This Akita Evita
Angel Dumott Shunard felt the rhythm move through his body. Like a slithering snake it wound it's way up from the drumsticks, to his hands, and through the rest of his lean Hispanic figure.
He was playing a beat he had taught himself. It was always a big hit with passersby. He had already earned $11, which was great after playing for only half an hour. He was also out of drag. Only rarely did he play out of drag. He stopped playing and looked around the street. It was a sunny Christmas Eve. It was going to be a good day.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Tabitha Yearing was awoken at 6:00 A.M. to the sounds of her neighbor's yappy Akita dog. She let out a small moan. She was used to being roused at this hour. But it was CHRISTMAS.
She rolled out and walked out into her wealthy Italian-style condo. The dog was still yapping annoyingly. That was it. She couldn't take it anymore.
Tabitha picked up the phone and pressed 5. "Hans? Pull the limo around sweetie. We're going out."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was almost lunchtime, and Angel was very hungry. He headed in the direction of one of his favorite restaurants. On the way, he passed a flier pinned to an apartment door. It was advertising a protest that was being held in the 11th street lot tonight. I should go to that, he thought.
After a lunch of seaweed salad and fries, he returned to Avenue A to play some more.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Turn here, Hans. This is where he usually plays."
Tabitha had noticed Angel when she first saw him playing. She had seen many street musicians in her forty-five years, but never a drag queen. And never one that played so well.
She had had the idea in her head for over a month. Now it was time she followed through. "That's him! Right there, pull over!"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Angel stopped playing and looked up. It was not every day that you see a stretch limousine in this part of town.
It pulled to a stop, so that the back of the limo was in front of him. He got excited as the window rolled down and a lady's head poked out.
Jackpot, thought Angel.
"Hello, sir. I want to ask a favor of you. Please come in." She opened the door.
He jumped up, picked up his pickle tub and sticks, and hopped in.
Angel had never been in a limousine before. He had never had the opportunity. It was beautiful and big, leather seats and a built in TV.
He shook hands with the woman. "My name is Tabitha Yearing."
"I'm Angel," he said.
"Very well Angel. I need your help. I haven't slept in a year. I need you to make my neighbor's yappy dog disappear. This Akita, Evita, just won't shut up. I believe if you play non-stop that pup will breath it's very last high-strung breath. I'm certain that cur will bark itself to death."
Angel was intrigued. He hadn't expected this. He played it cool. "What's in it for me?"
"I will give you $1000."
Angel gasped. That was a huge some of money. More than he ever made in a single week, playing drums and making clothes.
"I'll do it."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After they arrived, Angel set up his drums down in the courtyard of the condominium. "Okay," said Tabitha, "hit it."
Angel tapped a couple of times, and broke into a beat, saying the counts under his breath. It was fast and loud and very annoying. He never played this one on the street, because no one liked it except him.
He heard the dog barking upstairs, high-pitched and yappy. "Damn you Evita," she said maliciously. "You will pay."
As Angel continued to play, the dog barked louder and louder.
"One-two-three-four, one-two-three-four," he muttered. Finally, after an hour, Evita the Akita appeared on the window ledge of the twenty-three story condominium.
"There!" she yelled. "There's that goddamn dog! Oh, this is better than I expected! I think she's going to jump!"
Angel stopped playing and looked up. The dog gave one last yelp, and leapt off of the window ledge towards him. The dog flipped in midair, and hurtled towards the earth pathetically…
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Angel, I cannot thank you enough."
They were back in her condo, celebrating with glasses of sparkling Christmas champagne.
"Oh, it's no trouble. I'm happy to help."
She smiled. Angel looked over to her Christmas tree, which was bare and scraggly. "Oh, honey that's not you're Christmas tree is it?"
She looked over to it, sipping her drink. "Yeah, why?"
"It's awful."
"Well, I'll tell you what. If you trim my tree, I'll throw in an extra $50," she said, pulling out her billfold. "And you can keep the trimmings."
"Done," said Angel. "Where do you keep your shears?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Once he had finished, Angel collected his cash, kissed Tabitha goodbye, and left. He hailed a cab back to Alphabet City and set his drums up near an alley by a phone booth. He carried a bag of the branches from the lady's tree. He took them out, and within half an hour had constructed a small tree. He started playing well into the evening, and left for awhile to get a bite to eat. When he came back he set up his drums and continued to play near his tree. This had been a great day. There was almost no way it could get any better.
Just then, Angel heard moaning coming from the alley he was playing next to…
AN: The End! Hope you liked it. I just wanted to express what most likely took place when that happened. Reviews! Lots and lots of reviews!