Page 11 of Heart Strings & Hotlines
The bell sounds again as I swing the door open to reveal a plump older woman holding a basket full of jars and her equally elderly companion in a tweed hat.
“I’m not interested in purchasing anything today.” I begin to close the door, but the woman sticks her foot into the doorjamb with shocking speed.
“Silly boy.” The older man tsks. “We’re not here to sell you anything. We’re part of the Sweetbriar Scuttlebutt Society—we’re the welcome committee. We put this together for you.”
“Oh dear. You’re not supposed to say Scuttlebutt Society,” the woman scolds the unfazed older man. When he shrugs, she returns her attention to me. “Why are you holding Hercules?” The woman sets the basket down at my feet, then pets the dirty monster in my outstretched hand.
“Do you know this thing?”
“Thing? Silly. This here is Hercules, and we’re Betty and Vinny Carver.”
“Can you take it?” I shove the ten-pound thing into her face.
“What? No. No, did that rat Johansson leave you here, little Hercules?” the woman coos but refuses to take the monster.
The creature sits like a lead weight in my hand, so I’m forced to prop him…her?...against my chest.
“So what do I do with it?”
“Well, now, the animal shelter is overrun,” the man says, pushing past me into the house as if there’s any available space for them. “If you bring old Hercules here to them, they’ll put her down. And you do not want to put Hercules down. She’s beloved, you know, town mascot and everything.”
“Then what do I do?”
“You have a one-track mind, don’t ya, son?” The old man eyes me up and down.
“What do I do with this thing?” I repeat.
“Well, for now, you’ll have to foster her.” He moves deeper into the Tetris den. “I’ll get the word out in the Scuttlebutt about rehoming her. In the meantime, Johnny down at the pet store can tell you what to feed her.”
Mrs. Carver backs up a step, and I follow with Hercules outstretched again.
“We stopped by to welcome you is all.” She tucks her hands under her arms. “And let you know to get your application in for the trash pickup. Esther’s real picky about who she takes on nowadays.” Vinny slips past me and joins his wife back on the threshold. “Your water is all set for the month, but then you’ll need to get that application in too. And don’t forget about the gas. They have their own deadlines and application process. It’s probably best for you to join Sweetbriar’s next town meeting so we can help ya get all settled in.”
“The trash?” I mumble. My brain is still cataloging everything they listed. “Can’t this all be done online?”
“No, sir, not here in Sweetbriar.” Mr. Carver leans back on his heels. “We’re no city folk. Everything’s done face-to-face around here.”
“My kind of hell.”
“What was that?” Mrs. Carver asks, leaning forward, so I hold out the ratdog to keep her at bay.
“Nothing. Anything else I should know?”
“Yup, Hercules is special. She needs a lot of love and attention, but she’s a porker so don’t leave her food out, and you’re better off wearing her any time you don’t want her crying.” The old woman stares down her nose at me.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Nope, sorry, son. We’ll see you real soon.” Mrs. Carver waves over her shoulder.
“Can you believe Johansson? Leaving that poor animal here with him?” Mr. Carver’s voice carries like a bullhorn.
“Shh, Vinny.”
The muscles in my arm twitch, so I close the door and set Hercules on the floor. She instantly starts screaming again.
I didn’t even know ratdogs could scream, but I’m already googling solutions, and when I don’t find a readily available answer, I google how to put on a fucking dog carrier.
Then I march next door for help.
