?He like to growl but that's about all,? the man said, still eyeing Socrates cautiously.
?Killer'd lick a razor blade if you'd let 'im. I don't think they taught survival in his brood.?
?Yeah, I know what you mean. Sometimes Johnny be wagging his tail, snarlin', and takin' a piss all at the same time.? The purple man smiled then he stuck out his hand and said, ?Lavant Hall.?
Socrates grabbed Lavant's right hand with his left because he was holding on to Killer's rope.
?Socrates Fortlow.?
?What happened to your dog's legs??
?Run over by a car,? Socrates said, shrugging slightly.
?How come you call him Killer if he so friendly?? Lavant Hall asked.
?I figger that if somebody hear me callin' him that they might stay offa my property on account'a the name.?
Lavant Hall laughed and took a pack of no-name brand cigarettes from his oversized shirt pocket. He shook the pack at Socrates and a single tan filter appeared. Socrates took the cigarette. That was etiquette on the prison yard and a habit Socrates kept even though he rarely smoked after moving to L.A.
When Socrates leaned forward to take a light from the skinny man Killer got a chance to sniff the shiny red dog. Johnny B. Goode snarled but he didn't back away or snap. He was sniffing too.
?That's a fancy-assed dog,? Socrates said with the familiarity of an old friend.
?Grand Long-Haired Red Terrier they call the breed,? Lavant said. ?It's a valuable dog but I ain't got the papers.?
?How come you don't??
? 'Cause I stole him off the street up in the Pacific Palisades.?
Socrates took a deep drag on his cigarette and held the smoke for a few seconds before exhaling.
?Why you steal him?? Socrates asked. ?You gonna sell him??
?No.?
?Hold him for ransom then?? Socrates was remembering Ahmed Jones, who used to say, on the recreation yard, that kidnapping favorite pets of rich people was just as lucrative as kidnapping their children but that the law didn't get that crazy over a missing cat or a dog.
?I ride a bicycle,? Lavant Hall said, smiling. ?I ride it everywheres just so they don't think that they could keep me down here. I don't need to be white or rich or nuthin' to go up in the canyons or down to the beach. Not as long as I got my legs and my bike? .?
Johnny B. Goode jumped on Killer's head but the larger dog shrugged him off and barked. Somehow the motion started the two men walking on a zigzag path through Will Rogers Park.
?? they cain't stop me from usin' the streets,? Lavant continued. ?Anyway I was up there at the Canyon Mall lookin' for a liquor store or someplace to get a soda pop 'cause it was hot an' I rode up all the way from down here? .?
There was a young couple lying near a bush in the lawn. They were kissing each other passionately, rubbing their hands all over each other's body. Socrates could see the big man's erection pressing urgently against his loose pants. The woman was holding on to it as if they were in a private room with the doors shut and locked.
?You see that,? Lavant Hall said, nodding toward the lovers. ?That's love right there on the ground. Ain't nuthin' t'be shamed about. An' if somebody don't like it then they don't have to look.?
They passed the lovers and Socrates asked, ?What about the dog??
?Yeah,? Lavant said. His smile flashed against a dark background of skin. ?I saw this woman wearing a fur coat that was probably chinchilla. I say that 'cause the fur was like feathers, like Johnny look. That's not mink or nuthin'. Mink's heavy. But you know that white woman made me mad. There she had that cute dog and she was wearin' ten or twelve other animals on'er back that looked just like him, at least their hair did.?
?So what you do?? Socrates asked. He was getting angry imagining the blood of some woman shed by a man who saw his own life in that of a dog.
