Chapter 35.

As Josh drove the twists and turns of the road to Soule’s Market, he couldn’t help imagining Tucker as Rune had described him in her dream, with drooping head and tail. Josh had never seen the dog act listless, but now he could picture him that way. Gardner Harrison had probably dumped Tucker at the shelter already. Josh remembered the way he’d seen Gardner look at the dog. He’d heard Gardner say, “If my wife weren’t so fond of you . . .” And that was before Tucker had caused Carol to fall and injure herself.

Heavy clouds darkened the day, increasing Josh’s sense of emergency. If he could only catch Gardner before he turned Tucker in. Nip him in the butt, as it were, so that Josh wouldn’t have to apply to the shelter to adopt the dog. For one thing, he’d have to pay a fee of several hundred dollars.

But that wasn’t the main problem. By the time Josh turned into Soule’s parking lot, fat raindrops splattering his windshield, he was obsessing over how to answer the questions that shelters asked. He knew them well, from reading dozens of application forms at the Westham shelter. Employment: Occupation? Years employed? Employer? He could try convincing them that he would soon be a re-employed teacher. Or maybe a business owner? Anyway, something more solid than a doggy day care attendant.

Your Home was worse. What type of home do you live in? House? Apartment? Condominium? If you rent, does your lease allow dogs? None of the above. If Josh took possession of Tucker, Barbara would lose all patience with him. My home: cheap motel.

He could lie, but he knew that shelters checked up on those things.

The parking lot of the market was almost full, so Josh had to find a place at the far end, near the Pooch Park car ports. Taking out his phone, he called the Mattakiset Animal Shelter. If Tucker was already there, no point in talking to Gardner.

A male person answered the phone, and Josh thought he recognized the voice of the rude youth who’d reached with leather gloves for the black and white cat.

Josh started to ask if anyone had turned in a Lab-terrier mix, light brown with a black nose, but the young man interrupted, “Can you hold?” Without waiting for Josh’s answer, he transferred him to a recording about the shelter’s current fundraiser.

Josh took a deep breath. All right, he could hold.

Five minutes went by while Josh watched rain slide down his windshield. Then the line went dead. Someone had hung up on him. “You jerk!”

Struggling to stay calm, Josh started to redial. Something he’d seen, but not taken in, tickled his mind: There in the Pooch Park was a silver station wagon like Gardner Harrison’s car. Something moved inside the car, barely visible through the rain now falling steadily.

In an instant Josh was out of his own car and jogging toward the Pooch Park. The dog in Gardner’s car began to bark, poking his black nose out the half-open back window.

“Hey, buddy!” As Josh reached the window, Tucker squirmed and whined, swiping at Josh’s face with his tongue. Josh put his hands on the dog’s ears and leaned down for a smooch.

Well! Gardner was in Soule’s Market. “We’re in luck,” Josh told the dog. “I’ll be right back.” With a last rumple of Tucker’s shoulders, Josh turned and plunged through the rain for the store entrance, followed by disappointed barks.

In the store, Josh checked the deli counter first. It was crowded, and several of the crowd were older men with gray hair and preppy clothing, but no Gardner. Check dairy, since Josh was now at the back of the store? Or wait, maybe Gardner was already in a checkout line. Why hadn’t Josh looked there first?

Josh sprinted up the bread and peanut butter aisle, dodging around customers, muttering “Excuse me—sorry—excuse me.” Just as he reached the front of the store, he spotted a man with silver hair, wearing a green polo shirt tucked into his shorts, pushing a cart out the exit. “Gardner!”

The clerks at the cash registers and several customers stared at Josh, but the gray-haired man didn’t even turn his head as the doors closed behind him. Elbowing his way past the express lane customers, Josh dashed for the exit.

But even as Josh burst out into the rain, the man he was chasing opened the trunk of a Camry. Now Josh could see his profile, and it was that of an elderly cherub, nothing like Gardner’s senatorial features.

“You clueless wonder,” Josh told himself. He trotted along the front of the store and in the IN doors again, looking over his shoulder in case Gardner was sneaking out.

This time he searched the checkout lines first, then walked quickly along the front of the store, peering down each aisle. The trouble was, there was the possibility that each time he looked down an aisle, Gardner might have just stepped out of sight at the other end. Frozen vegetables, frozen dinners—no Gardner. Paper goods—no. Cleaning supplies—no.

Josh swung past a high stack of charcoal briquettes bags—and found himself only a few feet from a silver-haired man in polo shirt and Madras shorts. “Hey!”

Gardner turned from chatting with the butcher. “Josh. I have a bone to pick with you.” The older man gave him a closer look. “Is something the matter?”

Out of breath, Josh rested his hands on his thighs. “No. No, fine.” He tried to stop panting. “So, I just talked to Carol about Tucker.”

Gardner frowned at him. “What?”

“I stopped by your house and talked to Carol, a few minutes ago. She said you’d decided to give Tucker up, and I offered to take him off your hands.”

Without answering Josh, Gardner turned back to the butcher. “I’m going to have the lamb chops. Can you cut me two, double-thick?”

“Tucker and I are a better match,” Josh went on. “I’ve had a lot of experience training dogs, and Tucker could be a great pet, if he had consistent attention and discipline. And of course—” Josh was about to finish, “of course I’m younger and stronger,” but he thought better of it and said instead, “Tucker and I just have a special rapport.”

“Really,” said Gardner. “A match made in doggy heaven.” He gave Josh an even stare. “To be honest, I’m not pleased that you bothered Carol this morning. Thank God she didn’t break anything when she fell, but she sure bruised herself, and I know her sprained ankle hurts like hell.”

Josh took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. She didn’t seem— Look, we don’t need to discuss this anymore, if you’ll just let me have Tucker. Please.”

Harrison accepted a package from the butcher and told him, “Give me a pork sirloin, too. That one.” He turned back toward Josh. “You’ve been frank about my deficiencies as a dog owner, so I’ll tell you something frankly. I’m not sure you’re a great prospect to adopt a dog. From what I’ve seen, you don’t have a steady job, you don’t have a permanent address, and you sure don’t have good judgment about choosing friends.”

“Okay,” Josh admitted. “But all that is changing.”

Taking a second package from the butcher, Gardner shrugged. “You can explain it to the folks at the animal shelter.”

“You’re going to make me apply to adopt at the shelter, just out of spite?”

Gardner headed for the produce section without answering. Josh went on, “That would be cruel. And asinine!”

Josh stared at the older man’s back as Gardner disappeared behind a display of potted chrysanthemums. Then he turned and walked out through the market into a downpour. Fuck you, Harrison.

Lightning crackled as Josh splashed in the direction of his car, and the following thunder booted him past the Civic, at a run, toward the Pooch Park. Tucker: thunderstorm phobic, thought Josh. The dog was ricocheting around the station wagon, letting out an eerie howl. As Josh reached through the open window, he felt Tucker shuddering.

Unlocking the door, Josh seized the dog’s collar. There was a leash on the floor of Harrison’s backseat, but it didn’t seem right to take it. Josh and Tucker ran awkwardly toward his car.

Letting Tucker scramble into the backseat, Josh wondered how many illegal acts he’d just committed. His knowledge of criminal law was sketchy; he’d completed one semester of law school before deciding that he would not become an attorney, like his father. Breaking and entering? No, he hadn’t broken into Gardner’s car. Trespassing, maybe. What about stealing a dog—was that a felony? A free-floating quotation, “Possession is nine-tenths of the law,” popped into Josh’s head. That couldn’t be right.

With his windshield wipers laboring to keep up, Josh drove past Cumby’s, then the Fur-Ever Cat Shelter, then the dairy farm. Each time lightning crackled and thunder boomed, Tucker moaned and pushed his muzzle into Josh’s neck. The dog’s trembling shook the seat. The problem with dogs believing that humans were gods, thought Josh, was that they expected you to control the weather.

As Josh pulled into the Coastal Canine driveway, the storm seemed to be letting up. He looked back at Tucker, who promptly licked his face. He couldn’t just leave the dog here in his car, in plain sight, in case Gardner came looking for him. He’d better park somewhere else.

Josh drove slowly back up Main Road, his eyes searching the landscape for an inconspicuous parking place. The ice cream stand? Too exposed. The dairy farm? He didn’t know those people. Cumby’s? Also too exposed, and a long way to walk.

The Fur-Ever sign, shaped like a house with a door that outlined a cat’s head, caught Josh’s eye. The cat shelter’s driveway curved past a stand of pines. They must have a place to park there, and it was out of sight from the road. Josh turned in, his mind busy with explanations for the cat people: He only wanted to park for a few hours; he was a major—well, minor—donor to Fur-Ever; he was a personal friend of that cat champion Rune Borden . . .

On the other side of the pine trees, there were several parking spaces in front of a low building. Two cars were already there, one of them a white van lettered with FUR-EVER CAT RESCUE and one a yellow VW. Rune herself leaned against her car, talking with a dark-haired man.

Josh called, “Hey, Rune! Can I ask you—”

Rune glanced in his direction, but she held up her palm and kept on talking to the other man—Neil, the fireman.

“Okay, then,” said Rune, “pick me up in the van at five-fifteen.” Neil nodded and waved, and Rune stepped over to Josh’s car. “Hey. What’re you doing here? Did you change your mind about Pansy?” Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the dog. “Tucker! What’re you doing here?”

Josh took a breath to explain. Behind him, Tucker panted and wiggled, his tail whacking the car seats as he leaned out the window toward his friend Rune.

Scratching Tucker behind the ears, Rune smiled sideways at Josh. “I didn’t think you had it in you. You kidnapped Tucker.”

“No, it’s not like that.” Josh laughed uneasily. “Carol said—it was fine with Carol for me to have him. Anyway, is it okay if I park here?”

“I can see . . . Oh, I can see why you and Tucker would be a good match,” said Rune. “But are you sure you want to tangle with Gardner Harrison? He’s the King of Swords type, you know?”

“Just tell me, yes or no,” snapped Josh. “Can I leave my car here for the rest of the afternoon?”

 

 

 

 

The fog comes

On little cat feet.

Carl Sandburg