Mr. Noe shook his head, blinking rapidly. He found a white handkerchief in his coat pocket, fluffed it out and pressed it to the red half-moon on his forehead. His small eyes found Frank. “I think, Meester, you make a very big mistake.”
“Yeah,” Frank said.
I think, Meester, that I will shoot both you and the dog, yes?” Mr. Noe said, reshouldering his rifle.
“You do what you think you have to,” Frank said.
Mr. Noe pivoted, aiming at Petunia in the street. The hunters parted like the Red Sea, giving him a clear shot. Frank was all out of cans, so he simply whipped one of his long arms out and snatched the rifle from Mr. Noe’s hands. He jerked the banana clip out, aimed up at the sky, and fired off the remaining round.
“You aren’t shooting that dog today,” he said, tucking the clip into the back pocket of his jeans. Frank advanced on Mr. Noe, his eyes glowing with an unnatural light from deep within his blood caked skin. “Understand, I’m sorry about your dog. It’s tough to lose a pet, I know. But your dog asked for it. Now, I’d be happy to bury your dog. I’ll show it the respect you demand. But I’ll be damned if you’re gonna shoot her dog.” He handed the empty rifle back to Mr. Noe.
Mr. Noe stared uncomfortably at this man who looked like he’d just crawled from inside of a gutshot elephant and took the rifle gingerly, keeping it well away from his white suit.
“Okay, Frank, okay,” Sturm said. “It’s been a long day already. Why don’t you head back to the hospital, get yourself cleaned up. You’ll feel better.”
“C’mon Frank,” Annie said, taking his arm. “Let’s get you home.”
* * * * *
She led him across the street. Sturm said something quiet to Mr. Noe, then called to Frank. “Frank. Hold up. Frank!” Sturm trotted over to them. He glanced at Annie for a second, but Frank couldn’t read the expression. “Listen,” he took Frank by the waist, since he couldn’t reach Frank’s shoulders, and led him into the center of Main Street. “Listen, I, ah, don’t worry ’bout this. With this client, I mean. We’ll get his money.” He steered Frank on farther, down to the intersection. “I’ll take care of it. Don’t worry. You just worry ‘bout them cats, okay? You make sure Lady and Princess are in the best of health, okay? That’s all I’m asking for.” He glanced at Mr. Noe. “I’ll take care of Mr. Dipshit here. You just go on back to the office and get cleaned up. And keep them cats happy.”
Sturm stopped at the crosswalk white line. Frank took three more steps and looked back. Sturm scuffed his boot against the pavement. “And just as important, I also just wanted to apologize for my behavior the other day, when me and Theo were getting a picture of the monkey.” Frank stopped and listened. “Didn’t mean to come on so strong. Sometimes my temper really gets a hold of me and I don’t know if it’s cause of the tumor or what, but it seems like when it happens, all I can do is spit fire. You’re doing a fine job. Keep it up. Now, you take that bottle and go on back to the office and have some fun.”
* * * * *
“Me and Petunia, we’re lucky, you know.”
“Why?”
Annie still had her arm linked in Frank’s, and now she took his hand, interlacing her fingers within his. They were walking south along the highway, towards the vet hospital. The sun was still at least an hour away from the horizon, but Frank couldn’t feel it anymore. Maybe the dried blood acted as some kind of extra-strength sunblock. The Jack Daniel’s was nearly gone.
“’Cause we met you, dumbshit.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You stopped him.”
Frank shook his head. “Nah. I just distracted him.”
“No. You stopped a man from shooting my dog. I owe you.”
Frank shook his head again. “Shit, if it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been there.” He coughed out a chuckle. “Shit, if it wasn’t for me, he wouldn’t of been there. Hell, I’m the one who brought all this to your town.”
Annie didn’t answer. They walked in silence, past the quiet streets that branched off the main road. “Maybe so,” she said finally. “But this town was dead long before you showed up. Now, for the people left, for my family, there’s a chance to make something of themselves. There’s a chance to make some money.” She caressed his shoulder with her free hand, picking away at the dried blood.
“I don’t know. Sturm doesn’t seem to be in much of a hurry to pay me. Has he paid your family yet?”
“Of course.”
“All of it?”
Annie thought for a moment. “Well, no, I guess not. He dropped off the down payment, and we used that for supplies.”
“When’s he supposed to pay the rest?”
“I don’t know.”
“What if he doesn’t pay your family?”
“He will,” Annie laughed nervously. “Would you try to cheat my family?”
“No. But I’m not dying of cancer, either.”
They walked in silence for a while.
“All I know is that there’s an awful lot of cash coming into this valley,” Frank said. “And I don’t know if Sturm is gonna share.”
* * * * *
They reached the vet hospital. Instead of going in, she uncoiled a hose, turned the water on, then drank deeply. She turned to him, letting the water hit her chest briefly. “Oops.” The thin cotton greedily drank the water, transforming the fabric into a transparent sheen. “You wouldn’t happen to have some kind of tub around here, would you?”
Frank didn’t take long. “Think there might be something in the barn. Let me check.” Sure enough, buried deep in a pile of junk in the stall next to the rhino, was a metal tub almost three feet deep. He dragged it out to Annie. She had him put in the middle of the back yard, in the direct sunlight, and washed it out.
She said, “Now strip.”
Frank was too tired, too drunk to argue. He peeled off his sticky shirt, and slid his jeans down to his ankles while Annie aimed the stream of water into the tub. Barefoot, but still wearing white underwear, Frank took another swig of whiskey. “In,” Annie said, and flattened her palm against his chest and forced him backwards into the tub.
The water sent sparks through his brain. It felt gloriously cold. Annie grinned and worked the end of the hose along his skull, washing away the flakes of dried blood. She hooked the hose under his knee and let the water continue filling the tub. She handed him the bottle and said, “Drink up. I’ll be right back.”
She went into the vet hospital, leaving Frank alone with his bottle and the hose, shooting fresh, freezing water into his bath. He finished the bottle, deliberately blocking out the day, focusing solely on the field of star thistles and the jagged mountains. He finished the bottle, screwed the cap back on, and let it float around in the tub with him.
Annie came back out with a fresh grin and a bar of soap. She had Frank lean forward so she could work the lather into the short stubble that covered his scalp. “I liked your hair better when it was longer,” she said. “But I can understand why you cut it.” Her strong fingers firmly worked their way up his skull and he shivered. “Sturm told me you had some folks upset with you.”
His vision slipped into liquid darkness. “Sturm told you that?”
“Yeah.” Her slippery smooth fingers moved down to his shoulders, gripping and squeezing.
“When was this?”
“I dunno. The other day.”
The water felt warm all of a sudden; his vision sparked back over, and the quick sun was too bright. “What were you talking to him about?”
“I dunno. Stuff.”
“You talk about me?”
“Already told you. Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He said you were a goddamn genius with all these animals. Idiot savant I believe is what he said.”