Heaven

a short story

Fun story for Tuesday, the Rodney Dangerfield of the week.

Heaven

Saturday night with Sid and Dana started out like any other for Marjorie and me. The usual kind of get-together we had each week with another couple. A kind of round robin of check-ins with friends and neighbors, at our house or theirs. We’d sit around, have a few drinks, talk about politics or the kids. Catch up and sometimes play some cards. Ordinary life, and the living is good.

Sid and Dana were a pair we didn’t see as often as most. They spent a lot of time traveling from coast to coast, even went overseas from time to time. The kind of life we envied, Marjorie and I. We couldn’t afford that style of living, but it was fun to hear their stories and live vicariously. This particular night, they rolled up on their split-seat motorcycle, all decked out in leather. Looked like a couple of aliens stalking up the walkway with silver helmets on their heads.

I met them at the door, while Majorie held back the hounds. We had four. A r, named Spit. A dachshund, called Gore. Peter, the Pitbull. Then the newest addition, Maxi, a mutt we knew nothing about except that she was big. I didn’t make it to the door quickly enough, and the sound of the doorbell set the dogs a roar. Marjorie was an adept handler, however, and herded them outside.

Sid handed me a twelve-pack, and Dana bustled in with a bottle of red wine straight from their latest trip to Vienna. Cans were cracked, and the cork popped. We buzzed around the kitchen island,, loaded with an offering of delights to please a royal court. It’s our way, putting on a big spread. Hospitality 101, the Smith-Jones edition.

Plates fully loaded, the four of us spread out in the living room for a leisurely feast. Sid and I talked about sports, which was great, because I was up to here with politics. I don’t know much about sports, but can throw in some appreciation for teams close to home. The Utah Jazz won again. Great! Broncos got some nice draft picks this year. Wow. Good to hear! Let Sid loose on sports and settle back listening to enthusiastic recounts. Perfect. Less I heard about the world in chaos and whose fault it was, the better.

The wives talked softly, and I couldn’t quite hear. My eyes wandered over to where they sat, heads close together, staring into Dana’s cell phone screen. Looking at pictures was my guess. There were always plenty of pictures to show after one of Sid and Dana’s trips. I drifted back to Sid, talking about March Madness coming up with a crazed look in his eye, for which I was thankful. It reminded me that the dogs were still outside and little Spit and Gore were likely freezing their little tails off by now. Before Sid could launch into a new spiral about college championships and his bets on favorite teams, I held up my hand.

“One sec, Sid,” I said, getting to my feet. “Gotta let in the hounds. Cold out there, tonight.”

A flash of something like disappointment crossed Sid’s face as he sank back in his chair. I wandered past the ladies, passing a gentle smile to Marjorie, who looked like she could use the encouragement. Dana’s recounting of a riverboat excursion buzzed into my ear, and I nearly made it to the end of the couch before it snagged me.

“Oh, Martin. Did you hear what I was telling, Marjorie?”

My right foot dragged me to a full stop. Don’t do it Martin, I told myself. I knew the consequences. Sid could talk my ear off, no doubt about it. I understood it as surely as I knew the glazed expression on Marjorie’s face. Once Dana got going on something, she was a dog with a bone. She could talk your ear off on a travel topic as good as any Sunday television evangelist could describe heaven. And when she got to the end of the story, if there was an end, Dana would circle back and reiterate what you might not have caught the first time. Hell, she’d tell it so good, you could be a keynote speaker at an international travel expo. It was a lot, and she was the reason I never needed to leave the country. Don’t get me wrong. I like the woman, but I like her best from afar and while chewing.

So, I caught myself just before the turn. Threw a half-cocked smile over my shoulder. “Be right back.” I took in the silent plea in Marjorie’s eyes once again. “I’ll get the Scrabble box on my way back. A little word play tonight, eh?”

Seemed a reasonable distraction from a night trapped inside a travel brochure with a star tour guide. Make words. Count points. Change the subject. At least I had the plan in mind. Dana sat back, looking nonplussed by my sidestep, and readjusted the half-eaten plate of food on her lap.

My hand hit the backdoor knob, and a glimmer of realization struck me. The glimmer was not fast enough to stop me from turning the knob and tugging. As soon as I did, a little ding went off inside my head. The food.

First through the door came Peter, his big blockhead pushing open the door like a bulldozer. Spit and Gore’s little feet scrambled over the tiles, racing like a pair of miniature raptors unable to get full traction. Then came Maxi, lopping slowly. Black and white woolly mammoth among dogs.

It would have been fine, aside from a little bit of chaotic excitement to greet our guests. The food, however, put a whole different spin on the situation at hand. I was suddenly a minor character in a movie, witnessing what was about to go down, but unable to warn anyone before it would happen. I turned, slow motion, and opened my mouth to alert the victims. The words running like a ticker tape over my brain, but I couldn’t keep up with them in my state of mental suspension.

My eyes latched onto Spit as sudden traction at the edge of the Persian carpet gave him wings. He launched onto the back of Sid’s chair, nose testing the mix of aromas in the room like a sailor checking wind with a wet finger. Gore ran in circles, yapping and biting at the air. While Peter stood at the center, staring with intensity at Dana’s plate.

My tongue flicked out a sound that was supposed to say, Dana, bring your plate over here. Instead, it came out as “da-pl-uer!”. Translated to caninean apparently means, “The food is on the lap of that woman making all the sounds.”

They converged on her in a blur of furry flurry. Peter rammed his snout into Dana’s kneecaps, a devious ploy, and I admired the tactic alongside my horror. She screamed, springing to her feet. Terror-stricken by the sheer look of him. The plate landed neatly at her feet, an instant before she jumped onto the couch cushion and hurled her body over the back side. Marjorie observed quietly.

An instant free-for-all unfolded. Spit and Gore engaged in snarl-to-snarl combat. Peter stood in protective stance, fanged out, with Dana’s plate of chicken wings, potato salad, and mini hot dogs between his front paws. His great chest heaved, pressing the guttural tones of a Walder wolf through the strangled mass of neck muscles. The sound raised the hairs inside my ears and prickled needles all over the back of my skull. He faked a lunge at Gore, one paw flinging a saucy wing in Spit’s direction. Spit went for it, so did Gore, who got it first. He ran for it, as fast as his little legs could go. right through the bridge of Peter’s brutish form. He might have made a clean getaway if Spit hadn’t figured out the strategy and met him tail-end.

Peter set to devouring what remained. Spit and Gore brought their war for the chicken wing between Sid’s legs. The man raised his fork in defense, rearing back in fear of the tiny brutes.

“Martin!” Sid cried for my assistance.

I, seeing the glint of silvery tines, leaped forward. Not for Sid’s sake, I am embarrassed to admit, but for the welfare of my two lunatics. The pair rolled together, snapping and yipping. The chicken wing lay forgotten as the war became personal vengeance. Spit jumped into Sid’s lap for superior strategy, and Gore sprang at him, snapping the space between Sid’s knees. The fork came down the moment I reached for Gore’s scruff.

A high-pitched howl emitted from surprise and pain. Nearly unrecognizable as mine. From my right hand dangled Gore, in my left hung Spit, and above him was the fork. Prongs embedded, inch-deep within the weave of muscles, tendons, and bones of my hand.

“Son-of-a-bitch.” Sid yelled, wiping his forehead with a shaky hand as if he’d escaped a near-fatal bear attack. “Get a grip on your animals, will you, Martin?”

Dana rushed over, clasping Sid’s head in her hands. “Oh, my poor boy. It’s okay, my love. My darling, man.”

Marjorie took the squirming dogs from me and hurried them into the bedroom, shutting them inside. I pulled the trident from my flesh, unleashing a geyser of blood.

Dana straightened and turned to Marjorie, who hurried to me with a towel. “Oh, you poor dear. I’ve just realized how hard it must be on you, homebound as you are. Tied to this brood of yours. If you ever want to leave, just call me. We would have such a marvelous time together in Nepal. Have you ever been? It’s marvelous, the temples…”

Majorie held up her hand and stopped Dana from saying another word.

“Dana, the evening is over. You have to leave now.”

“Oh, no. It’s alright. We’re quite fine now that the dogs are put away. While we play Scrabble, I can tell you more about Mount Everest. It is like seeing Heaven. You know we stayed at a base camp there a few years ago. Hundreds of people there. So exciting. A friend was going on one of those expeditions to the top.” Dana turned to Sid. “What was his name again, Sid?”

“Charles. Great golfer. The man was a magician on the links.”

Next thing I know, Marjorie is standing in the foyer with the front door wide open. “Thank you for coming.”

Dana looked around, confused. “Marjorie, I don’t understand. Have we upset you with our stories? It’s just that we’re so excited, getting back home, and seeing our friends again. I hope you don’t think that we’re bragging.”

Marjorie’s jaw clenched. “I need to take my husband to the hospital now.”

“Oh.” Dana looked sullen, like a girl who didn’t get the right doll for Christmas. Then suddenly she screamed. “Oh! Oooh!”

There was Maxi, the newest member of the family, whom we knew little about, standing behind Dana, prodding her rear with her nose. Dana staggered forward. But Maxi did not relent. Poking again. Then again. She built a momentum between the two of them. Dog and woman moving toward the door. Sid hurried ahead and grabbed their silver helmets, holding them out in front of him, in self-defense of the ferocious dog.

“Well, good night, then.“ Dana followed Sid over the threshold and turned back with her mouth at the ready for another delivery.

The door closed.

Marjorie turned to me with a tender smile. Shall I get your coat, Martin? I’ll warm up the car for the drive to the hospital.”

I went to her and took her into my arms. “I would rather sit down on the couch with you, instead.”

”But your hand, aren’t you in pain?”

“Not since you closed that door.” Marjorie let out a soft laugh.

We hugged each other tight for a moment. “Besides, we have big plans to make.”

“A trip?”

“Yes. Just you and me. I know how you love to see Canadian Geese.”

Marjorie sighed, resting her head against my chest. “I do so love our walks around the pond. So, peaceful. Just me and you and a bag of bread. It’s heaven.”

I took in a deep breath of pure happiness. “Shall we take the dogs?”

“But of course.”

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Thanks for reading.

Annette

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