Lost & Found - Jacqueline Sheehan [35]
“Are these the only kind you have?”
“These are the only kind I have in stock,” he said.
“When did bows start to look like this?”
“Back in the seventies. These compound bows are all anyone ever asks for,” he said.
Rocky remembered she had the remains of the arrow that had nearly killed Lloyd. She pulled it out of her bag.
“I mean this sort of arrow, a bow for this.”
She held up the broken arrow.
“Oh, now that’s a different thing altogether. You’re looking for someone who’s into traditional archery. I don’t do that here.” He folded his arms across his chest to close the conversation.
“Who does?” asked Rocky, crossing her arms over her chest.
She followed him back to the counter. The wall behind the counter was covered with business cards. He pulled the tack out of one of them and handed a card to Rocky. “This guy hunts with traditional bows. Hill Johnson. He used to give lessons. I don’t know if he still does. He’s up in Brunswick. You can’t have the card; it’s the only one I got. You need a pencil to write down his number?”
She thanked him and left. While she drove, Lloyd sat in the passenger seat. Rocky had cracked the passenger window several inches to clear the car of dog breath. As they drove, Lloyd turned his snout to a tendril of scent going by a restaurant. And then he leaned his upper body toward the window and tilted his nose skyward as he savored the breeze filled with smells unnoticed by humans. Lloyd closed his eyes and his soft lips fell into a Lab smile.
She pulled into a Dairy Mart to a get a Coke, full sugar variety. She hoped that the man who taught lessons and who used traditional bows was not a weird survivalist. She imagined he would be older, a lot like the man who ran the sporting goods store.
As she got out of the car, Lloyd assumed a more proprietary posture and looked like a regal walrus, staring casually ahead. Even though it was early December, she opened her window a crack also and opened the roof vent. She looked back with encouragement at the dog.
“I’ll be right back.”
A green-and-black SUV pulled in right next to her, too close, and she said under her breath, “Big asshole.” She would have to get in on Lloyd’s side of the car.
She went to the front door and with studied sarcasm, held the door open for the tight-jawed man who leapt from the vehicle. Rocky wanted him to say something, she wanted to let loose with a tirade about guzzling eighty percent of the world’s resources so that he could drive his Behemoth to the Dairy Mart. But both of them stopped dead as the black Lab went off like a bomb in the car. The hair on Lloyd’s back stood up straight and the car rocked as he thrashed his body.
“Jesus, Lloyd. Cut it out. What’s gotten into you?” The man did a double take when he saw Lloyd and then looked hard at Rocky.
“Is that your dog?” he said.
“Yeah, I don’t think he likes you,” said Rocky.
He offered her a contemptuous look, but since Lloyd did not let up his show of force, the look was brief. Rocky noticed that his brown hair was short, but just long enough to be meticulously combed to one side. He stumbled backward to his vehicle and seemed to forget whatever he had needed at the store. He made a tire squealing exit.
Rocky went back to her car. The dog stopped as quickly as he had begun, yet the fur on his back was still raised in ominous warning. Rocky ran her hand over his head to settle him and she imagined the danger button in his body switching back to the off position. “So you’re not mister nice guy all the time,” she said.
The entire encounter took about one minute and Rocky wondered if she should have paid more attention. She wondered if Lloyd knew that guy and if he did, why did Lloyd want to rip off his head? Bob had said that some people give dogs the creeps and there was no explanation.
Later that