Page 25 of Brett and Rowdy
“He’s a red and white. He’s just a big goofball. Mr. Mann, this is Barney. Barney, this is Mr. Mann. What do we do?”
He fought his smile. “Well, why don’t we go in. Do you have a fenced-in place for them to go outside?”
“I do. I have a doggy door.”
Excellent. Barney would be out like a shot, exploring new ground. “My Barney knows doggy doors. So let’s go in. I’ll have a seat and then I have my stick. I’ll unharness him, and then he’s just a dog.”
“I don’t think he’s ever going to be just a dog.”
This time Rowdy did just crack up. “Trust me, if he’s not working, he’s a giant goofy-assed dog. He likes to play ball and get tummy rubs and chew on my earlobes.”
“Your earlobes?”
“Yes. And yes, it is the grossest thing you’ll ever experience.”
“Okay… so. I’m going to set you down on the sofa. Would you like a beer?”
“I would love one. I don’t suppose there’s a bowl of water that Barney can get to.” He leaned down and he took off Barney’s harness, the dog shaking good and hard, like “oh, off work. I’m taking off my bra.”
Brett’s house smelled good, like leather and black pepper with a hint of… Lava soap and char. Like burning, which made sense.
“So you weld your artwork?”
“Yeah, yeah, I do both—I have an arc welder and a forge. I mean, obviously not in here. That would be messy, and I don’t think even the tile floors would forgive me. I tend to work on concrete. Why?”
“I’m curious, I suppose. I mean, it’s not like I can see what you do for a living, so if I have to guess.”
“Well, at some point we could—” Brett stopped suddenly. “You know what, if you lean forward and stick your hands out—I mean lean like really lean forward at the hips.”
He did as Brett asked, leaning forward, his hands out, fingers searching.
“Perfect. Now, put your hands down.”
He put his hands down and they landed on cold metal. “Oh, is this something you made? Is it sharp?”
“Yes, to the making and no to the sharp. That’s why I said I figured it was safe. It’s absolutely not sharp, but it kind of has the feel of my artwork. I do some furniture. Very little, but this has a feel of what I do.”
He explored. It was so smooth, and the flat plain of it was interesting to his hands. Actually, because it was so slick, it was like not touching anything.
Like when he touched his own lip and he couldn’t figure out if his finger was feeling his lip or if his lip was feeling his finger. It was the weirdest thing.
But then he got to the edges and they were all different types of bends. There wasn’t a straight edge or a point, not anywhere. It was like a roller coaster in his hands.
“Oh, this is amazing. This is so cool. I love this. Are there legs? Is it solid?” He scooted closer to the table, almost falling his butt off the couch, but he was just fascinated, and he had to see. He had to know.
“It is on legs, but you kind of—the base is the same size as the top almost. If you’ll scoot your toes out—go slow – when you feel it, it matches. The legs are V-shaped underneath going from the outside down toward the middle, holding it up.” There was excitement in Brett’s voice, this warmth and pride.
Rowdy acknowledged it somehow in his brain, but really… He was fascinated. This was amazing.
“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever felt. Is there more that I can see?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take you out to the studio in a minute. You want your beer first?”
Did he want a beer? He didn’t know if he wanted to. “Oh, the legs aren’t the same. The legs are… They have a texture, and they make a sound.”
He knew his mouth was open, and he was gaping like a newborn fool, but it was so fascinating to find something new. “Eee-a-la, I need one of these. This is amazing. I know, I’ve said that already, no? I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t have all of the words that I need.”
“It’s okay.” Brett sat beside him. “I can’t begin to tell you how absolutely okay it is that you don’t. Jesus, Rowdy. Thank you.”
