venice beach puppy caper

7/31/2019 Venice Beach Puppy Caper

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Venice Beach Puppy CaperPussy Willow Series -1

by

XTICKS

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copyright 2012

-disclaimer-

This story is a work of fiction. Anyresemblance to actual events, places,

or persons is strictly coincidental.

This title contains subject mattersuitable for-adults only-

Please ensure you are over the age of 18years old before reading this title. Also, be

sure to check the laws, in your localjurisdiction, applicable to the reading or

consuming of materials intended for adults,before reading this title.

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One

Maybelle was an old school chum, andI hadnt seen her for a few months.

When she moved onto the mainland it

was really to get away from me.

Shed seen my place in Nassau more

than a few times, and we both felt thenext time she wouldnt want to leave.

So she packed up her belongings,

most of which she would only see

months at a time when she returned

home to mom and pop, and got her

own life started in the Venice Beach

area of Florida. The move didnt work

for more than a month or two. I did

my part, but Maybelle making allkinds of excuses for me to come to

visit is why we failed. The excuses

were usually based in my work as a

private-I, and so after a while they

had to be quite colorful to even getme to pretend to believe she really

wanted anything other than meat. I

didnt mind giving meat to her, not at

all, I had long realized she wanted


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more than that from me though, and

just plain didnt have more to give.

Maybelle and I had been doing bad

things to each other for more than a

few years. Not long into our teenage

friendship we realized this amazing

thing happened each time our flesh

would connect. And we promptly got

to connecting regularly. When she

wasnt crossing the causeway to myparents place in Portmore, spending

days there at a time on Daddas

second floor retreat, I was crossing

the other way and up into the Stoney

Hill area of St. Andrews where herfamily had a sprawling rural-ish gem

where we could watch her wild horses

all afternoon long after being some

wild horses ourselves in Maybelles

cool basement room. The second

floor of my home was a virtual

hideaway as ours was the only house

within the natural eye with an upper

floor. Dadda cast it himself out of


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steel and cement, and then thinking it

fell slightly short of perfection he

never visited.

The house up the mountain was a

remnant of the Islands slavery past. I

dont know how her people acquired

it, what they did to be able to afford it.

It did however make up, much as

Maybelle herself did, a significant part

of my memories of my own flesh

awakening, and I loved both the houseand Maybelle for that. The first time

she laid lips on me I arrived not far

from where they say you go when

hard drugs slam you wicked. I guess

she was for a while there kind of like adrug to me. I hit that wall and rode

that train daily, sometimes oft in a

day, wanting to get all there is to get

from female human surrender. When

your teenage chum gives herself to

you, wishing with her eyes you will do

any, everything with her, you rise to

this challenge. Days you feel youve

exceeded what this type of gift was


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ever meant to be. And times you wish

to, seek out how to make it more.

Like to be offered up the flesh withoutreservation need not end at the

borders of physicality. And you find

yourselves as you walk the

boardwalks of Anytown hand in hand,

you discover youve transcended the

known universe to places beyond this,

to new, sweeter places where only

you and she exist, asking yourself; is

this that itthat ultimate.

Love needs to be free though to be

that. If it isnt free it isnt love its

commitment. Maybe someday I would

want that too, but I was too young..too free. So Maybelle moved to the

mainland to get away from me. Pretty

soon my work had me all over the

Caribbean, and her and my thing just

kind of faded into whomever else she

was doing and all else I was trying to

forget. Whenever my teenage

sweetheart called I would pretend to


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believe she needed me for something

other than meat, and run to her.

So what was it this time?

She bought a new puppy.. a Terrier.

The dog spent the first few days

laying and defecating all over her

Italian carpet, and on day 3 when

Maybelle stepped from the shower the

pup just wasnt there any more. Up

and vanished. She didnt even make

a sound. I knew from experienceMaybelles place was mainly open.

Between the giant bay window

opening her giant bedroom onto the

beach below, and the French doors

opening onto the balcony she neverclosed, I just assumed when she told

me the tale on the air-phone, the little

shit had just jumped to freedom. That

was kind of what I did, and well, I

guess I was looking at the thing solely

from my own perspective.

Miamis heat hit me.


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I was barely back in Nassau from

Hariettes Kingston heat when

Maybelle rang my line. Her pup wasmissing and she sounded desperate.

The one had nothing to do with the

other despite what she really

believed, but I play the game of

pretend. I was a little desperate

myself. The Queen of Harbour View if

nothing else had awoken my sex

animal again. Our brief tryst had

stroked and tamed the lion, did whatit could while we lay there, but as

suddenly as that bliss was interrupted

is as undying as my revisiting that

part of me was. If Maybelle wanted to

play reminisce, I was amplymotivated.

Watching her emerge from the haze

rising from the cement walk skirting

the arrivals deck was like buying a

gun. Releasing hot metal and

watching them sail through the air has

a promise you rarely get anywhere

else. When fresh slugs make their


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mark its a mixed bag. You see the

destruction even as the metal tries to

connect with the flesh -burning.Youre remorseful for the lead, for you

know it will never be flesh, never join

it. A bullet touching flesh does one

thing burn and destroy it forever.

Concurrently you feel the flesh dying

even as the bullet electrifies it. The

searing energy of hot lead, roasting,

turning to ashes any flesh it meets is

in an instance promise, then death.When you witness the connection you

wish for once the flesh could become

more alive from its meeting gun-

energy. You wish their union could go

someplace good wanted. Myconnecting with Maybelle was going

to be this promise, then death. If she

let me I was going to caress the

promise for as long as the promise

allowed.

She didnt want to wait. I didnt

either. I fell on top of her as we fell on

top of the Divan bed, and the room


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took us in. There was shiny porcelain

everywhere. They watched me pull

the strap of her dress south. Maybellehad a collection of expensive dolls

since childhood, she couldnt stand

not having them around her. I wanted

to individually close all their eyes. I

felt the eyes on me as I slid her thin

summer dress past her thighs and up.

The want you feel, your meat feels,

watching fabric caress skin youre

about to wet is a place I want to diein. The brown of Maybelles eyes hit

me.. then the fullness of her lips. I

have known immense heat to rise out

of this womans flesh, but Florida

somehow gave her more of it to puton me. Her heat made my want come

in fully. When she was wearing

nothing but the fragrant mist my meat

got up fully. It didnt want to wait. My

eyes strained about Maybelles pretty,

perfect bedroom, but my rod on its

own found her centre wet. I got up in

her the savour of it a mental line

from my groin to the charge flowing


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behind my skull and to my brain.

When the mix of the grip of her flesh

and the scent so sweet of theChevrefeuille bit me, I was lost. I

wanted to look into her eyes and see

the thing I had seen there before, that

thing that makes the heart weak. Its

not that am narcissistic and wanted to

stir things in her that there is no room

for in our contract. But rather that I

believe that this is what we are love

at its pinnacle where there is nothingmore where we can be this magic,

and not wish for anything else from

each other. She had taught me a lot

about smell. Her skin and flesh taught

me many things too, about how tomake them chant, how to use them

and have them sooth me to bliss. My

meat was using the walls of her. They

in turn the walls- were gripping,

urging from me touch euphoric, and in

her eyes I saw it heart-magic. I

ground deeper if slower into her.

Maybelles skin, her arms around me,

took hold of my senses and the heat


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of her shot me to mars briefly. My

return was met by the whisper of her

breath.Feel me. I was truly feeling all

there is to feel. Feel me? I knew

what she was asking that

metaphysical thing that some say

survives the fleshs demise, did I

connect with it was I basking in her

essence, the thing at the centre of us

some feel it is our purpose to meet.

Well I have never met metaphysicalme, nor have I ever even tried, but as

I nodded my reply to Maybelle, I was

sure I was locked in an embrace with

hers. It spoke to me then. And

electric me understood the language.It said erupt.. and release and bathe

Maybelle with your milk. It said give

to her bits of you, leave with her parts

of yourself. Her walls urging you to

descend in their midst will hold you

much better when you do.

When the idea released me I had

already broke. Her whimper in my ear


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said she did too. Our waters were

mixing one with the other and heat

dancing off each of us to mix in theair. Maybelle embraced me sweetly

but I was fine with it.. for now I was

fine with it.

That first night there in bed made her

fears real to me, for I swore I heard

her Terrier barking in the walls.

Maybelle had been sitting on the edge

of her bed when I stirred, and withonly her eyes asked if I believed her

now. There had to be a hundred dogs

in the complex housing her

apartment. But something about the

direction of the barking made mewant to believe. The dog couldnt fit

in the walls. Could it? The first thing

she had done was have the buildings

management scan the walls of her

condo with infrared. There was no

sign of her pet. The barking had a

here-and-now reverb. I wanted to

believe it was nearby.


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Did you check with the

neighbours? She lowered her head

as I asked.No ones seen her. I hugged

Maybelle close to me. If we could just

fall back asleep, in the morning I

would get on the case.

Venice Beach in the early morning is

like New Years once a day. You can

smell the previous nights celebration

as you walk the sands or theboardwalk, and high above the line of

the beach, in the windows of each

condo, you can almost see its

remnants. Maybelle and I werent

able to get back to sleep well mainlyher. Her cries would slice each of my

descents into sleep, and after the

third or fourth time I gave in and sat

up in the bed next to her. Her face is

the same face Ive known for many

years -her soft regard for my internal

rants a fixture. When she smiled as I

was stared into space still wrapping

my mind around the case I had left


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behind in Kingston, I felt like in a way

she was reading my mind. I really

wasnt done with the case in Jamaica.At least my brain wasnt done trying

to makes sense of the details. Hariette

Donavons marrying her groom only to

rob him seemed like such an extreme

way to steal a stone.

Jack. She had been staring

steadfast into my elsewhere eyes.

You know I love you? I gave her my

eyes fully. More than whomever it isstealing your presence from me right

now. I could only smile.. and hug my

high-school sweetheart close to me,

thinking I can still hear her missing

pup crying nearby.

Im sure I saw it before she did.

It would take me much longer than

her to accept it though. The beach

below Maybelles place curved inland

near the edge of the long row of

hotels on the south side of the beach.

Coming around this curve, I could

have sworn I saw a well-dressed


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Cuban walking quite briskly towards

us. When my eyes directed

Maybelles towards the spectacle, shealmost immediately picked up her

pace towards the man. By the time

Maybelle started running, 20 yards

separated her from me. I wanted to

stop her, but knew even a sharp

command couldnt stop her as the

man carried a dog I guessed she

thought was hers. Something told me

to uncase my blix, and when I did thestranger pulled his from in back of his

waist shooting towards Maybelle and

I. That stopped Maybelle dead in her

tracks.

Hit the deck, I said, beforereleasing my gun twice at the Cuban.

He only changed routes, but kept

coming at us. The lead kept coming

too, several cascading to the sand

around Maybelle. I let him have it

then. The first hit his gun-shoulder

spinning him half round, two more

made their mark in his chest, and he

fell first to knees, then to one side,


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still clutching the dog under his good

arm. I advanced past Maybelle, her

filing in behind me. I approached thedying Cuban, still aiming the blix.

Blood bubbled from his lips.

I only wanted to talk, he

gurgled, the dog scurrying from his

limp arm and jumping into Maybelles.

You drew on me. I only shrugged.

Find the other, he said before dying

his eyes darting right and left in his

head.

Who wanted to have to deal with

police on the beach? Not me. I

suppose it could have been later in

the morning. This incident certainlywould have ruined my day in that

case. This early in the morning

though meant after answering all of

the expected questions I could go

home and sleep it all off wake up

again and start over pretend its a

new day. I particularly disliked

dealing with detectives on the

mainland simply because my Private-I


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I.D. really didnt get very much

respect here. I spent half the time

explaining why I was mixed up inwhatever I was mixed up in, then once

we got down to the actual

circumstances I usually had to

demonstrate I knew what I was doing

before they let me leave. In this

instance I had shot to death a well-

dressed local. It almost seemed like

there was still smoke rising through

the 3 perfect holes in his rayon bush-shirt. And really I shot him on

speculation. According to the

deceased he only shot because I

pulled my tool. Well guess what? I

shot back because he was shooting. Ishot better when he started shooting

at my girlfriend. It doesnt get any

more cut and dry than that. The

faultless female detective, once she

dug the slugs from the Cubans piece

out of the sand, saw that as well as

she sees her gorgeous face in the

mirror each morning as she gets


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ready to come out onto these mean

streets.

Theyre blanks, she said,holding one of the shell-casings up to

my face. I just shrugged. She let

Maybelle and I go after that.. with the

usual warning. Dont leave town.

Maybelle wasnt doing too well. She

knew what I did for work. But I dont

believe she ever saw it so up close

and personal. Really I think she wasworried about spot the way you would

worry about a child witnessing

violence like maybe the dog saw too

much. She had told me the dogs

name the night prior, but I hadforgotten. Spot suited the pup fine as

far as I was concerned, cause she

didnt have any. I wanted to reassure

Maybelle tell her spot was fine.

Really I didnt know much about dog

psychology. If it was a child I would

have told her to have the child take a

nap and then love and cherish the

child for life when it woke from that


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21/30

J3Z3B3L

I was glad the buff was gone. It made

me not want to get out of bed. And I

knew I had to. The tattoo didnt make

sense to me. I rubbed the sleep from

my eyes and took another look.

That Spots name or a licence

plate?

Fergie! She corrected me.

And the tattoo says Jezebel. Inodded, getting it as I read the

inscription again. Why would

someone do something like that?

She looks to my eyes . Is it that hard

to remember a dogs name? I rosefrom the bed. It was time to take this

more seriously. You first of all have

people shooting at my loved-ones,

and then committing animal cruelty.

If I understood the Cubans dying

words there is another one of these

pups.. probably with a similar tattoo.

Maybelle saw the name Jezebel. What

I saw was code. I wanted to find the


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balance of it. She had her pup back.

So that case was closed. The code

etched in the dogs skin opened a newone for me. Shed only owned the

thing a few days before it

disappeared.

Whered you buy the dog

exactly? She looked to my eyes

wondering what I was up to.

Out of town, she said. I was

driving in from up the coast. I saw a

sign. My eyes widened. The signled me to a farm. And I bought 1 of 3

Terriers they had there that day.

When we got to the spot Maybelle saw

the sign days earlier, there was nolonger one there. That was ok. I

didnt expect it to still be there. There

was a sign there advertising fresh

tomatoes. That was good enough.

We descended the dirt lane to the

farmhouse expecting to be greeted as

Maybelle was and soon realized we

were entering a ghost town. The front

door of the small house swung from


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creaky hinges. The breeze blew the

door open till the limits of the hinges

forced them back into the breezeagain. There were innumerable

chimes hanging from the veranda

ceiling, and the music they made said

it all. Sunlight shone into the house

from in back of it, but the rays shined

on no one. When we circled to the

back of the house there were

comfortable chairs on a recently

constructed deck, but no oneoccupied the chairs. As far as you

could see into the ample orange

orchard there was neither man nor

machine. It was obvious Maybelle and

I were alone. I quickly got tired of themusic of the chimes, audible even

from the edge of the orchard, and

headed back to the car. Maybelle

took her time joining me.


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