The Goat

“Sorry, I’m not a mind reader, just a good sniff.”

  “What do I do?”

  “Speed up a little, you’ll lose her in no time.”

  Sparky eased the accelerator a little harder. The engine purred excitedly. The truck driver was again focused on the road, but after the broadcast this morning, Sparky wasn’t taking chances.

  “So you were saying something about the smells?”

  “Oh yeah, her boyfriend wasn’t happy, he smelled like potato chips. It’s a telltale sign of a jealous lover,” Frank punched the window lever but couldn’t spin it with his clumsy paw. “Could you help here?”

  “I’m can’t while I’m driving, what were you saying about the lady?”

  “Not until you get my window.”

  Sparky stretched himself out and spun the window lever, his truck pulled to the right as his attention drifted from the road. He quickly sat back up and straightened the wheel. The window was only slightly open, but Frank was pleased to have even a small gust in his face.

  “I was saying, when it’s really strong, it smells like pu-” the dog stopped. “Oh god.”

  “What? What’s that sound?”

  “You don’t know?” Frank knew it all too well.

  “Well, I guess it’s coming from that car behind us, you should check out the lights.”

  “That’s a police siren. They use it when they’re mad at you.”

  “What? Why? Because I’m a goat?”

  Frank looked over the console, checking the speedometer. “I’d say outrunning that truck wasn’t the best idea.”

  “But it was your idea!”

  “Hey, keep cool. You don’t want assault on your record as well. Just pull over.”

  Sparky wasn’t sure what to do. His disguise had worked this morning in the café where he was surrounded by people. Surely it wouldn’t fail now, with one single cop. The pickup slid gently along the roadside and came to a halt. Sparky checked his hat as the cruiser pulled up behind him.

  “What if he takes me away?”

  “You think that’s bad, I’ll be stuck in a pound. At least they’ll just chop you up for science. You know what you get fed in the pound?”

  The officer tapped on the window.

  Sparky tried to roll down his window, but the lever wouldn’t move. The policeman tapped the window again with a very stern look. Sparky punched the lever and the window started to fall. As the outside air came in, Sparky caught the chill of autumn.

  “License and registration.”

  “Oh um, sure. License for?”

  “I need to seed a valid driver’s license, usually has your picture on it, and a vehicle registration.”

  “I still am not-“

  “The pretty card in your wallet with the picture on it.”

  “Wallet, got it.”

  Sparky produced the stolen wallet and handed it to the uniformed man. The policeman shrugged and sorted through the billfold. He pulled the I.D. and checked the image. He looked to the driver.

  “Could you please remove your hat?”

  Sparky didn’t move.

  “Sir, I need you to remove your hat.”

  Sparky follow the command slowly. When the hat was clear the officer’s jaw dropped.

  “I know what it looks like, but you have to believe me,” Sparky pleaded. “I’m trying to save my family, they were kidnapped. I know I am supposed to call you guys, but look at me! Can you blame me for not calling?”

  The officer remained perfectly still, the billfold in one hand the I.D. in the other. His expression was locked into his muscles. His mind was blank; too blank to even comprehend the words Sparky was speaking.

  “I borrowed this truck, I know you’ll probably think it’s stealing but I am going to return it. Please don’t have me hauled off. It’s a matter of life and death.”

  The policeman looked down at the contents of his hands and wordlessly handed them back to Sparky. His face never changed.

  “Hey thanks buddy, you’re a lifesaver!” Frank said. “You’re doing a great job.”

  Sparky started to roll up the window. The officer stuck his hand in and his eyes shrunk. “If this is due to those drugs I took in college, I’m sorry.”

  Sparky turned to his canine companion. The two shared a silent gesture of confusion.

  “Too much acid, bingo. Go do some charity and relieve your conscience,” Frank said.

  The policeman’s face fell. “I’m so,” he started welling up with tears. “I thought it wouldn’t do anything to me. Now twenty years later I’m having a breakdown!”

  “Hey, buddy,” Frank adjusted himself in the seat to get a better view of the man. “We’re delusions, not psychiatrists, can we go?”

  “Oh yeah sure. Hey, is this going to affect my sex drive?”

  Sparky turned, forcing out the first thing that came to mind, “Probably.”

  “Dear god,” the officer curled into himself. The two heard him begin to sob as he turned back to his squad car. They sat and waited as the policeman entered his own car and drove away. He even waved at them as he passed.

  Sparky looked at Frank and smiled. He shifted the truck into drive and steered back onto the highway.

  Chapter 37

  “This is sloppy, Reilly.”

  “I don’t need your help, suck up.”

  “The boss sent me to save your ass. You were supposed to drop these goats off hours ago, he was right to doubt you, I told him you’d screw up,” Valerie had been back in the care of her own salon for two days. Her hair had been restored completely to its fullest. She smiled as she berated her failing accomplice.

  Reilly slid the leather gloves over his hands with a scornful look. “I know he wouldn’t send you out here, he told me I had his complete confidence.”

  “Reilly, you are a grunt. The doctor wanted you to succeed, but he understands this as well. You’re no good when you have to make decisions! He cannot extend you his good graces any longer. You’ve made too many mistakes.”

  Reilly lifted the bagged body of the policeman from the roadside. Shortly behind Valerie had been a small cavalcade of emergency personnel. There was an ambulance, two squad cars, and an unmarked car to create an authentic accident scene. It was all an act. Everyone was on the payroll.

  Reilly hoisted the carcass over his shoulder.

  “So what, am I fired? Who’s he planning on getting to do his dirty work?”

  “He wants you to take my car back to the office. I will be driving the goats the rest of the way to the city.”

  “This is a ploy to take credit for my mission!”

  Reilly pulled himself up the first rung of the ladder, straining under the weight of the dead officer.

  “Reilly, you screwed up! And you’re too much of a liability. The doctor wants you back at the office. Now!”

  Reilly pulled himself with his free hand, making his way up the second rung. He exhaled. The pressure of a grown man on his shoulder was something he had been very used to years ago. It wasn’t as commonplace these days.

  “Valerie, I have been working for the old man for years. He wouldn’t let me go.”

  “He’s not letting you go, Reilly. Despite my desire for him to do so, he simply wants you to get back to the office, that’s all he told me.”

  “Call him.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve got a phone, call him. If he asks me to come in and leave this to you then I’ll do it. Otherwise I’m driving this cargo in.”

  Valerie turned and looked at the crew of grunts in costumes. All of them looking busy, but no real investigation was occurring. Not yet. It would come, and the appropriate people would be paid off. This was all Reilly’s doing. Yet her employer footed the bill without question.

  If the boy were related she could understand. Nepotism was as popular a corporate tool as nylon and lipstick. Standing at the scene waiting for the block-headed Reilly to comply, she was even further from understanding what the doctor saw in the
brute.

  “I’m sure he won’t be happy,” she said finally.

  “Whatever.”

  Valerie flipped open her compact phone from the small holster on her belt. The line connected instantly to a receptionist.

  “This is V.G. Please connect me through,” she twisted her hair between her fingers as she waited on a silent hold. The softness and fullness of body caused a short grin. Reilly lifted the man another rung, watching her from above.

  “Valerie?” the voice on the other end was surprised, but even.

  “Sir, he’s refusing to come in.”

  “Valerie, you’re a big girl. Why are you bothering me with this?”

  “He wants to hear it from you.”

  “Valerie, I thought you had all of this taken care of.”

  “I expected your monkey would at least be reasonable.”

  “Very well. Put him on.”

  Valerie extended the phone to Reilly. He balanced the dead man between himself and the ladder as he put the phone to his ear. “Yeah boss?”

  Valerie watched with a contented smile as his face turned sour. His smile dropped, his ears turned red, and his cheeks went white. She had not wanted to call the old man, but the effect on Reilly was priceless.

  “It’s okay, Reilly,” he concluded. “Come in and we’ll talk.”

  The phone fell from Reilly’s ear and the body fell to the ground. Reilly climbed down the ladder without saying a word. He refused to make eye contact with Valerie. He couldn’t stand to see the smile on her face.

  She extended her arm with the keys to her rented car. Reilly grabbed them but she wouldn’t let go.

  “I told you. Now get out of here.”

  She didn’t turn to watch him leave. Instead she focused on the contentment she felt from moving up in the world. Reilly’s failure had been all she needed. She would now carry the doctor’s favor.

  Valerie snapped her fingers at the lackeys standing around.

  “Get this place cleaned up! And someone get this corpse off my phone!”

  Chapter 38

  “What’s wrong with your eyes, goat?”

  “What do you mean?” Sparky's usually yellow eyes were streaked red.

  “How much of that coffee did you drink?”

  The goat's voice vibrated as he spoke. “All of it.”

  “I don’t think you are supposed to drink that much.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I feel more alive than I ever have before!”

  Frank shook his head disapprovingly. “Definitely need to cut down.”

  “Well, it’s too late now.” Sparky had been careful to maintain a proper speed. The goat flipped the radio on. The loud volume forced a jump from Frank.

  “Damn, are we there yet?”

  “No, I keep seeing these signs for Winnipeg. We should be there shortly,” Sparky said.

  “Yeah I was there once long time ago, great place. Lots of trash.”

  “Oh no. It’s a big city? Like Saskatoon?”

  “No worries goat, it’s much bigger than that. I’d say like three times bigger, maybe more,” Frank looked over and noticed that Sparky was scratching. “You okay there, pal?”

  “I keep getting these little urges to scratch.”

  “Oh, well, you probably have fleas.”

  “What? What do you mean I have fleas?”

  “I mean you have little fleas nipping at you.”

  “From where? Why?”

  “I don’t know, I just know they piss me off.”

  “This is why you keep biting yourself?”

  “Yeah, well among other things.”

  “They spread?”

  “You’re not very aware of animal issues are you? I’ve had fleas forever, it’s a fact of life. Speaking of which,” Frank’s snout dove into the fur on his back.

  “This is no good. Is there a cure?” Sparky was scratching his side. Part of him was hoping to peel the skin away leaving nothing for the terrible creatures to gnaw on.

  “Sure, all kinds. We can get something when we get to the city.”

  “No, I think we need to find another way. Driving through the city is a bad enough idea, I don’t want to stop. No more people. It’s too risky.”

  “Look, Sparks, we’ll drive straight through. After we make just a small stop for the flea stuff, and maybe some beer and food. Weren’t you saying something about a map?”

  “Yeah, I know. Montreal is east, but I’m beginning to wonder how east.”

  “It’ll take no time at all,” Frank sounded as if he were used to making stops in the city with talking barn animals.

  Sparky conceded the fleas may be too much to bear for long.

  “Alright, fine. We’ll get the map and maybe some food, but no beer, and some more coffee.”

  “Sounds like we need to make an official stop at a store.”

  “It has to be a small place, somewhere with no customers, and preferably somewhere where we can get everything we need in one stop.”

  “I don’t think they make a store like that. Maybe we can work on your disguise a little, though” there was a careful plan in the dog’s tone.

  “What are you thinking?”

  The goat's eyes followed Frank's distant gaze. Rising above the highway stood a massive billboard featuring humans disguised from head to toe.

  “Halloween Super Center, all your costume needs. Open now through Halloween! Next exit!”

  Frank and Sparky both smiled.

  The parking lot for Halloween Super Center was empty. Sparky was relieved. He and Frank hurried from the truck into the warehouse.

  The forty five thousand square foot inside overwhelmed Sparky. His urge to run away was fierce. This is was a bad idea. Before he could utter the words to run, Frank was off through the sea of merchandise.

  Row after row of masks and costumes, fake jewels and plastic weapons. Frank casually strolled up and down the aisles for something that would help the goat appear more human. Sparky stayed hesitantly in tow. Monsters, devils, witches, pirates, princesses, everything to appear less normal, but no plain people.

  A short man appeared dressed in costume. He was wearing the Wacko-Hippie Tie-Died Top™ and Sup-A-Fly™ wig, accenting the look with the Cool-Dude Sunshades™ from aisle four. Around his neck was a Peace™ sign necklace; it was ninety-nine cents on special from the end cap of aisle two.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I am looking for a mask.”

  “Well, we have over one-thousand masks in stock. What do you need? Monster? Creature from the deep? How about spooky ghost with realistic oozing blood?”

  “I was actually thinking of something... normal.”

  “Normal? I don’t know what you’re asking for with normal. Halloween’s the time to dress up like something else.”

  “Hmm, what do you have that isn’t a monster?”

  “Oh, I get it!” The hippie dressed clerk started off. “Follow me!”

  Sparky and Frank followed the middle aged male clerk to aisle seven. He pointed them to masks piled on the bottom of the shelves. Sparky had overlooked them before. The goat picked up a few to study lobbing each one back into the heap, unsatisfied. The noses and ears were too exaggerated. The hair stiff and plasticy. It would be a step up from the goat features Sparky currently flaunted, but not the perfect look he had imagined before they arrived.

  The clerk hovered nearby, watching every potential choice.

  “Hmm, can I have a minute?” Sparky asked.

  “Sure, take your time!” The man disappeared around the end cap.

  “What do you think, Frank?”

  “I don’t know, I think it looks like a mask.”

  Sparky was holding a dummy presidential mask modeled after Richard Nixon, the nose and ears were definitely larger than life, although not by much. Neither of them recognized the mask’s famous owner fame.

  “This one?” Frank pulled free a pair of black glasses attached to a large beige nose and a mu
stache. “This could work, right?”

  “No, it’s going to have to cover my face.”

  “Try it on anyway!”

  The goat slipped the glasses on. They quickly started sliding down his face.

  “No good.”

  Sparky tossed them into the pile. He tried on the Nixon mask he was holding; it stuck up with his horns. He pushed the mask on fully, piercing holes with his pointy horns; he then replaced the straw hat.

  “How about this?”

  “I think you look like Elvis,” Frank sat back and looked again. “I think that’s who that’s supposed to be.”

  “Do you think this will work?”

  The dog put his paw under his chin, posing in thought. “No.”

  Sparky removed the disguise and threw it on the ground. “This is pointless; this is where people come to look less human, not more human.”

  Frank wasn’t listening. Something at the end of the row had caught his eye. He bounced off. Sparky was bending over sorting through the other masks.

  “Finding everything?” the short clerk with the afro wig returned.

  “Not really, no.”

  “Remind me, what exactly are you looking for?”

  “I want a mask that looks human, but not like my face.”

  “Well, let me show you something else then.”

  The costumed man led Sparky out of the aisle. They marched through several other rows then back to aisle one. Sparky sighed. He had already been through aisle one twice. He looked over the hanging costumes again seeing nothing that would do him any good.

  The man started sorting through some various sets of clothes that shimmered in the florescent warehouse lights. The glistening colors seemed to merge as the man flipped through them at lightning speed. At the very rear of a rack he reached in and pulled out a red sequence shirt. Underneath was a plain white shirt.

  “I need a mask, not a shirt.”

  “I know, check this out.”

  The man flipped up what had been hidden behind the clothes, a very human mask. The nose was a little pointy and the skin was a little pale, but it was by far the best.

  “Had this around for a couple of years, you’ll be surprised how hard it is to sell these things.”

  “It’s perfect.”

  “You know, I think I know just the wig to go with it!”

  “You’re a lifesaver!”

  “And you, my good man, are going to be spitting image the King of Pop.”

  Chapter 39

  “Are you ready for this one, Basil?”

  He looked up from his desk, scratching at his unshaved chin.