Beaten Dogs E-Book

B. Hernandez

• Herausgeber: tredition
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 168

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Beschreibung

"You can't save all beaten Dogs." "One way or the other, sooner or later, it would anyway turn out exactly like this: you got older; the storms quieter; the inner voices would fall silent; your urge would die down; you would sit at the bar and remember the old battles, wounds, and pain, and you would laugh at how powerful and intense it had all been, and how useless and destructive. In time, even these memories would fade until you knew them to be there somewhere, but couldn't feel them anymore. Just like he couldn't feel them right now. It would all be reduced to images and thoughts. Or not even that – you would only have a faint notion that there once was something different. That you once had felt and lived like that. But nothing would touch you anymore. You would have made your peace with everything. Eternal peace would rule where mighty battles were once raging. It would be like becoming a new person. Or perhaps rather a different person. A person you had longed to be in those dark, cold moments of your youth. Then you would finally arrive at the point that Alex had reached long before. You would know that the only possible happiness in life consisted in downing a few beers and having some lonely little thing suck your dick only to give her what she was craving for the most: a tender kiss and arms to hold her in the night. No more, no less."

Leseprobe

www.tredition.de

Alas, the pen is as mighty as the sword: they both wield the power to set free what life and love you may have locked away inside.

B. Hernandez

Beaten Dogs

www.tredition.de

© 2014 B. Hernandez

Umschlag, Illustration: B. Hernandez

Lektorat: Christine Baumgart

Übersetzung: Julia Ritter

Verlag: tredition GmbH, Hamburg

ISBN

Paperback

978-3-7323-2038-7

Hardcover

978-3-7323-2039-4

e-Book

978-3-7323-2040-0

Das Werk, einschließlich seiner Teile, ist urheberrechtlich geschützt. Jede Verwertung ist ohne Zustimmung des Verlages und des Autors unzulässig. Dies gilt insbesondere für die elektronische oder sonstige Vervielfältigung, Übersetzung, Verbreitung und öffentliche Zugänglichmachung.

1

“Where the hell are we going?”

“Be patient, Alex. It’s only a small detour. I need to get a present for my son’s birthday. Don’t worry, you’ll get yours right after.”

“Yeah, well, just remember I can’t stay away too long. My boss always gives me shit about heading out during lunch hour. It’s the busiest time of the day.”

“Don’t tell me you give a flying fuck what your boss says. Or have you suddenly turned Mr. Career Man on me? Seeing as you’ve just been promoted from bun warmer to salad-and-onion chopper?”

“Bite me.”

“I won’t. But you’ll bite me, very gently. And soon enough, too, don’t you worry.”

With a slight shake of his head and a suppressed grin Alex turned away from Nicole and looked out the passenger-side window.

“You really are quite the little bitch.”

She took her eyes from the street to cast him a twinkling sideways glance and answered: “And that’s exactly what you like about me.”

Alex pretended not to have heard. They drove on in silence for a while.

He’d been working at the downtown sandwich joint for almost a year now, serving a clientele of minor clerks from the business high-rises who custom-ordered their sandwiches from the deli counter.

He had started out as bus boy. The deli had a few tables, which were frequented only by old people and students except during peak hours. After a while, they put him on different stations – production, the counter – just like all the other employees.

Nicole was one of the regulars; she came by almost every day, usually buying a small cheese on rye, green salad, and mineral water. You couldn’t call that a meal, as she herself freely admitted, but it beat the hunger and didn’t ruin her figure. That’s how Alex and she started talking. At first it was just the usual banalities exchanged with the customers as their sandwiches were stacked or their purchases rung up. But soon the banalities turned into the kind of banter that evolves almost organically when two people share a wavelength. At some point, Alex noted that she would choose carefully where to stand in line so that she’d get served by him. Sometimes, when she misjudged and was about to be asked by one of his colleagues what she’d like, she would pretend to get a call on her mobile and let the next in line go first. And once, when Nicole finally came in much later than usual and Alex took a break because she was the only customer there and took a seat at her table where she was just about to eat her sandwich and salad, it became almost immediately clear where all this was heading. Nicole finished her meal and took him to a motel room and that was the start of the affair which they had kept going for the past six months or so. They’d meet three or four times each month, either during her lunch break or right after she left her office for the day. They’d screw in her car in some underground parking lot or get a room in some motel near the city limits or went to Alex’s small apartment, though they seldom did that. No lengthy talks, no dining or other activities. Actually, they were virtual strangers. All he knew about her was that she worked for some major insurance company and her office was close to his place of work, she was married and had two kids. Plus, she was easy on the eye and willing to fuck him. That anyway was basically all he cared about. The rest wasn’t important. She also made it clear from the very beginning what she wanted from him and what she didn’t. She was quite the little bitch. And Alex liked that. Sometimes a little more, sometimes a little less.

“I’m working the cash register and the counter. I haven’t been in production for ages.”

“I know, cutie. I bought my lunch from you just yesterday, remember?” Then she slapped his thigh. “Come on, stop being grouchy. You know it was just a joke. Who cares what job you’ve got.”

Not her, that was for sure. And he didn’t usually care either. But sometimes her little jokes were just a bit too bare-knuckled to be funny. There was nothing wrong with bussing tables or chopping onions. It wasn’t any less shitty than sitting on your butt behind a desk all day long sorting papers and processing emails and going to boring meetings. At least a sandwich was something useful, something people needed to feel satisfied or, in the case of the office workers, to survive.

Alex had dropped out of college for good in the middle of junior year, having tried several majors, none of which seemed to stick. He worked as an intern in a bank but quit that, too. That was four years ago. Since then he’d been working odd jobs – whatever struck his fancy and only for however long he enjoyed it. You had to make a living and he was determined to earn the money he needed. That was all he wanted from a job. His parents of course saw things quite differently. They felt it was truly regrettable that he hadn’t made the most of the great opportunities a college education offered a young man. But as long as he didn’t come to them for money, they let him do whatever you think will make you happy. Each of his by now rare visits to his parents sooner or later ended in the same discussion. He hated that. They never got the chance to go to college so now they wanted him to have what they couldn’t – even now, after his disastrous failure they were still willing to pay for it. Alex saw the generosity and selflessness in their insistence, but wasn’t it his damned business whether or not he wanted to have that great opportunity? He just didn’t see why you should only find happiness if you took that wonderful opportunity to go to college and spent your time studying stuff that didn’t have anything to do with real life. Or, even worse, if you studied stuff that did have lots to do with real life and was therefore tedious and boring. To hell with it. He had spent two years in college and hadn’t even known how to properly chop an onion when he started working at the deli.

On the other hand, he had often wished he could swap some of the people he’d worked with for someone with a slightly broader perspective. His current boss was a case in point. He was nothing but the longest-serving member of the sales team, responsible for drawing up the schedule and making sure all the diverse tasks were taken care of. Yet he acted like the sun shone out his ass. And he had the IQ of a stale slice of toast. A very tiresome combination. If you dropped a plate or a slice of meat you’d get penalty points you had to work off during an extra shift cleaning the bathroom or scrubbing the trashcans. He called it education on the job or learning for life. He himself, he never, not a single time, managed to arrange a work schedule that didn’t conflict with anyone’s part-time status, off-days, or daycare hours – which, of course, was never his fault. The staff had to arrange their shifts among themselves to keep the store running smoothly. Alex could only tolerate the cretin because he knew he could quit anytime and move on to something else. Maybe he should do that soon. If you looked at it that way, Nicole was right on the mark: his boss was an asshole and Alex didn’t give a flying fuck about him.

“So how old is he gonna get?”

“Who? Kenny?”

“If that’s what your son is called, yes. Kenny.”

“Seven. My husband wanted to get him a game console. I didn’t, though. The kids watch enough TV as is, and I wanted to get him something that would make him go outside more. Plus, a dog will help him learn to interact with animals.“

“And I guess you got your way.“

“Wasn’t too difficult. My husband knows what’s good for him.“

“Oh, I’m sure of that.“

She hit his thigh again. This time harder and with her fist.

“Watch it! My husband is lucky to have me.“

Alex cried out, rubbed his thigh and twisted his features into an exaggerated mask of pain. “Whatever you say, honey, just don’t hit me again.“

They both laughed out loud.

“Seriously, though. He agreed pretty quickly, on two conditions: that I be the one to get the dog, and that I get one from the pound.“

“Why’s that?“

“Because he thinks that after a few weeks the kids will have lost interest and no one will take care of the animal anymore. That’s why he wants one from the pound. Easier to return.“

“Easier to return? Why bother? Just leave him by the side of the road. With all the dogs just left somewhere, he’ll soon find buddies.”

“Very funny. We’re not that heartless. At least we’re giving the little fella a chance for a new home. And if it doesn’t work out, well, he’ll just go back to the place he knows. No big deal.“

“Are you nuts? You can’t just push an animal back and forth like that!“

“What are you getting so worked up about? It’s just a dog, it won’t care who fills up his bowl. And it’s not like we’re planning to return it right from the start. But if it doesn’t work out, it just doesn’t. Returning is better than abandoning or even putting it down.“

“And when you say that it doesn’t work out you mean that your little fella loses interest and won’t take care of the dog anymore?“

“’My little fella’? Did you just compare my son to a dog?”

“No. Of course not. All I’m saying is that your husband has a point. Maybe a gaming console is the better birthday present. Little Kenny may not be playing with it forever, but at least you can easily give or throw it away when he’s done with it. Besides, dogs tend to pee and poop. And bark. And when you take them out for a walk you need to keep them away from all the other dogs so they won’t mate or fight or make mischief. Plus, they have bad breath.”

“Hm. Sounds familiar. But after fifteen years of marriage you get used to your spouse’s bad breath. And as for you, you always brush your teeth before we see each other.”

“Careful. Dogs can bite, too.”

“Yes, cutie. But not the ones that bark, right? And why are you so hung up about this? Don’t you like dogs in general or do you just want to talk me out of getting one?”

“Phh. I couldn’t care less about dogs.”

“That’s not what it sounded like. Okay, we’re here. It’s right up there.”

Nicole drove into a parking lot and killed the engine.

“It won’t be long, I promise.”

“Okay. I’ll wait in the car.”

“Jesus, are you scared of dogs? Come on already. Help me pick one.”

With a deep and clearly audible sigh Alex got out of the car and followed Nicole to the animal shelter. He could hear the barking dogs all the way to the parking lot.

The main door led into a wide hallway from which four smaller corridors branched off to each side. The smaller corridors were lined with cages. Each of the cages was like a cube with solid concrete walls on three sides. The fourth side faced the corridor. A mesh door was set in one of the walls. Floor-to-ceiling mesh wire reinforced by steel beams separated the cages from the corridor. Each cage was occupied by three, four, or even five dogs. There were also little doghouses or baskets for the animals to sleep in, bowls, some dog toys as well as pieces of wood and bones for them to chew on. The dogs barked not only at one another but were overexcited because there were other visitors: small kids with their parents, young couples in love, and some elderly people. They all made their way from one cage to the next, stopping in front of a cage, watching, considering, tapping the mesh and iron bars to get the dogs’ attention. They all talked to the animals the way they would talk to a baby. Then they moved on. The dogs barked and ran up and down their cages, wagging their tails. Some were shy and didn’t come all the way to the mesh where the visitors were standing, others put their front paws up against the mesh and let themselves be petted.

“I’ll go and see if I can find one of the keepers, Alex. Why don’t you take a look around.”

When Nicole returned a little while later with one of the dog shelter staff, a tiny, fragile mildly bored looking elderly man in green rubber boots and green overalls with the shelter’s name on the back and his name – Ed – stitched onto the breast pocket, she didn’t see Alex right away. She thought he would still be waiting for her near the entrance, since he’d been so reluctant to come in, but now they had to search for him in all the corridors, taking care not to miss him among all the other visitors. Finally they spotted him. He was standing motionless all the way to the back of one of the furthest corridors, looking into the cage there. Nicole looked at Ed, shook her head, and called Alex. When he didn’t hear her or chose not to, she and Ed marched toward him. They were alone in this corridor, which was no big surprise as all the cages here were empty. Again she called Alex’s name. Only as they came closer did she see, or rather hear, that the cage he was staring at wasn’t unoccupied like the others. There was only one dog in the cage, and it barked like crazy. Startled, she stopped in her tracks. She was a few steps away from Alex. He still didn’t notice her but watched the dog, calmly. So did Ed. The dog’s barks sounded much louder and more aggressive than all the others’. It stood with its head slightly lowered and its legs wide apart, barked at Alex and stopped only to growl and show its teeth. It looked like it would hurl itself against the mesh at any moment and try to tear Alex to pieces. Instead, it suddenly relaxed its aggressive posture and run in circles a few times before starting the whole spiel over again. Finally Ed stepped towards Alex and asked him to move away from the cage so that the dog wouldn’t be provoked even more. As soon as the two men moved over to Nicole and out of the dog’s sight, there was silence in the cage.

“Found a kindred spirit, did you? I’m ready to go now. I wanted to get a puppy, but they don’t have any at the moment. Some adolescents but no baby pups. And I don’t want a dog with a past for Kenny. Who knows what these poor devils have been through. Ed says they only give away dogs that have been re-socialized, but I still wouldn’t feel good about it. So you men win after all: it’ll be the game console. The birthday party’s this weekend and I don’t have time to check any more dog pounds. It was worth a try, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

Alex turned towards the cage in the back once more and then looked questioningly at Ed.

“That one came not too long ago. Probably got beaten by the owners. Poor guy. Went almost crazy. Must have been a strong dog, though. Strong and proud. Didn’t let them beat the spirit out of him or he wouldn’t be so full of life. But even the strongest eventually get lost deep inside and can’t find their way again. Most of them get back to being themselves after staying here for a while, when they’ve had enough time to recover. There must be that click in their heads, then they can go back to normal. It’s really amazing sometimes what you can achieve with just a little bit of proper handling. You can make them get used to people again and find them new homes. Most of them, anyway. With that one I’m not sure we can make a change. That dog has gone mean. He might not come back. We’ll give him a chance but we might have to put him down. Maybe it’s for the best. You can’t save all beaten dogs.”

In silence the three of them passed the empty cages and went back to the main hallway and the entrance, where Nicole thanked Ed and handed him a tip. Ed opened the door for them, and Nicole and Alex walked to the parking lot. They got into the car and drove back to the city. Alex stared at the street without seeing.

“Jesus, you look like you’re ready to jump off a bridge. Did the dogs get to you so badly?”

“The one in the last cage hasn’t gone mean. Not yet. But he’ll certainly go completely crazy in there, and then they’ll have to shoot him.”

“How can you know that? Are you the dog whisperer now?”

“He was barking and went into a threatening posture, but in all the time I stood there he never once jumped at the bars.”

“So?”

“If he’d really wanted to attack me, the mesh and bars wouldn’t have stopped him. He would have blindly followed his instincts.”

“If you say so.”

“Yes, I do ……. I know what I’m talking about. I’ve seen something like that on TV. The dog was just the same. They had to shoot it at the end.”

“Oh Alex, you’re really hard to figure out sometimes. Remember what you said when I first asked you to go to bed with me? You said, why not? Everything else is just overrated.”

“So? I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes. But now you’re going all mushy about a dog.”

“All I said is that the dog isn’t mean. But he will go crazy if he stays in that cage.”

“So what should they do? Set him free and hope you’re right?”

“How would I know? I told you they had to shoot the dog on the TV show. No idea how to do it differently.”

“Well, you can’t save them all. But you heard the guy: most of the dogs find new homes. Happy end.”

“Happy end my ass. Death is the only happy end.”

“Please don’t share another of your the-world-is-such-a-shitty-place-we’d-all-be-better-off-never-having-been-born moments. They really get me down.”

“Okay, okay. No more dog talk. Happy end. Wouldn’t want to get you down.”

“Don’t you start. I’m not the one nearly bursting into tears over some howling dog. You really are unbelievable. On the one hand you’re the poster boy for nihilism, someone who doesn’t give a shit about the world and life in general. But on the other hand you are compelled in some almost cruel way and in some hidden corner of your soul – or whatever it is you have where others have a soul – to hold on to the pathetic hope that one day, everything will be well and we’re all in for a little bit of salvation. It must suck to be you sometimes. And then you get into these horrible moods. Insufferable.”

“Yeah, yeah, and you’re just a happy ray of sunshine.”

“At least I see the bright side of life and know how to have fun.”

“By cheating on your husband.”

“You know very well what I mean. Or are you trying to get all moral on me?”