Master Dog - 1. Chapter 1

Master Dog

Day 1

It was stormy but not at all dark yet.

Threatening clouds were moving overhead, and the sun was starting to abandon its post when I noticed the dog. He wasn't what you'd call pretty. One of its erect, triangular ears was mostly missing, and I could see a few scars from where I sat.

Been around the block a time or two, huh, pooch? I rubbed the scar on my arm. It was one of many, but it still bothered me the most. It was thick and ropy; it hadn't healed well. I gazed down at the mutt. Makes two of us.

I was sitting on my backside on the second-floor balcony. I watched the dog as it trotted up the road. It would reach the main street's end in a few more seconds.

What will you do then, doggy? I rolled to my knees and watched through the rails.

It was Labrador sized but was a mess of other breeds. The colouring was German Sheppard with Husky patterns and a relaxed Spitz tail. The coat was short. It was just an odd-looking dog. It sniffed everything and stopped now and again to test the air. Maybe some hound in there too?

I wondered what it could smell. Luckily, I was downwind, so it wasn't me. At least, I hoped not. Dogs look harmless, but they could kill.

The animal moved on out of my sight. I felt a little disappointed. It had been a while since I'd seen anything alive beyond a mouse or two.

My belly growled, and the dimming of the day reminded me to go and collect dinner. I went inside and climbed the ladder to the roof. Up on the roof.

An old song, wasn't it? If this old world starts getting you down … I laughed. A bit too late to worry about that.

Right now, I just wanted something to eat. Up on the roof—no more lyrics, I promise—is where I have my garden. It's a flat-topped building, no snow around here to worry about.

But yeah, something of a feat to build and move I don't know how many yards of soil, but I have nothing but time until I die. And they say eating helps you live longer, right?

I collected a few pea pods, an ear of corn, a few carrots and a potato or two. The lettuces were young and tender, so I grabbed a couple of them. I picked a nice big tomato. I put it all in a small backpack and climbed back into my quarters.

The fire in the old stove was just alive, so I added a bit of wood. It perked up prettily. On the stove, I put a pot of water to boil.

At the counter, I prepped my food. The potato went in first. The carrots next. I shelled the peas and cut the corn from the cob, adding these in a few minutes. The little lettuces I put in a bowl and then added the tomato. On that, I sprinkled the smallest amount of my precious salt.

I took the salad to the table to eat while the other things were cooking.

I hadn't had meat for years. I rarely ate anything but vegetables because they can be grown all the time. There were wild things you could kill if you had a mind to. But killing is hard work, and then, what to do with all that flesh after you've had your fill?

What I could grow was good enough.

I have an excellent little library. One day, I decided to give reading one a try. I was rereading The Lord of the Rings. Funnily, I'd started collecting books because they burn well. I haven't felt alone since.

Now at my table, I opened The Two Towers and stabbed some salad with my fork. Try as I might, I couldn't concentrate on what was happening with Theoden, King of Rohan, and my thoughts kept slipping to the dog. Giving up on the book, I closed it and put it aside.

Why had that dog been here? It was alone, which was very odd for canines. They like company, so they usually travel in packs. Killing was easier in packs too.

I thought while I chewed my greens. They were bitter, but the tomato was a joyful and sweet companion. Delicious.

A scouting mission? Were dogs that organized and intelligent? Could they communicate that well? Things in this world were changing, but was this possible?

No, I don't think so. I got up to check the other vegetables cooking on the little round wood stove. My fork quickly proved the potato was done, as were the carrots. I tossed in the corn and pea pods to give them a minute or two. They didn't need much cooking.

I carried my salt over to the table. There wasn't much left now. I stared into the mostly empty container. Damn.

I'd have to travel down to the sea for water. I use seawater and evaporation to get salt.

I have an old wagon and a large container with a lid to fetch the water. The road is one of the old paved ones, but I still hate doing it. Now, since the dog was around, it felt even more dangerous.

Time to eat the rest of my meal. Then bed, it's nearly dark.

Day 2

I don't have any clocks. There's no electricity or batteries. And windups tick too loud. Why do I need to know the time? I sleep when it's dark and wake when it's light.

The weather is excellent where I live. Pretty temperate, with no snowy, cold weather. We get enough rain, and I collect it in barrels which I use to drink or water the garden if it's not raining enough. Stuff grows all year round.

If I'm honest, what I'm doing is existing. Life, if you can call it that, is pretty good. Life should have more in it, don't you think? Like. I'm laughing when I write this because that was good when my parents and siblings were alive. That was life until they all died, and I was left behind.

They didn't just die, though. Being killed isn't just dying. It's theft. Murderers are thieves. They steal their victim's life, and they steal from those who loved that person like they have no value at all.

Sorry, off on this tangent. It's not a good place to go. But I must explain why I'm just existing. It's because I'm alone. All I loved was stolen from me. Afterward, I left my family home and ran from the killers.

I found this little town. Empty now except for me and maybe a dog.

 

Once I got up and did what you do in the mornings, I poured a mug of water. I went out onto the balcony. I looked down at the wild mess of grass and weeds, which had been a lawn at some point.

Double take! I may have let out a surprise, oh!

I checked out the street and what I could see of it. There it was! Just sitting there on the old sidewalk. It looked up as I stepped out. It was just the puppy and me.

I bowed slightly and greeted it.

"Good morning, dog."

The mess of a creature's tail moved. Just the tip. An acknowledgement that I was there. It didn't rise or growl. It just sat and looked at me.

It didn't feel like watching, you know? It was looking at me. Did it wonder what I was doing? Did it want an invitation to join me?

I don't know. For the moment, this was enough.

But I found I wanted to talk to it more.

"I have to go out today. I need to get some seawater for the evaporator."

The dog just stared up at me. Then it rose and stretched in that bowing position dogs seem to like. After a yawn and a final glance, it wandered away down the street.

"And a fine farewell to you, Master Dog!"

Once I'd drunk my water, I returned inside to put on some clothes and a pair of boots. I ate the leftover vegetables from the previous night for breakfast.

I climbed my roof ladder to fill a canteen with rainwater. Then after climbing down, I pulled the trapdoor closed. I then moved the ladder, folded it, and put it in the other room. If someone breaks in, they don't need to know there's food on the roof.

I live on three levels. The first is my way out to the street, and stuff I need to keep and store is there. I live on the second level. The kitchen and my bed are there and on the roof is the garden. There's the unkempt front lawn and a tidier version in the back.

I found my wagon and the five-gallon bucket with a lid on the first floor. I retrieved my walking stick. I dragged it all out to the sidewalk and closed and locked my doors.

Yes, I have padlocks for the doors of my reclaimed house. You don't need my place, and there's a whole town you can choose from!

My heart was pounding. I was nervous about this trip. But I needed to get on with it, and no one else would do this for me. So, I bent down, picked up the old wagon handle, and took a step. The old wagon squeaked a little but then rolled along in silence.

It's an hour's walk each way. Well, maybe a little longer on the way back because of the added weight. It's rough on the shoulders. When pulling, I often think I should fashion a harness to distribute the weight better. But you know what it's like, putting things off until later.

You should do it. You're just being stupid. If you hurt yourself, no one is around here to help you. When you get back this time, you make a harness.

I laughed. "Talking to yourself. People would think you're crazy."

It was about halfway into the walk down to the water when I felt it. I stopped for a minute and turned around to look. I waited for a bit. There was nothing behind me on the road, and I couldn't see anything moving on the verge or tree line on either side.

"You're hearing things, Adan." Maybe.

Maybe I was, but now I was jumpy. I moved off at a quicker pace.

I didn't hear or see anything for the rest of the trip.

As I approached the shore, I stopped for a minute. Gentle waves rolled in and hurried up the sandy beach. It was beautiful. I sometimes wondered if I should come down here and check out the homes along the shore. It would be nice living down here. There were also likely fish in the sea.

I could try it for a season. I could always return to the first place if it didn't work out.

Before me, the water was pretty calm, making collecting the water easier. Nearly full, the bucket would weigh around thirty-five pounds.

Been there, done that, and had a sore back for a week. I took the little blue wagon as far as an old asphalt path took me. I couldn't take the wagon down to the shoreline because it was too hard to drag it back over the sand. I'd have to manhandle the heavy bucket back.

It wouldn't be the first time.

Finally, I stopped, and I pulled off my boots and pants. Walking back in soaking clothes and boots is not a good idea. I laid them in the wagon. Then once more, I glanced around me.

Still anxious, I took my stick and walked down the shore. The sand felt nice on my bare feet. The sand was cold and squishy as I neared the water's edge. It felt good.

After dropping the bucket, I pulled off the lid. I lay down the stick, picked up the container, and waded out.

I liked to wade out a little to where the water carried less sand. I did the same this time. Once I found a good spot, I lowered the bucket and filled it until it was three-quarters full. Satisfied, I turned around and took a few steps back toward the shore. Then I looked up.

The dog.

He sat there in a sphinx-like pose. Eyes on me. Midway between the water and the wagon.

I stopped.

I can't stay in the water. Not for long, anyway. It holds its own dangers.

Damn. I need to get the bucket to shore and grab my walking stick.

I moved back slowly. The beast is staring at me, and my eyes are glued to his tail. I don't want to make eye contact with him. That's not a good thing to do with strange dogs. I know that much.

I got closer to the shore, and the dog hadn't moved. Just stay still, Master Dog. That's the perfect thing for you to do.

I lowered the bucket to the water's edge and picked up my walking stick. Then bending, I reached for the bucket's lid and put it on, ensuring it was secure. I straightened for a moment, the dog always in my sight. He was unmoving. Then I leaned down and groped for the handle.

I strained to raise it off the sand. It was hard to carry this way, but I'd drop it if the dog started for me. I began the challenging walk back to the wagon through the warming sand.

He rose as I got closer.

I continued my slow walk toward him.

The dog took a step nearer.

I yelled, "Get out of here!"

His deep brown eyes met mine, and then he turned and trotted away.

I nearly dropped the bucket in relief.

Hurrying, I stumbled back to the wagon, lifted the sloshing bucket, and then dressed. Before pulling on my boots, I carefully brushed the sand from my feet. Now ready for the return trip, I unscrewed the top of the canteen and took a drink.

I willed my hands to stop shaking as I recapped my water carrier.

The trip back was uneventful. Master Dog had made himself scarce.

I left the seawater on the back porch on top of a table. It must sit for a few days to allow all the sediment to fall to the bottom. Once that's done, I siphon off the water, except for the last inch, into a large pot. Then I put the pot on a small wood-burning stove used only for this purpose. The water cooks down to a salty slurry.

From there, I pour the slurry into several baking pans on a table on the enclosed back porch. I cover them with a screen and then cheesecloth to allow the rest of the water to evaporate. In several days, I'll have more salt.

After leaving the water to settle, I split some wood for my two wood stoves.

The wood pile is dropping fast. Gotta make a wood run soon.

I could feel it coming today. It's like a freight train. I don't know its name, but I call it Survivor's Slump. I guess a doctor would call it depression.

It comes on when I think about the future. It scares me a little, even though I'm healthy. How will I cope when I'm older?

To try and head off the slump, I leave the axe and go to bed. Sleep helps sometimes.

Day 3, no, 4

Sun on my face wakes me. It was afternoon when I went to bed.

Jesus, how long have I been asleep?

I laugh because it doesn't matter, does it?

Get up, piss, and I need a drink. More laughter because there is no alcohol or coffee. I also have a bit of a headache, probably because I've not eaten or had water for a day.

I roll out of bed and get to my feet. I wander downstairs and go out back to relieve myself.

Returning indoors, the fire's gone out, so I relight it. Then I haul the ladder back into place, climb up to look at the garden, and find something for breakfast. I pull up some potatoes. The pinto beans are nearly ready to be picked and processed, so I grab a few and add a couple of tomatoes.

There's a lot up here ready for processing. It is crop rotation on a small scale. I can grow many things, and it's vital to avoid continually raising the same stuff. It works for me, anyway.

Food is plentiful if you're willing to look for it and grow some. There are places nearby where wild blueberries grow and also various fruit trees. I forage a bit too.

I put my harvest into the backpack and took everything downstairs. I start the beans on the stove to let them cook. I'll add the potatoes soon. These are the times that I miss eggs. I last saw a chicken long ago, but I wish I could find some.

Once the food is cooked, I put it on a plate and add sliced tomato. I sprinkle a tiny bit of salt on it and sit down to eat.

It happened then.

I almost didn't recognize the sound. I put down my fork and listened. It came for a second time when I finally realized what it was.

Something was scratching at my door. Downstairs.

What the hell? I started down the stairs and headed toward the door but stopped. What should I do?

The scratching continued. I paused and then opened it just a crack. I was not expecting the strength of the incoming torpedo that was Master Dog.

He was inside.

Stupidly, I shut the door. I stood there with my back against it. "What do you want?"

Really, Adan? You're asking a dog questions. With an internal shake of the head, I again opened the door. "Out, you damn mutt. Get out!"

Master Dog sat. Eh, out, sit, what's the difference?

His dark brown eyes were watching me. He didn't seem threatening. He opened his mouth to pant. It looked like he was grinning.

His smile, which I didn't allow to affect me, this dog could still be vicious and injure or kill me.

After we had stared at each other for a few minutes, his tail began to wag. Just the tip at first, then the whole thing. Suddenly, he was on his feet. He ran straight for me and right past me.

What had just happened? I sighed and turned around to close the door.

Master Dog was out there … with a man.

I stared open-mouthed for a moment only before coming to my senses. I'm sure my eyes were the size of saucers. I stepped back and made to close the door.

The man held up his hands, palms forward. "Please. I … we mean no harm to you."

He'd been wearing a rifle and a bow. "Look … please." He pulled off the weapons, stepped closer and put them on the top step. "Protection and hunting. I don't want to hurt you."

Still, I said nothing. Thoughts and possibilities ran through my head faster than I could consider or make sense of them.

"What do you want?" Finally, my lips said something.

"A drink of water. If you have some to spare maybe I could fill my canteen." He looked frightened as he shared more. "My name is David. I've been looking for Odie for a few days. I guess he found you and just hung around."

I nodded. "Put your weapons over there on the porch. Then you can come in. Master Dog … um, Odie too. I can spare some water."

"Thank you." David bent to pick up his rifle and bow. He did as I'd asked and put them on the small bench under the living room window. My visitor also reached down and pulled a knife from his boot. He left that on the seat as well.

Turning, he called the dog and entered my house.

David stepped and stopped. He closed the door. "You called Odie, Master Dog?"

I grinned. "Yeah, well. He seemed pretty sure of himself."

"It's cool. I like it."

Odie, who had trotted off, now returned and sat between us.

I waved an arm. "As you can see … I'm not much of a decorator. But come on into the kitchen and I'll get us some water."

"Thanks." My visitors followed me upstairs.

David pulled off his backpack and settled it against the kitchen wall. He chose a seat at the kitchen table and used it.

I stood by the ladder. "Are you hungry?"

"Oh, I … the water is enough."

My guest looked lean, tan and like some food wouldn't go amiss.

"Well, I am. I'm mostly a vegetarian these days. The garden is upstairs." I looked up at the hole in the ceiling. "It's on the roof. I dragged wood and soil up there. Needed to add some of those stabilizing poles, you know, down here to make sure it would stay up okay with the weight."

Why am I telling him this? I don't know this guy from Adam. Shut up, Adan.

My guest was nodding. "Makes sense. And it's smart. Keep it private."

"Come on up." I found myself saying. Shut up, Adan! "You can help me carry some stuff down."

David was on his feet and smiling. "Sure. Happy to. Do you have something to carry things in?"

"Yeah. I just use a backpack and there's a bucket up there on a rope to lower down water."

"Okay."

"You first." I didn't feel completely trustful as of yet. If I went first, he could move the ladder and trap me. Y

Yes, with all the food and water, Adan. Why would he? Right, why would he?

David nodded and started toward the ladder. I put my hand on his forearm as he reached.

"I'm sorry. Paranoid, I guess."

"Hey, I get it." He smiled. "I'd be too. You don't know me."

"You don't know me either."

'Nope." My guest's grin widened. "But my dog does. Always trust your dog."

I turned my gaze to Odie. He sat on the floor, and his tail swept back and forth over the worn tiles. He was smiling as only dogs can.

David had climbed the ladder, and he waited at the top. "You coming?"

"On my way."

I gave David a small tour around the garden.

"You've done great up here. I love the variety. Do you collect the seeds?" David seemed very interested.

"Yeah. I try to pick the best ones for sowing. I've got some good books on gardening and seeds and things."

"It's really wonderful." David smiled. "So, what are we going to pick?"

"I thought maybe I'd make some soup."

"That sounds great to me."

Together we picked out a variety of things to add to our dinner. Returning to the kitchen, we worked to prepare our soup. I added a little of my precious salt.

"You know what? I have some pepper in my pack. I'll dig it out."

I felt a nudge of fondness. "That would be great."

David removed several items from his pack. "Here you are." He held up a small wooden box. "Peppercorns."

I took the finely made container and slid it open. From it, I took four black peppercorns. "Thank you. I'll crush these up."

"Happy I can add something."

I smiled at him and handed the box back.

We cooked, ate and talked well into the evening. We'd moved to the balcony to watch the moon climb, and the stars come out one by one.

David leaned against the house bricks' warmth when he said, "Adan, thank you. I enjoyed all this, but I should get out of your hair."

I'd said I didn't want company, preferring to be alone, so I surprised myself when I said, "If you don't mind a mattress on the floor, you can stay." I smiled and pointed at Odie. "Him too."

Odie's tail betrayed his happiness.

"Are you sure? You've been so generous already." David's concern wrinkled his forehead.

I stared at my new friend. Loneliness was something I'd come to expect. There was no way of knowing if I'd ever see another decent human being I could trust. Even now, I wondered if David was one. I was sure he was. I was pretty sure I didn't want to screw up this chance.

"I'm sure."

"Okay, thanks. We usually sleep rough or bust into a house. It be nice to feel safe."

I pushed myself up to my feet. "Come on, I'll show you your room."

It wasn't much. It was clean and out of the weather. It was safe.

I left David and Odie in their small room and went alone to my room. I stripped off and crawled under the blankets. I pulled them around myself and lay there shivering until I started to warm up. Then I slept.

Day 11

A few days passed. I showed David how to finish the salt, and he'd helped me in the garden, but David and I started to feel a bit on top of each other. Occasionally, I found myself hoping that he and Odie would be leaving. That is until the day when David said as much.

We ate breakfast together. David finished a glass of water and put the empty container down. "I'm grateful for you letting us stay here the last few days, Adan." He smiled at me. "I think maybe it's time Odie and I moved on."

My heart leapt. My brain slammed on the brakes. "Are you sure?"

He gazed down at his fingers for a minute. They were still wrapped around the glass. "I feel like we're in the way."

My brain was now pleading with my tongue to say the right things, but I wasn't sure what those were. "Where will you go?"

"Before Odie ran off, we'd seen a little farm back up the road. You've given me some ideas and maybe I'll go there. See what's what."

Farm? I couldn't recall a farm, but I have yet to scout everywhere.

"Well, that could work. Lots of room for Odie to run around."

David smiled. "Yeah. I could plant a few things."

"I have some seeds I can give you."

"Really? That's very generous of you, and it would be really helpful."

I thought about the packages of seeds I had. "Yeah. I'll put a few together for you. You can probably find somethings still growing wild too."

"I'll be sure to check around."

We spent the day sorting through seeds, walking Odie and having our last supper together.

They left the following day.

After they'd gone, I wandered around the house like loose change in an old clothes dryer. Finally, I boiled some water, added a couple of mint leaves, and then settled down on the balcony to watch the clouds go by.

I hadn't felt that alone since the murderers stole my family. I missed my new friends.

Day 18

Loneliness, my familiar old friend, was back. We were comfortable again. At least, I thought so until this morning.

I stopped because I thought I'd heard something. I'd been out in the backyard splitting some wood. Chopping down trees and stuff was a significant pain, but it was necessary to keep my stoves burning when needed.

"You're hearing things, Adan." I leaned on the axe and listened. There was nothing but the wind tickling the leaves and birds calling.

My work resumed.

The wood protested as I pulled the axe from it. I stopped, sure that I'd heard something.

Seconds ticked by as I listened. "Just get on with this. Jeez, you're wasting time."

I was mid-swing when I heard it—the bark.

Surprise interrupted my momentum, and I had to jump quickly to avoid the axe hitting my leg. For some reason, it wasn't as moved by the sound as I was.

The axe lay forgotten in the grass as I ran into the house.

My careful approach to things, suspicion and self-preservation, hung back with the axe as I flung open the front door.

ODIE!

He torpedoed me, and we fell together, all laughter and tongue. Finally, I was able to sit up.

"Where is David? Huh?" I stroked Odie's odd coat. "Is he with you, Master Dog?"

Odie just sat beside me, smiling.

I thought for a few minutes. If David were hurt, Odie would be anxious and trying to get me to follow. I think anyway.

"What's going on? Did you run away again?"

"No, he didn't, he just ran ahead. He's a terror." David stood panting at the end of the front path.

"Are you okay, David?" I got to my feet. "Come on in. It's about lunchtime."

"Thanks."

Over lunch, we talked more.

"I found the farm. It's in pretty good shape. There's lots of room." David popped a cherry tomato into his mouth. "The house is okay and there's a pump and water. I also found a few chickens who have managed to stay alive."

"Really? Chickens? That's amazing."

"Yeah."

I stared at my friend. "That all sounds good, man. Do you need something?"

"No, I don't need anything, well, except some help. It's big."

I watched David. "What are you saying exactly?"

"I've been thinking. It's going to be a lot of work. Especially on my own." David sucked in a deep breath. He cocked his head. "Do … do you want to come with me, Adan?"

My mouth opened and closed of its own accord. I was going to say no. I mean, I've lived alone for years. But honest answers were sitting there in my mouth. JUST SAY IT. Just say it, man. You know you want to. You know you should. "What … what do you think about that? I mean, putting in together?"

"Well, it makes sense. Life shared is easier than life alone. That's why I was so happy when I found Odie."

I was nodding. "Okay. Maybe we should go up and look at the farm. I was also thinking about moving nearer the sea."

David sat back. "Down by the ocean? That sounds nice. That's something to consider as well. We could check that out too and then decide where we want to live."

We. We had a ring to it. Does wanting to be with David make me gay? If he hugged me, I wouldn't push him away. I've never done anything like that with a man. I decided I was overthinking things. Look, Adan, don't go there right now. Right now, choose the path. Go with him, or send him on his way.

I decided I didn't want to lose my new friend. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea."

David smiled and nodded. "Okay then. So, let's get some water and we'll walk over and we'll have a look at the farm."

We gathered our supplies and headed out together. Odie trotted along beside us; his tail betrayed his joy.

As we walk, the future might be something to look forward to. I couldn't hold back my smile.

David reached over and put his hand on my shoulder. He squeezed a little.
I turned my head to gaze at him.

He didn't drop his hand. "Does this bother you?"

"No, everything feels just about right."

The End