Gramps smiled with his perfect white dentures. “Ah, you are so much like your mother, Maria.”
“My mother, the Queen Witch,” she tried the words in her mouth. “How weird.”
They ate their breakfast, and Sherlock polished off the cake, leaving blue icing around his lips. Maria didn’t bother telling him about it, because that made it funnier.
She threw on her work apron and went outside to wait for Claire to pick her up. Even on days when Claire didn’t work, she’d swing by, driving the two miles to Maria’s house, and give Maria a ride. When Maria insisted that Claire didn’t have to do that, Claire would just shake her head and say, ‘That’s what friends are for. Plus, I just love driving. If we were to ever rob a bank, I’d want to be the getaway driver.’
“Oh, Maria!” Gramps called. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Maria looked back, confused.
Sherlock walked slowly to the door, feeling dejected that Maria had forgotten him.
“Sherlock?” Maria said.
“It’s for the best, since you two are on talking terms now. You and Sherlock have always been connected. You communicate on a plane of reality not many Oricerans can reach.” He smiled, his eyes hazy with memory. “Just like your mother.”
“Well, this is certainly not the reaction I was expecting. I was expecting more of a ‘Hold-on-Maria-while-I-call-the-psych-ward,’ but I’m glad to be wrong.”
Gramps chuckled. “If talking to a dog is considered crazy, then we should’ve been in the loony bin a long time ago.”
Claire honked the horn again. She didn’t want to be late.
“Well, c’mon, Sherlock.”
I’m coming, I’m coming. Need to walk off this cake.
“You need to learn self-control.” Maria opened the door and gave Claire a wave. Claire didn’t wave back. She scowled.
I’m a dog; there’s no such thing as self-control.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” She leaned over and kissed her grandfather on one cheek. “I’ll be back a little late tonight. I’m going to go to the gym and do some kickboxing. Gotta get fit if I’m gonna beat up any Arachnids.” She grinned, but Gramps didn’t think it was funny. She rolled her eyes. “Kidding, kidding. Just need to blow off some steam.”
“Just be careful, Maria.”
“I will.”
Outside, Claire wailed from the driver’s seat, “Aw, not the smelly dog again.”
I just ate almost an entire cake. She’s really going to hate me.
“Plug it up, Sherlock.”
If only.
“Don’t worry,” Maria fibbed, “he hasn’t had breakfast yet.”
“Really?” Claire said. “Because it looks like he’s about to blow.”
Maria glanced down at Sherlock. He looked about eight months pregnant.
“No worries,” she said. Then to Sherlock, “You’d better hold it in.”
They drove to the mall with all the windows down, but it didn’t do much to cover the stench.
I tried my best, Sherlock whimpered.
Maria ignored him.
Claire parked the car. “Ah, another day in hell—I mean, paradise.”
Maria chuckled.
“You go ahead. I’m gonna walk Sherlock first. I’ll see you inside.”
“You should just keep him out here. Tie him to the tree or let him loose in the dumpster. I bet he’d love that.”
Sherlock’s tail thumped the back seat.
I would. I really would. Imagine all the Chinese food they throw away on a daily basis!
“No, sir; you’re stuck with popcorn today, Sherlock.” Maria opened the door and got out.
“Popcorn?” Claire asked. “That can’t be healthy.”
Maria shrugged. “Hey, it’s technically a vegetable.”
Both girls laughed. Claire went in the Employees Only entrance while Maria walked Sherlock.
“Smell anything?”
Only that delicious dumpster and some stale tobacco smoke.
“Good. Yesterday, a creepy guy was watching me from the parking lot.” Maria shivered.
Who was it?
“I’m pretty sure it was Duke. It definitely wasn’t a giant spider.”
Sherlock lifted his leg and marked his territory on a row of bushes. A landscaper was trimming the other end of the bushes. He looked up and gave Maria a glare.
“Sorry!” she said sheepishly, waving her hand. “Great,” she muttered to Sherlock. “Now not only am I on a giant spider’s shit-list, but I’m also on Gary the gardener’s. Today is shaping up to be just peachy. Try not to piss on anyone else’s roses, please.”
No promises.
“You finished?” she asked, exasperated.
Yeah, I could use some popcorn.
Maria sighed. “It’s just gonna be you and I at the Popcorn Palace today. Beth comes in at four to replace me. I doubt Ted will even show up; if he does, you have to hide or act like you’re a stray. Shouldn’t be too hard, considering how much you smell.”
If you ever go blind, I’m going to volunteer to be your seeing-eye dog, and I’m going to lead you right off a cliff, Sherlock said.
“Aw, that’s so sweet. But know I’m taking you down with me.”
Sherlock stood up on his hind legs and gave Maria a kiss. One giant,wet swipe of his tongue.
“Love you, Sherlock.”
I licked a dead squirrel this morning, just so you know.
“Bleh,” Maria said, swiping the dog spit from her face. “I take back everything good I’ve ever said about you.”
Oh, wow, three sentences. That’s mighty fine of you, Maria.
She tugged on the leash. “C’mon. Popcorn isn’t going to pop itself.” Then she remembered yesterday how the popcorn kind of did pop itself, and she shook her head, thinking, Magic.
It was a normal day at the Popcorn Palace. Rolling Hill Mall’s business was going down the drain. Weekends were all right, but on weekdays, hardly anyone came in. Not to mention that the popcorn place opened at ten in the morning, with the rest of the stores. Who in their right mind wants popcorn this early?
The only people walking around the mall were the senior citizens decked out in their workout gear — running shoes, sweatpants with the reflective stripe down the side of the leg, sweatshirts and headbands, odometers around their necks, and fresh coffee in their hands. They were the walkers. No, not walkers as in ‘zombies,’ but walkers as in ‘the folks who walked laps around the mall’.
Maria didn’t mind them. They were always friendly, and most of them were interesting—except for the occasional creepy old guy
