Javelina - 1. Chapter 1

Javelina

“Over there, over there, send the word, send the word, over there….” It was his phone ringer.

Al quickly answered his cell and said quickly, “Hey Frank. What’s up?”

His brother was silent for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “Just checking in,” he replied, the older man’s voice a bit raspy.

Al looked down at his feet, enduring the uncomfortable conversation as well as he could. Tecumseh, his little terrier mutt, blinked up at him, concerned. The dog had witnessed these awkward conversations many times, every week in fact.

“I’m fine,” Al finally said into the receiver. “Work is going well. Took the dog in for his shots this week. You?”

His brother didn’t say anything at first. This was normal, and Al had always figured his brother endured these painful exchanges as a chore, an obligation. The two brothers repeated their usual perfunctory responses. Nothing of real importance was shared.

Frank finally answered, “We’re doing well. Penny is at church helping with a funeral this afternoon. I’m cleaning out the garage.”

Al looked up from the dog, unable to tolerate any more of the canine’s concern. The dog was moving closer, more protectively to his side. His head nudged and butted Al’s hand, reassuring him.

He stared at his computer monitor, blank and lined up against the naked, off-white far wall of his living room/bedroom/office. Next to it was a bookcase lined with his treasures. Seeing them helped him calm a bit. His treasures were such a comfort to him, all carefully arranged and placed most pleasingly. Each was showcased, without being obvious to anyone, but himself.

Al cleared his throat. “Are you watching the game tomorrow?”

Forced cheer lifted his brother’s voice half an octave. “Of course. Danny and his girlfriend, little Davis, Trudy and her wife are all coming over for some of my award-winning chili and a few brewskis.”

“Sounds good,” Al said. He looked down at his feet again and said, “Sorry to cut this short, but my gaming group is getting together in just a half an hour, and I have to get ready.”

“That’s still going on?” Frank asked, sounding delighted. “That’s great.”

“Yeah, it’s my turn to host next Saturday afternoon so….”

The air was still with the implications. Their weekly calls would be interrupted. Neither of the men would need to pretend interest in the other.

“I better let you go then,” Frank said. “Have a great afternoon.”

“You too,” Al said, about to hang up.

“You wanna come over tomorrow afternoon? I mean for the game?” Frank asked abruptly, almost shouting the invitation.

Al paused, thinking of an excuse. None was forthcoming so he shrugged and said, “Naw. Tonight might be pretty late, and I have to work early on Monday.”

The other side of the conversation was stone silent, for a beat. “You’re always welcome,” he finally said. “We always have enough food and stuff and plenty of room.”

“Thanks,” Al interjected. “I know.” He shuffled over the chocolate brown carpet towards his front door. “Maybe next week,” he said.

“I thought you were having company next weekend?” Frank asked.

“I meant the week after,” he said. “I get my days mixed up sometimes.”

He’d reached his front door, and pulled it open a crack, reaching around the opening to the outside. He pressed the button, and a chime rang overhead.

“Someone’s at the door,” Al said, as brightly as he could muster. “I better get that.”

Frank’s sigh was loud and long and echoed in his brother’s ear. “Okay. Next time, then.”

“Next time,” Al said, and hit end on his phone. His heart was racing. The door, even open a crack was a sign of his duplicity, and as he closed it, the dog barked sharply. He felt a pang of guilt, and his mother’s disappointed face flashed in his mind’s eye. He shook that out of his head and saw the dog was whining now.

“Tecumseh, be quiet,” Al said.

The dog tilted his head, looking forlornly at the man.

“Don’t stare at me like that,” Al said, closing the door, locking it and putting on the chain. That weekly event was over. Closing the door had put a period at the end of that annoying routine. Al sighed and looked down at the dog, “Do you need to go for a walk?”

Tecumseh, never shy, expressed his need quite energetically.

Al grabbed the leash and squatting down, gestured to the little dog with disheveled fur. “Come on, let’s go.”

Tecumseh scurried over, his tail wagging so excitedly his little rear was twisting back and forth.

“Should we go for a nice long walk today?” Al asked, attaching the clasp of the lead to the loop on the dog’s bright blue collar. “It’s cooler this morning, and we should take advantage of that.”

Tecumseh obviously agreed with a happy, grinning, snort.

Al grabbed the poop bags, his water bottle, the fanny pack, and a baseball cap with “RenFest 2007” emblazoned on the front. It was ratty and stained, but it would keep the sun out of his eyes.

Tecumseh was eager to get out the door and into the world.

Al, not as much.

Stepping out of his apartment door, he followed as the dog led him down the concrete steps with rusty iron edges. The air was already quite toasty, with the morning sun scalding away any moisture in the air. It wasn’t too hot though. September was a better time for their walks; certainly better than July when it never cooled off, even at night.

Tecumseh was happily pulling the leash forward, and Al had to skip down the steps as fast as he could, just to keep up. The dog knew the way. He turned and followed the sidewalk down past the row of parking spaces. Up ahead was a park, well a greenspace mostly, that meandered in between the apartment buildings.

Running down the center of the turf was a dry gulch, with smooth river rock lining the twisting naked waterway. Along the sides, tufts of hearty grass, dry and brown, bursts of bushes, replete with bright orange and red blooms, and straggly wooden oleanders clung desperately to bunches of white flowers. It was a sad display, partly because it was so familiar. Partly because it was the limit of his world.

Al followed Tecumseh to the park, and they walked through the area. The dog would stop and excitedly sniff at a tuft of spurge or an errant empty soda bottle. Al would watch him and keep an eye out for other people. This stretch of the greenway was usually not very busy, but occasionally there were people walking their dogs, sitting on benches and peering at their phones, or even jogging by, oblivious to others.

Regardless, he tried to stay clear. Not because of any fear or reticence. More of a general sense of disrupting his routines or engaging in mindless, and pointless, chitchat. Too many people scowled if you didn’t respond to their idiotic greetings. Al despised idle pleasantries. Therefore, he always responded as appropriate, even though it set his teeth on edge.

Like fingernails screeching on a chalkboard.

That’s what his mother always called it. Anything and everything that bothered her, ‘set her teeth on edge,’ which nobody understood anymore, so he tried to stop thinking of his annoyance using that phrase.

Once he’d made that comment out loud during a work review about a particularly noisome coworker, and the inhumane resource facilitator asked him what it meant. Rather than explain the adage, he demurred. The guy refused to let it go, and after Al tried to explain the meaning of the phrase, ‘set your teeth on edge’ he felt embarrassed. The explanation had been deficient. The inhumane resources person had been confused, but tried to hide it.

Al thought it probably lurked somewhere in his permanent file, the comment and the bad review it had elicited. He was self-conscious enough as it was, without the judgments of a company rep.

Since then, he’d been more careful. When it came time for his review, he talked about himself only. He never complained about his coworkers. When they asked about his lazy, spiteful, inane, and incredibly stupid colleagues, he would skirt the issue.

Tecumseh was tugging at him, pulling the leash, and so Al resumed walking. It was a pleasant day, and so he almost began to whistle. He stopped himself though when they turned a bend. A man in elastic yoga pants and absurdly large headphones was bending over a bench, stretching. He was soundlessly mouthing some words, and looked like a complete moron. Though, to be completely honest, the guy filled out the jogging outfit quite nicely. A full, firm ass was hugged by the taut fabric. His shirt had ridden up, exposing a deliciously hairless expanse of skin. He was lovely.

Tecumseh, being an annoyingly friendly dog, tried to tug Al closer to him.

Al clucked his tongue, and the dog drooped. He stopped pulling and resumed his trot down the cement path away from the attractive man.

He sometimes felt tempted to watch men like that, healthy, robust, full of life, and with bulging muscles and wholesome, earnest expressions on their faces. Al didn’t entertain such foolishness for long. Such men never gave him a second look. Such men were inevitably off-limits to him.

Then he shook his head and focused. He had a perfectly lovely weekend ahead of him. No work. No family. No people bugging him or expecting things from him. He would take Tecumseh on a long walk, grab some DoorDash from Mickey D’s, and play some online games under one of his code names. Whether it was World of Warcraft or Call of Duty, he felt most comfortable with the classics, games he knew like the back of his hand.

In spite of the story he told his brother, he was free as a bird this weekend and next. And the next. And so on.

It was a life that suited him perfectly. No interactions. No bothersome social entanglements.

Tecumseh pulled on the leash again, and led Al up a path and toward a copse of jacarandas. He hated those trees. So spectral and so creepy with their tall, long limbs that reached for the sky in supplication.

***

“Your client satisfaction numbers are below where we’d like them to be,” the inhumane resources director said. His name was Todd and he was an officious little prick. “We have some support services available that can help you improve your interpersonal skills.”

Al wanted to reach through the phone-set and strangle the little dweeb. His puckering, pinched face on the Teams app was peering judgmentally at him; his square, impossibly nerdy spectacles were poised in the middle of his nose, having slid down the greasy ski slope of his face. Al felt his throat tighten and his fingers clench.

Something hung around the neck of the man on the screen. It was small and glittered in the light. Al fixated on that sparkling choker, with the small, silver cross, and licked his lips. That’s when the man spoke again.

“There are videos and practice exercises for you. I can pencil in a couple of hours at the end of today’s shift if you’d like?” Todd offered, his voice setting Al’s teeth on edge. The edge was only tempered by the glint of the pendant. It was small and perfect.

“If you think this would help, I’d be happy to work through them after my lunch break,” Al responded in a measured tone. He looked over at his bookcase, admiring his treasures. There was a nice gap on the second row.

He said quickly, “Any improvement in my numbers would look great, right?”

Perhaps Todd, or as his coworker Janet referred to him, Toad, thought he was being enthusiastic. Appreciative even. He was always secretly thrilled at how gullible and naïve people were.

“Yes, it would really improve your scores. That would be fantastic,” Toad said, sounding, well, thrilled.

Al was about to respond with another pithy corporate-speak banality, when the other man sighed. It caused Al to frown slightly.

“I know this is a pain,” Toad said. “I really do. But we have numbers to hit and rubrics to fill, and I must do my job. Okay?”

Al was flustered. This kind of candor was new and shocking. “Um, I get it,” he responded, kind of shocked.

“Thanks,” Todd said. “I’ll give you practice time from 1:00 to 3:00 pm. And since you’re being such a good sport, I’ll even give you a couple of hours of personal time. Gratis.”

“What?” Al barked. “What do you mean?”

“I’ll give you a couple of extra hours of personal time,” the man said, his face now softening. The hyper-corporate mask had slipped. Now he seemed like just another ordinary guy. He continued, “you get a couple of hours after the practice sessions as paid time off. Just have some fun and blow off some steam as a reward.”

Al thanked him, and they ended the Team session.

And with that his day and his world shifted on its axis. Everything would change.

Everything.

***

Tecumseh was especially whiny that afternoon, no doubt feeling Al’s anxiety. Following the Teams meeting with Toad, Al had finished out his morning, had a quick lunch of double noodle chicken soup and two packages of Ho-Ho’s, and then sat down for his ‘practice sessions’ which was really corporate propaganda carefully crafted with mumbo-jumbo and nonsense.

The videos explained how to turn negative questions into positive requests. There were practice sessions for taking rude comments and making them helpful, useful suggestions for improvement. It was an exercise in absurdity and a torturous excursion into hell.

By the end of the two-hour ordeal, Al was ready to scream, or worse.

Instead, he took the extra time to walk Tecumseh. The extra time that Todd gave him, surprisingly. He was going to enjoy it.

It was a rare overcast day, and the September heat was tempered by gray clouds and a gentle breeze. The weather forecast had predicted there was a storm heading in his direction. Al decided to take advantage of it, since he could.

Tecumseh’s whininess soon dissipated. His nervous energy was funneled into an especially brisk walk. Al couldn’t keep up with the little dog as he bounded down the sidewalk to the park.

Thankfully, there was no one else around. The park was abandoned, and the gloomy weather only made it seem like he was the only person in the complex. That should have made Al happy, but it didn’t. The videos and tests, for that’s what they were, had sapped his energy. His mood was sullen.

Tecumseh’s buoyancy was the only spark in his life, right then.

Al followed behind as the little mutt terrier sniffed and nudged his way along the path. At one point, there were a few sprinkles of rain, but that hadn’t affected neither Al nor the dog. They both seemed to need this walk. Tecumseh, to burn off nervous energy, and Al to get past his horrible day and sour mood.

After turning a bend at the far end of the apartment complex, Tecumseh practically pulled the leash out of Al’s hand. Luckily, the lead was wrapped tightly, because the little dog tried to escape, jerking Al’s arm harshly.

Al glared in the direction of the dog’s route and smiled at what excited the terrier. It was a small, brown, desert rabbit, with long ears and expressively dark eyes, at the base of a culvert. The culvert framed the animal. The bunny was staring straight at them.

Tecumseh wasn’t having it, and heaved on the leash again, attempting to drag Al toward the animal.

Al sighed, and held him back. At first, they just stood there, and then the man allowed the dog to creep closer, slowly. The rabbit seemed unperturbed by them. His, or her, nose twitched, but those dark brown eyes held steady on them as they approached.

Suddenly, the rabbit jumped, no leaped, into the air and scurried, disappearing into the culvert. Al paused, and Tecumseh also tried to bolt, though the strap held him back.

Even more slowly, they walked closer. Al had to. Tecumseh was straining so hard on the leash, he was grunting. That’s when Al saw a flicker.

Something was moving in the dry, tan grass at the foot of the cement culvert. It was too small to see at first. Gradually, a rippling line began to emerge. The vegetation was opening up to something small, but determined, moving carefully.

Obviously, that is what caused the rabbit to escape into the culvert.

Al tugged Tecumseh back. He worried it could be a rat, or a snake. Or worse, another small dog.

Tecumseh looked back at him, and he was scowling, as much as a dog can scowl. Al could also see the dog was eagerly nosing, sniffing, twitching in the direction of the culvert.

They moved closer, down the gentle hill.

The grass blades bent and waved.

There was a flash of white between the tufts.

Al stopped as Tecumseh pulled even more eagerly. Now the thing stepped from behind the bunched grass and looked at them.

It was a kitten. A small kitten, mostly white, but with a lovely patch of orange fur across its face and the top like a crown on the top of its head. The coloring was very interesting and unique. It was a pattern Al had never really seen before on a feline.

Bravely, the tiny cat mewled, silently at first, but then louder.

Tecumseh sat back on his haunches, and growled, very quietly.

The kitten stepped toward them, now meowing more loudly; its little tinkling voice heard above the gentle hush of the breeze.

Al didn’t know what to do. Tecumseh looked up at him, and his eyes also seemed to wonder at the scene before them.

The kitten leaped over a rock, and then cocking its head, meowed again, licking its chops.

Al felt frozen.

The kitten wasn’t. It continued picking its way closer to the dog, who once again looked back at his human in confusion.

About five feet away, the little cat stopped, and sat down, licked its muzzle, blinking.

Tecumseh now became brave. He stood up and sniffed the air, trying to catch hold of the kitten’s scent. The kitten mewled again, inquisitively.

The dog stepped forward, and then stopped.

Al considered and then crouched down. Tecumseh turned and scampered the couple of feet back to his master. He sat next to the man’s thigh, looking up and then back over at the kitten.

The kitten stepped another few inches nearer.

“Are you thirsty?” Al asked as the kitten’s tiny pink tongue darted over its lips.

Al pulled out Tecumseh’s bowl and set it down in front of him. He unscrewed the cap from his water bottle and poured some into the container. Tecumseh moved even closer to Al.

The kitten scurried up to the water dish and began lapping eagerly at the water.

Tecumseh growled, very low in his chest, and it reverberated against Al’s leg.

“Shush,” Al said. “The kitty just wants some water.”

Tecumseh growled again.

The kitten ignored them both, drinking noisily.

Tecumseh stood up, and moved slowly.

The kitten never paused.

Tecumseh snorted.

The kitten looked up, licked droplets from its chin, and then dipped back down to the bowl.

Tecumseh, now braver, stepped out and stood in front of the bowl. He nuzzled the kitten with his snout, pushing the kitten away from the bowl.

The tiny feline hissed, and pushed back, once again supping from the water dish.

Al began to chuckle. It was at first a little rusty, but soon it was loud and uncontrolled. The chuckle turned to laughter as Tecumseh struggled to deal with a tiny kitten that had apparently bested him, taking over his water bowl.

The dog looked at him, begging for help.

The kitten looked at him, innocently.

Al fell backwards onto his backside and snorted in fun.

That’s how they met Javelina.

He named her Javelina because she was brave, like the wild peccaries that roamed the desert. She was assertive, without being mean. The wild swine were fierce looking, but could be shy at times, though inquisitive and bold as well.

But mostly, Al called her that because the little kitten was such a pig. The cat was serious about her food. She ate, demanded more, and then when the dish was darkened by the dog, would become almost feral.

Al didn’t want another animal, but the tiny cat ingratiated herself into his life. He and Tecumseh were powerless to stop this force of nature, who burrowed into their lives.

She could have been rabid, had fleas, and might have been afflicted with some other ailment. The kitten could have been another family’s animal, a child’s pet, or a little old lady’s new housemate. The feline had no collar.

The vet, Tecumseh’s doctor, said she was clean and free of any health issues. She had no chip identifying her. Javelina had popped into their world from nowhere.

Almost against his own will, Al brought the kitten into his life.

That leap of faith changed everything. Within a couple of days, Al had changed his routine. Javelina, hungry and vocal as she was, demanded breakfast every morning by six o’clock, just as the sun began to rise in the east. She needed her litter box cleaned every day otherwise she’d squawk and worry him until he sifted out the clumps.

Even taking her to the vet had altered his life. The awkward, but very friendly vet tech, a new guy, had taken time to explain all the ins and outs of taking care of a kitten. There had even been an exchange of phone numbers, just in case something odd happened with Javelina that needed attention. Tony was a bit older than Al, almost thirty, but he was kind with a ready smile that Al couldn’t resist. That had surprised him.

Even Tecumseh’s routine changed because when he wanted to walk, Javelina needed some cuddles afterwards. She couldn’t tolerate being left behind.

Al felt like the creepy and oppressive jacaranda trees weren’t quite as spooky. Instead of invoking the wrath of nature down upon the earth, they seemed to reach up and embrace the sky. The park seemed greener, and the nights cooler. Even work seemed to go more smoothly, until about three weeks after Javelina nosed her way into his life.

The inhumane resources manager, Todd was reviewing Al’s most recent client reviews. Al was listening, just barely, because Tecumseh was busy deconstructing one of his old socks. The heel had been removed, and the threads were dangling from the dog’s chin. He was so intent on his work, Al barely heard Todd’s comments.

“So, to sum up, it appears your clients are overall more satisfied than before,” Todd said, reading from his screen, his glasses once again sliding down his greasy nose. “I’d say watching those videos and running through those practice sessions really made a big impact.”

Al nodded and looked back at Todd’s smug face. “That’s good, right?” Al finally added.

“Oh, yes,” Todd intoned. “Keep up the good work.”

It was at that moment, Javelina leaped from the bookcase along side his desk and onto the desktop. The kitten sniffed and looked directly at the screen, then back at Al.

Al heard the other man gasp.

Javelina reached out a paw and tugged at Al’s shirt sleeve. With a little croak, the kitten tilted her head and sniffed again.

Al smiled and brushed the kitten furry head with a finger. The sound from his computer startled him.

“That’s our cat!”

Al looked up, away from the kitten and at the screen. Todd’s smug, pinched face was now looking shocked and a flushed pink, his cheeks a splotchy red.

“I’m sorry,” Al said. “What did you say?”

Todd blustered, “That kitten is my daughter’s. Where did you get her!”

“What?” Al asked, now thoroughly confused. “This is my kitten. I found her a couple of weeks ago outside my apartment building.”

“Well, I’m sure that’s Agatha. It looks just like her.” The man leaned closer, looking through Al’s monitor at his desktop. He sat up quickly and announced, “That’s the kitten my daughter got a month ago.” Todd looked thrilled, and excited. “Where did you find her?”

Al’s mouth had dropped open, and now he snapped it shut. “That’s not possible. I found her in east Mesa.”

“We live in east Mesa!” Todd barked. “We live in the Mirage de Sol neighborhood.”

Al felt his heart thump woodenly. His chest was hollow, and it ached with the implications. That was where he lived. That’s when the little choker with the tiny cross appeared. It swung free from Todd’s shirt when he leaned forward. Its shiny aspect beckoned to him.

Al said, almost dazed, “But, she didn’t have a collar or a chip.”

Todd’s pursed lips and angry grimace now spread over his face. “We just got her and had an appointment with a vet. The next day,” the words were coming hot and furious now, “my daughter accidently left the door open for a minute, and Agatha escaped. We’ve been looking everywhere for her.”

Al swallowed hard. That little silver necklace shined in the light of the computer monitor, and it flashed a spark of blue.

“I haven’t seen any notices or…,” he said, but his attention was on the jewelry.

“We put up a sign on the complex bulletin board and on the community Facebook page.”

Al now felt his blood drain. His dry throat hurt when he said, “But she’s my cat.”

“I’m sure that’s her. We have papers and everything.” Todd said, and his voice was like the booming sound of judgment. “Thank you so much for taking care of her.”

As Toad the Inhumane Resources guy crossed his arms, the little cross glinted again, this time red.

Al didn’t say anything. He looked down and watched as Javelina butted his hand trying to get him to resume petting her.

***

Three days later…

“… his body was found behind a dumpster at the Mirage del Sol apartment complex. Police have not released the victim’s name, pending notification of his death to his loved ones. Detective Steve Sargent confirmed the man was strangled, and they have several leads to pursue.

In other news….”

Al gently petted Javelina. She was cuddled in his lap as he watched the news. The kitten lifted her paw and licked at it, then rubbed its head and ears. She was purring, content and happy. Tecumseh was laying at his feet, his head laying contently on his outstretched paws.

Al looked over at the bookcase with all his treasures and at his newest addition. The silver cross seemed to wink at him, though he couldn’t see it.

Not placed among the others.