“Man, I sure am glad to be out of downtown.” Roger said to his dog, Lorn, as he rubbed his head.
Roger didn’t know if a dog show got robbed or what, but about a month ago pedigreed dogs had started showing up at his old camp under the highway downtown. It had always been crowded there – the city he lived in was in the middle of a cost of living crisis and a lot of people were bunking out on the streets – but the dogs had been getting out of control while the people had been vanishing.
About a week ago, a pedigreed looking German Shepard had wandered into Roger’s tent and started whining. Roger had tried to ask the dude in the neighboring tent if he knew whose dog it was, only to find the tent empty. A year ago that would have been strange, but the rumor going around the camp was that the police were picking people up and bussing them to another city on the other side of the country.
That was just like politicians – rather than fixing the housing problem, they were just making it someone else’s problem.
Roger didn’t want a dog, but the German Shepard just kept following him around. It even followed him into one of the nearby tents, whining and pawing at a pillow, under which had been a wallet with a wad of cash in it. Roger could remember the look on its face – it looked so happy to have found the wallet, then almost sad when he took the cash out of it and tossed it aside. It was certainly a weird dog, but it bought its own lunch, so Roger decided to name it Lorn and he let it stick around.
And with all the stray dogs and police induced disappearances, Roger made another choice – he packed up his stuff and started heading out of town.
Roger didn’t get far before the weight of all of his worldly possessions hanging from his back tired him out, and by early afternoon he decided to take a break, slumping down against an abandoned building while Lorn laid down at side. He pat his dog’s head. For some reason, it was scratching at the dirt. Roger thought it almost looked like it was making words. ‘Hep me’.
He shook his head, chuckling. Roger had drunk some rubbing alcohol the other day when he couldn’t make money panhandling and had the weirdest hallucinations for hours. He laid out his sleeping bag, deciding it might be best to nap it off. Didn’t want to walk into traffic! A few blankets later, and the side of the building was looking much more comfortable.
Content in his new spot, Roger had barely nodded off when he was startled awake by the feeling of something heavy impacting with legs.
Shocked at the possibility that the police might be kicking him awake, Roger placed a firm hand on Lorn’s neck and quickly glanced about to see if he was in danger. Fortunately for him, it quickly became apparent what had happened as Roger noticed a tall, somewhat obese young man stumbling away from him.
From the look of the kid’s sweat stained t-shirt, which barely covered his fat, hairy stomach, it was evident that this guy wasn’t a cop – he was just some unlucky passerby who had happened to trip over Roger’s outstretched legs.
“Hey! I’m trying to sleep here!” Roger shouted.
The man spun around and gave Roger an angry glare before reaching behind himself and seeming to grab something from his back pocket. Roger braced himself, concerned that this stranger might be reaching for a knife or a gun, but relaxed when the man pulled out what looks like a small perfume bottle.
“What are you? Some kind of weird pussy? Going to spray me with your cologne? Spray yourself, freak, you smell like a goddamned skunk took a shit on you!” Roger continued to shout at the man. And he wasn’t even lying. It took a second for the smell to hit hose nose, but the dude that tripped over him smelled like he hadn’t bathed in a long time.
That last bit must have really hit home with the man, since he froze up and just stared at Roger, as if pondering something.
“You want to get fucked up? Come spray me with that shit!”
The man started to back away.
“That’s right, get out of here! Otherwise I’ll fuck you like a bitch, then give Lorn a shot at you too!” Roger yelled as he gestured to his dog.
Roger didn’t know if he was giving off a crazy homeless dude vibe or what, but a weird smile came over the man’s face as he turned and ran off towards a nearby body shop.
“Gotta get out of this shit city…” Roger thought to himself as Lorn pressed back into his side and he drifted to sleep.