After seeing and talking to Dick at a few signings, I realized something; he truly had a blast with his writing. It came through in his writing and when you talked to him. You can’t separate one from the other. His personality and writing are interrelated.
Dick was the real deal. As much as any of us try to emulate him, none of us will ever match him. But one thing I can take from him and make my own is this: I can enjoy the hell out of what I do. If I enjoy it, maybe others will feel the same way.
I think that’s something Dick would agree with.
Jonathan Torres
HE UNMARKED, WHITE-PANELED van sidled up to the front of the driveway and lurched to a stop.
“Why’d we stop?” Henry righted himself in the cracked, avocado-green passenger seat.
David pointed out the passenger-side window. “I thought I saw one run into that garage.”
Henry turned and studied the open two-car garage. As he expected, nothing moved within the gray-shadowed maw.
“It’s amazing how you can see one every few hours.”
“What the hell are you trying to imply? Do you think I like going home with their smell all over me? But you wouldn’t know anything about that since you never get close enough to one!”
Henry turned and tuned him out. Well, you wouldn’t get their smell on you if you didn’t-—
Something jabbed him in the head. “Are you listening to me in there?”
“Don’t touch me!” Henry slapped David’s hand away. “Fine, let’s go snipe hunting.”
Doors slid back and they jumped out. Henry opened the utility compartment on his side of the van. He pulled out a four-foot long aluminum pole with a loop of reinforced nylon cord hanging out the end and handed it to David. He stuck his hand back into the compartment and took out a stun gun. He wrapped his hand around the stock and pressed the button. A streak of blue-white electricity crackled across the metal contacts.
David snatched the stun gun out of his hands. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? No one uses this except me. You are not properly trained to use such a dangerous device.”
David slipped the stun gun into the waist of his pants, metal contacts down.
Henry put his hand back into the compartment and pulled out a chain-linked leash. He closed the compartment door and looped the leash around his hand.
Henry started up the driveway when a hand on his shoulder pulled him back.
“Now Henry,” there was that tone: soft, almost lyrical. He sensed what was coming. It made his stomach gurgle like snails frothing into nothingness after a salt shower. If he turned around he was sure he would see white bubbles slipping down David’s mouth.
“You got to try and be more aggressive in there. Don’t be afraid to manhandle them if you have to. Don’t worry, I won’t tell.” Henry turned. David’s lips were stretched too high and too tight for a friendly grin.
Henry pulled himself from David’s grip and started up the driveway. “I’ll try to remember that.”
“Henry!” David’s voice plummeted an octave. “Don’t go pussyfooting around anymore.”
As they strode up the driveway with David jockeying to get ahead, the front door opened and out stepped a short, balding man wearing a T-shirt and khaki shorts.
“God damn,” David whispered as he stopped next to Henry. “Don’t people work around here?
“Sir,” David said, adopting a professional tone, “get back in your house.” The man froze and stared, surprised to see them standing midway in his driveway. “We have the situation under control.”
“Situation?”
Henry felt the quiet, exasperated breath before David tried to explain as succinctly as possible what they were doing.
“We’re with the Department of Health, O.V.M. Division.”
The man blanched and backed toward the door.
“Good idea, sir.”
They waited until the man disappeared inside the house.
“Damn residents,” David said. “Between them and your snipes, I’d take the snipes. There’s no law against killing snipes.”
They separated upon entering the garage; Henry took the left side. He was deliberate, looking under the car and behind boxes. In his three months working this job, he had seen strays hiding in the most unusual places, sometimes folded so tight they had to be cut out of their hiding place.
“God, look at this one!”
Damn, Henry thought. He was right.
The animal cowered in the corner, curled like a fetus, knees drawn up against its naked chest.
It lifted its head. From beneath grime-coated knots of hair glowed large, translucent, green eyes that seemed to light up its face.
“Look at the tits on this one.” David adjusted the crotch of his jeans. “It’s giving me the wiggles.”
“Save it,” Henry said. “Let’s finish this.”
“Don’t be getting Puritanical on me. People might get the idea that you care. Just do your job and shut up.”
Henry ignored him and let the leash unravel. He dragged it along the floor, drawing the animal’s attention.
He flicked the leash.
It hit the animal’s ear. The animal instinctively tried to grab the leash. It uncurled, leaving itself open. David rushed in, slipped the loop over the animal’s head and pulled it tight. The stray struggled and batted at the pole.
“Let’s get this thing into the van!” David fought as the animal tried to yank the pole out of his hands.
Henry ran and opened the door to the back of the van while David dragged the animal down the driveway. The asphalt scoured off skin from its hands and knees as it pushed back against David.
David climbed into the back of the van and pulled the stray up. It floundered at the end of the pole, blindly trying to step on the bumper to keep from choking. It found a foothold and clambered inside.
David bent down, took a temporary chain leash anchored to a metal ring on the floor and secured it around the animal’s head. He removed the loop and handed the pole to Henry. David ducked back into the van and began to close the door.
Henry stopped the door. “David, not now. If the lab guys find out—”
“Forget the lab guys! Just get into the van and drive!” David turned and headed back toward the animal.
Henry swung the door; before it shut he saw David’s pants fall and heard the clack of the stun gun hitting the floor. Door locked, he put the pole back in its compartment. He hurried to the driver’s seat, anxious to be underway. Plans had changed. They were now bound for their private dumping hole.
The engine grumbled to life. He put the van into gear and lurched into the street.
Thunder reverberated within the van as the thin sheet-metal walls were struck. The animal barked and mewled in the back.
This was one of the best specimens they had ever captured; it was obvious that underneath all that dirt and grime was a sleek and flawless creature.
And those green eyes. They threatened to hypnotize him if he stared too long.
Henry tingled as he imagined the animal hunkered down on its knees while its head whipped back and forth against David’s thrusts. His heart raced at the thought of watching those moist green eyes flare as David ripped into it.
It would be a shame to waste such a creature on science. An animal like that was good for one thing: enjoyment.
Henry shuddered and shook his head. “Damn, I’m starting to think like David.” He squeezed his legs together, shoving his erection against the unyielding denim of his jeans.
But those eyes called to him from the back of his mind; they flared with each heartbeat. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shatter the images with an explosion of gritty afterimage pinpricks. He clenched the steering wheel harder, trying to resist his thoughts.
Henry stopped the van, jumped out and ran to the back. He unlocked the door and opened it.