Chapter 2

Jack Sims eased his car into the company parking lot, wincing as the tires bounced roughly over a high spot in the pavement. Damn, I must have got drunk last night, he thought, trying not to move his aching head. Half remembered images of the party flickered through his mind, but much more sharp were his recollections of that sexual debacle with Angela after they got home.

What the hell was the matter with him? he asked himself bitterly. Two years they had gone together, having no trouble making love, and now, all of a sudden, this. Like most men, Jack hated to put the blame for sexual inadequacy on himself, and had been looking for some time for a way to lay at least some of it on his wife, and, little by little, he was beginning to be successful, at least in his own mind. She just made him feel so... so... tense. No wonder he couldn't hold it back.

And maybe there was a little boredom in the whole thing, too. As a young man, Jack had had a dizzying succession of women, but now, for something like three years the only woman he'd slept with was Angela. Not that she wasn't worth sleeping with, he thought ruefully. Hell, he'd never found a more beautiful woman, no one who turned on more in bed. For just an instant, a faint thought flickered in the back of Jack's mind, a thought perhaps too close to the truth for him to really let live long. Thinking of his wife's passionate responses to his love-making stirred up some old fear, a subtle feeling that somehow she was threatening something in him, in his manhood, and, for a moment, Jack knew he probably had the key, but then it was gone, pushed from his memory by automatic mental defenses. And, besides that, having parked the car, the young man was now entering the plant, and, once in the plant, he tried never to let anything but work occupy his mind. He was ambitious, and felt this was the right way to get ahead.

Jack had taken a degree in mechanical engineering and now worked in the drafting office of a large successful corporation. The job wasn't too high paying, but plenty of other young men would have been happy to be in his place, because the company promoted only from within its own ranks and Jack knew that, if he stuck it out, before long he would be working in the engineering department.

As soon as he sat down at his drafting table, the young up-and-comer knew it was a mistake to go to parties the night before a work day. His head swam and his belly shuddered as he forced himself to begin working. But his determination paid off, because, by noon, his immersion in his work had made him feel a lot better. Going to the company cafeteria, Jack sat down next to one of his closest friends in the plant, Harry Thompson, a man several years older, feeling a lot better than he had a right to.

"Well, if it isn't Al Jolson himself," Harry said. Harry had also been at the party last night.

"I was as bad as all that?" Jack asked ruefully.

"I didn't think you were bad at all. I was far enough gone myself to enjoy your little act. Too bad your wife broke it up, though."

"Oh?" said Jack, honestly not remembering.

"Yeah, when you started to do the striptease," and Harry started to laugh boisterously, but then stopped and grimaced in pain. "Oh Christ, my head," he moaned. "Hey, what was Angela moaning about to my wife last night, anyhow?"

"Angela?" Jack asked in alarm. Christ, if she had been yapping about their bed problems to Myra Thompson, it would be all over town by tonight. "Well, who knows," he added quickly. "You know how women are... or do you? I sure as hell don't. Does any man?"

Jack was a little unhappy with himself that he was unable to keep the exasperation out of his voice. That should be a dead giveaway to Harry that he and Angela were having problems. But Harry just kept on chewing his food, a thoughtful look coming over his big, good-natured face.

"How long you been married?" he finally asked.

"About a year," Jack said cautiously, not knowing what Harry was getting at.

"You know, I been married nearly ten," Harry said, the words a little muffled as he continued to eat. "Had some trouble with the wife the first year or two. Tears, moods, the whole disaster. Took me a little while to figure out the reason... lonely."

"Huh?" Jack asked. Was that a crafty look he saw in Harry's eyes? Impossible. Harry didn't have an ounce of craft in him.

"Yeh, lonely. You know, you got no kids, live out in the sticks, not many people around. What's the poor girl supposed to do, sit around watching T.V. until you get home?" Harry seemed to be finished speaking for the moment and turned his attention back to the sandwich he was eating. Jack thought a moment. His problem with Angela was a lot deeper than Harry knew, but maybe the old boy had something there.

"So what do I do then, Harry, move into a commune or something?"

"Hell no, why don't you get her a pet, maybe a dog."

There was a long silence while Jack thought. During the first part of it, Harry kept on eating, but then he started to get nervous, as if he were afraid Jack were losing interest in the subject. "Tell you what," Harry said abruptly, "I got a dog I can let you have. Beautiful German shepherd. Well trained. Housebroken... the works."

"A German shepherd!" Jack exclaimed in surprise, then a knowing look came over his face. "Why you old bastard," he said, "you engineered this whole conversation. Admit it you just want to get rid of a dog!"

"Oh, come on now, Jack. You really don't think I'd..."

Then, looking contrite, he admitted, "Okay, okay, so I want to get rid of a dog. You know damn well I live in an apartment, and can you figure a German shepherd in an apartment? Look... you live out in the suburbs, almost in the country. You got plenty of place for a big dog to run out in those woods near your place. Besides, the dog'd be good protection for Angela when you're away. Can't afford not to think of that in this day and age."

"Sure, you old bastard. "What'd the dog do, chew up your slippers?"

"Hell no, best behaved dog I've ever seen."

"Maybe he's mean, then, you know how German shepherds can get."

"Not a chance. That big clown's the most lovable dog I ever met. Too damn lovable," Harry added in an odd bitter tone before going on, "look, I'm trying to tell you. It's not right to keep a big healthy dog like that in an apartment. I'm going to have to give him to the pound if I don't find a home for him."

"But why me?"

"Why not? Don't you really think it'd be good for Angela to have a dog?" Seeing the younger man weaken a little, Harry pushed on. "I'm not asking for an oath in blood, but why don't you just come out to the house after work and have a look. If you don't like him, that's it. My latest batch of home brew's in, anyhow, and you've been bugging me for a taste for weeks just come on out and have a look, that's all I'm asking."

The desperate tone in Harry's voice should have been enough to warn Jack, but, by now, he really was beginning to wonder if having a dog might not take Angela's mind off their troubles. It might be worth a look.

So, later that afternoon, after work, Jack found himself pulling up Harry's driveway, having followed him home. As he got out of the car, Jack could hear a thunderous barking coming from the upstairs apartment where Harry lived with his wife.

"Christ, you sure that's a dog up there and not a lion?" Jack said acidly.

"Well, like I told you, he's big," Harry answered, and then led the way upstairs. The barking grew more and more excited as the two men neared the apartment, and, for a moment, Jack became a little nervous as his friend fumbled with the lock. Maybe the damn monster wouldn't like him and would tear off a leg. But his fears were groundless. As soon as the door opened, a huge, beautifully marked German shepherd came bounding out and began licking Harry's hands ecstatically, joyously wagging his massive tail and uttering little pleasure-filled whines.

"Okay, old buddy, I know how hard it is on you to be locked up here all day," Harry said, a trifle too loudly, as if the words were really meant for Jack. Just then, the dog saw Jack and froze for a second, not hostilely, but as if he had just seen some new sight that totally captivated his interest. And then, with a graceful proud stride, the big animal pranced over to Jack and began inquisitively sniffing his clothes until satisfied and reached up and licked the newcomer's hand and then thrust his huge head up underneath it, forcing Jack's hand up.