“They killed my dog,” she states in a flat voice. “They had no right to put Axel down. I was locked up, but the least someone could of done was let me know. It weren’t my fault I went off my meds. I ran out of money and they locked me up and they killed my damn dog!” Doris starts weeping softly.
The other customers at the outdoor coffee bar ignore her, but I look on, fascinated. “Why did they lock you up?” I ask.
“I got a little crazy,” she replies.
I nod understandingly.
Doris and I had just met. She is attractive in a frazzled way; thin, with long white hair in braids and a hippy-era dress. She sits at the table next to me and continues to talk. “I used to run a pool hall outside of Fort Benning. All the GI’s liked to come there and shoot pool. Me and my son; we worked hard seven days a week. We did good.”
“Were both of you pool sharks?” I ask.
“Oh yeah! Especially my son. He could take them GI’s every time. And he had a pool cue signed by Willie Nelson. It was special.”
“What happened with your dog?” I ask.
“I was locked up with all the crazies in Bryce Hospital. It weren’t nothing new; I had been locked up before. But this time, someone told animal control I abandoned Axel. They were full of shit! He slept outside the house, and my neighbor gave him food and water. Axel knew I would be back. When I found out they had him, I called to bail him out, but they didn’t care. I would have sold my Jesus-loving soul to save him, but they paid me no mind and put him down. She starts to cry again.
“That sucks,” I say. “I bet Axel really loved you.”
She nods and looks into the distance. Her eyes close, and she softly begins to sing a hymn - perhaps, a prayer for poor Axel, an unwitting victim of the voices in her head.
— opelikakat
The other customers at the outdoor coffee bar ignore her, but I look on, fascinated. “Why did they lock you up?” I ask.
“I got a little crazy,” she replies.
I nod understandingly.
Doris and I had just met. She is attractive in a frazzled way; thin, with long white hair in braids and a hippy-era dress. She sits at the table next to me and continues to talk. “I used to run a pool hall outside of Fort Benning. All the GI’s liked to come there and shoot pool. Me and my son; we worked hard seven days a week. We did good.”
“Were both of you pool sharks?” I ask.
“Oh yeah! Especially my son. He could take them GI’s every time. And he had a pool cue signed by Willie Nelson. It was special.”
“What happened with your dog?” I ask.
“I was locked up with all the crazies in Bryce Hospital. It weren’t nothing new; I had been locked up before. But this time, someone told animal control I abandoned Axel. They were full of shit! He slept outside the house, and my neighbor gave him food and water. Axel knew I would be back. When I found out they had him, I called to bail him out, but they didn’t care. I would have sold my Jesus-loving soul to save him, but they paid me no mind and put him down. She starts to cry again.
“That sucks,” I say. “I bet Axel really loved you.”
She nods and looks into the distance. Her eyes close, and she softly begins to sing a hymn - perhaps, a prayer for poor Axel, an unwitting victim of the voices in her head.
— opelikakat
Oh, very sad, with touches of wry...something. ---Macoff
ReplyDeleteSo well drawn. I love her Jesus loving soul......
ReplyDeleteThis broke my heart. Such a violation. (lkai)
ReplyDeleteI didn't know her but she went to my high school.She looked so completely ordinary in her annual photo.
ReplyDelete