On The Run

Chapter Nine - "One Good Deed. Plus One"

Chloe

I wouldn’t have seen the Anatolian Shepherd dog if it hadn’t been for my obsession with old and damaged beat-up cars. I’d only been living at the apartment above the auto shop for a week, and as hospitable as they were, I still tried to stay out of their way; which meant I climbed out of the push-up window at the crack of dawn, and returned at night. They, on the other hand, worked down at the auto shop – all except Kayla, who had no particular useful skills. Not my words, Trey’s.

I was at another junkyard, strolling through the turns, taking my time to analyze just how damaged the cars were. It wasn’t like I was going to do anything with them; it was just fascinating to see the similarities between an old beat-up Toyota and myself. Cars could burn, get crushed, lose their parts, lose their exterior appearance, and yet somehow, they’d still be standing there, completely transformed, but not dissipated in thin air. I guess there were other objects that could also withstand adversity, but my preference was cars.

Anyway, the dog was in a Peugeot, without any doors at all, and a sloping hood. The car was trapped in between two other cars – not quite as beat-up. The accident looked fairly recent, and the only reason I’d gone down the path was to fulfill my curiosity at how it could possibly have happened, as they looked totally joined.

I was staring down at the car bumper, when I heard a soft whimper. Now, normally, I was the one making those sounds, so I jumped a little. And then, as I began to make my way out, I heard it again. I should have kept walking, but I thought of how Fitch could have kept walking, twice, and I decided against it.

It was difficult to maneuver right to the back windshield, as a Honda and a VW bug were practically crushing the car. I climbed up on top of the Peugeot – making sure that the guard at the front gate was still asleep – and climbed up through the back windshield, with my legs still hanging out.

The dog’s dark eyes studied me for a second, and then it whined. I couldn’t tell what was wrong at first, but a closer look showed me the lopsided hood of the car, pressing down the drivers’ seat, so that the dog was trapped underneath the seat. I knew it couldn’t have been in the accident; no one would leave an Anatolian Shepherd in a beat-up car; they’re bred all the way in Turkey, for one, and for another, they’re supposed to be guardian dogs. It’d just be plain stupid.

“Hey,” I said, patting its head softly, “I’m going to get you out, okay?” I didn’t know how, but I knew I couldn’t leave it there.

I’d once had a dog when I was eleven; when I lived with Suze and Greg. I was still devastated by Annie and Harold’s death, and even though I barely understood it, having Perry the Boston terrier in my life seemed to make things only slightly better. But, Perry was old, and I guess you can pretty much figure out the rest of that story.

I climbed out of the car, and with my sweatshirt as collateral, I assured the dog I’d be back. I made my way out through the front of the yard – I had a feeling that if I told the junk yard security guard that there was a dog in one of the cars, he’d call the pound, no questions asked. But, that was kind of like sticking a person in a group home, unable to roam the streets as much as they’d have liked. As safer as the pound may have been, it seemed a little unfair. I ran down the street, to the auto shop, receiving odd stares on the way; I was fairly accustomed to them, so it didn’t particularly affect me.

I walked in through the side door of the auto shop and made my way through the line of cars, down to the back room. What was it with me and cars? Honestly!

“Chloe!” Trey exclaimed, as I walked in. I could understand his surprise, since they barely ever saw me. I tried not to eat too much of their food, unless I was completely starved – it just seemed rude and unfair; I mean, I hadn’t paid for any of it. Which meant, the only times they saw me was after my morning shower, or sometimes, when I needed the toilet.