The vendor cart sold Italian sausages dressed withpeppers and onions on a warm bun. Vic bought two—they were a goodsize, easily half a foot long, and should hold him through thefirst part of his day. With the two buns wrapped in foil in onehand, a large cup of cold Coke in the other, he trotted back to hiscar, then noticed a bench at the end of the block. A bus stop, noless. So they already ran a route down this way. At least it isn’t mine, Vic thought as he tooka seat. The Coke went on the bench beside him, as did one of thesausages. The other disappeared in a couple heavenly bites.
In the distance, he heard laughter—the boys on thebikes, he suspected. Somewhere a dog barked, and along theBoulevard, cars and the occasional truck zoomed through theintersection. Brakes squealed when the light turned red. The dogbarked again, an agitated sound, as Vic started in on the secondsausage.
Dogs were too noisy, Vic thought. Especially thoselittle ones, the purse pooches so popular among Hollywood’s youngladies. At least cats were quiet creatures for the most part,though Vic had seen his landlady’s felines swarm around her legs asshe unpacked her groceries, and he didn’t think he could standsomething constantly under his feet like that. Or sitting on thedining room table grooming itself as he ate. Or sleeping in hisbed.
Why would Matt want a pet anyway? Vic didn’t recallhis lover ever mentioning one before. Before they met, Matt hadlived a playboy lifestyle—impeccable clothes, flashy sports car,gelled curls. There had been a hint of desperation in hisappearance, Vic realized looking back, something stand-offish thatsaid quite clearly, “Look but don’t touch.” Even though Matt hadsought him out after ditching his then-boyfriend Kyle, Vic had hadto work through that flirtatious exterior to find the real maninside.
It’d been an act, Vic knew that now, designed to keepothers at bay and hide Matt’s odd talent—the ability to endow hislover with superhuman power through intercourse. In the time they’dbeen together, Matt had matured in a lot of ways, mellowed out,settled down. He still strived to look good, but he didn’t wastemoney on designer jeans or the hottest fashions, and though hisJaguar was kept in running order, he wasn’t looking to splurge onthe latest model. He’d moved into Vic’s apartment and slowly takenover every aspect of his life. Matt didn’t live for himselfanymore; neither did Vic. Together they were complete, onecomplementing the other, neither whole when alone.
And truthfully? Vic wouldn’t have it any otherway.
Maybe Matt’s request for a pet was another step intheir relationship. It would be a big responsibility, one they’dhave to share. Almost like having ababy, Vic mused with a shake of his head. One that nevergrew up, one they’d have to feed and care for constantly. It was ahuge commitment, not to betaken lightly. First a pet, then a house, and God, then aring…
Vic felt his cheeks heat up at that. Lately he’d beennoticing the rings worn by the fares who rode his bus. Weddingrings with large diamonds, and thick gold bands that made hisstomach flutter with a nervousness alien to him. A band like that,on Matt’s hand, that he’d put there? Sweet Jesus, the thought madehim sweat. Talk about a big step—
Behind him, the dog’s incessant barking broke offinto a series of yelps. With something akin to relief, Vic droppedthe thought of a ring and reached out with his mind. He couldn’tcommunicate with animals, he knew—it wasn’t that they didn’t thinkso much as what went on inside their heads was so foreign to him,he couldn’t comprehend it. And though he wasn’t an animal lover byany stretch of the imagination, Vic knew the sound of pain when heheard it. Those yelps weren’t healthy. That dog was hurting.
A mental scan of the area turned up the three boys,their bikes discarded just inside a break in the chain link fence.They were behind the smaller building, pegging rocks at a Dumpsterbehind which the dog hid. One of the boys laughed as his rockbounced off the side of the building, mere inches from where thedog cowered. Vic brushed over the boys’ minds and found a memory ofanother rock striking the poor animal’s side before it had duckedbehind the Dumpster. It was an older canine with a dirty goldenhide, its fur worn through in spots, one ear ragged with driedblood.
Another rock pinged off the Dumpster—even from wherehe sat, Vic could hear it. The dog barked once, then whimpered asthe boys edged around the trash bin in an attempt to hit it withthe next stone.
Indignation flooded Vic, an anger so righteous, hesurged to his feet. He might not be an animal person but hell,throwing rocks at a defenseless dog? What the fuck did people teach their children thesedays? Leaving his drink on the bench, he clenched his fist andsquelched the last few bites of his sausage in its foil wrapper. Ifhe could, he’d project himself into the mind of that dog and forceit to attack those damn kids. Teach them a lesson…
Or shit, why should the dog have all the fun?
With long strides, Vic strode down the streetalongside the fence, looking for the hole through which the kidshad entered the construction lot. When he found it, he duckedinside. The bikes were piled together on the ground, discarded. Theboys had split up—two stood at one end of the Dumpster, theirfriend at the other end, trapping the dog. They couldn’t have beenmore than sixteen, Vic thought. Why weren’t they in school? Betteryet, chasing after girls? Or hell, after boys, as Vic had beendoing at their age? Playing video games, texting their friends,hanging out at the mall…anything but terrorizing a
