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Authors: T.A. Hardenbrook

Running Home (4 page)

BOOK: Running Home
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“Hey girl
; big night!” Roxy squealed as she walked into the dressing room.

“Yeah
, guess so,” I mumbled, as I bent down and slipped the ridiculously tall shoes on. “Are you nervous? Because, you totally shouldn’t be; you’ve got some great skills up there on the pole, and your costume is absolutely spankin’ tonight!”

Glancing in the mirror
, I stared at my reflection. Yep, it was official, I was now a stripper. Pole swinging, glitter wearing, rhinestone studded exotic dancer.
Won’t Grams be so proud of me now
I thought to myself, as I slid on my glasses and forced a smile on my face.

“Good luck out there
tonight ,Carmen. FYI, there is some big tippers sitting to the left of the stage,” Roxy said with a smile, as she pulled on her next outfit of choice.

I just had to
tolerate the sleaziness through two songs; that was it. Hopefully, no one asked for a private dance tonight, because I don’t know how my nerves would hold up being that close to a paying customer. It’s not like I am a prude, shit back in high school I would try anything once, if not twice. I wasn’t the town virgin, more like the town floosy, and it never bothered me then. So, why is it so hard for me to take my clothes off now, and do a little dance to some regulars and out of townies tonight? Smearing on one last coat of lip-gloss on my already caked, colored lips, I tried to shake the nerves out of my system as I headed to the back of the stage.

“Well,
here goes nothing.”

I
peeked my head out while the lights were still low. “Crap,” I mumbled to myself, staring at the packed house.

“Gentleme
n we have a special treat for you all tonight. Making her very first debut at The Bunny Bungalow is Daisy Mae!” the announcer yelled over the intercom system. I had to snort when I heard my name being called. Tradition was, if you were new to the business, then the older girls got to pick your name. Coming from a small town they automatically started to call me Daisy Mae the things I do for more money.

The lights turned blue and started to shine the stage in the deep hue, and the intro of “Those Shoes” from The Eagles started to play through the speakers.
Well, here goes nothing,
I thought, as I stepped on to the stage. 

 

I couldn’t stop shaking, as I gathered my clothes and bills from the stage.
Holy shit,
I finally did it, I thought as I walked off the stage. Scampering to the dressing room, I tossed my stuff on the counter and grabbed a satin baby doll slip off my clothing rack, slipping it over my head as I tried to calm my nerves down. I had finally taken that plunge; the one I swore to myself I wouldn’t do, when I got the job serving here. Glancing at the pile of cash on the counter and knowing the stage guys cleaned the rest of it up and had it waiting for me up front, seemed to make the situation okay for the time being. I hung up my costume on the rack, and set out to count the tips I managed to scoop up before exiting the stage.

“Girl
, that was something fierce,” Diamond exclaimed, while rushing over to give me a hug.

“I almost fell flat on my ass in my fairy spin
,” I whined and went to fold the cash to stuff into my locker.

“Yeah
, but no one noticed. Shit, you do that a couple nights a week, and those boobs are as good as yours in no time.”

I turn
ed the dial to the lock, and stuffed the cash into the metal prison. Slamming the door shut, I let out a small sigh. If my calculations were right, and math was never my strong suite, it would take me only four months to pay for my chest in full. Totally do-able, if I just kept this act up it was bound to get easier stepping out on that stage,
right?

“What song are you do
ing later tonight?” Diamond asked, as she slipped into another stage outfit.

“Um….Shaking Hands.”

“Like the Nickleback song?”

“Yeah,” I chuckled, as I took a baby wipe and started cleaning the layer of sweat and glitter that was covering my skin.

“Oh good lord
, little girl, that song is hot! I’m sure you’re going to get top dollar from everyone tonight,” she said with a smile, while leaving the room.

There was no way I would make
much; I only had two slots, while the other girls had four or six songs. After counting my cash earlier, I knew I made a good haul for the first time I worked the pole in public, and I planned on raking in more with the second song and my leather get up. Maybe this was my calling; “Daisy Mae”: the fantastic and amazing stripper. Yep, I can see my name in lights now; even if it was on the score board of strip clubs. I was going to be huge!

“Dirt Road Anthem” Jason Aldean

Walker

 

“Seriously, man. We have done nothing for the last couple weeks, except sit here and play Halo on our nights off,” Derek whined, as he opened the fridge to forage for something to eat. I shrugged my shoulders and went back to the game; I was on a killing spree, and had no intention of stopping.

“Triple Kill” the television called out
, as Derek slammed a cupboard door shut.

“You realize you don’t even have any food in your apartment right?”

“Why would I need it? Mom’s shop is downstairs; just write down whatever you take, so she knows what to mark off on the list when I get to paying her each month,” I mentioned not taking my eyes off the screen.

It had been a long couple
of months in the academy. Fucking hard work, but I graduated top of my class and was instantly hired on by the local department. Sheriff Ramsey took an immediate liking to me at the department, and since we were such a small group, things happened a little faster for me then if I would have been hired on in a larger county. Like there was ever any doubt that I wouldn’t be working for them; it was my dream since I was four, and everyone in town knew it. Basically, I had everything going for me; a job with advancement opportunities, my own place above Mom’s cafe, and some new friends from training. I was living a great life, even if it was still broken from Carmen walking out on me. Girls are nothing but trouble. But shit, I would give anything for a specific trouble making one to walk back into my life again.

 

 

I pull
ed into the station and parked my patrol car in the designated spot. Grabbing my hat from the passenger seat, I climbed out and opened the back door for my search and rescue dog Waylon to hop out. “Let’s go boy,” I said while shutting the door and heading over to the back entrance to the station.

Punching in the code to the lock on the back door
, I motioned for Waylon to head inside as he barreled down the hallway for the front desk. The ladies who answer the phones always had treats for the little mooch, and he would lay behind their counter all day, basking in the love and attention they showered upon him. Life was easy being a dog; eat, sleep, and maybe do a little work. He only went out on calls with me maybe once every other month, and the other times he spent being lazy in the office. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job this is all I’ve ever wanted to do in life but there was always that little voice in the back of my mind yelling, that I was settling. There was never much excitement in this town, and I knew that from the beginning. Thinking of Carmen living in the city, amongst all the activity, made me a little jealous of her, being able to just up and leave this place.  I wouldn’t leave the small town life for the big city world. I just had to accept the slower pace of this town. This was my future, and I needed to accept it.

 

 

“Hey Mason, the review board wants to head out and run some drills with Waylon this morning. Can you be ready in fifteen?”
Sheriff Ramsey announced as he walked into the backroom.

“Not a problem
, Sheriff,” I said, as I shuffled through some paperwork on my already crowded desk.

“Where is that mutt
, anyway?”

“I think Gloria brought in doughnuts this morning
,” I snickered, while Sheriff Ramsey shook his head. Some dogs were rewarded with ropes, balls, and maybe even something squeaky. Not Waylon. The only way that dog was ever going to do anything, was with food. He almost didn’t make it through training, and to be completely honest, I was panicked when the department placed us together.

No one wanted that dog, and I just happened to be with Sheriff Ramsey one day at the training facility
, talking with other officers, when that big brown chocolate fur ball took a liking to me. How was it that I always attracted the misfits; the ones who didn’t seem to just have it all completely together in life? I loved watching the trainers put the dogs through their paces, and thought it was the path I hoped to travel down in the future. I wanted to have my own dog. I valued that type of partnership a handler had with his K-9 companion. Little did I know my partnership with Waylon would come unexpectedly so soon. Around the kennels, people referred to this dog as a ‘slug’ he had a nose for searching, but nothing seemed to motivate him. I started spending more of my free time with the trainers and other officers, trying to soak up as much knowledge as I possibly could, and of course, whenever they had Waylon out that dog seemed to gravitate toward me. It wasn’t until I accidently had a granola bar stuffed in my pocket one morning, did it finally click that all he wanted was food. Shit, if I didn’t keep my pocket filled with tasty morsels for the creature, we couldn’t get him off his bed each day. I’m betting that’s why, when they went to place him in a county office, ours being so slow, was the only way he wouldn’t be a failure on the job. Not to mention, we didn’t have the funds to support a complete graduate of the K-9 course; hence the ‘almost’ drop outs came at a reduced cost, or free like Waylon.

 

 

“Waylon, let’s go to work
, Buddy,” I called to the dog, as I walked up the narrow hallway to the front office. I heard the ladies laugh, and I’m betting it was at my stubborn dog still laying on his bed.

“Waylon,
come,” I demanded as he lifted his head off the bed, only to immediately drop it back down again.

“I’m sorry Walker, he just took two doughnuts from the box Leanne had on her desk
.” Gloria laughed, giving me a meek smile.  That dog was the worst dog in the entire world. No wonder why no one on the force wanted to work with him.

“Waylon
kommen,” I barked again. Eventually this dog was going to listen to me. I reached into my pocket, which I recently stuffed full with little sausage treats, and tossed one just a few feet in front of his bed. I was sure he was up even before the treat hit the ground, wagging his chocolate brown tail back and forth, waiting as if he deserved another for standing up. Quickly, I walked over and clipped on a long leash. “Let’s go mutt,” I muttered under my breath, while pulling him down the hallway to the back door.

“Good luck
!” Gloria called down the hallway after us.

Yep
, luck was something that we needed desperately. In the few short months since we had been paired up and ‘graduated’ from training he had only ever been on one search and rescue call. Waylon tracked like a seasoned pro, but the search had been called off a couple hours in, when old mister Johnson was found taking a nap in the hayloft of his barn. Yep, I needed a ton of luck to get through the next couple hours with the board and county commissioners or maybe just a dog who would listen for more than thirty seconds. Either way, I knew this morning was going to be a long one. Hopefully, I had enough little sausages to keep this creature engaged with the task at hand.

 

 

Pulling up to
the training facility, which a couple counties shared, I noticed Sheriff Ramsey and a couple of the city’s commissioners were already waiting next to a staging area.

“Waylon
, listen buddy, we need to make it work today. The county pays for your meals, mutt, so we need to make sure they are getting their money’s worth,” I warned the critter sitting in the back seat of the patrol car. Waylon didn’t even sit up in his seat as I turned the car off. “Please, just make it work today,” I mumbled, while climbing out of the car and opening the back door to get the mutt. Clipping the long line on his collar, I gave a gentle tug on the lead to pull the beast out of the car. He met it with little resistance, as he clambered out of the backseat, automatically going into a sitting position as I shut the door and adjusted the lead in my left hand. Looking down at Waylon, I offered a little smile to the dog; at least he looked good getting out of the car, if nothing else, today.

“Waylon
kommen,” I command, heading over to the gentleman and Sheriff standing a few yards away.

“Morning
, Officer Mason,” one of the commissioners offered, as he stuck out his hand to greet me.

I stop
ped a couple feet in front of them and gave the hand signal for a sit and stay to Waylon. I held my breath, as he followed suite flawlessly, then extended my hand to the waiting commissioner. “Thank you for taking the time to see us today,” I exclaimed, while giving a small smile to Sheriff Ramsey.

I could tell he was crossing his fingers today
, too; it would be a horrible situation if the funding to keep a tracking dog was cut from the department. Even if Waylon was lazy, he still did the job, for the most part. I trusted that dog when he actually got down to business, and not having him on the force would be a devastating blow to our community.

“We are just waiting on Mayor Turnbill then we can get started
,” Sheriff Ramsey exclaimed.

“What type of drills are we running this morning
, sir?”

“Live search and rescue
, and several different object recoveries are on the agenda today,” he replied.

I nodded my head
, and took the opportunity to excuse myself from the group and wander a couple yards away to see if I could spark some excitement into Waylon. “Alright Buddy, ready to work?” I asked in an enthusiastic voice I picked up in the weeks we spent training together. Waylon glanced up and gave a yawn. Shit, this isn’t looking good for us. Dropping to my knees I grab either side of the mutts face, “Please buddy, do this for me, today.” I started to panic when I heard a car crunch down the gravel driveway behind us. Letting out a huge sigh, I reached into my pocket and presented Waylon with a little treat. Sending up a silent prayer, I stood and tightened my grip on the lead. “Kommen,” I commanded him, as we walked back over to the join the group.

 

 

Apparently
, the gods above us were looking down on our little team today, because we have never performed better than what we just demonstrated. The live search was the first task we encountered this morning. Sheriff had another officer dress in street clothes and head a few miles out into the surrounding wooded area earlier this morning, so the scent was still somewhat fresh for Waylon to pick up. Giving him the verbal command to search, after I slipped on the long line, we headed out into the area looking like professionals. I couldn’t wipe the stupid smirk off my face as Waylon correctly executed a search pattern. This dog wasn’t dumb; just severely lazy.

Around the half hour mark
, I noticed subtle changes in Waylon’s behavior. His search path was getting smaller and he had recognized a stronger scent that the officer took earlier. I knew we had hit gold when he started to bark, telling us the subject had been located. Stepping out from around a bush Officer Grant gave Waylon a pat, and a wave to Sheriff Ramsey who stood twenty feet away with a shit eating grin across his face.

“Good boy
!” I shouted at Waylon, praising the mutt for his amazing job. Waylon calmly placed himself into the sitting position, waiting for the treat he knew was coming.

“Does that dog get excited for anything?” Mayor
Turnbill asked, as I slipped Waylon several more of his favorite snack.

“Not really
, sir, but the way to his heart is through his stomach.”

“Well
, that holds true for all the male species,” the Mayor laughed, as he reached down to pat Waylon on the head. I have always had faith in this dog hell, I knew he was lazy, but he would get the job done when needed. Now all we had to do was locate some hidden objects, and we would be home free for the rest of the afternoon. I glanced back down at Waylon who was now flopped down on the forest floor. “Kommen,” I called. He shifted his eyes up toward my direction, and then quickly closed them again. “I’m not carrying you out of here, Buddy, let’s go,” I demanded, as I clipped a normal leash on his collar. So much for us looking professional today the lazy mutt strikes out again.

 

 

The rest of the afternoon was spent entertaining the Mayor and his followers. Luckily
, Waylon kept going drill after drill. Even when the treats ran out, he still managed to impress the small crowd. The entire time, I prayed he wouldn’t check out, because I knew it wouldn’t have ended well for my new career if I couldn’t keep this darn dog engaged in the activity he was purchased for. “You ready to head home, boy?” I asked the chocolate lab sprawled out in the back seat of my patrol car.

Waylon didn’t
even stir when I mentioned home normally that dog was bounding up and down at the thought of heading out. He was an easy roommate at my apartment over mom’s shop. Even using the doggy door I installed to let himself out when he needed to. I didn’t worry about him running off; he never strayed far away from his food bowl most of the time, anyway. If he wasn’t in the apartment, I would always find him lying out by the backdoor of the cafe, just waiting for my mom to toss him a tasty treat. This dog was the closest thing I had to a best friend now, and, in reality, that was all I needed. He didn’t complain or talk back. I knew he wouldn’t run away and break my heart. This dog was the best thing that had happened to me since graduation.

BOOK: Running Home
3.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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