This is my first Dead Zone fanfic. I hope you like it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, though Anthony Michael Hall would be a pleasure to own. Hehehe.
Hope you enjoy.
**= visions. My computer won't do italics, so asterisks will have to suffice.
Visions from Afar
"I'm on my way to get it now, Bruce," Johnny Smith told his best friend Bruce Lewis. "Don't worry, it won't lose its antique shine."
"It better not," Bruce threatened. "My dealer says it's worth a fortune."
"You should have let me talk you out of seeing him."
"You'll be sorry when I'm rolling in cash."
"You'll be sorry when I see the look on your face when he says it's worth nothing."
"You'll be sorry, Johnny-"
"I got to go," Johnny interrupted. "I'm pulling up now. Here's trouble."
"Why?" Bruce inquired.
"Sarah and Walt are in the drive-way," he reported. "They look like they're arguing."
"Poor Johnny," Bruce remarked. "Just get me my bowl."
Johnny placed his Jeep his park and put his cell phone down. Grabbing his cane, he exited the Jeep and started to limp to where Walt and Sarah Bannerman were apparently fighting. Johnny didn't look forward to walking into the midst of a firestorm, and he certainly didn't want to walk into one where Walt was concerned.
He and Walt had been on edgy terms ever since Johnny had revived Walt from his coma. He suspected Walt remembered everything that had happened in his mind, but he thought they were dreams. Johnny, however, knew better. He was the only one, but that didn't mean Sarah didn't share their secret, and now Walt did too. Johnny had had no choice but to tell Walt in that crucial moment, but now he just hoped that Walt wouldn't take it too hard if he decided his dreams were based in fact.
Neither one of the couple turned their head as Johnny steadily approached. He didn't want to intrude, but they seemed to be in the thick of a hasty argument. As he neared, he suddenly became aware of a shape sitting at Walt's feet. Around its neck was leather leash that tightly was gripped in Walt's hand. Johnny stopped dead when he realized what it was.
The German shepherd dog docilely turned its head, sniffing the air innocently. Johnny exhaled, still staring at the dog. The old fear was rising in him again and he tried to push it down. He had always had a fear of dogs. He could place the roots of his fear nowhere, but it always haunted him. Even the smallest of Yorkish terriers could be a menace and deadly. It was a misplaced fear, he knew, but he couldn't expel it from his system.
Suddenly the dog began to bark. Johnny gasped and jumped.
Both Walt and Sarah turned. Sarah's eyes were distressed and Walt's were angry, but they soon turned to dismay when Johnny came into view. Johnny tried to still his beating heart as he the dog started to growl at him and break away from its leash.
"Apollo," Walt said sharply. "Stay."
The dog quieted its leaps, but continued to stare at Johnny with an angry look.
"Hey Johnny," Sarah said, with a trace of warmth, but distress ringed her voice as well as her eyes.
"Hi John," Walt said tightly, but welcomingly. Over the past few months since Johnny had woken from his coma and set into motion the crazy situation they were currently in, he and Walt had come to respect each other, even like each other. They were friends, but hostile enemies as well. Johnny had learned that from his trespassing in Walt's memories. "What brings you here?"
Johnny sputtered in his throat and still watching the dog, managed to say faintly, "I came for the bowl."
"Oh, yes," Sarah immediately said. She shot a murderous look at Walt. "I'll go get it. Don't you bring that thing into my house, Walt, don't!"
"He's harmless!" Walt shouted behind her as she stormed into the house. "He's just a dog!"
Johnny stood by, not saying a word, still scrutinizing the dog.
Shaking his head, Walt turned to Johnny and said, "She's overreacting. It's just a dog."
Johnny cleared his throat. "So . . . what's with the dog?"
"Some lady got murdered," Walt explained with length. "She was found up in the woods about two days ago and we just found out who she was. We went up to her house and found this dog here." Walt placed a friendly hand on the dog's head and Johnny flinched inwardly. "He's really sweet and we're not taking him to the shelter. None of the others would take him, so I did." He whistled lowly. "I never thought she'd get this mad."
"Why?" Johnny questioned, backing up slowly.
"She doesn't want him around little Johnny," Walt said, rolling his eyes. "She's convinced it's a monster animal and we kill her son. Plus she says Johnny's got allergies, but the funny thing is, they've never crept up until now."
"How long do you have to keep the dog?"
"I'll keep him until we find an owner," Walt said. He glanced darkly at the house. "Or until Sarah kicks him out."
Johnny looked down at the dog, who was still stalking him with his eyes. Johnny coughed and moved back. He looked up to Walt to see his surprise.
"You're not afraid of him, are you?" he asked with some humor.
"No," Johnny stammered, swallowing. "Of course not. He's harmless."
Walt was looking at Johnny with an expression of laughter. Johnny felt heat rise in him.
"He's harmless," he repeated, and killing his fear, boldly reached out and touched the dog's head.
**Panting, he stared ahead into the rain. The heavy winds and rain blocked his keen nose from picking up any scents. Whimpering in confusion, he started to run down the muddy bank. Lightning creaked overhead and he yelped in surprise. The fur on his back started to stand up straight. Fear crept into him as he continued down the bank. The ground underneath his pads was becoming sore and his claws were chipping and scraping. Water leaked into his eyes and he furiously blinked it away, keeping his muzzle down.
Suddenly he caught a scent. Stopping, he rose on one leg and inhaled deeply. She was close . . . she was right there!
Barking, he emerged from the shadows to darkly see a man running forward and dragging her down. Barking, he sprang up and as another bolt of lightning illuminated the sky, he could see him viciously clawing at her. The water poured over him, but in his hand was a viciously sharp object and it was arching downward. She was screaming and desperately struggling to escape. Howling now, he leapt forward.****
"Down Apollo! Johnny, get back!"
Johnny frantically stepped back, then immediately felt a sense of vertigo as he realized he wasn't on all fours anymore. Dizzily, he moved back, trying to clear his eyes, as though water were still leaking into them. Murkily he could see the dog leaping at him, snapping, and Walt attempting to drag him down. Swaying, Johnny continued to blink.
"Whew, he sure doesn't like you Johnny!" Walt said, winded as he finally subdued the dog. "Bad Apollo, bad dog!"
"See!"
Sarah was running down the drive way, carrying the crystal bowl. Her face was furrowed in anger. "He almost killed Johnny!"
"He did not!" Walt yelled back, gripping the dog's leash tightly as he looked at Johnny. "You okay, John?"
"I'm fine," Johnny said shakily. "That's a big dog."
"Johnny, are you okay?" Sarah asked as soon as she reached them, her eyes throwing daggers at Walt. Before Johnny could answer, she continued, "No, you're not. Walt, if he almost attacked Johnny, I don't want him near my son. I don't want a large animal with large fangs anywhere near him!"
"Sarah, please, he's a good dog-"
"Then why'd he attack Johnny?" Sarah said pointedly.
Walt gaped, and then looked at Johnny wordlessly. Swallowing, his heart calming down, Johnny stared at the dog. What had happened? He had touched the dog and . . . it was a vision. He had been the dog. Johnny could barely contemplate it. A dog?
Oh, this was too much. A dog? He had become a dog? He drafted his gaze toward Sarah and Walt, who were now starting to argue again. This was too strange.
"Walt, please, listen-"
"He's harmless!"
"He attacked Johnny!"
"Johnny made a big move!"
"Little Johnny will too! If an adult can startle a dog, look at a kid!"
"He's only a dog!"
"With fangs!"
"Listen-"
"He isn't staying in my house-"
"I can take him!"
Both Walt and Sarah became silent as they looked at Johnny. He swallowed. Where had that come from?
"I can take care of him," he repeated, gazing down at Apollo.
"But you don't like dogs," Sarah said, confused. Walt looked darkly at Sarah, as if wondering how she would know such an intimate fact.
"I like dogs now," Johnny hissed, looking at Sarah meaningfully.
"I don't know, Johnny," Walt said, perplexed. "He's a strong animal and he just jumped at you. I mean, your leg . . ." he looked pointedly at Johnny's cane.
"I'm fine," Johnny protested. "Besides, it's only going to be for a few days, right?"
"We think," Walt said, still floored. "But we're not sure."
"It can't be that hard," Johnny said.
"He's a big dog," Walt still pertained. Suddenly he became aware of Sarah's pleading eyes that covered the daggers. He sighed. "If you're sure . . ."
"I'm positive," Johnny insisted, again choking back his fear of the monstrous dog gazing at him.
"Well then," Walt said, looking at Sarah angrily. Sarah only seemed satisfied and pleased. "I guess I should thank you." Johnny waited for an apology, but all he saw were fuming blades at Sarah. "I'll drive him over to your house because I have his things. Can we take your Jeep?"
"Sure," Johnny said weakly as he saw the dog stand to all fours. "Let's get moving."
"Great," Sarah said enthusiastically. "I'll get dinner started. Thanks, Johnny. I'm sure this . . . harmless dog," and she spit the word out, "will give you no trouble." Smirking at Walt, she smiled at Johnny, and handed him the bowl. "Tell Bruce I said thanks. It was quite the centerpiece at my party."
"I'll pass the word," Johnny promised, wedging the bowl in between his arm and side. "Put the dog in the back, Walt. Just pile everything in there." Walt nodded and yanked on the leash. He and the dog went over to his cruiser, which was parked a few feet away. Johnny watched them both sickly.
Sarah coughed, then smiled at Johnny again. "I know you don't like dogs. Don't you remember when we were kids? Your dad's Lab?"
"Elvis?" Johnny asked, his face turning into displeasure at the memory. "How can I not? The dog almost ripped my foot off."
"Yeah," Sarah laughed. "Your dad threatened to sue the doctors if they didn't save your foot."
"And he kept the dog after that," Johnny said, shaking his head. "He yelled at me for provoking his baby. I hated that dog."
"Just don't tease this one," Sarah said, winking.
"I did not tease that dog!" Johnny objected. "I was trying to feed it."
"Watch your kibble, Johnny," Sarah told him, starting up the drive-way. "Don't let him attack you."
"Sure thing," Johnny said sourly. "I'm really going to be able to stop him."
"You coming, John?" Walt's voice took him from Sarah. Winking at his one-time fiancée, Johnny went to his Jeep and opened the back, after quickly put the crystal bowl carefully in the front of the Jeep. Turning back towards Walt, he moved out of the way as he and the dog approached. Walt was hefting a large pet carrier in one hand, his whitened knuckles on the leash in the other. Johnny took a deep breath and went forward.
Apollo's eyes followed him as a laser on a target would.
"Walt," Johnny said. "Give me the carrier."
"Not to worry," Walt said, reaching the Jeep and heaving the carrier in the back. "We're already here. Don't worry." His voice was tight, and he wondered if Walt had wondered about the brief conversation that had transpired between Johnny and Sarah a few seconds earlier. Walt had grown a bit more suspicious lately, thought Johnny as Walt started to coax the dog up into the cage. He's suspecting something, and he's got good reason to.
Johnny almost burned with shame every time he thought about the night he had had with Sarah. He had not told anyone about it, not even Bruce. He had told Walt in the coma, but did Walt remember that? That night had been a complete and utter accident.
Sure, he suddenly thought in blazing shame, I just happened to grab her arm and pull her back, and then we just happened to sleep with each other. Yes, a complete and utter accident.
Johnny watched nauseously as the dog, in one smooth, flexing leap, was up into the cage.
"Good job," Walt praised, roughing the dog's head. "Good Apollo." He shut the cage door and latched the lock. Johnny watched closely to make sure it was latched correctly and lashed tightly. Apollo gazed at Johnny with intelligent, glittering eyes. Johnny shivered involuntarily. Did the dog know that Johnny had invaded its memories?
"I'll get his food and things," Walt said to Johnny, already heading back to his car, forgetting to slam the back closed. Hesitating, Johnny again looked at the dog. He was still staring stonily. Raising his head, grasping his cane loosely in his hand, he quickly slammed the back closed.
Apollo's barks were loud and furious, and Johnny fell back, his heart hammering in his heart.
"Be careful," Walt's voice scolded crossly as he came back, dragging thirty pound bag of food and a box. He caught sight of Johnny's pale face. "This may not be such a good idea," he whistled, wresting the bag of food over the side of the Jeep. "You look like he spooked you."
"Calm down, Walt," Johnny retorted, his heart calming, but now he became agitated. "I'm fine. Let's go."
Walt didn't reply, and Johnny limped to the driver's seat and easily hopped in, resting his cane within easy reach. He put the key in the ignition and waited impatiently for Walt to come in. Turning around, he saw painstakingly arranging the food and dog carrier in the back. Exasperatedly, Johnny took out his cell phone and dialed.
"Bruce?" he asked.
"Johnny?" Bruce said, his voice alert. "You've got my bowl, I'm taken?"
"No," Johnny replied. "It's shattered in a million pieces and the pieces are sticking me in the leg, they've my leg up, and I'm in the hospital, waiting for surgery, and they say I need a physical therapist again for a year."
"Ha ha," Bruce answered dryly. Then he turned frantic. "You're not telling the truth, are you?"
"Yes, I am. Except instead of a year of physical therapist, they want me to go for three, and they want me to pay you very badly because of your quality of work lately."
"JOHNNY!"
"Jeez, calm down, it's not like it's worth anything," Johnny said, chuckling. "It's quite fine. Do you want to speak to it?"
"You jerk," Bruce was repeating over and over. "You pathetic jerk!"
"Yeah, yeah," Johnny said, laughing as Walt swung in suddenly. "Listen, meet me at my place."
"You jerk," Bruce said.
"I'll give it to you then, and it will be intact."
"You jerk," Bruce told him.
"I promise. And I need your help with something else. And after that you get your bowl back."
"You pathetic jerk," Bruce alleged.
"See you."
"YOU JERK!"
Johnny snapped the phone shut and put it back in his pocket. He saw Walt looking at him quizzically, and he said apologetically, "Uh, the bowl is Bruce's. He thinks it's worth something."
"Oh," Walt said, as if not caring.
Sighing, Johnny pushed the key back in the ignition and pressed on the gas hard. He hoped that the monster in the back felt it.
Disclaimer: I own nothing, though Anthony Michael Hall would be a pleasure to own. Hehehe.
Hope you enjoy.
**= visions. My computer won't do italics, so asterisks will have to suffice.
Visions from Afar
"I'm on my way to get it now, Bruce," Johnny Smith told his best friend Bruce Lewis. "Don't worry, it won't lose its antique shine."
"It better not," Bruce threatened. "My dealer says it's worth a fortune."
"You should have let me talk you out of seeing him."
"You'll be sorry when I'm rolling in cash."
"You'll be sorry when I see the look on your face when he says it's worth nothing."
"You'll be sorry, Johnny-"
"I got to go," Johnny interrupted. "I'm pulling up now. Here's trouble."
"Why?" Bruce inquired.
"Sarah and Walt are in the drive-way," he reported. "They look like they're arguing."
"Poor Johnny," Bruce remarked. "Just get me my bowl."
Johnny placed his Jeep his park and put his cell phone down. Grabbing his cane, he exited the Jeep and started to limp to where Walt and Sarah Bannerman were apparently fighting. Johnny didn't look forward to walking into the midst of a firestorm, and he certainly didn't want to walk into one where Walt was concerned.
He and Walt had been on edgy terms ever since Johnny had revived Walt from his coma. He suspected Walt remembered everything that had happened in his mind, but he thought they were dreams. Johnny, however, knew better. He was the only one, but that didn't mean Sarah didn't share their secret, and now Walt did too. Johnny had had no choice but to tell Walt in that crucial moment, but now he just hoped that Walt wouldn't take it too hard if he decided his dreams were based in fact.
Neither one of the couple turned their head as Johnny steadily approached. He didn't want to intrude, but they seemed to be in the thick of a hasty argument. As he neared, he suddenly became aware of a shape sitting at Walt's feet. Around its neck was leather leash that tightly was gripped in Walt's hand. Johnny stopped dead when he realized what it was.
The German shepherd dog docilely turned its head, sniffing the air innocently. Johnny exhaled, still staring at the dog. The old fear was rising in him again and he tried to push it down. He had always had a fear of dogs. He could place the roots of his fear nowhere, but it always haunted him. Even the smallest of Yorkish terriers could be a menace and deadly. It was a misplaced fear, he knew, but he couldn't expel it from his system.
Suddenly the dog began to bark. Johnny gasped and jumped.
Both Walt and Sarah turned. Sarah's eyes were distressed and Walt's were angry, but they soon turned to dismay when Johnny came into view. Johnny tried to still his beating heart as he the dog started to growl at him and break away from its leash.
"Apollo," Walt said sharply. "Stay."
The dog quieted its leaps, but continued to stare at Johnny with an angry look.
"Hey Johnny," Sarah said, with a trace of warmth, but distress ringed her voice as well as her eyes.
"Hi John," Walt said tightly, but welcomingly. Over the past few months since Johnny had woken from his coma and set into motion the crazy situation they were currently in, he and Walt had come to respect each other, even like each other. They were friends, but hostile enemies as well. Johnny had learned that from his trespassing in Walt's memories. "What brings you here?"
Johnny sputtered in his throat and still watching the dog, managed to say faintly, "I came for the bowl."
"Oh, yes," Sarah immediately said. She shot a murderous look at Walt. "I'll go get it. Don't you bring that thing into my house, Walt, don't!"
"He's harmless!" Walt shouted behind her as she stormed into the house. "He's just a dog!"
Johnny stood by, not saying a word, still scrutinizing the dog.
Shaking his head, Walt turned to Johnny and said, "She's overreacting. It's just a dog."
Johnny cleared his throat. "So . . . what's with the dog?"
"Some lady got murdered," Walt explained with length. "She was found up in the woods about two days ago and we just found out who she was. We went up to her house and found this dog here." Walt placed a friendly hand on the dog's head and Johnny flinched inwardly. "He's really sweet and we're not taking him to the shelter. None of the others would take him, so I did." He whistled lowly. "I never thought she'd get this mad."
"Why?" Johnny questioned, backing up slowly.
"She doesn't want him around little Johnny," Walt said, rolling his eyes. "She's convinced it's a monster animal and we kill her son. Plus she says Johnny's got allergies, but the funny thing is, they've never crept up until now."
"How long do you have to keep the dog?"
"I'll keep him until we find an owner," Walt said. He glanced darkly at the house. "Or until Sarah kicks him out."
Johnny looked down at the dog, who was still stalking him with his eyes. Johnny coughed and moved back. He looked up to Walt to see his surprise.
"You're not afraid of him, are you?" he asked with some humor.
"No," Johnny stammered, swallowing. "Of course not. He's harmless."
Walt was looking at Johnny with an expression of laughter. Johnny felt heat rise in him.
"He's harmless," he repeated, and killing his fear, boldly reached out and touched the dog's head.
**Panting, he stared ahead into the rain. The heavy winds and rain blocked his keen nose from picking up any scents. Whimpering in confusion, he started to run down the muddy bank. Lightning creaked overhead and he yelped in surprise. The fur on his back started to stand up straight. Fear crept into him as he continued down the bank. The ground underneath his pads was becoming sore and his claws were chipping and scraping. Water leaked into his eyes and he furiously blinked it away, keeping his muzzle down.
Suddenly he caught a scent. Stopping, he rose on one leg and inhaled deeply. She was close . . . she was right there!
Barking, he emerged from the shadows to darkly see a man running forward and dragging her down. Barking, he sprang up and as another bolt of lightning illuminated the sky, he could see him viciously clawing at her. The water poured over him, but in his hand was a viciously sharp object and it was arching downward. She was screaming and desperately struggling to escape. Howling now, he leapt forward.****
"Down Apollo! Johnny, get back!"
Johnny frantically stepped back, then immediately felt a sense of vertigo as he realized he wasn't on all fours anymore. Dizzily, he moved back, trying to clear his eyes, as though water were still leaking into them. Murkily he could see the dog leaping at him, snapping, and Walt attempting to drag him down. Swaying, Johnny continued to blink.
"Whew, he sure doesn't like you Johnny!" Walt said, winded as he finally subdued the dog. "Bad Apollo, bad dog!"
"See!"
Sarah was running down the drive way, carrying the crystal bowl. Her face was furrowed in anger. "He almost killed Johnny!"
"He did not!" Walt yelled back, gripping the dog's leash tightly as he looked at Johnny. "You okay, John?"
"I'm fine," Johnny said shakily. "That's a big dog."
"Johnny, are you okay?" Sarah asked as soon as she reached them, her eyes throwing daggers at Walt. Before Johnny could answer, she continued, "No, you're not. Walt, if he almost attacked Johnny, I don't want him near my son. I don't want a large animal with large fangs anywhere near him!"
"Sarah, please, he's a good dog-"
"Then why'd he attack Johnny?" Sarah said pointedly.
Walt gaped, and then looked at Johnny wordlessly. Swallowing, his heart calming down, Johnny stared at the dog. What had happened? He had touched the dog and . . . it was a vision. He had been the dog. Johnny could barely contemplate it. A dog?
Oh, this was too much. A dog? He had become a dog? He drafted his gaze toward Sarah and Walt, who were now starting to argue again. This was too strange.
"Walt, please, listen-"
"He's harmless!"
"He attacked Johnny!"
"Johnny made a big move!"
"Little Johnny will too! If an adult can startle a dog, look at a kid!"
"He's only a dog!"
"With fangs!"
"Listen-"
"He isn't staying in my house-"
"I can take him!"
Both Walt and Sarah became silent as they looked at Johnny. He swallowed. Where had that come from?
"I can take care of him," he repeated, gazing down at Apollo.
"But you don't like dogs," Sarah said, confused. Walt looked darkly at Sarah, as if wondering how she would know such an intimate fact.
"I like dogs now," Johnny hissed, looking at Sarah meaningfully.
"I don't know, Johnny," Walt said, perplexed. "He's a strong animal and he just jumped at you. I mean, your leg . . ." he looked pointedly at Johnny's cane.
"I'm fine," Johnny protested. "Besides, it's only going to be for a few days, right?"
"We think," Walt said, still floored. "But we're not sure."
"It can't be that hard," Johnny said.
"He's a big dog," Walt still pertained. Suddenly he became aware of Sarah's pleading eyes that covered the daggers. He sighed. "If you're sure . . ."
"I'm positive," Johnny insisted, again choking back his fear of the monstrous dog gazing at him.
"Well then," Walt said, looking at Sarah angrily. Sarah only seemed satisfied and pleased. "I guess I should thank you." Johnny waited for an apology, but all he saw were fuming blades at Sarah. "I'll drive him over to your house because I have his things. Can we take your Jeep?"
"Sure," Johnny said weakly as he saw the dog stand to all fours. "Let's get moving."
"Great," Sarah said enthusiastically. "I'll get dinner started. Thanks, Johnny. I'm sure this . . . harmless dog," and she spit the word out, "will give you no trouble." Smirking at Walt, she smiled at Johnny, and handed him the bowl. "Tell Bruce I said thanks. It was quite the centerpiece at my party."
"I'll pass the word," Johnny promised, wedging the bowl in between his arm and side. "Put the dog in the back, Walt. Just pile everything in there." Walt nodded and yanked on the leash. He and the dog went over to his cruiser, which was parked a few feet away. Johnny watched them both sickly.
Sarah coughed, then smiled at Johnny again. "I know you don't like dogs. Don't you remember when we were kids? Your dad's Lab?"
"Elvis?" Johnny asked, his face turning into displeasure at the memory. "How can I not? The dog almost ripped my foot off."
"Yeah," Sarah laughed. "Your dad threatened to sue the doctors if they didn't save your foot."
"And he kept the dog after that," Johnny said, shaking his head. "He yelled at me for provoking his baby. I hated that dog."
"Just don't tease this one," Sarah said, winking.
"I did not tease that dog!" Johnny objected. "I was trying to feed it."
"Watch your kibble, Johnny," Sarah told him, starting up the drive-way. "Don't let him attack you."
"Sure thing," Johnny said sourly. "I'm really going to be able to stop him."
"You coming, John?" Walt's voice took him from Sarah. Winking at his one-time fiancée, Johnny went to his Jeep and opened the back, after quickly put the crystal bowl carefully in the front of the Jeep. Turning back towards Walt, he moved out of the way as he and the dog approached. Walt was hefting a large pet carrier in one hand, his whitened knuckles on the leash in the other. Johnny took a deep breath and went forward.
Apollo's eyes followed him as a laser on a target would.
"Walt," Johnny said. "Give me the carrier."
"Not to worry," Walt said, reaching the Jeep and heaving the carrier in the back. "We're already here. Don't worry." His voice was tight, and he wondered if Walt had wondered about the brief conversation that had transpired between Johnny and Sarah a few seconds earlier. Walt had grown a bit more suspicious lately, thought Johnny as Walt started to coax the dog up into the cage. He's suspecting something, and he's got good reason to.
Johnny almost burned with shame every time he thought about the night he had had with Sarah. He had not told anyone about it, not even Bruce. He had told Walt in the coma, but did Walt remember that? That night had been a complete and utter accident.
Sure, he suddenly thought in blazing shame, I just happened to grab her arm and pull her back, and then we just happened to sleep with each other. Yes, a complete and utter accident.
Johnny watched nauseously as the dog, in one smooth, flexing leap, was up into the cage.
"Good job," Walt praised, roughing the dog's head. "Good Apollo." He shut the cage door and latched the lock. Johnny watched closely to make sure it was latched correctly and lashed tightly. Apollo gazed at Johnny with intelligent, glittering eyes. Johnny shivered involuntarily. Did the dog know that Johnny had invaded its memories?
"I'll get his food and things," Walt said to Johnny, already heading back to his car, forgetting to slam the back closed. Hesitating, Johnny again looked at the dog. He was still staring stonily. Raising his head, grasping his cane loosely in his hand, he quickly slammed the back closed.
Apollo's barks were loud and furious, and Johnny fell back, his heart hammering in his heart.
"Be careful," Walt's voice scolded crossly as he came back, dragging thirty pound bag of food and a box. He caught sight of Johnny's pale face. "This may not be such a good idea," he whistled, wresting the bag of food over the side of the Jeep. "You look like he spooked you."
"Calm down, Walt," Johnny retorted, his heart calming, but now he became agitated. "I'm fine. Let's go."
Walt didn't reply, and Johnny limped to the driver's seat and easily hopped in, resting his cane within easy reach. He put the key in the ignition and waited impatiently for Walt to come in. Turning around, he saw painstakingly arranging the food and dog carrier in the back. Exasperatedly, Johnny took out his cell phone and dialed.
"Bruce?" he asked.
"Johnny?" Bruce said, his voice alert. "You've got my bowl, I'm taken?"
"No," Johnny replied. "It's shattered in a million pieces and the pieces are sticking me in the leg, they've my leg up, and I'm in the hospital, waiting for surgery, and they say I need a physical therapist again for a year."
"Ha ha," Bruce answered dryly. Then he turned frantic. "You're not telling the truth, are you?"
"Yes, I am. Except instead of a year of physical therapist, they want me to go for three, and they want me to pay you very badly because of your quality of work lately."
"JOHNNY!"
"Jeez, calm down, it's not like it's worth anything," Johnny said, chuckling. "It's quite fine. Do you want to speak to it?"
"You jerk," Bruce was repeating over and over. "You pathetic jerk!"
"Yeah, yeah," Johnny said, laughing as Walt swung in suddenly. "Listen, meet me at my place."
"You jerk," Bruce said.
"I'll give it to you then, and it will be intact."
"You jerk," Bruce told him.
"I promise. And I need your help with something else. And after that you get your bowl back."
"You pathetic jerk," Bruce alleged.
"See you."
"YOU JERK!"
Johnny snapped the phone shut and put it back in his pocket. He saw Walt looking at him quizzically, and he said apologetically, "Uh, the bowl is Bruce's. He thinks it's worth something."
"Oh," Walt said, as if not caring.
Sighing, Johnny pushed the key back in the ignition and pressed on the gas hard. He hoped that the monster in the back felt it.