Saturday

Martian Fighting Machine, the three-legged terrier of the house, aka Marty, was wedged between Shane and Parmelia on Shane's old bed in his Mamaw's house.

Marty woke up eager for breakfast, as he did every morning. He wiggled out of his snug den of human flesh, and stuck his tongue in Shane's ear to wake him up. That worked, and pretty soon Marty was chowing down, face deep in the big bowl Wishes had carved out of marble.

Ronnie got up and scratched his back, and so did Wishes. Then Auntie Moira showed up; he smelled lavender and patchouli before she got in the door. She scratched him too.

Marty ran out through the little door and took a colossal dump in the back yard. Then back in. He got under the table and licked Moira behind her knees.

Then, within a few minutes, everybody was gone. Marty went to check on his metal bed, but the embroidered pillow was occupied by Caliban. The husky cat stared back at him for a while without raising his head. Caliban's tail was hanging just over the edge of the bed, and Marty grabbed it. The cat launched himself from the bed, then circled back and swatted Marty on the face.

Marty got up in his bed and plopped over, groaning. He stayed that way until Caliban finally stretched himself and stalked off. Then he ran out to lie on the porch. He came back in and got a hambone he'd been playing with, and took it over to the corner of the yard where he buried things. He dug a new hole next to the gravestone Wishes had made for his mother. It was a good morning.

Eventually Caliban wandered out of the house. The cat sat for about ten minutes, alternately grooming himself and staring up at the birdhouse where the wren lived.

In his hutch, Aethelred, the burly European hare, chewed lettuce and kept an eye on Caliban. Sometimes at night he ate some of his feces to get more nutrition out of his diet; but he got more pleasure out of the lettuce. He pressed his body against the hutch door. Out in the open, given a chance, he'd run fast and straight for a long time.

Mid-morning, Aardvark showed up. He made sure all the animals had food, took Marty for a walk around the block, then locked the dog and cat inside and let Aethelred hop around the yard for a while. He put some Boston bib lettuce and baby carrots in the hutch. However, Aethelred discovered a low spot under the fence and was gone.

Aardvark shook his head and cursed, then laughed. He left to go finish a brick smoker/grill in Kennesaw.

Caliban climbed the apple tree and got a juvenile mockingbird. That was great, but when he was trying to get it to the ground for disassembly, Caliban slipped and tumbled off the tree trunk, and the bird got away. The cat stormed back up the tree, but had no luck this time.

He crossed to a tree in the next yard, down and out into the neighborhood. He tracked Aethelred for a while, but finally came home and leapt from the trunk onto the hammock strung between the apple tree and the birch tree.

Marty went in and out of the house a few times. Eventually he flopped down in the shade of the apple tree. Something caught his eye; it was Caliban's tail, hanging down through one of the four round openings Shane had sewn into the hammock, intended for Caliban's limbs.

The terrier got up and stretched, and pawed at the grass. He walked over and sat under the hammock for a little while, looking up at the tail. Finally he stood on his hind legs and got a mouthful.

The two animals tussled for some time, ending with Caliban rolling out of the hammock, the tension on his tail almost lifting Marty off his feet before the dog finally let go.

Caliban raced up the tree and stayed there a while, with Marty barking at him from the ground.

Later, Aardvark came back, this time on his Vespa. He fed the animals, then put Marty in a milk crate strapped on the back of his scooter, and gave him a ride around the neighborhood. They went to Dairy Queen and he got Marty a hot dog. It was awesome.

Saturday was better for Marty than it was for Caliban.

Sunday

It was mostly uneventful. Aardvark stopped by and relaxed for a few hours, then took off to get ready for a date.

Then Aethelred showed back up. He'd had several near-death experiences crossing streets, and he wanted lettuce. He came in under the fence and went straight to his open hutch.

Caliban fell upon him like a fat orange landslide. The two animals darted from one end of the yard to the other in their struggle. Caliban had mass and weaponry on his side; Aethelred had speed and boxing ability. He got in some good bites, as well.

Caliban used hit-and-run techniques, and finally cornered the hare over by the gravestone. He got a firm grip on Aethelred's neck and really went to work.

His small brain wasn't capable of thinking about the future, but with the taste of blood came a predator's awareness that he was going to eat like a king.

Marty, in his metal dog bed, slept through the whole thing.

Shortly thereafter, Wishes, Moira, and Parmelia got home in Moira's Crown Vic. Wishes checked on the animals, and found what was left of Aethelred. Moira mentioned her hasenpfeffer recipe, but Parmelia said she couldn't eat an animal she'd treated for a maxillary abscess. So they buried him.

It was a mediocre day for Marty, and an unfortunate one for Aethelred. Caliban had a fantastic day.

Monday

Pretty normal day. Wishes took Ronnie's car to work. He brought home a stuffed toy rabbit for Caliban, but Marty stole it and carried it around all evening. He slept with it on Shane's bed that night. Caliban curled up next to him, with the stuffed rabbit between them. Marty drooled on the pillow. Around midnight Caliban killed a mouse and left it in Shane's slipper.

Tuesday

Marty was missing Shane. He gorged himself at dinner, but with less enthusiasm than usual.

* * *

Halfway between Chattanooga and I-285, Shane was working on a dark red Merry Widow. It was a surprise for Parmelia's birthday, coming up in September. He'd had plenty of time to focus on the fine needlework and his attempt at incorporating Cherokee bead patterns, because Ronnie hadn't said a word in the past hundred miles.

Driving with the cruise control on, she had her long right leg drawn up, her bare foot on the leather seat. Shane wasn't sure if that was entirely safe. Her position reminded him of how she'd looked last night in the motel bathroom.

He turned off the XM radio. "Hey, Ronnie."

"What?"

"You look like you did last night when you had your toe stuck in the sink drain."

She kept her eyes on the road, but her face reddened. "You promised not to mention that."

"Sure, to other people! But we can laugh about it, can't we? Remember, I said, 'Someday we'll laugh about this?'"

She glanced at him. "It happened like sixteen hours ago! It was after midnight, so technically it's the same day. I don't think we're going to laugh about it. Can you just forget it, or at least shut the hell up about it?"

"Come on, it was hilarious! If you saw that in a movie, you'd laugh." No response. "Is it because you were naked? You're not still embarrassed, are you?"

"Jesus, Shane, it was this morning. I'm going to be embarrassed about that until I die. I thanked you for helping me, now can we drop it?"

"Okay, okay. I'm not here to embarrass you. Ask anybody; that's not who I am."

They drove in silence for a while. Shane played with the radio and ate some chocolate almond toffee from the Russell Stover outlet. Finally he said, "I saw my Mamaw naked once. It's not a big deal."

She heaved a sigh. "Thanks."

He chewed for a while. "It wasn't like a sexual situation or anything. Completely not erotic. More like the opposite of erotic."

"What?" She looked angry. He saw that a lot with women. There was always something. "Opposite?  Shane, I was masturbating."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, that little silver bullet vibrating thing. And you had to keep both your hands on the wall to keep from sliding down and breaking your toe, right?"

"Yes, for God's sake, we were both there, and it was only sixteen hours ago, so we both know what happened."

"Which is why the little silver bullet thing was still in there."

"What's wrong with you?"

"Remember I said, 'Is there a bee in here?' It sounded like a bumblebee. Come on, you know that's funny." If he could get her to laugh, that would take care of at least forty or fifty percent of being mad. It always worked with Parmie. "I can laugh about it. See, I'm laughing already."

She glared at him, then looked at the road again. "You thought I was the opposite of erotic?"

Was that what was bothering her?  "No, no—I meant, my Mamaw was the opposite of erotic. Totally not attractive. You're way hot, Ronnie. Absolutely. More on the tall and skinny side than I like, of course. But it was hilarious, is my point."

"God." She rested her head on the steering wheel.  "I can't believe you saw that."

Shane watched the road, ready to take the wheel. "Well, imagine if I hadn't been around to help."

"I wouldn't have been in the bathroom."

"Oh. You have a point." He held candy out to her. "Toffee?" He really wanted to grab that wheel.

She raised her head. "Is it Russell Stover? Okay."

"Here, have a Yoo-Hoo with that. They're good even at room temperature."

They listened to the radio for a while; he'd found a station that sounded like rain on a metal roof. It was soothing.

"Ronnie, ten years from now, this'll be like a great joke between us. I'll just mention the word 'silver bullet' and you'll laugh."

She almost smiled then. "You think we'll still know each other in ten years?"

"Sure! You're practically family."

"Not like your cousin Joanna, I'm not. Redneck."

"See? That was funny. Am I embarrassed? No ma'am. We're just animals with big brains, you know that. Stuff happens."

"I guess it does." She looked a lot more at ease. Shane felt he'd done good work this day. Starting with getting her toe out of that drain.

He pulled out his phone. "I'm gonna call and see if we need to pick up anything for the menagerie. I'm sure that big fat cat isn't going hungry, but sometimes we run out of lettuce for the rabbit."

"Hare."

"Whatever. We oughta find a home for that thing where it can run and play." He dialed. "Hey, Wishes! Yeah, we're gettin' close. Hey, do we need to pick up lettuce for the rabbit? Huh. Really? Wow. That is hilarious. Did Auntie Moira make hasenpfeffer? Fine. Lighten up, Dude."