Jeff Jacobson - Foodchain

Throughout it all, Sturm wouldn’t let go of the Iron Mistress. He watched Frank with twitching, shivering eyes, but never said a word. Frank tried to move slowly, calmly; he was afraid that if he caused too much pain, moved too quickly and sharply, Sturm might bring that blade up and sink it in Frank’s neck.

But in the end, Frank stopped the bleeding.

DAY NINETEEN

Chuck dropped Frank off at the vet hospital around four in the morning. Chuck waved and tore off, wanting nothing more than to fall into his own bed in the trailer out behind the auction yard. Frank knew there was nothing left in his flask, but he upended it anyway, swallowed spit, then tucked it away in his jeans. His body felt stiff and aching from sitting in a kitchen chair for most of the night, watching over Sturm. His eyes felt like they’d been sandblasted open. He ran his tongue over his teeth, wondered if he would have enough energy to scrape away the slick coat of filth before falling onto the couch.

As he lurched across the lawn, a lilting, mischievous voice from above said, “You boys never just have a few beers and call it a night, do you?” Frank looked up and saw Annie’s strong brown legs swinging slightly from a thick branch about ten feet up. One flip-flop dangled from her big toe. The other was upside down on the grass. Frank winced when he thought of the possible needles in the lawn.

Frank was glad Chuck hadn’t seen her. Annie popped a gigantic bubble of flesh-colored gum, peeled it off her nose, and threw it into the planter filled with the dried husks of dead bushes. “Been waiting for you. Busy night?”

Frank nodded. “Waiting to see your dog?”

“That too,” she said, but didn’t elaborate as she nimbly rolled off the branch and hung there for a moment, arm muscles taut, breasts full, baring her belly. She let Frank take her in for a moment, then dropped to the ground.

“Careful,” he mumbled. “Needles.” His brain, fogged from the Jack Daniels, the heat, and full of visions of Sturm baring his teeth and slashing at the lioness with the Iron Mistress, wasn’t working right. The gears were trapped in tar. “Watch your feet. Needles.”

Annie crinkled her forehead and looked at him with bemusement. She was used to dealing with drunks.

This wasn’t going the way he had been hoping the last two weeks. Finally, he just said, “Let’s go on in and see her.” He fumbled for the keys while she worked her toes into the other flip-flop.

He got the front door open, and Petunia came barreling down the hallway, claws scrabbling on the linoleum. She stopped short when she saw Annie, hesitating only a half second before launching herself at the girl. Petunia hit Annie so hard she knocked the girl on her ass. The impact made Frank wince, but Annie just squealed in delight, closing her eyes and letting Petunia attack her face with her fat, wide tongue.

After a moment, Petunia backed off just enough to ram Frank’s knees with her broad head, her other way of showing affection. Frank wanted to offer Annie his hand, to help her up, but it felt weird, like it was too intimate, too fast. Christ, he thought. He felt like some sixth grader wondering how he should hold a girl for a slow dance.

If Annie felt uncomfortable, she didn’t act like it. She simply reached out and grabbed hold of the front of his belt and hauled herself up. Petunia bounced around like a happy rubber ball, pleased as punch with her two humans.

“She sure seems better. Can I take her home?” Annie asked, scratching wildly behind Petunia’s ears.

“I think so, yeah. No infection. She’s getting around fine. Just—be careful. Hate to think of her getting hurt again.”

“Don’t worry. My brothers and I have come to an understanding. I don’t want my dog to get hurt and they don’t want to be wearing their balls for earrings, so everybody’s happy.”

Frank didn’t know what to say; he didn’t want to end it, didn’t want to let her go. “Do you need a leash or anything?”

She laughed.

“Any dog food?”

“Nope.”

“Okay. Well. She likes it when you scratch real hard at the base of her tail—right on top of the hips here.”

“I know.”

“I’ve been reading to her. I think she likes that. Mostly medical, vet stuff, but I suppose it doesn’t matter.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Frank squatted, pulled Petunia’s head in close, rubbing the top of her nose and stroking the loose folds at her throat. “Okay then little girl. You be good.” He kissed the top of Petunia’s flat, broad skull and stood up. “Take good care of her.”

Annie nodded, but her eyes were on the floor. She shifted back and forth, stuck her hands in her pockets, then pulled them out again just as quickly. Finally, chewing on her bottom lip, she met his eyes. “Hey. Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow, I mean, tonight?”

“Yes. Yes I would.”

She smiled, that round face beaming, damn near glowing. Frank almost squinted from the dazzling brightness and he couldn’t help but grin back.

“Good.” She tried to tame her smile, pressing her lips together, but the dimples in her cheeks gave it away. “Tonight. At six. Okay?”

“I’ll be there.”

“I’ll be waiting.” And with that, Annie and Petunia left. Frank watched Annie’s rolling ass, barely contained in her cutoff jean shorts, as she headed across the lawn. Petunia padded happily alongside the strong brown legs. They walked down the middle of the empty street, silhouetted from streetlight to streetlight, until finally slipping into the darkness.

* * * * *

The hospital was empty and hollow without Petunia following him around. Frank went in and talked to the pound dogs for a while, but it wasn’t the same. The immediate, insane barking kickstarted his hangover, hammering a throbbing headache to his skull with blunt nails. The big cats just stared him down with careful, precise eyes. They didn’t hiss or snarl anymore. How was it, he wondered, he could understand exactly what the cats were thinking as they watched him, but he had absolutely no idea what the hell was going through Annie’s mind when she invited him to dinner.

Frank took a hot shower and scrubbed himself raw. He fell onto his cot, but couldn’t sleep. As the storeroom’s walls and pallets took shape in the gray morning light, he thought of her dimples as she tried not to let the smile get away from her. Her belly. Those brown legs. That ass.

* * * * *

He stopped pretending to sleep when the phone rang at noon. It was Sturm. “We’re having a meeting at my place. Appreciate it if you were there.”

“Yeah, sure, of course.” Frank panicked, thinking of his date with Annie at six. “When?”

“Be here in an hour. I can have one of the boys pick you up, if you’d rather not have that car out and about.” Frank had hidden the long black car in the barn, in a large empty space next to the rhino.

“No, that’ll be okay. Better for it, turn the engine over once in a while. How you feelin’?”

“Never felt better in my life. See you in an hour.” Sturm hung up.

* * * * *

Frank fed the animals and himself. He took another shower in case he didn’t have a chance before six, then drove out to Sturm’s ranch. Jack, Pine, and Chuck were already there, sitting on the front steps, yanking off their cowboy boots. Inside, Sturm had the air conditioning going full blast. Frank’s sweat instantly froze to his skin and everyone left damp footprints on the smooth wood as they walked through the house in their socks.

Sturm sat in one of the kitchen chairs while Theo carried the rest into the office. Frank peeled the medical tape off Sturm’s chest and started to say, “Good thing you don’t have much hair,” but caught himself just in time. The wounds were clean and showed no sign of infection. Frank applied fresh bandages and everyone moved into the office.