Chapter 5 "Cleetus"

The Animal Control officer was leaning against the passenger door of his truck. I tossed a cigarette at his chest and he caught it and flipped it into his mouth. I lit mine then leaned over to light his. He puffed on it for second.

"Damnedest thing I evah seen," he said in a hayseed drawl. "Been chasin that fucker around Cheesman park the last couple days. Son a' bitch et up a little terrier yesterday. When I got there, the little fucker had his guts spread over a couple squar' yards. The owner was this dandy little fella, all he could do to keep from cryin in fronta me."

I squinted at the animal control officer. His name badge said C. Mayhew. I imagined his first name was Cleetus. He looked like a Cleetus. All elbows and knees, dirt under the fingernails, pure corn-fed inbred. He had a skinny blonde cop mustache and dirty blonde hair. His eyes were set pretty close together, but he wasn't really an ugly man, you could just tell that at some point his family tree didn't have very many branches.

"It's hard to lose a pup, I guess I don't blame him," he continued. "But his dog had no ways defendin himself 'ginst that fucker over there." He gestured towards the now dead rotweiler. "Yer friend's some kinda guy, goin up against a full grown rotty like that. Sher wish we coulda got to him before he got all tore up like that." I nodded gravely. "I figur' he must a been hidin out back here where all them dumpsters were, eating on all the shit you guys been throwin out. I've been tryin to chase that mutt around like ah said for two, three days now, mmmhmmm. That fucker coulda bit the top of your friend's head clean off. If he got his neck, he coulda crushed the windpipe, your friend'd be a dead fucker."

"I wouldn't have let that happen, man," I mumbled. Cleetus snorted and spit. "Huh? You think you'd ah changed that rotty's mind huh?" He was looking me up and down. "Your friend got lucky."

"It's just a fucking dog, man. Why do you think we're on the top of the evolutionary ladder, top of the food chain?"

"What the hell you talkin 'bout?"

"I'm saying humans can kill dogs fairly easily, if that weren't the case the world would be ruled by dogs rather than people because they're physically and mentally superior to us humans."

Cleetus took a huge drag of the cigarette and blew it out of his nose. He was eyeballing me suspiciously as if I knew of a secret superior race of dogmen that were planning to take over the world.

There was quite a crowd gathered in back of the old King Soopers. Cleetus and I turned to survey the people simultaneously, somewhat wordlessly agreeing that our conversation had lapsed into an uncomfortable silence of sorts.

There was a full on fire crew, two squad cars, an ambulance and Cleetus' animal control vehicle along with half the staff of the grocery store and a couple of passerbys that were circling about in the dock area. Dean was talking to the officers at one squad car and started walking over towards us.

"Are you Carl?" Dean asked.

Cleetus said, "Yep."

So his name was Carl. "What are we going to do about the body," Dean was obviously grossed out.

"What do I look like?! Does this look like a rendering truck to you?!" Cleetus seemed offended. I was wondering what a rendering truck was.

"Well, your not just going to leave it here?!" Dean was wincing.

"Keep your britches on, porky. We gotta special truck for that. We gotta go test the fucker for rabies and such."

"Dean..." I said.

"Well do you think that you could maybe move it out of sight or something?"

"Helllll no. I gotta wait for the cops to take pictures, there's a whole procedure, sir."

"Dean, I'm taking the rest of the day off." Dean turned and focused on me.

"Christ. That means I'll only have Mona in the deli."

"She'll be fine." I walked off, nodding at Cleetus.

"Later on, Carl," I said and strolled over to the ambulance, flicking my cig to the ground. Dade was sitting just inside the doors. Most of his head was bandaged up already. "How are you doing killer?" He smiled through the bandages.

"Better since they started me on a little morphine drip. You know, you're not really an asshole."

"Yes, I am."

"No really. You're okay with me, buddy." He started laughing, "I'll never forget that you were first on the scene as a top rate cheering section. You know, they say I'm gonna need some pretty extensive plastic surgery.

"Chicks dig scars."

"Workman's comp is gonna be sweet. Hey..." He handed me a slip of paper. "Call my aunt and tell her what happened, and tell her to pick up Chloe at 3:45, she's exciteable, tell her I'm fine."

"Sure thing. I'll visit tomorrow."

"No, don't bother."

"Fuck off."

"Okay, so don't forget, okay?" He rearranged a bandage to get a better look at me. I grabbed his hand, the good one, and looked at him seriously and nodded.

I hopped out of the ambulance and walked over to Jamie who was smoking a cigarette next to the dead rotweiler. She was looking at it with some morbid curiosity. I stood there for quite awhile studying her studying the bloody corpse of the dog. I remember thinking how surreal and horrifically beautiful the whole scene was.

"I didn't know you were in a band," I said. She was still staring at the dog.

"How did this happen? I mean, poor Dade. What was that thing doing back here?"

"The Animal Control guy said it was a stray that had been running around this area for a couple of days. It tore up another dog yesterday." She looked at me with wide eyes. "Cleetus over there thought it had been eating out of this dumpster when Dade surprised it and, well, the rest is history. What's your band's name? Cat Power?"

"Kitty Mistress," she said dismissively and turned her eyes toward the bloody heap on the ground. "Look," she whispered. "It has it's tags still. I wonder what type of person would own such a dog." She nudged the dog with her foot, and recoiled slightly as if it were still alive. An officer from across the alley yelled something unintelligeble about a crime scene and returned to his conversation with two other officers. Just then Jaime grabbed me sharply by the shoulders. Our height difference made it look almost like she was going to kiss me. My heart fluttered. Instead she spun me around and placed me directly in front of the officers' view of her and she quickly bent down and started to take the dog's collar off.

"What the hell are you doing..." I was unamused.

"I want to know who the people were who owned this mongrel, now shut up and look natural," she whispered.

"Jaime.." But she was already done, she had tucked the collar into the front of her apron. She smiled at me. It was the smile of a little girl who had a secret. It was quite arousing. She pulled me close to her and whispered in my ear. "You have to tell me what happened back here, I'm dying to know."

I liked this intimate posture that we had taken. I grabbed her waist and cupped her the side of her face and whispered into her ear, "I'm going home."

"Ohhh no."

"What about drinks tonight?" I asked. She purred into my ear and laughed a little. Tiny prickles all over my body. "We can discuss that little clue you found."

"Pick me up at 6:30, okay?" With that, she spun around and walked towards the dock doors all pony tail and ass shake."

"Where?" I called after her.

"Here." She said simply. I then proceeded to slow time down as she walked away. It's too bad I didn't remember to do it while were in that psuedo embrace, but that'sthe way it is. You forget to pull the trigger sometimes. It would seem, however, that pulling the trigger with Jaime was in the mail, postmarked for her bedroom in the very near future. I couldn't believe my luck today.

I had a boner. A big boner.

My mind was racing, planning the next four or five hours until our next meeting. I still had to call Dade's aunt, maybe jerk off a few times. (Just in case. Heh. Heh. Heh.) Yeah, today was looking up. I might be spending the night without that damn hole in my chest, without that hollow longing for something, anything....