me look through his papers, I was overjoyed to learn there were rare dogs that didn’t need the operation in order to learn a facsimile of human speech.”
“Dogs like Java?”
“Like Java,” Mitty said. “It took me years to find him.”
“Maybe Buddy and Java just happen to be similar,” Braddock said.
“Certain breeds… ” Mitty said mystically.
Braddock looked again at the yellowed newspaper clippings and photographs on the table. “I’ve got to admit, you were impressive, you and Buddy.”
“It could be Braddock and Java,” Mitty said. “This is a way for you to beat this business, Jim! This is opportunity knocking, if only you’ll believe it’s out there!”
“Opportunity usually has a price,” Braddock said, remembering this was L.A.
“It does this time, too,” Mitty told him. “I’d never lie to you. Java is valuable and he’s all I have to sell. I’ve gotta get six thousand dollars for him.”
“Six
“Yes, you do! I heard you say you sold some foreign rights to a screenplay you wrote four years ago, when you were only nineteen.”
“That’s the only thing I ever sold,” Braddock said. “And if it weren’t for that money I’d have to get a j-j-”
“Job,” Mitty said.
“I have difficulty even saying the word,” Braddock told him, feeling a chill.
“So did I when I was your age. That’s because our kind knows our calling, our business. Don’t you understand? I’m offering you the way in! Chaplin with his tramp outfit and cane! Laurel with Hardy! The three tenors! Braddock and Java!”
“Why six thousand dollars?” Braddock asked.
“It’s the cost of a fu-It’s the exact price of something I need.”
“But I’ve never even heard Java talk.”
“But he
“So show me. Make him perform.”
“You can’t make a shy dog do something like talk if he doesn’t want to.”
“Make him want to, if you want to make me want to buy him.”
Mitty glanced at Edgar, who looked away and began polishing glasses with a gray towel.
Mitty turned his gaze on Java, who also looked away.
“I do not wish to appear the fool,” Mitty said.
“That isn’t my intention,” Braddock said honestly.
Mitty sighed, then tugged on Java’s leash and signaled with his hand for the dog to sit. Java settled back on his haunches, staring expectantly at Mitty with watery brown eyes. Spaniel eyes, Braddock suspected.
Mitty looked around. He didn’t seem to want any more witnesses to this than was necessary.
“He can’t pronounce just any words,” he said to Braddock.
“Of course not.” Braddock wished he hadn’t started this. There’d been no reason to dare the old geezer, to humiliate him.
Mitty found a sheet of yellowed paper from the assortment on the table, unfolded it, then put on a pair of half-lens reading glasses and referred to it. Braddock saw that it contained a handwritten list of about twenty words.
“He can’t say all of these yet,” Mitty said, noticing Braddock staring at the list. “They’re Buddy’s old words. There’ll never be another Buddy.”
“Of course not,” Braddock said, feeling smaller than Java. “Start with something easy.”
“Awful,” Mitty said.
“What?”
But Mitty was staring intently at Java, who still had his moist brown eyes fixed on the old man.
Java turned his head, looking away as if embarrassed.
“Awful!” Mitty shouted again, with a note of desperation.
Mitty, his face flushed in triumph, looked at Braddock. “You heard! You heard!”
Braddock was stunned, yet dubious. He remembered what Edgar the bartender had said about the government scientists. It was natural to be skeptical. “It might have been a bark. I mean, it started with the word
“A
Mitty beamed. “Awful!”
“Awful!” Mitty was consulting his list, not even looking at Java.
“Tree!” shouted Mitty.
“Car!”
“House!”
“My God!” said Braddock.
Edgar was leaning over the bar in shock. “I read about it, but I never seen it.”
Mitty hugged Java, then collapsed back in his chair, breathing hard, exhausted but wearing his seamed smile. “I’ve got to be honest, that’s as good as I’ve ever heard him.”
“He talked!” Edgar was saying over and over. “He really talked!”
“He talked,” Braddock admitted, not knowing what to think, how to feel.
“That’s why we were big, Buddy and me. It’s why you and Java can be big, Jim. Jim and Java. That’s even better than Braddock and Java!”
Braddock’s heart was hammering as he stared down at Java. “Awful!” he shouted at the dog.
That did it. “Will you take a check?”
“From you, of course,” Mitty said. “Just make it out to Mitford Chambers for seven thousand even.”
“You said six thousand!”
“Did I? Make it five thousand then, Jim. I don’t want you to feel bad about this day. Not ever.”
THAT NIGHT BRADDOCK folded a soft blanket in a corner of his tiny apartment for Java to sleep on. But the next morning Java was in bed beside him. The dog had drooled on the pillow.
At breakfast, after Java had finished his dog food, Bradford swallowed a bite of egg and shouted, “Awful!”
Java barked back something that sounded like
“House!” shouted Braddock. “House!”
“Shut up!” shouted Maureen Waters, his unemployed neighbor in the adjacent apartment. She was an aging character actress prone to violence.
Braddock sighed, looked at the list of command words and instructions Mitty had given him, then made sure Java had plenty of water. As he left the apartment, he carefully locked the door behind him.
Savvie’s wasn’t like yesterday. There were half a dozen customers at the bar and tables even though it wasn’t yet noon. Lou Savvie himself, a slender, jovial man who looked like the aged Frank Sinatra and knew it, was tending bar.
“Ring-a-ding-ding,” he said, when he saw Braddock.
Braddock sat at the far end of the bar and ordered a coffee with cream. “Edgar working today?” he
