Spiky-Haired Dog
By Yotama
The youth put a fist in Mr.Inoue's face.
'The cash!' he growled.
Th second and third youths stood behind Mr.Inoue; they said nothing. So the poor man had no choice. On the corner of his own street, only a hundred yards from the safety of his own home, he miserably fished in his own pocket. But while Mr.Inoue was delving for his wallet and loose change, a big dog, browny-redish in colour, came trotting round the corner.
'Help!' shouted Mr.Inoue, and he punched one youth in the stomach and elbowed another in the face. He should of course, done the opposite but he was no skilled fighter.
The big shaggy dog leaped into the scrum. He ripped the youths' clothes, he bit their calves and arms until they yelped and yelled and ran off. Mr.Inoue was left lying on the pavement, head under his arms.
The big messy dog gave him a friendly look and Mr.Inoue began to unfold and put himself together again. He looked at his cuts and bruises; he looked at the dog and shook his head.
'You saved me a packet,' he said, clasping a hand over the inner pocket of his jacket, 'I've got the week's takings in here. More than 170000 yen
'I know,' said the dog.
'Ahh!' exclaimed Mr.Inoue, and he gave the big shaggy dog another careful look. The dog bared its teeth in a kind of grin. Then Mr.Inoue noticed the dog's browny-redish fur was very spiky around its head, a bit like a lion's mane.
'Well!' said Mr.Inoue. 'I'd like to repay you for your kindness. You've saved me a fortune.'
'I've saved your life,' said the dog, sitting back comfortably on it's haunches.
'So I'm going to give you my most precious possession,' said Mr.Inoue.
'What's that?' asked the dog.
'How would you like the fish?' said Mr.Inoue. 'It can speak English and Chinese, Spanish and Bulgarian, Icelandic and…'
'I would not,' said the dog.
'What about the goose, then?' asked Mr.Inoue. 'Would you like the goose? It lays golden eggs.'
'I would not,' said the dog.
'Well then,' said Mr.Inoue slowly, 'I'll have to offer you the mirror…'
'The mirror?' said the dog.
'If you look into it,' said Mr.Inoue, 'you can see what people are thinking.'
'I've no need of that,' said the dog.
'What would you like then?' asked Mr.Inoue.
'Nothing like that,' replied the dog. 'I'll take your youngest daughter. I'll take her back to my house.'
'Miyako!' cried Mr.Inoue. 'Well! A man must keep his word. My most precious possession.'
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
'Me?' cried Miyako. 'Not likely!'
'He's not an ordinary dog,' said Mr.Inoue.
'You're as daft as a brush,' said Miyako.
'You'll see,' said her father. 'He's waiting outside the door.'
'Crazy!' said Miyako.
'Go on!' said Mr.Inoue.
'No way!' said Miyako.
'You'll have to go, Miyako-kun,' her father said. 'I want you to humor him. Take him for a walk.' Mr.Inoue smiled encouragingly. 'You'll be back in time for dinner.'
Then he bustled his half-laughing, half-fearful daughter into her coat and out the front door.
'Miyako-chan!' said the big shaggy dog. 'On m y back! I'm taking you back to my house.'
As soon as Miyako had mounted, the dog galloped off down the road, leaving Mr.Inoue staring after them. The dog galloped over the Common and down the gray November streets. He galloped until they were right out of the city. And at last, in the middle of a beech-wood on the brow of a hill, they came to the dog's house.
'Here we are!' said the spiky-haired dog. 'You'll like it here.'
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Miyako didn't like it at all. She didn't like the big spiky-haired dog. She didn't like leaving home. She didn't like the dog's wet and windy house.
The dog brought Miyako good things to eat; he promised to look after her; he sang her praises. But whatever he did seemed to make Miyako more miserable. And one night, when she had been at the dog's house for about a month, Miyako began to shake and sob in her sleep, and she woke up already weeping.
'What's wrong with you?' asked the dog.
'Let me go home!' sobbed Miyako. 'I want to go home.'
'I'll take you home,' said the big spiky-haired dog,' if you promise not to stay more than three days.'
'Three days!'
'That's it,' said the dog.
'You're a great, foul, spiky-haired dog,' said Miyako.
'All right,' said the dog. 'I won't take you home.'
But Miyako begged and wept and wailed and at last the dog relented.
'We'll be on our way at once,' he said. 'What did you say you called me?'
'You?' said Miyako as she flashed her crimson eyes. 'You're sweet-as-a-honeycomb.'
'On my back!' said the dog. 'I'll take you home.'
The dog, with Miyako on his back trotted along for mile after mile. They crossed major roads and minor roads and fields and streams. Then they came to a stile.
'Just remind me what you call me,' said the dog.
Miyako was thinking of her mother and father, her siblings and her room and her job and her friends.
'You're a great, foul, spiky-haired dog,' she said.
When he heard this, the dog turned his back on the stile. Deaf to all Miyako's cries and promises, he trotted straight back to the beech-wood on the brow of the hill.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Miyako had learned her lesson. And when, a week later, only just in time for Christmas, she once again persuaded the dog to take her home, she made up her mind to say nothing but loving things- the most loving things she could think of- until she was safely home.
'Sweet-as-a-honeycomb,' she said before they set off. And 'sweet-as-a-honeycomb' again at the stile. And in the dog's pricked ears for mile after mile; 'sugar…sweetie…honey…'
It was already dark as they rounded the corner were the big spiky-haired dog had rescued Mr.Inoue from the three youths. The dog quickened into a canter.
'This one,' cried Miyako, half-joyful at getting home at last and half-angry at the dog for having taken her away for so long. She dismounted and stepped up to the front door.
'Just remind me what you call me,' asked the big spiky-haired dog.
'You,' said Miyako, 'you're a great…'
But then she saw the mournful look in the dogs chocolate brown eyes. With her hand on the cold doorknob, Miyako thought of how, during the past weeks, the dog had always been warm and kind and patient with her, and put up with her tempers and tears. The word 'foul' stuck in her throat.
'Sweeter-than-a-honeycomb,' said Miyako, and she smiled.
The big spiky-haired dog stood up on his hind legs. He put his forelegs to the sides of his great shaggy head and pulled his head of. He pulled it off and tossed high in the air. Then he took off his hairy coat.
And there stood a young man, cool and smiling. And he had very messy, spiky hair, the browny-redish of the dogs.
'You can call me Daisuke if you want,' he said.
So when Miyako turned the cold doorknob and stepped into the house, the young man stepped in after her.
'Mum! Dad!' shouted Miyako.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
By the next year Inoue Miyako and Motomiya Daisuke were arranged to wed.
'Crazy!' said Miyako.
End
So what do you think? Yes I'm in a very fairy-tale-ish mood at the moment. I've got one more to go, this time it's a mimoe, it'll be up in a couple of days I think. Anyway, suggestions? Improvements? Constructive criticism? Review or email me if you want. Arigatou.
*I must change my addy *