Read The Goat Page 33


  “He said he’ll keep looking.”

  “Keep looking? It’s been three hours and he’ll keep looking?”

  “Look, you had nothing, now I have something: a man working on it. Don’t yell at me, I’m trying.”

  “Ladies, can you keep it down. Some of us are trying to sleep,” Frank said.

  “Shut up, mutt.”

  Frank rolled over from his belly and started growling. Basil didn’t back down. “And you, where would you be without me at this point? Almost to Montreal and nowhere! What were you going to do, build smoke signals for your tribe? Get a giant goat call?” Basil crossed his arms and turned to the window. “Ungrateful.”

  “This man has my family,” the goat pulled the picture from his pocket. In his haste he accidentally spilled Basil’s badge onto the seat.

  Basil looked at him, wounded.

  “You wanted me to help you? And you were holding out on me? I thought you lost my badge? It was here all the time?”

  “I’m sorry, I guess I forgot what was going on and didn’t give it back. It wasn’t intentional.”

  “I don’t know why I’m even listening to you. You wanted my help. You made the deal. I should have just cuffed you last night and started home. Left your family to die and rot.”

  Basil bit his tongue.

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  Sparky pulled the car over. “Get out Basil. No deal,” he leaned over across the man and opened the door.

  “You can’t dump me. I’m your only lead!”

  “I don’t need you.”

  Basil started to get out, but then stopped. “This is my car. You get out.”

  Sparky’s eyes were thin and glossy. “No, you should leave now. This is your only chance to walk away.”

  Basil put up his hands in defeat. “I’m sorry, I was upset. That’s not what I meant to say.”

  “Well you said it, and I just don’t have any more time for you. They need me. You don’t.”

  “You’re going to dump me on the freeway?” Cars zoomed by. It was late afternoon and traffic was picking up. Basil felt the cold sting of the autumn air. “I’ll hunt you down.”

  “Not if you know what’s good for you.”

  Basil retreated from the car, holding his badge in his hands. “Look, I didn’t mean anything by it. I can really help you.”

  “You’ve been great, Basil. I’ll make sure and let anyone else that tries to get rich off of me know that they need to contact you first.”

  “Pimp-man!” Frank screamed from the back seat. “Pimp-man!” He jumped into the front and took over the man’s spot. “Shut the door, pimp-man!”

  Basil was straining to find the words he wanted to say, but it was hard for him to find a genuine reason. He couldn’t bring himself to grips with whether or not he really did like the goat, or if he simply wanted to get rich off of him. Until he was once again at the roadside without the means to get anywhere, he really hadn’t thought that it mattered.

  “Shut the door, pimp-man,” Sparky said.

  Basil closed the door. Lost in thought, he really didn’t know what was going on. Was he being abandoned a second time? He stood motionless for a moment, expecting the door to open.

  As the car sped away, Basil looked back down at his belongings. He consoled himself that even without the goat, he had his credentials. He wasn’t stranded naked at the roadside this time. He felt his pocket; the phone was also still there.

  He flipped his badge over and found that the picture of Reilly was stuck to the back. The face was familiar. It was hazy to him, and he was still stung about being kicked out and betrayed. Basil scratched his head, looking at the picture. Reilly. Reilly. It was almost chanting in his head.

  The answer hit him so hard he almost fell down. The city sign was there to catch him. He read the giant letters. They had reached Montreal, the goat had reached his destination. Basil should have walked away, but looking down at the picture he realized he wasn’t about to let him get away twice.

  Basil dialed madly.

  “Tony, I need your help.”

  “Hola, Coma estas?”

  Basil closed the phone, wrong number. He opened it again and redialed more carefully. “This is Tony.”

  “Tony, I need your help.”

  Chapter 93

  “You were right to get rid of him. He was going to destroy you. He wanted you to be famous and fame destroys everybody, especially animals,” Frank had wasted no time in preaching about society, once again the resident expert on humans.

  “Yeah, well I didn’t want it anyway.”

  “You’re better off, goat. We should make a pact. No more humans. They are all bad, every last one of them.”

  “Not all of them, Frank.”

  Frank settled more comfortably into the seat. “You think it’s you? You think you did this?”

  “I don’t know.” Sparky exhaled long and slow. “I thought I was getting somewhere with him.”

  Sparky had thought that the two of them had been getting along rather well until Basil’s uncaring eruption. Sparky shouldn’t have been surprised. It was in the man’s nature. And he knew about nature. No matter what Sparky had tried to do he had not been able to resist serving justice with the animals that he had found captured. And that was his nature. Basil’s was just, something else, something selfish.

  “It wasn’t you. You, Sparks, are one of a kind. You know that. These people don’t get us. We’re better off without them.”

  Frank was comfortable with his explanation. He never questioned his own righteousness. The mutt had been through enough abuse over his lifetime to know that people weren’t good for him. Why would they be any better for a goat? “When dealing with people you just half to remember: who are you and what are you going to do for me?”

  That was how Sparky felt about people treating him with disrespect. He had to consider that maybe it was universal, even the dog had the same motto.

  “I can’t think like that. What’s to stop me from treating everyone that way?”

  “Sparks, that is why you’re one of a kind. We should get a bite while the roads are jammed.”

  Traffic was backing up. Sparky had been so caught up with Basil he hadn’t realized they were in the city. The city that he set out to reach. It was massive. So many cars in one place, Sparky became overwhelmed.

  “I don’t know how to handle all this traffic,” Sparky’s breathing picked up.

  “Calm down, it’s just like everywhere else we’ve been, just filled with more people. Like that lady.”

  He pointed into the next car. A woman was busy talking on the phone and doing something with her lips. It appeared she was applying makeup.

  “Some people.” Frank said.

  “I don’t feel right.” Sparky’s voice was low.

  Frank bobbed his head in agreement. “You do look a little pale.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “Oh, well I figured you look like you would, if you were pale. Except for the fur, I guess.”

  “Right,” Sparky tried to keep calm, but he was boxed in, surrounded by the city sounds and smells. He closed his eyes and strove to imagine the feeling of being home in the open fields and pastures. It seemed to help.

  “Maybe you’re hungry?”

  Sparky wasn’t listening; it was easier to envision the pastures. The cars faded away. He was running in the green, green grass. It was quiet except for the occasional bird chirping. His kids were bouncing on the hillside. Playing ball.

  “Sparky?”

  His breathing slowed. He saw Princess’s sweet face. She was smiling at him. His tension faded further, his muscles loosened. Princess playfully nodded toward the barn. He took a step to follow.

  “GOAT!”

  Sparky turned, shaking free the fantasy. They were still stopped in traffic. “What?”

  “Are you okay?”

  Sparky felt his stomach rumbling, “I think I need some coffee.”
>
  He never once slept and it was catching up to him.

  “You need to take a break?”

  “No, something quick. No sleep until we find my herd.”

  Frank panned, looking at the traffic. The car still hadn’t moved. “We’re not going anywhere fast and you don’t know where to go.”

  Sparky looked over and nodded, “You don’t remember anything, Frank?”

  “I’m sorry goat; it was a long time ago.”

  Chapter 94

  Sparky was buried in Basil’s files, sipping at a cup of hot coffee. Frank was busy wolfing down fifteen dollars in burgers. They were outside on the patio since most places weren’t keen on animal visitors, and Sparky was tired of arguing with Frank to stay in the car. Frank’s snout was buried in the bag, as he perched delicately on the bench.

  Sparky tilted the file down, seeing a little girl with her eyes fixed on him. She was bundled for the weather and looked rather like a pink balloon. She was standing just a few feet from the table, smiling blissfully. Sparky smiled back and tucked his head into the folder.

  There was an older couple, sitting two tables away. Their tubby grandson was stuffing his face much in the same manner as Frank. They were exchanging glances with Sparky and whispering among themselves.

  “Everybody keeps looking at me.”

  Frank nodded without slowing the pace of his eating.

  Another couple came out with their children. They all smiled when they saw him. Sparky sank in his seat. “Not a lot in here about this Reilly character. Looks like the detective knew about as much as I did.”

  Frank nodded again. Sparky looked and the dog was staring off past him. Sparky turned and saw a German Shepherd tied up on a newsstand outside the front of the restaurant. Frank had stopped eating, eyeing the other dog blankly.

  “You date?”

  Frank snapped his head. “Nah, just look.”

  “Oh well, you know, if you meet the right girl.”

  “It’s not like that. I was a pet before I could talk. I was taken care of.”

  “Taken care of?” Sparky knew a lot about the human condition, but he was not so keen on his veterinary skills.

  “Neutered.”

  “Oh dear god!” Sparky threw his hoof over his mouth. “That must be awful.”

  Frank lowered his head, looking down at the scar between his legs. “You have no idea,” the dog drove his head back into the bag. His vitality had faded with their conversation. Hidden in the bag he was protected from any more questions about his operation.

  Sparky didn’t want to know more about it, though. Another lady was standing outside the fence and staring at him. She smiled at him and waved when he noticed her. Something wasn’t right.

  “I think we should get out of here. Frank?” Sparky was keeping his mouth motions as small as possible.

  “Now you’re embarrassed because I’m nutless, huh?”

  “What? No, no, Frank these people are staring at me.”

  “Because you’re with a neutered canine. Might as well have cut off my lower half and put me in one of those little doggy carts. Add one of those hideous collars that guard my face and I’d be a complete freak-show. Maybe I could get back in the circus?”

  “Frank, look around. What do you see?”

  “Oh, that hot lady by the newsstand? The one with the sparkly collar? Yeah, I see her; no it doesn’t do me any good. Are you done yet?” Frank dropped his head on the table and covered it with his paws.

  Sparky reached out to his cohort. But Frank wouldn’t take his paws away from his eyes.

  “Look Frank, we need to go. Now.”

  “Excuse me?” A young woman was right over his shoulder. Sparky turned and was staring a camera in the face. The woman was talking in a microphone. “Can I ask you a few questions?”

  Sparky stepped back. “What is this?”

  “I’m Joanna Jenson with the Evening Edition. You’re the Goat, aren’t you?”

  “The Goat?” Sparky took another step back.

  “Yes, the Goat! You are the man that has been traveling cross country acting out against animal cruelty!”

  “No, I’m a farmer from out of town. I’m here for a Halloween party. A costume party,” he fumbled over his words.

  Joanna kept close with her microphone extended. “You’re a hero, mister! What drove you to such an extreme?”

  Sparky couldn’t speak.

  Frank stood up in his chair. “He is the goat!”

  Sparky grabbed the mutt and his stack of papers. He pushed his way past the reporter, bowling over her cameraman. They jumped out a small gate and dashed for the car. The cameraman struggled to his feet but the two were already slamming the doors shut on the Ford Escort.

  Sparky peeled out of the parking lot and rushed away.

  Chapter 95

  “Don’t panic, she didn’t say you were a real goat!”

  “Frank, they know what I look like, and whether or not I’m a real goat, it’s just a matter of time before they do.”

  “You don’t know that. They will find another story before the end of the week. That’s how news is.”

  “We need a place to hide, to stay, where people won’t see us.”

  The car next to them was almost even at the standstill in traffic. A little girl in the back seat was posted against the glass. Her face contorted.

  “Some place I can go through the rest of files without interruption.”

  “Like that?” Frank pointed his paw to a road sign.

  Sparky leaned down and read the billboard. Val-You Motel, Three Kilometers Ahead, Pets Welcome. “Perfect,” he said.

  ~~~~~~

  They pulled in quietly to the motel and parked the car.

  “Just wait here,” Sparky instructed. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Get two beds, I’m not sharing with you!”

  He adjusted his coat collar and buttoned himself up. The entrance to the motel office was covered in little webs and fake black spiders. Orange paper cut into jack-o-lanterns were taped to the glass door. Upon entering, a slew of bells jangled. A short dark skinned man was sitting behind a sheet of glass watching TV. He didn’t turn around to speak.

  “You need one room or two?”

  It took him a moment to answer the question. “One.”

  “You have pets?”

  “Yes.” He was glued to the TV. Sparky tried not to get too close to the counter in case he turned.

  “We only take cash. One room and pets, you pay seventy dollars up front or you won’t stay here.”

  Sparky froze as the man spun about, sizing him up. His fame would spoil him. He would not get service. This employee would ask him questions that he didn’t want to answer, before calling the news people in on him, and finally the police.

  “You got money or are you posing for a trench-coat commercial?”

  Sparky started digging around in his pocket. The wadded bills came loose as the screen changed.

  “This is Joanna Jenson with a breaking report on Evening Edition. Just minutes ago we briefly tried to catch an interview with a man known only as the Goat. Some say he is a monster; half-man half-goat. But this reporter and others know that this man simply uses a disguise to protect his identity.”

  Sparky slowly pulled the money from his pocket. “Um, how much did you say again?”

  The screen flashed to the young lady sticking the microphone in his face. Sparky watched the scene replay as he slowly laid the bill on the counter.

  “What’s up with your hand, eh?”

  “Excuse me, can I ask you a few questions?” The TV played on. Sparky watched as the camera caught every detail of his face, every angle.

  “This is large money. You’re not a vigilante killer or something?”

  “No, of course not.”

  The man handed him his change and turned to the TV just as the interview footage ended with the car speeding off. The camera had missed Frank screaming out, even thoug
h it could be heard as an off camera voice. Sparky watched as his face was blown up and posted next to the talking reporter who was standing at the restaurant he had just left.

  The report concluded with the woman stating they would not rest until they get all the details for their viewers. Sparky sighed as he was handed the key through the small hole in the glass.

  “So, what’s with the hand?”

  “Oh, I was born that way,” Sparky was half in a trance.

  “Must be tough,” the man groaned, turning back to his television. The previous show was back on, and along with it the hollow laughter that seemed followed every line.

  Chapter 96

  “This is incredible. I got left out of the entire picture!”

  Sparky almost fell off the edge of the bed. “What? Since when was it okay to talk in public?”

  “Says the guy who is getting all the media attention. I am not even an afterthought. Goat this, goat that. Where is Frank the dog wonder? Where’s my fifteen minutes of fame?” Frank’s excitement agitated the persisting fleas. He went in for the kill with his snout near his back leg.

  “I thought you said that fame destroys everyone.” Sparky tried to recall Franks exact words. “Especially animals, right?”

  “That was just angry talk. That camera. Those people. It started a warm feeling in my tummy.”

  “Weren’t you also the one afraid of being taken away and chopped up for science?”

  Frank scratched under his arms with his mouth, gnawing his loose skin. He rolled over and dug his head into a pillow.

  “Look, Frank, we’re more public than ever. This is exactly what we have been trying to avoid.”

  Frank didn’t emerge from under the pillow. “Always thinking of yourself, goat! What about my feelings?”

  “What about your feelings?”

  “What if I wanted to be public? What if I wanted to be a face?” Frank’s voice was about as pathetic as he could get it. Years of adoring humans had taught him how to sculpt a whine.

  “You told me that you wanted to avoid exposing ourselves to people, you and I both agreed. Why the change of heart?”

  Frank sprang up on two legs and bounced on the bed. “The other night, at the club, I was somebody. Somebody special. I felt like a champion! It felt great to be someone like that, to have a good talk with good people.”

  “You were a midget in costume to anyone who asked. You can’t do that all the time. Just like I can’t always be a man in a dark coat and hat, or a goat Halloween costume, you have to face that this isn’t a place for us Frank. No matter how much you want it.” Sparky sighed. “Besides Frank, this is a rescue mission, this isn’t for fame or recognition.”