Norman Partridge - The Ten-Ounce Siesta

Tura removed the glasses and tossed them away. “Are you ready to dance. Dr. Gooddoggy?”

Dr. Gooddoggy didn’t say a word.

He sat up and begged.

Tura howled and pulled Dr. Gooddoggy’s head between her breasts.

Then she started to move.

Tura stroked the doctor’s angelic white hair. “You’re a good little doctor, aren’t you?”

“Oh, yes. I’m very good.” Dr. Gooddoggy. . er, Dr. Frank Newman, said.

He straightened his bow tie and cleaned his glasses. Lorelei collected the boom box and the Chihuahua while Tura dressed.

“Well, it’s been fun. Doc,” Tura said. “But that old highway’s a callin’.”

Dr. Newman couldn’t surrender so easily. He had to give it one more try. “I really think I should run those tests, Tura. If you’ll just leave your phone number-”

“No way, Doc. Like I said, we’ll call you if the medicine doesn’t work.”

The doctor trailed Tura and Lorelei through the office door. Black go-go boots beat a hard rhythm on the tiled floor as the Lynch sisters walked down the corridor. In a moment they’d be gone. Dr. Newman couldn’t allow that to happen. He might never see Tura again.

The sisters passed the door to the operating theater. In a few moments they’d be in the lobby. Dr. Newman hurried after them. Once again, Tura was walking out of his life. Maybe forever this time-her lithe leg muscles dancing with every step she took, bone-colored snakebite scars glowing ethereally on her chestnut thighs. .

“Wait a minute, girls.” Dr. Newman opened the operating theater door. “I’ve got a patient in here that you really must see.”

Tura paused. “Sorry, Doc. We don’t have time.”

“I think you’ll have time for this, my dear.” Dr. Newman squinted, staring at the Lynch sisters through lenses as heavy as hockey pucks.

A playful grin crossed the veterinarian’s lips. “I know you girls like snakes. . but have you ever seen a dragon?”

Jack said, “Angel, how about you just leave the tape deck alone?”

“Jesus,” she said. “I can’t believe the stuff you listen to. Dean Martin, Louis Prima, Frankie Laine. Anybody ever tell you that the twenty-first century is right around the corner, Jack?”

“C’mon. . we’re almost there-”

“Yeah? Let me see that address. . This doesn’t look like the right neighborhood.”

“It is. Newman’s office is around here somewhere. It has to be.”

Angel laughed. “Don’t tell me. You’re lost, aren’t you?”

“No,” Jack said. “I’m not lost. It’s around here somewhere. If you just give me a couple minutes-”

“You’re fuckin’ lost. I can’t believe it.”

“I am not lost.”

“There’s a gas station. Why don’t you pull over and ask.”

“Angel-”

“Jesus, Jack. I can’t fuckin’ believe you. You’re such a fuckin’ guy. Just pull over and fuckin’ ask.”

“Wait a minute. There it is. That office building over there.”

Angel thumbed the safety on her.45. “I hope you shoot better than you drive, Jack.”

“Don’t you worry about it.”

“No-you worry about it. Because if you shoot my dog by accident, I’ll forget all about what a good listener and all-around nice guy you are.”

“You’d shoot me.” Jack was incredulous. “After all I’ve done, you’d blow me away.”

“Yeah. Especially after all you’ve done.”

Jack parked the Celica. “You ready?”

Angel looked at him. Really looked at him. Dead in the eye. “This might be a trap, you know.”

“I know.” Jack stepped out of the car. “That’s why I’ll go through the door first.”

Dr. Gooddoggy was pleased; Tura was excited.

“What is it?” she asked.

“A Komodo dragon,” Dr. Newman explained, “the world’s largest lizard.”

“What’s its name?”

Dr. Newman chuckled. “Bruce.”

Tura stared into the steel cage. Dr. Newman placed a hand on her shoulder, rather instructively, and was delighted to discover that she was trembling with excitement.

The reason was obvious. Bruce was an amazing specimen-two hundred and twenty pounds of carnivorous reptile. With thick skin the color of bloodstained concrete and hard black eyes that gleamed with cold reptilian intelligence, the huge monitor lizard would send a shiver up anyone’s spine.

Bruce turned in the cage, razor-sharp claws clicking against the metal floor. The lizard looked at Tura for a long moment, pale yellow tongue flicking in and out of its mouth.

“Is he dangerous?” Tura asked.

“Very,” Dr. Newman said. “Just look at those claws. And his teeth are razor-sharp.”

“What does he eat?”

“Komodo dragons eat meat, alive or dead. I once saw Bruce devour three suckling pigs in the space of twenty minutes. He ate so much that he literally couldn’t move for several hours.”

“Where’d you get him?” Lorelei asked.

“Bruce belongs to a couple of magicians who have quite a menagerie.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Bruce is getting a little old. Last year he started to develop cataracts. I’ve been monitoring his eyesight since then, and we’ve decided that it’s time to operate and correct the problem. Later today I’m bringing in a veterinary ophthalmologist from Virginia to perform the surgery. She’s the best in the country.” Newman laughed, pushing his Coke-bottle specs high on his nose. “In fact, if my eyes get much worse I might have her take a crack at me.”

Dr. Newman glanced at Tura and Lorelei. He thought his joke was uproariously funny, but the Lynch sisters weren’t laughing at all. Obviously, they weren’t listening to a word he said.

Tura knelt and peered into the cage. “Daddy would just love him.”

Lorelei nodded. “And he’s got a birthday comin’ up at the end of the month.”

“You get him anything yet?”

“Nope. How about you?”

“Nope.”

Lorelei chuckled. “Could you imagine the look on his face if we brought him one of these?”

“We’d have to change his name, though. Daddy wouldn’t want a dragon named Bruce.”

“Yeah. Maybe we could call him Yog Soggoth.”

“Works for me,” Tura said. “How about it, Doc?”

Dr. Newman didn’t know what to say.

But there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that he had to say something.

“Tura,” he began, “you have to understand-”

The world’s greatest lap dancer leaned forward and removed Dr. Newman’s Coke-bottle glasses, placing them atop Bruce’s cage.

Suddenly, Dr. Newman’s throat was uncomfortably dry. “No, darling, you really must listen. I just can’t let you do this-”

“Sure you can,” Tura said. “You want my phone number, don’t you?”

Dr. Newman couldn’t see a thing without his glasses, so he didn’t see Tura’s hand moving toward him. But as soon as he felt it, he made his decision.

He would tell the magicians that the dragon had been stolen. Or kidnapped. Yes, kidnapped. That would be better. He’d send the magicians a ransom note-

“The dragon is yours,” he said, and suddenly his bow tie seemed very tight indeed.

Tura kissed the vet. He had just consigned himself to hell. He was sure of it. But at the moment he didn’t care-

Until the door to the operating theater burst open.

Until someone yelled, “Get your hands in the air. . and give me that Chihuahua.”

Tura couldn’t believe her eyes. The asshole was dead. Dead. And dead didn’t come back with a Colt Python in its hand and a blond bimbo sidekick armed with a.45.

“C’mon,” Jack Baddalach said. “Just give us the dog and no one gets hurt.”

“Yeah.” The bimbo aimed her.45 at Tura. “Like he said.”