite routine until the officers with the cuffs caught up. The runner was a three-striker who didn’t want to go back for good. When the day comes that these yahoos can outrun me, they’re free to go anywhere they want.

“Within minutes there were plenty of eyes and hands on scene, but I caught the prying gaze of an onlooker more in tune with my height and build. He was on the other side of a chain link fence separating the scene from a neighboring tow yard.

“‘Good work, officer,’ he told me, as I approached the fence.

“‘
Who are you?’ I said.

“‘
I’m no one, pal. Just a dog on the wrong side of a fence.’

“‘
You got a name?’

“‘
Yeah I do. What happened to Lincoln? He retire?’

“It was him. Hammer. He’d been there a few years and didn’t miss the force since walking away. Which is exactly what he did. He jimmied the kennel door open that night and never looked back. He was years removed from the chiseled dog in the help-missing posters. His fur had faded and the skin around his mouth and neck hung in boredom. His whiskers drooped as did his ears.

“The day he left for good he’d been on a traffic stop on the side of the freeway during rush hour. Nothing special; expired tags and a speeding ticket. While he sat in the backseat of the unit waiting for his partner to clear the stop, Hammer heard an outburst of horns and saw a semi truck, clearly not paying attention, barreling straight at him. Hammer watched it first weave into the shoulder towards the squad car then jerk back into traffic moments before it would’ve plowed into the squad car.

“A breath away from death will give anyone a fresh look on life. Hammer’s new outlook was DOA. He said in that moment that he learned how powerless he was and always had been powerless. There was nothing was able to control. He took it as a warning. He was a good cop, a good partner, and a good dog. At that moment in the squad car, none of it mattered. One random occurrence and the lights could go out for good. Once that dam broke in his mind, Hammer was never going to go back to pretending that any of those things, the accolades, the good deeds, meant anything if they could all go away in the snap of the finger. He couldn’t control if he lived or died. So what was there to care about?

“He said the only peace he found was one where he removed all order from his life. He didn’t feel bad for leaving the other cops behind. He wandered up and down the coast and found his way into that lot where he slept all day and watched the place at night. They fed him. They called him Chucho. They left him alone.

“He had a life where a swerving truck could be the end, so he made sure that there would be no more swerving trucks.”

“Wow,” Ernie said. I’m not sure he got the point of the story, but he seemed impressed by it. I’m not sure I got the point of the story either. I’d been thinking a lot about Hammer. I didn’t want to be another Hammer. I was not going to be a Chucho.

The door to the yard opened and Nipper was let back in, still dripping wet. He shook himself as dry as he could. Officer Hart was more wet than before. Looked like Nipper put up a fight.

“Fritz, come here.” It was my turn for the treatment. I met Officer Hart at the door and I saw how tired he was. His face was puffy and his shoulders hung low. He looked me over and scratched my chest. I wondered how I looked to him. “You’re fine, Fritz.”

Officer Hart shut the door. I sat down and kept my eyes on the door. This whole life-in-the-backyard thing was not going to work.

“Oh, come on,” Nipper said. “That is not fair at all. Why doesn’t he get a torture bath like we did? What, am I surprised at this point? Figures.”

“I guess he don’t need one,” Ernie said, while more diplomatic, he matched Nipper’s tone.

“Yeah, well, something stinks around here.”

The two of them dispersed to different spots in the yard. Nipper to the food bowl. Ernie to the opposing wall. I joined Nipper at the food bowl. He turned his body away from me to shield the food.

“You want to get out of here?” I said.

“I want to eat,” Nipper said
, between bites.

“I’m not stopping you, Nipper. Just hear me out. I’m not saying I’m leaving forever, but there’s something I need to do. I need help.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Nipper said.

“I could use your help.”

“Like I said, good luck with that one.”

“Nipper-”

“What do you want from me,” Nipper said, looking up as food fell from his mouth. “You show up, Ernie likes you, you get my costume at the park. Scarlet likes you, and I’m left on the sidelines as the big punch line. I’m tired of being the joke, and with you around here I might as well be invisible, so do me a favor and don’t rub it in my face and just let me be. Is that too much to ask of the super dog?”

“Why don’t you come with me? I could use some backup.”

“Did you just hear what I said? Even if I knew where you were going, and why, and how, and on the miniscule chance that I wanted to go with you, I’m not going to be some dog’s rhythm section.”

“You wouldn’t be my rhythm section. It would be like our own patrol unit.”

“I don’t think so, Fritz.”

“Let me try to explain to you, Nipper. Before I was on the force, they had a dog named Lincoln. Before Lincoln, there was a dog named Hammer. Hammer was everything you could ask for in an officer to the letter, but this story is about Lincoln, the dog who had to follow Hammer. For reasons beyond his control, Lincoln spent the first weeks of his tenure trying to find the dog that he replaced. Can you imagine what that does to someone mentally? You want to do the best job you can, but you know that your reward is going to be a one way ticket to a demotion at best. At worst, he’d get moved to another department and all because he proved he was a capable officer.

“The memories of Hammer could never get far enough behind him. Everyone had a Hammer story; the time he did this extraordinary thing or the other time when he did something unbelievably brave. So Lincoln chose to do what he thought he was supposed to do: be like Hammer. He started taking risks on the job, he’d jump off things, he’d run harder than he should, and he’d make stupid choices to go for the glory. The result was that he went from being a highly skilled officer to someone who was accident prone, who got hurt, and who endangered people. So, sure, he earned a reputation as Hammer had, but it wasn’t the one he was seeking. Had he just been the best Lincoln he could, they would’ve forgotten about Hammer-”

“I get it,” Nipper said.

“I’m not finished,” I said.

“Be yourself and don’t try to be anyone else. I got it. Contrary to what you may think, I’m not stupid. And your little moral, it’s easier said than done.”

“Ernie’s gonna come with me.”

“Sure he is,” Nipper said, looking past me to Ernie. “Ernie, are you going with Fritz?”

“I don’t know,” Ernie said. “Where’re we going, Fritz?”

“We’re escaping to solve a case. You in?”

“What case?” Nipper said.

“The one I was on before I got sent here.”

“Aren’t the police already working on it?” Nipper said.

“Maybe. But I’m not. That’s the point. I’m going to get Clay. He and Scamper put me here and they don’t get to say where I spend the rest of my life. I do. So I’m going out there and I’m bringing them down. You want to come, Ernie?”

“Okay, sure. Sounds fun.”

“Fun?” Nipper said.

“Yeah,” Ernie said. “Doesn’t it?”

“Told ya, Nipper. I could use a smart dog out there with me, especially if Ernie’s all I got so far.”

Finally, I got a grin out of him.

Later, it was quiet inside and outside the Hart house. My eyes closed while my brain worked up a plan. Ernie was asleep, sprawled out on his back against the stucco. Nipper was wide awake. He approached Ernie and sat next to him. Nipper got up and paced around and sat next to Ernie again. Got up, walked, sat, and got up, all driving me nuts.
Oh, just wake him up already
. He sat one more time and gently pawed at Ernie.

“Hey,” Nipper
said, whispering. He sat still for at least a minute before pawing Ernie’s arm. “Hey,” he said again, now pawing at Ernie’s shoulder.