some peace and quiet. I don’t like people ruining my serene lifestyle with surprise visits and mangy mutts and smelling the place up with Liz Taylor and such. Oh, well. Corene would be all right. She always was.
A commercial was on, so I headed to the kitchen. Some coffee and a piece of pie would hit the spot. When I went through the hallway, I noticed Corene had shut the bathroom door but left the light on inside. Sometimes I wonder if that girl has got a brain in her head. I opened the door, reached in and cut the switch off without really looking in, and went on toward the kitchen.
I took two steps and stopped dead in my tracks before putting my rear suspension in reverse. I cut the light back on. And stared at the floor. Two beady black eyes stared back.
“Why, you dirty dog, you.”
The mutt whimpered.
“Not you. That no-account sister of mine. Oooh, when I get my hands on her…”
Rowdy looked a lot smaller out of the carrier. He was about as big as a rat. He tippy-toed on the bathroom tile. His whole little body shimmied across the floor toward me. I couldn’t tell if he was scared to death or doing the Hully Gully.
“If I was you,” I said, “I’d be tickled pink to be shed of Corene.”
He whimpered again. His eyes went all wet and gooey.
“Oh, for goodness sake, don’t you start with that mushy stuff. What in the world am I going to do with you?”
He inched closer, put his front paws up on my legs. His silly tail wagged and all that long hair on it waved back and forth like a hairy flag on a stick.
“If you’re going to touch me, you’ve got to have a bath first. And son, I’ve got to be honest with you. That hairdo has got to go.”
I did the best I could. I wore my Playtex cleaning gloves that go up to the elbows. All I had was regular shampoo, so I used it on Rowdy and hoped for the best. He did look cleaner. He even looked grateful. He wouldn’t have felt that way if he could’ve seen his hair. It was a sight. I brushed it and tried to get the knots out. If he stayed long, I’d have to get some crème rinse for the tangles.
Outside, the heat was a killer. You can’t imagine the humidity unless you’ve lived in a place like Tullulah where there are more trees than are good for a person. They make it sticky around here. I’d had all the miserable summer weather I wanted and was good and ready for a break. Shoot, it was already October and close to Halloween, and high time for some cool air.
The storm on the way made it even hotter. On the news, they said a few tornados touched down in Mississippi. The scary yellow line on the weatherman’s screen was headed this way.
I knew they were coming, even before I turned on the TV. The sky had that weird green look and hard gusts of wind blew stuff all over the streets. When I went outside, it was hard to breathe. The coming storm was already sucking the air out of the air, if you know what I mean.
You might wonder what in the world a grown, intelligent woman like me was doing out in the yard anyway when there’s fixing to be a tornado. Yeah, that’s right, I was out there so that orphan rug rat could do his business. Let me tell you, he took his sweet time about it. He had to go sniff everything out there first, even with the wind whipping his ears and long red and white hair all over the place. Picky, that’s what he is, and wasn’t worried a bit that I might get swooped up in the sky or struck by lightning.
“Look here, Rowdy. Get down to it or the next thing you know, you might be pooping in Kansas with Toto.”
He seemed to get my gist. I turned toward the door, acting like I didn’t care if he followed me our not. By the time I got the screen door open, there he was coming up the steps.
“After you,” I said. He swept by me like the king of England and went straight to the bowl of water I’d set out. “Hey. Watch it. Don’t you drink too much of that, you hear?”
Seven
Jane Braves the Storm
L arge raindrops
Learning to Kill: Stories