Might snow after all. Trip to Walgreens cold as hell. Jean jacket isnt cutting it. I take me a sec to zip my zipper high and I peep three children done up like space dudes jumping over a gutter and piling themself in a car with two duck tape windows. I know exactly what those space dudes are up to. Back when Moms was mobile we did the same thing. Yellow Street candies suck balls. You want candies that dont suck balls, you get your ass drove to a hood thats got tall gates and good lawns. The ladies there do trick or treat like theyre in a contest. I used to get sparkle pouches full a incredible loot like candies with french on it or gold foil or salt which I know sounds foul but, robocop, hear me out, cuz salt on candies is sick.
* * *
Plenty a Yellow Street kids dont have wheels though so I expect words gonna travel fast Robbies passing out high quality treats. Thats what Im pondering when I spot Deformo a couple blocks away shuffling his deformed ass in my direction, probably after food but more likely to supply my punk brain gruesome nightmares forever. So I swerve hard on Dawson Ave and thats when boom I see Dag.
* * *
I stop sudden. Dags supposed to be home learning lesbian music with Piano Lady. But there she is, chilling in front of the grocery with the upside down carts and busted ass lottery signs. She hasnt changed clothes or nothing. Still wearing the red jacket with the zippers, still got scabs on her knuckles where she boxed Robbies light switch.
* * *
Dag was in a mood last time I saw her so I oughta walk by quiet. But its Dag! I wave my arms like a fool and just about yell <How you living, my ho?> but then I remember this is where we spied Gwendolyn this morning. Is Dag chasing that dog by herself? Whats up with that secretive sharkweek? She hasnt done that before. Or, dang, maybe she has. Maybe she does it regular. Maybe I dont know Dag so good after all. Theres a Christmas tree ornament on the cement thats still got a gummy price tag and I crunch it with my snowboot. Christmas? Nope. Christmas is never coming. Its gonna be Halloween forever.
* * *
For real, I got a mind to Walgreen my ass out a there. But I step closer just to get a better peep. Dags reaching out with what looks like a Dorito and her lips are saying soft sensitive junk to Gwendolyn whos just out a reach shivering real low like dogs do. A little closer, I see how Dags trailed a whole Dorito trail to lure the dog but that dog aint falling for it. Cant tell for sure but Dag might be crying cuz a her huge emotions. Now theres no way I can run off to Walgreen. How am I supposed to leave my best bitch?
* * *
A big brave feeling grabs me. Dags fixed on Gwendolyn, right? And Gwendolyns fixed on Dag? Neither a thems paying attention to me. So I get my creep on and sneak my short ass behind this car without any wheels or doors. I get on my stomach navy seal style and crawl behind this cardboard hill that looks like Deformo probably squats there and I do it easy cuz you know how tight my abs are. Now Im close enough to hear their asses, how Dags all desperate and sad and Gwendolyns moaning and crunching her Doritos both.
* * *
The layouts ideal. Longside the grocery front theres stacked a rusty old washing machine and a big blue postal box on its side and I get right up behind it with Gwendolyn three feet away tops. I pause to get some breaths in and wish I had some a Robbies dog stuff. Doggie toys or doggie rawhide treats, any a that stuff would help right now. Robbie might even know special tricks about how to get a dog to let you be nice. Robbies not here though. I got to do this by myself. I peek around the washing machine real slow and the dogs right there. Right now is when I need to steady hero this scene.
* * *
I leap like a jaguar! Gwendolyn flattens her filthy ass to the cement and Dag cusses a cuss word and then boom, I hit the ground with my arms and legs caging that wild animal. She goes crazy like shes one big hairy muscle, clenching and twisting, but I bust out my courage and stick my hands in that hairy mess and even though theres hot breath and sharp claws flying all over, I grip a hand around a skinny leg and a arm around some bony ass ribs and next thing you know I rock back to my knees and I got that mutt! I got that scraggly ass, mud covered, broke tail having mutt!
* * *
Dags shocked. Real shocked. I try to give her a smile but its hard with this street beast wiggling and chomping. I squeeze tight till some a her fight goes away and then I stand up and hold that dog proud. Dag looks like shes about to poop. I start laughing and I come up to Dag cuz this is what shes been waiting for forever. Not winning class vice president or best debator or top piano bitch. Dags truest wish is to pet this filthy animal and her man made it happen. Her man. Thats me. Hey maybe Dag and me can take care of her together. Maybe Gwendolyn can be my seeing eye dog with a official vest if I do end up scooping my eyeballs out one day.
* * *
Last thing I need is this animal taking a piece out a Dag though so I dig my fingers deep in its tangled up fur. Hold up, hold up. Things dont feel right. I stop walking and feel closer with my fingers. Gwendolyns skin isnt normal. Feels knobby and squooshy like bubble wrap. I hitch the dog up in one arm and brush the fur back so I can get a look. Wheres her skin at? I cant find any pink skin. Wait up. Aw, hell no. Hell no. No, no, no.
* * *
Ticks! Hundreds a ticks! Hiding right under the fur! Big ticks, small ticks, black ticks, brown ticks, yellow ticks, green ticks, red ticks, orange ticks, so many theyre piled like grapes. The dogs shining in the sun cuz a all them fat glossy ticks. I get a disgusting shiver down my back cuz Im touching all a them plump ass blood filled suckers, and when I move my hand even a little the fattest ones pop and bleed out hot. Sharkweek! Sharkweek! I dont even know what to do! Im just standing there holding that sick oozy bitch!
* * *
Dags covering her face with both hands. Dorito dusts smearing all over her cheeks. She starts whining too, at least thats what I think first. But that aint Dag. Thats the dog. I look down and Gwendolyn looks up and even though Ive seen her a billion times its like I never saw her for real. Eyes crapped up with brown scum worse than pinkeye. Nose crusted shut. Gums super puffy and red. And shes shaking. Shaking rough.
* * *
The dogs done fighting her doggie fight. I can tell. Shes not even a dog no more. Shes a ball a ticks sucking her ass dry till shes just a bag a fur. Just like the whole town is sucking Robbie dry, just like I said. Gwendolyn looks at me the way I bet she looked at the evil maniac that abandoned her ass on the street. Its the look of trust. Dogs trusting me to do what needs done.
* * *
I set Gwendolyn on the cement and she tucks her legs up under. Me and Dag squat close. Shes not gonna bite. She aint got any bite left in her. When Dag holds a Dorito in front a Gwendolyns mouth, she sticks out a pale ass tongue and licks it but its like shes just doing Dag a favor. Me and Dag havent said a single word. Both a us are petting that dog right over the ticks. Its ill as hell but dang. Theres nothing else to do.
* * *
My stainless steel throwing disc is the finest weapon I ever owned. Its not even a contest. Whenever I slide it out of its free of charge nylon pouch I feel full a the magic and mystery of the orient. Its not about ninjas dropping ninjas. Its about being a monk, being for peace and accepting your fate, plus also the fate of everything great and small. Case you forgot, my throwing disc is shaped like a circle but its split into three scythes like a grim reaper has and each a them joins up in the middle in a impressive dragon shape.
* * *
I pull aside some a the fur on Gwendolyns throat and scrape off a few ticks and puts a scythe right against her neck. When the dog whimpers it vibrates the stainless steel dragon and its like the dragons whimpering too. Dag scooches over and holds my shoulder. Her face is closer to mine than its ever been before and she isnt worried about catching my pinkeye or nothing.
* * *
Gwendolyns broke ass tail starts wagging. Wagging cuz she knows. Sharkweek. Sharkweek. Robbie treated his old dog good, right? Far as I can tell he did. Right here I need to try and do just as good, do what a mans supposed to do. Except I dont want to be a man no more, all right? Im just gonna be a little ass kid, okay? Im gonna climb into some nice ass car and trick or treat my ass over in the fancy hood where all the dogs are alive and happy. All right?
* * *
Dags crying dry. More like coughing. Like shes run out a liquid. Those are the miserable facts too. Yeah, Dag has her a moms and a pops and a piano lesbian and teachers and math friends and fellow fluters, all that stuff. The truth, though? Shes aloner than me. The only companion she had for real was Lotte and Lotte doesnt exist anymore. Lottes just a address where Dag mails beautiful paper. I mean, look. Dags not stopping the dragon. Dags not saying <No, Jody, dont do it.> She could try all day to save her sister or save this dying ass dog. But whats the right thing to really do? You know good as me and I guess Dag knows it too. Shes got to cut both them bitches loose and its my duty to man up, be the monk, help out the best I can.