Gideon's Rescue by Alan Russell

Author:Alan Russell [Russell, Alan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Three Tails Press
Published: 2018-07-16T16:00:00+00:00

I made my way over to Boyle Heights and parked on the street in a spot that allowed me to look into the lot that advertised Best $crap and Junkyard Dog Services. For almost an hour I studied what was going on inside of Tito’s businesses. The dogs were securely chained around the property. When the chains were pulled out to their maximum length, no more than eighteen inches separated one dog from another. Their proximity to each other seemed to stoke their animosity.

The recycling business was busy with a constant flow of customers. Most came into the lot by truck or car, but a few homeless people pushed in shopping carts mainly filled with crushed aluminum cans. Both Tito and his one-eyed assistant, Fausto, could be seen inside and outside of their trailer. A third employee, a middle-aged Hispanic man, stayed mostly in the back, working the heavy equipment. On those occasions that required his presence in the trailer, the man took care to travel along a specific path that kept him clear of all the chained dogs.

Finally, I decided I’d seen enough and drove into the recycling center and parked. Sirius’s window was open, and the other dogs must have caught his scent. They rose en masse and began barking. As much as they didn’t like each other, they became united in their animosity toward the newcomer.

Tito started in as soon as I stepped into the trailer. He pulled out a very thick billfold, plucked out a Hamilton, and extended it my way.

“I figured you’d reconsider about your dog,” he said, flashing me that fake smile of his.

“I thought we’d agreed on twenty,” I said. “Is bait and switch how you operate your business?”

“Got an A rating from the BBB,” Tito said, giving me another dose of his pearly whites.

“Best Crap got an A rating?” I said. “That surprises me. I would have guessed the BBB wouldn’t want anything to do with a business named Best Crap.”

“Best Scrap,” said Tito.

“My mistake,” I said. “I mean, the word best is easy enough to make out on your sign, but then you’ve got the dollar sign in front of crap. I guess lots of people have made that mistake before.”

“No one else has been that stupid,” said Tito. “Isn’t that right, Fausto?”

The small, quiet man with the eye patch nodded. One eye was enough to give me a look that could kill.

“So you don’t buy crap,” I said. “You buy scrap.”

“I am glad you finally understood that.”

“As it so happens,” I said, “I have some copper piping in my car. Do you buy copper?”

“Cash on the barrel,” said Tito.

“Let me get it, then.”

I went out to the car and came back with an armful of copper pipes, which I laid on the counter.

“Where did you get the copper?” Tito asked.

“From a plumbing project I did at my house,” I said.

“Lots of copper gets stolen from construction sites and remodels,” said Tito. “How do I know you didn’t steal this stuff?”

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.

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