Shape of the Final Dog and Other Stories (9781101600665) Read Online Free PDF

enough, not two hours after we get back home, Doc calls. He was drunk maybe, but from what I get out of it, we had a conversation that said Spence Hooler and his Wild Man were in business.
    I felt good about how things went, so when Sister comes into the kitchen with her bottle, I had a drink, gave one to Mot too. He swallowed it straight down; then about six seconds later, without any warning, he throws up. Something he ate that the gin must of triggered. Falls to me to clean it up, and when I finish I see Sis is making a study of him. I was glad to see her take an interest. Of course, that’s always how it starts, a family gathered around itself before it turns into trouble.
    I tell her how I’m gonna have to locate a man-size cage to put him in for the show, put a blanket over it to hide him from the hummers to build up the suspense. She objects to the whole idea, says nobody wants to be covered in tar and put in a cage with a blanket over it. Says she thinks Mot is depressed, wants to take him somewhere for an “evaluation.” I tell her I gotta go upstairs. Tomorrow was gonna be a big day.
    Up in my room I stand Mot next to me, and facing the mirror, I start practicing ideas. The first thing about being a good barker is knowing psychology. Get their attention, make ’em wonder if maybe you got something nobody ever seen.
    â€œThere are things in this world nobody can explain. Observe and marvel, ladies and gentlemen! Under this blanket I have a creature that medical science would like to get its hands on. He eats raw meat, live chickens! And if I can’t get him any of that, he’ll chew the grass, eat the worms right out of the dirt!”
    Then I’ll whip off the blanket, and the question then is gonna be, will Mot perform? Will he have the heart for it? And right then, like he was inspired by our little rehearsal, he starts gnashing his teeth, growling like a dog, wagging his big head around. And I knew we were in business. Best to save our energy for the performance. I call it a night.
    Next day was lots to do. First thing was make sure Mot wasn’t left to go wandering into Sister’s attention, because I had no time for complications. And he couldn’t be left in the yard either, because I’d caught Auto nibbling at his tar. So I had to lock him in the barn for the day while I attended to my appearance.
    I went down in the basement, go through what’s left of Daddy’s belongings. First thing I find is a little box. I think what’s going to be in there is cufflinks, but what’s in it is a rattle off a rattlesnake Daddy killed. Daddy’s clothes are stored in a cardboard box. Suits, shirts, and shoes. I try on a checkered coat. It’s thick and got leather at the elbows, but it’s the right look, and a tweed cap to go with it. There’s gloves too, soft Italian ones for driving with. And a cane covered in snakeskin I’m going to use to point out the importance of what I’ll be saying.
    I go up to find Sister to invite her to the show, but she says she hates the carnival, even if her own brother was gonna be one of the main attractions. She makes a comment about my outfit, doesn’t like that I’m wearing Daddy’s clothes. I feel like saying, Hey, you wanna wear ’em? Go ahead. But there’s no point in it.
    O kay, here’s what happened. We get to Skyland on the early side so I can get certain details settled. For instance, I gotta arrange for the cage, so we go on over to the office first. That’s when Jack tells me some crap about being over the limit on platform space. Says it’s state regulation, and if an inspector comes by, that’s it, they’ve had it.
    Who says? I wanna know.
    Doc, he tells me.
    I say, Bullshit!
    He says, Call him.
    I do. Called him on Jack’s bastard cell phone. When I heard it from Doc I started yelling, telling him I wanted paperwork on this, something in writing. Telling