“That thing weighs at least thirty pounds,” he said. “Hopefully, that’ll do the trick until morning.”
The dog now appeared to be sound asleep. He was even softly snoring.
“What kind of dog do you have?” the young man asked me.
“A Dogon dog,” I replied. “Do you know what that is?”
“Never heard of them,” my new acquaintance said cheerfully.
“Well, mine looks a little like yours.”
“Huh. That’s interesting. Mine came from a shelter. He’s just a mutt. But he’s a great traveling companion. Over the past couple of years we’ve been all over together. Europe, Canada, South America. We’re on our way back from Spain now, heading home for a while.”
Other than the fact that he was waiting for a West Coast flight, the young man didn’t offer any information about where, exactly, home might be. And I wondered how he managed to travel around with the dog as easily as he seemed to be suggesting, since many international destinations had strict quarantine laws about bringing in pets, even temporarily. Those issues aside, how did he manage to afford his wanderings? Was he a student? A con man? The eccentric heir of a family fortune?
I might have asked, except that my new friend kept chattering on and, meaning to or not, he ended up answering my unspoken question. Sort of, anyway. “Actually,” he said, “I don’t think I’d be able to get anywhere without Dax. I hitchhike wherever I go, but just about nobody will pick up a guy, a traveler, standing alone on the road. Because I have the dog with me, though, they know I’m okay. I mean, bad guys don’t travel around with dogs, right? So Dax is like my ambassador. My intermediary.” He tapped the top of the kennel and the dog responded with a sleepy yip, “Don’t you think dogs do that? Act as a go-between, sometimes. For example, you and I would never have met if Dax hadn’t gone exploring.” He smiled at me, looking as pleased as if, instead of having a passing encounter, we had just made a connection that would last a lifetime. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Laurie,” I told him.
“Laurie,” he repeated. Still smiling, he added, “And something with a P.”
I nodded. “Perzin,”
“Yup, I knew there was a ‘z’ in there, too.” He laughed. “Well, that’s weird. I mean, I don’t usually get any psychic vibes or anything like that.”
“It happens,” I responded quietly.
“I’m Kelly, by the way.”
He held out his hand and I shook it. Then Kelly stretched himself out on the bench again, replacing his backpack with his jacket, which he balled up to use as a pillow. “I’m going to try to nod off again for a while,” he said, and tapped the kennel again. “We’ve still got a long trip ahead of us,” he said.
“Okay. Good night,” I said. I started to walk away but turned back for a moment, meaning to add something like, Safe travels, but he had already closed his eyes. I walked back down the deserted corridor to the bar. The last of the customers were gone and Kim had pulled down the security gate, but I could see her sitting at a table, counting her tips. I called to her, and she let me in through a side door.
“Well?” she said. “Did you do your good deed? Did you find out who the dog belonged to?”
“Yes,” I said. “I did.”
And then I checked my watch. We still had to wait for the night manager to come and count out the register, but I was thinking I might take off a little early tonight and leave Kim to deal with him. It had become apparent to me that there was something else I had to do.
~XV~
“Now? You want to come over now?”
“Yes, now.”
“It’s after midnight.”
“You’re up, aren’t you? I can be there by one thirty.”
“So what? Why would I even want to talk to you?”
“We don’t have to talk. I want you to do a reading for me.”
“That’s even more ridiculous.”
“Call Raymond,” I said. “Ask him if you should do it.”
“You want me to wake up Raymond Gilmartin. At this hour.”
“Yes, I do. Tell him it’s about the radiomen. Tell him that you and I are going to talk to them tonight. One of them, anyway.”
It was a tense conversation, but I knew what the outcome would be. I knew it before I had even dialed Ravenette’s number and got her on the phone. She was beyond annoyed, but as soon as the phone call ended I was so sure that she was already dialing Raymond that I didn’t even head in the direction of my regular bus stop but instead exited the terminal and walked toward the far end of the taxi rank, where the gypsy drivers hung around even though they weren’t officially allowed to join the lineup of yellow cabs with city medallions.
As I expected, I was offered a ride. I made a deal with the driver for what I wanted, which was to take me to my apartment, wait a few minutes for me while I went upstairs, and then head directly into the city. I was already in the back seat of the car when my phone played the chiming tones that meant I had a call.
“All right,” Ravenette said, sounding like she had to clench her teeth to get out that one word. “But just because Raymond said so.”
“You can tell him everything that happens.”
“I intend to,” Ravenette said.
“I’m on my way,” I told her and clicked off the phone.
The car pulled up in front of my apartment house in less than half an hour. I jumped out, ran into the building and hurried up the stairs. As soon as I opened the door, I saw Digitaria sitting, as usual, just inside, waiting for me to come home.
He nudged my leg—his usual greeting—and waited to be petted. I gave him a couple of quick pats and then put his leash around his neck. He was expecting a walk, so he waited patiently while I dashed into the bedroom and grabbed the small stash of emergency cash I kept hidden in my bureau drawer. I thought it would be just enough to pay for the ride to Manhattan and, later, get us back home.
I led the dog down the stairs and out the front door, where I loaded him into the car. He didn’t seem at all disturbed by the change in our usual routine and, instead, leaned against me, sitting like another watchful passenger. The car glided down my block and then turned toward Queens Boulevard to join the luminous stream of traffic heading off into the night.
We pulled up to Ravenette’s building just about the time I’d told her I would arrive. I paid the driver and stepped out of the car, pulling Digitaria along with me. Late as it was, there was still plenty of foot traffic around. The restaurants were still busy, the local bars were still open. A young, pretty girl in a silver skirt walked by me and stopped briefly to scratch Digitaria’s ears.
“Cute dog,” she said dreamily, and then walked on.
I rang Ravenette’s bell, and when I got no answer, rang it again. Finally, she buzzed me in.
“Okay,” I said to Digitaria. “Here we go.”
We rode the elevator up to her loft, where she was waiting for me on the same low couch where she had waited the last time I was here. The few lamps that were lit in the huge loft illuminated only the area where she was sitting, so that she seemed to be positioned at the edge of a vast pool of darkness.
She rose when the elevator let us out and said, almost immediately, “The dog?” There was something about the way she blurted that out, some familiarity that made me realize she knew all about the time when the two men had tried to steal Digitaria. Being reminded of the episode was going to make me upset all over again, so I was just going to have to try to get past it.
“There’s a reason you brought him?” Ravenette continued.
“There is,” I told her.
She waited, studying my every move as I led the dog into the circle of light and seated myself on a chair. Digitaria took his place against my leg.