Roy, Part Three

The "He" behind "His Take" is taking this week off to focus on a new writing gig and we're super proud of him!  While he's working on reviewing comics, the other 1/2 of the duo is going to sneak in a 3rd installment of a story we started on a while ago that I'm calling "Roy". It's about a lawyer taking a road trip with a genetically modified creature and you can see the first installment here and the second here first if you need to catch up. 

Chapter Four: Doors  

 
 
 
 
 
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Kevin stared at the cinder block wall as his Camry idled and his hands squeezed the steering wheel rhythmically. He had a good head of steam and real resolve walking out of his office, picking up the two small suitcases that Roy had left just outside his door, and bursting through the back door to the parking lot, but it had dissipated when the sunshine hit his face. Somehow, he had managed to drop Roy’s luggage in the back seat and make it to the driver’s side door, but once he was safely in the driver’s seat, his brain had started melting again, just a little.  

So he stared at the back wall of the building and tried to get his mind right.  

“It’s not normal. No. It’s not. And that’s OK because it’s real, even if it’s not normal. Right? It’s real, right? It has to be real, because I heard him talk and he told me his story and I could FEEL his little paw on me and it’s probably real because I don’t know everything and who knows what goes on when people aren’t looking and … (chuckle) People with money, they can just do whatever they-” 

He was interrupted by scratching on the passenger door. 

“Hey!! Kev!!”, Roy was jumping at the door, very like a dog, but yelling, “How about a hand buddy??!?”  

Kevin took a deep breath and decided to save the rest of his nervous breakdown for later, maybe at the hotel. He reached across the seat to push the door open. Roy scrambled up onto the seat and started to settle in. 

“Hoo Boy, Kev, I thought you forgot about me there. Yeah, listen, I should have probably mentioned, though Idda thought it was common sense..”, He snorted, “there’s a whole bunch of things you’re gonna have to help me with. Doors is a big one.” 

Roy settled back on his rump and held his front paws up for Kevin to see.  

“No thumbs, right?” 

“Right.”, Kevin mumbled. 

“Also, maybe you didn’t notice, but even if I had thumbs, I’m too short to do much with ‘em.” 

“Yeah, ok, yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“It ain’t a big thing, Kev, it just takes getting used to. Like I said before, it’s a lot to take in.” 

Kevin wasn’t sure how Roy could be the only talking Yorkie in the world and still be so patient. He was grateful that - WAIT! WAS ROY THE ONLY TALKING YORKIE? WERE THERE OTHERS??? He shook that thought away, he couldn’t deal with it now, and settled back into his seat with another deep breath. 

How many times, Kevin wondered, could he shake his head like this before he had permanent brain damage? Was there a chance that it was too late? Before he could sink deeply into that thought he became distantly aware that Roy was staring at him. He gripped the door handle a little tighter and turned his head slowly to see why.  

Roy was leaned casually on the seat. 

“I just want you to know, Kev, that I’m not mad.”, Roy began, “Sometimes people think I’m mad ‘cause I’ve got these beady little eyes and I can’t really make a face that will convince you I’m NOT mad.” For a not-angry dog, his words sounded suspiciously clipped. “Mom had me see someone for my anger issues, and I approach the world with a new understanding, now. See?” 

There was no doubt in Kevin’s mind now, Roy was definitely upset about something and was talking himself around it. If Kevin could figure out what it was, he could fix it and maybe Roy would stop talking. He used the trick he had taught himself when he was a teenager and felt particularly clueless: He scanned his environment and took inventory.  

Small dog, talks like someone’s uncle, very upset, black button nose, fluffy ears, feet don’t reach the floor, seatbelt is probably a lost cause… can see the weather is still sunny through the open passenger door, talking dog is rubbing his face now with both paws, still angry…  

“There just are ONLY SO MANY TIMES I CAN EXPLAIN..” 

Angrier now, about to blow, nice light breeze through that door… the door… THE PASSENGER DOOR! 

Kevin propelled himself sideways and threw his long right arm out to catch the handle inside Roy’s door. Roy flinched with his whole body and for the split second before the Kevin managed to pull the door shut, he thought he might get bitten. 

As he righted himself again in the driver’s seat, Kevin took a long, slow breath and the air felt like victory to his lungs.  

“Well, ok..”, said Roy, “maybe this kid has it together after all.” 

Heady with his most recent victory, Kevin started the car, slipped backwards out of the parking stall, and headed toward the street.  

“You know,” he ventured, “If you don’t want people to think you’re angry, maybe you could wag your tail just a little?” 

Roy looked at him levelly. “No, Kev, I think we can both agree that ain’t gonna happen.”