Whom Dog Hath Joined by Neil S. Plakcy

Author:Neil S. Plakcy [Plakcy, Neil S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Neil S. Plakcy
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“That sounds great.” I relaxed back against the throw pillow, and we chatted for a few more minutes. After she hung up, I stared at the cell phone as the screen displayed the call ending, then returned to the list of frequently dialed numbers. It was a visual testimony to the way I had begun to reintegrate myself into the world at large, and Stewart’s Crossing in particular. Rick Stemper, Mark Figueroa, Gail Dukowski at The Chocolate Ear. A couple of folks at Eastern, including Joe Capodilupo. Tor, and Lili.

When I returned from prison and got the cell phone, the only number I had programmed in was Santiago Santos. I scrolled down to his name, and though I didn’t delete his number, I did remove him from my list of speed-dials.

That was progress, I thought.

21 – File Search

After breakfast the next morning, I loaded Rochester in the car and we drove up to Friar Lake. Joey Capodilupo had set up a meeting with a guy who was going to redo all the gutters and downspouts, and I walked around with the two of them. I knew that Joey would be there to keep an eye on things until his crew shut down at three-thirty. “I’m going to head down to the campus,” I said. “Call me if you need anything.”

I closed my office, and Rochester and I drove to Leighville. Though dogs technically weren’t allowed on the Eastern campus, nobody had ever complained about Rochester. He and I strolled through the grounds, trees turning color, students breaking out long-sleeve shirts, toting backpacks I assumed were full of books – though they could as easily have been carrying netbooks, laptops, tablets and other electronic gizmos. Rochester stopped beside a trash can and lifted his leg to pee, his nostrils quivering as he did so.

Old wooden picnic tables and benches clustered around the outside of the Cafette, an on-campus sandwich shop in a renovated carriage house. They were incised with initials of long-gone lovers and the wear of wind and rain. Lili joined us there, and Rochester tried to jump up on her, but she gave him a gentle push on his snout, then scratched behind his ears and told him he was a good boy.

“What about me?” I asked.

She reached up and patted me on the top of my head. “You’re a good boy, too,” she said, and laughed.

I looped Rochester’s leash around the leg of an Adirondack chair painted in Eastern’s colors of light blue and white and Lili and I went inside. The Cafette was a worn, homey-looking place, decorated with old college pennants and faded T-shirts. The multi-paned windows at the far end were open and a light breeze ruffled the pages of an Eastern Daily Sun, the college newspaper, open on one of the small tables that cluttered the front of the room. The kitchen took up most of the back of the room, with a fireplace along one wall. The first cold day, there would be a fire there, and students lounging on the overstuffed chairs around it.

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