BOMB CYCLONE

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Andrew Lloyd-Jones

The Opposite of Dog

 

They met every morning in the middle of the park. There was no formal arrangement as such, but on any given day during the week, at roughly half past ten, the dog walkers would congregate in the exact same spot to talk about the weather, the football, house prices, and any number of entirely inconsequential matters, while their dogs ran about around them, waiting for sticks and balls and toys to be thrown, sniffing and nipping and barking and occasionally shitting.

It was on one such morning that Roger, with his neatly clipped moustache and matching political opinions, was talking to the others about Bulgarian builders and the difficulties of renovating original floorboards. He paused when he noticed a man making his way across the grass towards them. The man was alone. Which is to say, he had no dog.

Hello, said the dogless man.

Hello, said Roger. He then held up his hand in greeting, and offered his name.

A few of the others volunteered similar salutations in the newcomer’s general direction. That morning, their ranks were six strong, a typical cross section of ages, sexes, and social status, plus dogs.

Hello Roger, said the dogless man. Nice day for it, he added, looking up at the sky.

Yes, said Roger. Lovely.

Behind Roger, a brown Alsatian was sniffing excitedly at the tail of a Yorkshire terrier. The terrier yapped and then growled.

Jessica, said a young woman. Stop that.

The young woman held the Alsatian by the collar, steering it away from the smaller dog.

Sorry, Roger, said the young woman. Sorry, Rufus.

No harm done, Shelly, said Roger. No harm done.

The dogless man picked up a nearby stick. He shifted it in his hand, feeling its weight, and then threw it, spinning, across the field. The stick fell in the grass, where it lay still. The dogless man looked in its direction for a few moments, and then turned back to the rest of the group, still smiling. Roger was still looking at the stick.

Lovely, said the dogless man.

Live round here, do you? said Roger eventually.

Not too far away, said the dogless man. It’s nice, isn’t it?

Oh, we love it, said Roger.

That’s good, said the dogless man.

Moved here recently, have you? said Roger.

Not that recently, said the dogless man. I like this park, don’t you?

Yes, said Roger. It’s marvelous.

Yes, said the dogless man. Marvelous.

The dogless man put his hands in his pockets and smiled at Roger. Roger smiled back, though with considerably less enthusiasm. Jessica meanwhile, having lost interest in Rufus, was now sniffing at the dogless man’s crotch.

Jessica, said Shelly. Stop that.

Shelly pulled Jessica away from the dogless man and held her by the collar. The Alsatian barked once, then dropped to the floor, rolling around on the grass. It then stood up, looked around quickly, and ran off towards the trees.

Sorry, she said. Jessica used to be a sniffer dog.

Ah, said the dogless man.

Before we got her, Shelly continued, we used to live on the east side of town. We had to move in the end. Jessica went off her head every time we took her out to do her business. She’s still not quite right.

They say all the squirrels are on crack in that neighborhood, said the dogless man. Because the dealers hide their drugs in the trees.

Really? said Shelly. Jessica doesn’t like squirrels much either. So that might explain it.

The dogless man smiled, and watched as Shelly ran off towards where Jessica was now barking at a tree. It was a good-sized park, as parks go. A hundred metres of grass stretched in every direction, the expanse bordered on all sides by intermittent oaks, with roads and houses beyond. Pedestrians and cyclists passed along the edge of the park, but generally speaking only the dogwalkers frequented it at that time in the morning.

Shelly reappeared with Jessica, now straining on a leash.

Well, said the dogless man. I’d best be off. Nice to meet you all.

Roger was holding out a biscuit to Rufus, who was growling at it.

Good bye, said Roger.

Bye, said Shelly.

The dogless man turned and walked back the way he’d come, until he disappeared behind the trees at the far end of the field.

He seemed nice enough, said Shelly.

Absolutely, said Roger, and he went back to his discussion with the others about woodworm and his apparently unreliable builder.

_______________

A few days later, the dogless man appeared again. He stood and watched Roger as he threw a ball for Rufus using a curved plastic arm with a cup at one end for the purpose. Roger held it behind him and then pitched the arm forward, like a catapult. The ball sailed into the sky, Rufus running towards its landing site.

Good throw, said the dogless man.

Very useful, this, Roger said holding up the plastic arm. Gives you an extra fifty yards. Ever used one?

Can’t say I have, said the dogless man.

There were seven in the group this morning, plus six dogs.

Hello, said a blonde, thin man. I’m Steven.

The thin blond man held out his hand and the two of them shook.

Pleased to meet you, said the dogless man.

Steven turned and looked across the field, where a black greyhound was running in a huge arc around its outskirts.

Archie! he shouted. Here boy!

The dog seemed to take no notice, and continued running along its track. But after a few seconds, it was apparent that he was growing closer and closer as he ran around the field, spiraling inwards towards them.

Straight, Steven shouted. Go straight!

The dog paid no attention whatsoever, maintaining its coiling course. Steven shook his head and turned to the dogless man.

He used to race, he explained. I can’t get him out of the habit of running in circles.

Ah, said the dogless man.

His name was Bishop’s Boy. He never won once, said Steven. They’re all rigged though, he added.

The greyhound had finally wound its way in towards them, and stood panting at Steven’s feet.

Good boy, said Steven.

He picked up a stick one of the other dogs had dropped and flung it as far as he could.

Go get it, he shouted. Go on boy!

The dog watched the stick land, and then set off in a huge arc around the field once more.

Go straight! Go straight! Steven shouted.

It took the dog a minute to reach the stick. When he had it in his mouth, he returned in exactly the same way.

Steven shook his head again.

Bugger, he said.

Never mind, said the dogless man. I’m sure he’ll get the hang of it some day.

They stood and watched a few of the others playing with their dogs, throwing balls and sticks and attempting to separate them when they became too amorous. Rufus in particular seemed to invite attention, something which Roger went to some lengths to discourage.

All these Starbucks coffee bars are a disgrace, said Roger, after having hurriedly made such an intervention.

Can’t say I’ve ever noticed, said the dogless man.

Oh, said Roger. Well.

Hello again, said Shelly.

Shelly had appeared, the ever-traumatized Jessica twitching beside her.

Hello, said the dogless man. I was just about to go.

Oh, that’s a shame, said Shelly. Maybe see you tomorrow.

Absolutely, said the dogless man.

He turned and walked once more in the direction of the trees.

He seemed nice enough, said Steven.

Doesn’t he, said Shelly.

I’m not sure, said Roger. There’s something odd about him.

Odd, said Shelly.

Yes, said Roger. He did seem to know a lot about drugs.

Drugs, said Steven.

Apparently the squirrels east of town are all junkies, said Shelly.

I suspect that’s because the dealers hide their gear in the trees, said Steven.

Then Roger went back to a discussion he had started earlier about cash point pan handlers and parking zones.

_______________

When the dogless man appeared the next day, he was holding a kite, its long, multi-coloured tail whipping furiously in the breeze behind him as he walked across the field. Everyone gathered round him when he arrived, leaving their dogs to their own devices.

What’s that, said Roger.

It’s a kite, said the dogless man.

I love kites, said Shelly.

Me too, said Steven.

I had a kite once, said a white-haired old man with an equally geriatric border collie. When I was stationed in Djibouti.

George talks about Djibouti quite often, Shelly explained to the dogless man as George inspected the kite and proclaimed it, in his words, quite flight-worthy.

I’m not sure this is the best place to fly a kite, said Roger. With the trees.

Are you going to have a go? asked Steven.

Go on, said Shelly.

All right, said the dogless man.

The dogless man handed the kite to Shelly and told her to go back twenty metres and let go of it on his signal. When she was far enough back, he shouted “now” and she threw it in the air as he tugged on the string. The kite immediately caught the wind and began to climb into the sky. Shelly came running back.

That’s brilliant, she said.

The kite kept climbing, until it was the size of a postage stamp in the sky, its franked rainbow tail just visible fluttering behind it.

Make it dive! said Steven.

Make it roll! said George.

Higher! said Shelly. Faster!

One after the other, the dogless man performed a series of manoeuvres with the string, and the kite pitched, rolled, and spun in the air as the various dogs ran around the gathered group.

Eventually, he pulled the kite in, winding the string until it fluttered to the ground beside him.

That was great, said Shelly. You were brilliant.

It’s nothing, said the dogless man.

Makes you think about youths today, said Roger. We were just discussing all those hoodies.

Were we, said Shelly. I don’t remember.

Yes, said Roger. And all their drugs.

Well, said Shelly. I’ve got to get going.

I’ll join you, said the dogless man.

All right, said Shelly, and the two of them walked away together, Jessica running on ahead of them.

You remember, don’t you George, said Roger.

Yes, said George. Remember what?

_______________

The next day, Shelly appeared without Jessica. She was holding a local paper in one hand and a coffee from Starbucks in the other.

Where’s Jessica, said Roger.

She’s at home, said Shelly. I thought she looked a bit tired.

Well, said Roger.

Look, said Shelly.

The dogless man was engaged in an animated conversation with a man dressed in a sanitation worker’s fluorescent yellow jacket. Even though they were the other side of the field, the man’s wild and bushy beard could be seen exploding in all directions above its day-glow lapels.

What’s he doing, said Steven.

He’s talking to that tramp, said Roger.

I don’t think he’s a tramp, actually, said Steven. I think he’s got a home.

Well, said Roger. He certainly doesn’t have a job.

I always thought he helps out with the groundskeepers, said Shelly.

Me too, said Steven.

I think he likes to think he does, said Roger. He’s four sheets to the wind most of the time.

They watched as the dogless man shook hands with the luminous tramp and then waved to him as he walked away. Then the dogless man turned and walked in the direction of the group.

Hello, he said.

Hello, said Shelly.

The dogless man looked at Shelly.

You look different, he said.

I do? Shelly said.

Yes, said the dogless man. You look younger.

Shelly blushed.

Thanks, she said.

Who was that you were talking to, said Roger, nodding in the direction the dogless man had just come.

That’s Jeremy, said the dogless man. He was just telling me about the circus. They’re setting up here in the park next week, apparently.

They make a dreadful mess, said Roger. It’s the grass. It’s a mudfield after they’ve been.

Everyone likes a circus, said the dogless man.

I quite like circuses, said Shelly. I was just reading about it.

Yes, said Roger. But what about the grass?

Grass grows back, said the dogless man.

I was thinking about a petition against it actually, said Roger.

Well, I’ll sign it if it makes you happy, said the dogless man.

But you just said you liked circuses, said Roger.

Yes, but I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, said the dogless man.

I’ll sign it, Roger, said Shelly.

Me too, said Steven.

Everyone agreed they would sign Roger’s petition, though they all also agreed they were quite looking forward to the circus.

Is there going to be a big wheel? said Steven.

I think so, said the dogless man. I didn’t get a chance to ask. Jeremy was running a bit late.

For what, said Roger.

He had a meeting with his financial advisor, said the dogless man.

His financial advisor, said Roger.

Apparently he bought some property years ago and now he’s worth a fortune, the dogless man explained. Owns half the town. Hasn’t changed him a bit, apparently.

So I see, said Roger.

Anyway, I’d best be off, said the dogless man.

I’ll come with you, said Shelly.

All right, said the dogless man.

Roger, George and Steven watched as they walked away together, laughing.

I’m worried about all this graffiti lately, said Roger.

_______________

The next day, Shelly and the dogless man appeared together. Although Roger was mid-way through a monologue aimed in the general direction of the others about parking zone restrictions and the urban blight caused by rental bicycles, he stopped talking when the two of them arrived.

Hello, said Shelly.

Hello, said the dogless man.

Hello, said Roger. I haven’t seen you for a few days, Shelly.

Rufus ran up to the dogless man and barked excitedly around his feet.

Rufus, said Roger. Stop that.

No harm done, Roger, said the dogless man. No harm done.

Roger scowled and scooped Rufus up into his arms.

Well, he said. Lovely morning, isn’t it.

Shelly looked up at the sky.

Few clouds over there, she said. I think it might rain later.

Steven appeared a few minutes later.

Where’s Archie, said Roger when he saw Steven. Roger looked around the outskirts of the park.

I left him at home with Scott, said Steven.

Who’s Scott? asked Roger.

That’s my boyfriend, said Steven.

Oh, said Roger. Well.

Hello, said Shelly. You’re looking well.

Thanks, said Steven.

Have you and Scott been together long? asked Shelly.

Six years now, said Steven. We’re thinking of getting married at Christmas.

Well, said Roger again.

Look what I brought, said Steven.

Steven pulled a boomerang from inside his jacket.

Oooh, said Shelly.

That’s a good one, said the dogless man.

The boomerang was made of a dark brown wood, and had a series of zig zag paterns in white over it, together with little clusters of white dots.

I got this in Australia when we were there last year, said Steven.

Can you do it, said the dogless man.

I’ll give it a go, said Steven.

Steven held it behind his head and flung it into the sky. Rufus ran off after it, barking furiously. Everyone watched as the boomerang swept in a huge arc, spinning around the park, until it arrived back almost exactly to where Steven had been standing. He caught it with a leap. Everyone applauded.

That’s brilliant, said the dogless man.

Do it again! said Shelly.

Steven repeated the throw several times, each time with the same impressive result. And each time, despite Roger’s commands, Rufus went tearing off around the park in an attempt to catch the boomerang.

Steven was showing Shelly and the dogless man how to throw the boomerang, when Roger caught sight of George coming across the field, his greying border collie at his side.

George! he shouted. Good morning!

George was still half-way across the field.

George! shouted Roger again, his voice cracking.

This time, George acknowledged his hail with a wave of his cane.

That’s George, said Roger.

So it seems, said the dogless man.

The four of them stood in silence as George approached.

Hello George, said Steven.

Hello, said George. Looks like it might rain, don’t you think?

We were just saying that, said Shelly. Weren’t we.

Yes, said the dogless man.

Good to see you, George, said Roger. How’s old Shep?

He’s fine, said George, looking up at the sky. I definitely think we’re in for a bit of weather.

Roger stared at George, Steven, Shelly and the dogless man, all looking up at the sky. They stood in contemplative silence until eventually, Roger spoke.

What about all these hoodies, he said.

I’ve got a hoodie, said Shelly. It’s very comfortable. And it’s good when it’s cold.

Is that a boomerang, said George, pointing at Steven’s souvenir.

Yes, said Steven.

I had a boomerang once, said George. In Djibouti. Do you mind if I have a go?

What about the ATM beggars? said Roger. And the parking restrictions?

George held the boomerang in one hand, his stick in the other, and flung it into the sky. It spun in a huge arc, even bigger than Steven’s throws.

That’s amazing, said Steven. How do you do that?

It’s all in the wrist, said George.

_______________

Roger was normally the first to appear in the park each morning. But when he appeared the next day, there were half a dozen already there. He could see them as he walked across the park with Rufus – George with his stick, Shelly, Steven, the menopausal housewife, the young man who was a journalist for the local paper, the dogless man, and several others Roger didn’t recognize. They had an assortment of kites, boomerangs, skittles, Frisbees and various other outdoor recreational items. There was not a dog in sight.

Hello, said Roger.

Hello, said the dogless man.

What’s going on, said Roger.

What do you mean, said Shelly.

Where have all the dogs gone? said Roger.

What dogs, said Steven.

YOUR dogs, said Roger. You’ve all got dogs. Except him.

Roger pointed at the dogless man.

There aren’t any dogs here, said Shelly. Except your one.

I can see that, said Roger. But where are they? Why aren’t they here?

Are you feeling all right, said Steven.

Would you like a go on my kite, said the dogless man.

No I would most certainly not, said Roger.

What about the skittles, said Steven. Or there’s always the boomerang. And Ahmed brought a lawn game from Sweden. It’s brilliant.

No! said Roger. Who’s Ahmed? And what about the dogs?

What about them, said Shelly.

Are you mad? said Roger. We meet with dogs! That’s what we do!

I should lie down if I were you, said Jeremy. You don’t look well.

The man in the sanitation worker’s luminous jacket had appeared.

What’s he doing here? shouted Roger.

That’s Jeremy, remember? said Shelly. He was going to give us some advice.

Advice? screamed Roger. But he’s the alcoholic tramp! I saw him shouting at a lamppost on my way home last night!

You’ve gone very pale, said Shelly. You don’t look well at all.

Gah, said Roger, clutching his chest.

I think he might be having a heart attack, said the dogless man.

Ack, said Roger, dropping to one knee.

I’ll call emergency services, said Jeremy the luminous tramp, pulling a mobile phone from his jacket.

Fa, said Roger, lying down.

After the paramedics arrived, they all gave Roger words of encouragement as he was loaded into the back of the ambulance on a stretcher.

It’ll be all right Roger, said Steven.

You’re in good hands, said Shelly.

Don’t worry, said the dogless man. We’ll look after Rufus for you.

The emergency team closed the doors and a few seconds later the ambulance was off across the field towards the road, its sirens already blaring. The assembled group watched as it nosed its way through the traffic and out of sight.

Well, said the dogless man after they had watched Rufus run off after the ambulance. Anyone fancy a coffee?

I do, said Shelly.

Yes, said the others.

The sun was shining overhead, and in the sky birds flew from tree to tree, chirping happily, as the group walked towards the little café in the corner of the park. It was the café where the young mothers and nannies in the area met to drink coffee and talk about books they’d read and recipes they’d discovered and the schools they’d seen over the happy screams and shouts of the children who played at their feet or who babbled quietly to themselves in the prams by their sides.

Lovely, said the dogless man.
 

Andrew Lloyd-Jones was born in London, England and grew up in Anchorage, Alaska. He won the Fish Prize with his story “Feathers and Cigarettes”, and his writing has featured in The London Reader, Northern Colorado Writers’ Pooled Ink Anthology, Serving House Journal, and in the Canongate collection Original Sins, amongst others. Andrew produces and hosts Liars’ League NYC (www.liarsleaguenyc.com), a regular New York-based live literary journal and podcast, showcasing original short fiction from emerging writers.

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