Only Son Read Online Free PDF Page A

she’d done. There was no way of bringing back the baby she’d destroyed. He wanted to tell her that.
    But the bitch probably wouldn’t call, so thinking about it was a waste of mental energy.
    As Carl rounded the corner to his apartment building, he noticed a small crowd gathered on the street. He heard an old woman’s anguished cries. Everyone was staring down at something on the pavement, but Carl couldn’t see what it was.
    â€œOh, gross me out!” a teenage girl was saying.
    Her friend giggled. “That old lady is crazy…”
    It was Mrs. Gunther, his landlady. With her pointed glasses off, she looked even more ancient and feeble. Tears streamed down from her puffy eyes. She wrung her hands and stood over the mangled, bloody thing on the pavement. Mrs. Gunther kept crying the dog’s name over and over again. Carl saw some of the people in the crowd snickering at her. “God, she’s acting like it’s her kid or something.” One of the teenagers laughed.
    Carl bumped against her, hoping he’d smeared some of his sweat on the girl. “Excuse me, you little dipshit,” he mumbled.
    â€œHey, I heard that, asshole,” she called after him.
    Carl went to Mrs. Gunther. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he led the old woman inside.
    The next day, he played hooky from work. He spent the morning at the Humane Society’s Animal Shelter. “I want to buy a dog,” he told the man at the pound. The place smelled like hell, and the caged dogs were howling and barking. “I’m looking for a white or grey poodle,” he said over the noise. “Preferably housebroken and—well, this sounds crazy, but if you’ve got a poodle like that with a crooked lower jaw, it would be terrific.”
    The mangy mutt, which cost fifteen dollars, could have passed as Sparkle’s twin. He spent another seven dollars on a leash and collar. Carl felt like a jerk walking the rodentlike thing up the walkway to his apartment building. He tied the leash to the knob on Mrs. Gunther’s door, then fixed a note to the dog’s collar. “ Will you take care of me? ” it said. “ Yours Hopefully, Sparkle II .”
    Carl pressed the doorbell, then ran up the corridor. He ducked around the corner and peeked back down the hallway.
    Mrs. Gunther opened her door, yanking the leash so the poodle yelped and tumbled to the ground. The old woman let out a horrified gasp. Her frail, bony hand came up to her mouth. “Oh, no,” she cried. “Lord, no…”
    Carl felt his well-meant plan backfiring. He’d been so sure this dog could replace the one she had lost.
    The poodle bounced back up and sniffed at Mrs. Gunther’s feet. She just stared down at it, shaking her head. “Oh, who would do this?” she cried.
    Carl watched her stoop down to read the note. He got ready to step forward and beg her forgiveness. But after a moment, he heard her laugh. “Oh, of course I’ll take care of you!” she said, wiping the tears from her eyes. Mrs. Gunther gathered the poodle in her arms and carried it inside her apartment.
    Carl retreated upstairs to his own place. Maybe he should have gotten a dog for himself at that pound. Even some obnoxious barking would have been better than the lonely silence greeting him now. After sharing his life with someone for four years, he wasn’t sure he could live alone again. He wanted something—someone—that would ask of him: “ Will you take care of me? ”
    He flopped down on the new couch. His shirt from the day before yesterday was strewn across the armrest, and he dug the cigar out of the pocket. He studied it. Congratulate me. I’m a daddy .
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    A package under his arm, Carl returned from his lunch break. He had his own office, but not much privacy. Half a wall and a glass partition separated him from his best friend at the office, Greg Remick. Carl set the package on