Stepping out my front door, the heat assaults me, steals my breath and leaves me gasping. Its partners-in-crime are an eye-stinging haze and an unpleasant smoky smell in the air.
An old hound, owner of the expression ‘hangdog’ if ever there was but most likely happy and well-loved, is sprawled across the pavement. He could probably sniff and say exactly what’s on fire but lacks the voice to tell me.
The city is hot, too hot to be outside. People cower under bus shelters and huddle against shop windows. I fossick for shade, abandoning plans for a morning coffee in the sun. My favourite café looks abandoned, the outdoor furniture unused and still stacked. I push the door open then stand there as the cool air rushes out at me.
A voice chides from within. “Hey, don’t let all the cold air out. You trying to air-condition the world or something?” I step inside and let the door close, smiling at the surly barista. He looks positively livid; his default state. But he makes a to-die-for cup of coffee.
Tony, the big Italian owner, waves at me from the kitchen. I wave back but I’m too hot to bother making small talk. He exaggeratingly wipes his brow then shrugs at me. I nod and make the same gesture. He nods acknowledgement then goes back to his newspaper.
There’s not a free chair in the place and the queue is ten deep so I stand at the end of it and resign myself to waiting. Generally, I don’t mind queues. It is an excuse to gawk at the other customers.
There's a couple in the far corner, hissing quietly back and forth at each other while trying to pretend they're not arguing. She is a stunning middle-aged woman, made-up and dressed expensively. He is younger by at least ten years, with a sheen of youthful handsomeness. I make up a story about them on the spot. It doesn’t end well.
Near them, a pretty girl sits by herself. She has her ears plugged and is nodding to an unheard song. I watch for a bit as she mouths the words. She catches me looking and frowns her discomfort. I look away and make up another story about her. This one doesn’t end well either.
I continue to make up stories for those gathered until the queue has me at the counter. Most of my tales don’t end well, except for the one about the gorgeous waitress and me.
The cranky barista doesn’t bother asking me what I’d like; he starts to make my usual. I want to confound him and ask for something different but don’t have the guts. Said gorgeous waitress takes my money and returns a smile and a “Hi, how are you today?”
I don’t know why but I always have problems talking to pretty girls. My usual verbosity is turned upside down and I lose the capacity for coherent conversation. I respond monosyllabically. “Hot”.
“Ooo, yes, isn’t it? I can hardly wait to finish then I’m heading to the beach. I hope it won’t too crowded.” She gives me a bit of a look and I grunt and offer her a pathetic grin. Thankfully, the barista hands me my coffee and I dash outside. I’m convinced she thinks I’m a weirdo.
On the street, the heat is now an invading army. It doesn’t play favourites and takes no prisoners. I stand in front of the café, wondering where I could go to hide out. I have no patience for the large mall around the corner although I know it will be cool. The only real option I have is to head back home.
As I turn that way, a fire engine goes screaming by, then an ambulance. The haze in the sky now seems a little more ominous. I make up another story as I go home. In this one, I’m a hero who rescues a pretty girl (who, by pure coincidence, looks like the cute waitress) from a blazing inferno.
However, my damned imagination has me looking like a cross between Fabio and Bear Grylls, an all action-man with flowing locks and completely the opposite of what I'm in real life. I don’t think I’d create an avatar so corny.
The old hound is still sprawled out on the pavement. I lean down and pat him but he doesn’t move. His long tongue falls out of his mouth onto the hot cement. He doesn’t pull it back in or yelp or anything. I step back, shocked.
I knock on my neighbour’s door, hoping someone will be home. I hear someone walking down the hall. The door cracks open and my neighbour peers out.
“Hello?” She sounds surprised and a little bit pissed off.
“Er, I think there’s something wrong with your dog.” I gesture with my head.
“What! Where is he?”
“He’s lying out there on the pavement.” I point behind me. I want to say something more but can’t. Instead, I step back, hoping she’ll come out and deal with it. All I want to do now is get out of the way, just in case he is dead. I have problems dealing with grief.
“How do I know you’re not trying to get into my house? I’ve heard about all the tricks people use.”
I’m stunned. I’ve been living next to this woman and her family for a number of years. I could understand it if I were a stranger but I’m not. “It wouldn’t be a very smart thing to rob my neighbour, now would it?” I try to make my voice sound light and friendly.
“Yes, but that’s what you might want me to think.”
I don’t know what else I can say so we stand and stare at each other. Eventually, she gives in. “Oh, I suppose I know where you live.” She opens the door and steps out onto the front porch. I follow her out onto the pavement. The dog is now lying on his back, exposing himself like a cheap hussy.
My neighbour reaches down and rubs the dog’s belly. He squirms with pleasure. The damned thing had been playing possum and I feel like a right idiot. My neighbour throws me a look as if to say she agrees.
My face is a fire of embarrassment. And I can’t call anyone to put it out.
Comments
insertponceyfre... | March 30, 2011 - 07:44
I love this little slice of life dynamaso. It's very well written, and I really like the part where you make up stories about everyone - I do exactly the same. It's the dead on the right length too.
SteveM | March 30, 2011 - 09:03
Hi Mark, This one is quite a little gem. Particularly like the confrontation with the neighbour. Funny people neighbours, a bit like relatives, you don't choose them, and just hope they're going to act in a reasonable way.
Steve
p.s. Part 6 - 'Miracali' now on ABC
Silver Spun Sand | March 30, 2011 - 09:24
I loved every single word of this, Mark. You are a story-teller extraordinaire...in my book at least. Thanks for making me smile. Great writing! A more than deserved cherry.
Tina
Dynamaso | March 30, 2011 - 09:37
Thanks so much, Insert. I really enjoy writing this piece. It is very much like the sort of work I enjoy reading as well.
Mark
Dynamaso | March 30, 2011 - 09:46
Steve, I completely agree about neighbours - you just can't pick 'em, can you? Pleased you enjoyed this one, mate and I'm looking forward to reading Part 6.
Mark
Dynamaso | March 30, 2011 - 09:47
Tina, thanks for your kind comment. Really pleased this made you smile.
Mark
oldpesky | March 30, 2011 - 11:03
I liked the way the heat has drained you of all inclination to communicate with anyone and settle for making up stories in your head. And then this imagination leads you to go out your way to speak to a neighbour about your concerns which turn out to be totally unfounded. Great ending.
Dynamaso | March 30, 2011 - 11:24
Oldpesky, it really is kind of what I do in real life, as do a lot of us creative types. My favourite artists are those who find something special in the ordinary, a quality some of your work exhibits. I'm pleased you enjoyed this and thank you for your kind comment.
celticman | March 30, 2011 - 12:08
Hey, I liked all those bad ending for the stories you create in your head. And of course you-or Bear Gryllis you, whoever that is-get the pretty girl.
great story.
Joegillon | March 30, 2011 - 15:06
OK, I'm new here and not clear how this works but I'm just gonna tell you what I think and probably get kicked off the site. What this looks like to me is a promising idea for a story. You got a setting, you got a whimsical protagonist, you got a whacko neighbor. You got that dog. But that's it. Where's the meat, as the old lady asked. Don't tell me you made up a story about the couple or the waitress, tell me the damn story. I really want to hear how you rescued the damsel in distress. But those are just warm-up stories. Now we meet the antagonist, the whacko neighbor. Of course our hero is gonna make up stories about her too, right? And what then? What's the kicker? Maybe something like, no matter how hard he tries he can't make up stories that out-bizarre the actual doings of the neighbor? And let's not forget her husband and kids. Are they also whacky? Maybe the whole lot of them are completely nutcase and their hangdog dog just lays around looking at their shenanigans and moaning? Or not. Maybe we get something completely unexpected from this quarter. Well, anyway, one man's opinion, FWIW.
Dynamaso | March 30, 2011 - 20:47
Celticman, thanks for your comment, sir. I'm sure I'm not alone in making up stories about people we meet every day. It makes people-watching fun.
Dynamaso | March 30, 2011 - 21:04
Joegillion, I appreciate your opinion but don't agree with it. I never intended for this piece to be anything more than a short story. Some of my favourite short stories leave a lot of the details up to the imagination of the reader. I guess you require more 'meat' to stimulate yours.
Thanks for reading and commenting. And for saying what you think.
Joegillon | March 30, 2011 - 21:07
I'm very relieved you didn't take it amiss. As to length, that seems to be one of my problems.
Joegillon | March 30, 2011 - 21:07
I'm very relieved you didn't take it amiss. As to length, that seems to be one of my problems.
Dynamaso | March 30, 2011 - 23:31
Joegillion, I appreciate your candour. Constructive criticism, even if I don't agree with it, is always welcome.
tcook | March 31, 2011 - 16:41
This is our Facebook and Twitter pick of the day.
That should get a few more comments flowing!
Join us on Facebook at ABCtales.com
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Get a great reading recommendation most days.
Highhat | March 31, 2011 - 18:06
I make up stories when waiting in a queue too. This was a great short story- well worthy of cherries etc..well done and thanks for the amusing read.
;)Pia
Dynamaso | March 31, 2011 - 23:01
Thanks very much for the cherry and for making this peice pick of the day. I am really chuffed.
Dynamaso | March 31, 2011 - 23:14
Pia, I always thought I was a bit weird the way I made up stories while waiting in queues, on buses etc., but the more I talk to other writers, the more I find we all do it. I don't feel so weird anymore (at least about this, anyway). Thanks for reading and for your kind comment.
Mark
Joegillon | April 1, 2011 - 18:03
My wife read this and informs me I'm FOS. that makes it official.
fatboy74 | April 1, 2011 - 21:45
I think what makes this so good dynamaso is that we are always told the story, and this turns that on its head in some ways. Very much enjoyed and worthy pod. :-)
Dynamaso | April 1, 2011 - 22:05
Joe, my wife thinks I'm FOS too but it makes for interesting conversations. As you said, yours is one man's opinion and there aint nothing wrong with that.
Mark
Dynamaso | April 1, 2011 - 22:09
Fatboy, I like the idea of having my imagination stimulated by what ever isn't on the page. Personally, I prefer stories that leave blanks for me to fill. Its good exercise. Thanks for reading.
Mark
maggyvaneijk | April 4, 2011 - 22:23
such a fabulous read filled with a great sense of humour and I agree with all the above comments, the part about making up stories is something we all do I think, I especially do it in the bus and there's a lot of weird and wonderful people on the bus!
Dynamaso | April 5, 2011 - 07:27
Maggy, I do it on the bus too. Using public transport is such an inspiration as it puts you right up close and personal with some terrific characters.
Thanks for reading and for your terrific comment. Pleased you enjoyed this.
Geoffrey | April 28, 2011 - 08:11
I liked it. The whole point about short stories is that they're short. If you wanted to write a book or a novel that would be different. Plenty of ideas in the story to develop if and when you please.
Dynamaso | May 3, 2011 - 04:39
Geoffrey, I really enjoy both reading and writing short stories - some of my favourite writers are masters of the art. After a few of the comments here, I thought about developing this further but then decided I liked it as it is. Glad you did too. And thanks for commenting.