“Hey, boy,” Matt said, getting closer to the dog. Then, looking at the dough lady, he asked, “Can I pet him?”
“If you can make him stand still.”
The dog’s tail was wagging so hard his butt was shaking. Matt reached down to pet him, and his hand got slimed with dog tongue and spit as he licked.
Matt giggled when the dog piddled on the sidewalk.
“He’s just a big puppy,” the lady said. “I’ve got to get back to my shop, and Harley is being uncooperative.”
“His name’s Harley?”
“Actually, I call him the Devil Dog, because he doesn’t mind me.”
“He’s your dog?”
“No, I’m just grooming him.”
“I think it would be fun to wash dogs.”
“Not so much fun as it is wet.” She smiled at him. “What’s your name?”
“Matt Carpenter.”
“Do you live here?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So polite!” Her face lit up as her arm jerked and Harley went to sniff the hydrant. He didn’t lift his leg. He just stood there.
“Would you like to see if you can get him to piddle for me?”
Matt took the leash and talked to Harley.
The lady said, “My name’s Ada. See that building right there?” She pointed a half block away to a shop that had an awning on it with dogs and cats painted on the ruffle.
“Yep.”
“After he goes potty, walk him back to my shop.”
She left, and Matt walked Harley up and down the street. He finally half lifted his leg on the drugstore’s shopping cart return. He also decided to do something else, right on the sidewalk crack, and Matt just stared at it, wondering what he should do about the poop.
He decided to forget about what he saw, and walked fast back to Ada’s dog place. Inside, she smiled at him and took the leash. “Did Harley go?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Such a good boy!”
At first, Matt thought she was talking to him.
“And thank you, Matt, for your help.” Her pudgy index finger pressed a key on the cash register. The drawer shot open and he could see money in there. She gave him a dollar.
“Thank you.” He was really happy about that dollar. He could go buy one of the comics.
“Do you have a summer job?” Ada asked.
“No, ma’am.”
“Would you like to work here and help me if your mother says it’s okay? You do have a mother, don’t you?”
“How do you think I was born?” he responded.
Ada laughed so hard, her big chest was jiggly. “Oh, you are just so precious. I mean, I’d need to check with your mother first to make sure it was all right.” She shoved a business card at him. “Have her call me and we’ll work out the arrangements.”
Dogs were barking in the back, and Ada made a noise with her tongue and teeth, put her hands on her hips and called, “Coco, if you did a doo-doo in your cage…” And then Ada disappeared.
Matt shoved the dollar into his pants pocket.
Jason was inside the comic book store, scowling, when he returned. “Hey, where’ve you been?”
Happy to see his brother, and filled with relief, Matt forgot to be mad at him. “Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere.” Jason was acting strange. He kept trying to stop himself from laughing, but he couldn’t, so he laughed through his closed lips until they opened and spread into a big smile. There was nothing to laugh at. “You better tell Mom we were with each other the whole time. Okay?”
Nodding, Matt swallowed hard.
He didn’t like to lie to Mom, but if she knew what had happened, she’d get real upset.
Matt suggested, “We better walk outside for a while, then go back home.”
“I want to look at comics,” Jason said, snickering.
“No, Jason.” Matt caught the sleeve of his brother’s coat and dragged him away from the rack. “You gotta walk outside for a while so you don’t smell funny no more by the time we get home.”
Six
Drew made eight o’clock dinner reservations at Indigo in the Timberline Lodge for Jacquie’s birthday. After tryouts, he’d have enough time to leave the baseball field, go home, shower and put on a dress shirt and slacks. Given the uneasy state of their relationship lately, he hadn’t been sure what to buy her, so he went with a stock gift that any woman would like—a bottle of expensive perfume he picked up at Christina’s Boutique. It was a brand they sold at high-end department stores. The fragrance smelled good to him and it suited Jacquie. Spicy, not flowery.
The feminine scents of women’s perfume were forgotten as Drew walked across newly mown turf cut on the diagonal. Its freshly shorn blades crushed beneath his tennis shoes, filling his nose with the pungent mustiness of meadow and earth.
He loved the smell of baseball turf, especially when he wore spikes and was suited up. There was nothing better than digging his heels into the soft, red dirt of a field and sliding into home plate.
A new coat of green paint refreshed the Wood Ridge Memorial Clubhouse, its composite roof getting a few replacement shingles this year as well. Chalk lines marked the diamond, and the elevated pitcher’s mound was raked to perfection.
An upcoming season always got under Drew’s skin like a bottle of Tabasco sauce. He was so hot for the game, he felt on fire. He lived for baseball season.
He’d never been into football, not even in high school. He’d gone to the home games, only to see who’d hook up with whom and where the best parties were going to be that night.
Reflecting on his youth, he furrowed his brow, and the thrill of an expanse of turf was momentarily forgotten as memories took him back in time.
His parents had had to get married because his mom was pregnant. Drew wasn’t sure if they were ever in love with each other, even in the beginning. He’d been born in Alhambra, California, in 1960. They’d moved around a lot. His parents never got along, his dad going from one job to the next, always thinking that the new and improved place
