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- 11/24/2016
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Only Prompts - 10. Dogman - O.Henry Prompt 3
O. Henry Short Story Prompt 3 – Hour of the Dogman
Being polite did not help, so Sam pushed his way through the elbow-to-elbow crush of his fellow travelers to disembark the subway car, giving his backpack a good tug to free it too. Finally able to breathe, he drew in a lungful of air that was not populated by the fumes of a hundred types of perfume and cologne.
“Thank god that’s over for two whole days!” Sam muttered, mainly to himself. He walked briskly down the platform looking for the Main Street exit. His thoughts of freedom were brief, as visions of his first chore once he walked through the apartment door entered his head.
Akasha.
That was the name of his partner’s fat, spoiled, mincing apricot teacup poodle. Akasha, by order of his partner Randolf, had to be walked as soon as Sam got in.
‘Because she’s been alone since we left in the morning, Sam.’ Randy would say—that made sense, but it was odd Randy was never home in time to walk his dog.
Sam stopped and looked up at the apartment building where he and Randy lived. Then with a sigh, he pulled his keys from his pocket, opened the door and entered the building. He took the small, slow elevator up to the sixth floor.
Loath to find what mess the spoiled dog may have made, Sam didn’t rush down the hall to open his door. The little shit always knew he was home though and started barking—more like squeaking—as soon as he got off the elevator. Today was no different and he unlocked the door, stepped in and closed it behind him. And like always, Akasha was there to greet him. She bounced, barked, growled, and bared her tiny teeth just before she latched onto the cuff of Sam’s trousers.
He shook his leg. “Get off, you little … horror!”
The tenacious creature slid across the dining room floor and scrabbled her little legs to regain traction. Sam ignored her and reached for her pink leash which hung on the rear of the door, and shoved a few poop bags into his pocket. Once the dog returned, Sam bent down to clip the leash on. He’d nearly attached it when Akasha bit Sam’s thumb.
“Ouch! You little piece of shit!” He dropped the leash and stalked into the washroom. He washed his bleeding thumb and dried it. He put on a bandage and leaned on the sink, his head hanging, and he sighed. Looking down he noticed Akasha beside him. She stared at him with big brown eyes, making Sam feel like a giant monster. He bent and quickly picked up the pooch. He held her at eye-level.
“I’m sorry, dog. This isn’t your fault; you were badly raised. Come on, let’s get your leash and go for your walk.”
Sam returned to the foyer and picked-up the leash, still holding the dog. The leash clipped on, he held her in front of him and looked into her eyes—he’d just smiled at her when she bit his nose. His howl of pain frightened the little dog into letting go.
After round two in the washroom and a dab of antiseptic, Sam and Akasha walked down the street together to the local park. The last of the warmth dribbled from the sun as the pair walked the asphalt path through the green-space. The tiny terror tied to him growled and snapped at every dog she met, while owners smiled and pulled their charges from each other. They apologized and chastised their dogs as if they were children: “Oh, I’m sorry, he’s just so naughty. Come on Bradley!”
Sam noticed with growing horror that these other men … they were all men, looked as miserable as he felt. They all walked things that were no longer dogs, but were precious, pampered, and pretentious. Sam pulled Akasha to a halt and looked down at her saying, “You’re a dog. Not a jewel, not a baby, and not a precious angel. You are a dog. And guess what else. I don’t need you, or your owner if I’m honest. I have a degree in agriculture. I left behind a career, a life and love for … for this!”
He pulled the leash and sat down on a nearby bench. Ignoring Akasha’s whining, Sam thought, ‘I’d been ready to start my own business. Jim and I were going to run it, once Jim got out of the Air Force. But Randolf Masterson came along and I let him turn my head. Let him tell me life in the city would be everything we could want and more. He’d run his restaurant, while I … what am I? I’m a glorified fruit buyer for Best Fruit and Veg—not what I went to school for. I was impatient, greedy and a fool. So now look at me! I’m a Dog-man! What would have happened if I’d just waited another year for Jim?’
The incessant whining forced Sam to his feet. “Come on. I better get you home and feed you.”
Sam walked briskly out of the park and was nearly home when he heard his name: Sam!
That voice, it was familiar and he stopped and turned. He couldn’t believe his eyes.
Jim!
“Jim? Oh, my God! Why are you here? It’s so wonderful to see you!” Sam sputtered and pulled his old lover into an awkward embrace.
Jim hugged his old friend and gently untangled himself. “It’s good to see you! I’m in town on a conference and I thought I’d look you up.”
“Wow, I’m glad you did.”
“So, can we go to your place and chat for a bit?”
“Um, better if we …. I know a great bar with a nice patio where I can bring the ball and chain.”
“Oh, you got married! Congrat—”
“No, Randy and I aren’t married. I mean this thing ….” Sam pointed to the powder-puff pooch beside him.
Jim looked disappointed. “Oh, I see. Is it yours?”
“No. She’s Randy’s, but I usually get stuck looking after her.” Sam wanted to punt the pup down the street. “Come on, let’s go.”
The friends walked along chatting about the weather and inner-city travel until they were seated on the patio at the Bird’s Eye Pub.
Their pints of bitter in front of them, bowl of water for Akasha, and a large plate of deluxe-nachos ordered, the two men talked.
Sam sipped his drink. “Tell me Jim, what are you doing now?”
“Well, I went ahead and started the cheese factory and dairy that we’d always talked about, Sam.”
“Really? That’s wonderful. How are you doing?” Sam felt the first stabs of regret and envy.
The waiter brought the cheesy plate of nachos and the two dug in.
Jim swallowed, wiped his fingers on a napkin, and replied, “It’s better than we’d ever hoped, Sam. People come from all over. I started with just me and thirty Nubian goats. I’ve just ordered twenty La Mancha’s. Both are great dairy goats; lots of butterfat. And I’ve added staff too: another stockman, a second cheese maker, and I’ll need someone else in the shop!”
Sam pushed down his jealousy, knowing it was due to his own choices, not Jim’s. “Oh, that’s wonderful, man. I’m happy for you.”
Jim smiled happily. “Just think how great it would have been if you’d stayed and we’d started that organic salad and veg part of the business! I guess we’d branch out into our own salad dressings and stuff too!”
This was getting harder; Sam felt anger and much regret. “Yeah, just think. Instead here I am, buying crates of oranges for Best Fruit and Veg.”
Jim watched the feelings pass over his old friend’s face. “Oh, Sam. Look maybe this was a bad idea. I’m sorry if I ….”
“No. This isn’t your fault and I am very happy for you, Jimmy.”
Jim reached over the table and placed his hand over Sam’s. He spoke quietly. “You know, if you’re unhappy … well, it’s not too late.”
Akasha began barking and whining, breaking the intimacy—Sam pulled his hand away. “Look, it’s been great to see you.”
Jim sighed. “Yeah, for me too, Sam.” He glanced at his watch. “Look I should … I have a train to catch.” He stood up and shook Sam’s hand. “Come and visit. You’re always welcome, Sam.”
Jim put money on the table, patted Sam on the back and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Take care.” With that he walked away.
Sam paid his share of the tab and pulled Akasha home, every once in a while he shook her off his pant leg.
That night, when Randy wanted his needs fulfilled Sam said no and turned over. This went on for several days until Randy got angry.
“What is your problem, Sam?”
Sam lay on his side of the bed, as far from Randy as he could. “I’m tired.”
“You’re always fucking tired!” Randy sat up, leaning back against the headboard. “Look babe, come on. You know you like it after we do it.”
“I don’t want sex.”
“Huh, no kidding. What the fuck do you want?”
“I want a life.”
“You have one, with me here.”
Sam laughed but there was no happiness in the sound. “No! You have a life. You are a celebrity chef, you go out, and you go to parties. No one fucking knows I am your partner. Fuck I hate that term.”
Randy felt the anger from Sam and it surprised him. “You do? You hate it? Sam, I ….”
Sam was fuming now and determined that Randy should understand. “Yes, I hate it. It sounds like we’re in business together, not that we’re a family. And I hate your fucking dog! I hate walking it, feeding it and being anywhere near it. You never fucking ask me to help you, you order me. I’m sick of it, sick of us and I’m sick of you.” Sam threw off the covers and stood up, arms crossed, leaning against the wall to look out the window.
Shock filled Randy’s face and Sam’s anger was like a sledgehammer. “Babe, I ….”
Sam spun around, ready to attack. “I have a fucking degree in Agriculture. I was set to start a business with a wonderful man. Organic and speciality vegetables and a small cheese factory. Then I listened to you and look at me. I’m one of the fucking Dogmen! Pathetic fools who walk alien creatures we once knew as dogs! Because that creature is more important to you than I am.” Sam wiped away hot tears. “I gave up everything for you and now I cannot stand myself.”
Randy got up, walked to his partner and pulled him close. Sam fought him, but Randy took the blows and just held on. Finally Sam tired and just stood still, arms limp at his sides.
“I’m sorry,” Randy whispered. “I am. I am sorry. I didn’t know. I love you, Sammy. I never … never wanted to hurt you. I thought the city would be the best place ….”
Sam slipped his arms around Randy and leaned against him.
“I’m not that happy either, Sammy. I’ve been pretending a long time.”
“What?” Sam pushed away and looked into Randy’s green eyes.
“This wasn’t … isn’t my dream. The restaurant isn’t really either, well it was, but not anymore.”
“What is?”
They pair sat on the edge of the bed and pulled a blanket over their shoulders. Randy took Sam’s hands in his own. “You really want to know?”
“Yes, yes, of course I want to know!”
Randy nodded. “Well, okay. The honest truth is I’d love a small country inn or pub. Somewhere quiet, where locals come to have a drink and lunch, maybe dinner. We’d have our own chickens and well, you can grow all our produce—you’re good with your hands.”
Sam was frustrated. “Then why are we here, if that’s what you wanted. You knew my dreams too.”
“I thought starting here … then it all just became a habit.” Randy gazed at Sam. “Do you really hate Akasha?”
“Yes. No! I don’t know. I guess I hate what she represents. And all this shit you do for her, feed her, and carry her around. She’s a dog, Randy. She deserves to have the life of one.”
“What about us, Sammy?”
“I don’t know, is there any hope?”
“You said you hate being my partner.”
“That’s because I’d rather be your husband.” Sam smiled and kissed Randy softly.
Randy pulled Sam down onto the bed next him and then rolled on top. “Start again?”
“Mmm. You’re serious, right?”
“Yes. Yes I am very serious. Let’s go and get the life we want.” Randy kissed Sam with passion and they clung together. “I love you, Sam.”
“I love you too. Can we really do this?”
Randy grinned. “Yes, we can.”
“Akasha is getting a new collar and leash, in camouflage!”
“Pink, right?”
Sam smiled broadly and ran his hands down his lover’s back. “Okay, fine. Pink camo it is!”
Randy grinned. “So, you taking my last name when we get married?”
C’est Fini.
Thanks to you all for reading!!
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