A Hole in the Universe - Mary McGarry Morris [153]
She was cutting through backyards when she heard barking. “Hey, c’mere, boy,” she called softly. The black-and-white puppy ran toward the fence, wiggling all over, the way Leonardo used to. His little snout stuck out through the chain link. She touched the wet pink nose and laughed. “What’s your name, pretty boy?” She hurried to the gate with the dog squealing and yipping alongside the fence, his stubby tail wagging. “Yipper, huh? That’s a good name, you little yipper.” The puppy jumped against the fence and squealed even more. “Shh. Shh. What’s the matter? You don’t like it in there, do you. Jesus Christ, I don’t blame you.”
The rusty gate creaked as she forced it open. A tattered trampoline took up most of the tiny yard, leaving little room for the puppy to roam. A scum of leaf bits and dead midges floated in his water bowl. “Wanna come with me? Wanna go for a walk? Yeah, you need some exercise.” The minute she touched his warm, fuzzy head, the puppy grew quiet and she knew how desperate he was for love. Nobody was ever out here with him. He was always tied up. They probably only came out to give him a kick when he barked. “Good boy, that’s a good boy, now,” she whispered as she untied the rope from the red leash. “Here we go!” she cried, snatching him up and running as fast as she could, four, five, six blocks. Three more and she’d be home. Safe. She put him down on the sidewalk and pulled on the leash, expecting him to strain back the way Leonardo used to. Instead, he trotted alongside. His jaunty bounce made her laugh.
When Gordon finished priming the scraped clapboards, he washed his brush and then went back out to spray the roses. All his care was finally paying off. There were only a few black spots on the leaves, and each bush had new blooms. He cut off three full-flowering stems. They were for Lisa. Her dinner was tonight, and he was dreading it. He wished he could call Delores and ask her to go with him. It seemed so strange that just when he realized how much he needed her in his life, she had to step away. A plastic grocery bag and newspaper pages had blown up against Mrs. Jukas’s steps, but there was nothing he could do.
“Hey, look at my new dog,” Jada called, crossing the street. The puppy wiggled toward him. “Sit down! Sit!” she said, and he did. “Good boy!” she said, and the puppy leaped at Gordon. “Sit!” she ordered, and once again he obeyed, however reluctantly.
Gordon laughed. He knelt down and petted his back. The puppy sprang, jumping and squealing. She told him to sit again, but Gordon said it was all right, that he was a very nice puppy. “A very good little puppy,” he said now as he rubbed his head. “What’s his name?”
“Yipper.”
“How long have you had him?”
“Not too long.”
“He’s pretty well-trained.”
“Yeah, well, we been working on it, haven’t we, Yipper?” She knelt down, too, and stroked her hand along his back to the tip of his tail. “I told him, You gotta have manners. You can’t be jumping and barking and pissing on people all the time.”
“Well,” he said, standing up. She did, too. “I’d better get my things put away here.”
“Yeah, I been watching you. You been working out here a lot, huh? How come?” she asked as he reached down for his spray bottle. She picked up his pruner and handed it to him. With the puppy happily alongside, she followed him toward the garage. “You gonna sell it? That’s what my uncle Bob used to say, ‘Time to fix’er up and sell.’ He does that every place he lives to get a better house, and now you should see his house, the one he lives in now. It’s like this wicked nice place with marble floors and all kinds of beautiful paintings,” she called into the hot, musty garage as he hung the pruner on its nail. Her ragged, run-on voice filled the bright doorway. “I was just there last week and my aunt Sue, she wanted me to stay a couple days and help her with