Duality

< T H R E E >

© Amber Kalkes 2014

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"I Am A Revenant" By The Distillers

< T H R E E >

This is most likely a terrible, terrible idea. Honestly, on a scale of one to ten it was past a five on the stupid idea scale but…I couldn’t stop myself. Something about that sick old bastards smile made my skin crawl and that shock collar just made it worse. I’m not sure what exactly that guy decides to do with it but I’m suspicious so I’m doing the only rational thing.

I’m following him home.

Cause that’s not creepy at all.

Since old man Merchant likes to walk home, despite hobbling around all the time it’s been fairly easy keeping up with him. When he veers into the woods I keep my distance and since he seems a bit hard of hearing I don’t think he’s noticed me. The more annoying aspect is of course that he keeps whistling ‘Oh Danny Boy’ over and over as he walks as a sloth’s pace.

After about an hour later, four cigarettes on my part and a billion loops of that stupid fucking song over and over we reach his home. It’s a small cabin, a little too Unabomber for my taste but whatever. Mr. Merchant walks into his cabin to drop the stuff off and I take the time to climb into a nearby tree so I can watch for anything odd.

Now I’ll admit my rash behavior may seem odd to you. Sure he was an asshole to me at the store and he was admittedly creepy as all hell but that doesn’t mean I should be following him home right? Yeah, maybe you’re right but on the other hand this is part of my personality.

I’ve always been a protector of underdogs in general, literal animal or not. If this guy really did have a dog and lets say my suspicions on him being an abusive owner were correct, I would have no choice but to act. My inability to not act has gotten in my fair share of brawls through my life.

Whether it was dumping blue paint on Casey Hall in eighth grade when she made Sarah…something I can’t remember, cry by teasing her about her parent’s divorce. Whether it was using my fists, like my cousin Jake taught me, to beat up some stupid guy for kicking some homeless guys dog, his only family, before telling him to get it ‘that stupid flea bag’ put down. Or whether it came down to something stupid as following some town scrooge home, I always felt the need to set things right in my own way.

Even if doing so meant I was most likely breaking some law of some sort.

But technicalities are boring.

About fifteen minutes later and one nearly asleep ass the man himself hobbles out of his cabin and towards the back of the house. As I’m watching I narrow my eyes as a series of growls and snarls come from some broken down looking chicken coop. So he does have a dog, I feel slightly less crazy knowing that at least. A few more snarls echo through the woods before I hear a zapping sound followed by a yelp.

That son of a—

“Stupid, Mutt.” The piece of shit yells at the dog before going into a coughing fit that sounded like his lung was about to pop out. He suddenly spits on the ground and wipes his mouth on his sleeve before zapping the dog a second time with what looks to be a…cattle prod? How sick is this guy? “Two days you got left before I send you on your next fight. You’ll make a good wad of cash for me just like last time or you’ll be punished, get it?”

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Was this guy putting this poor animal in dogfights?

For money?