Canine

There was a pause in the conversation as Jimmy felt his pocket. A panic consumed his skin. His body became broken pavement as fresh weeds of chill sprouted through each crack.

“Excuse me,” he said, “I have to go.” Thanking the banker for helping him sort out his loan he stood up and with quick steps made for his car. Please be in my car, please be in my car, please be in my car, his thoughts echoed as he got closer. Swinging the car door he ripped open the glove box, the middle, the overhead, the pockets in the back, under the seats, but there was nothing. He began thinking through where he’d been up to this point.

He remembered before going to the bank, stopping by the grocery store, and he thought perhaps when he unloaded the grocery bag at home he’d left it there. He sped home and scoured the house looking for it. Jimmy checked the fridge, the cupboard, the pantry, he went up stairs and tore his room apart, but nothing turned up. The grocery store, he thought, must be at the grocery store. Wasting no time at all he jumped back into his car and sped to the grocery store.

He wiped his brow as sweat began to pool around each wrinkle. He took a deep breath and picked at his teeth. After parking he jumped out. He nearly forgot his keys in the ignition, and was thankful when the incessant beeping reminded him to grab them. The anxiety was building like clay around his heart. He knew deep down that the window to find it was shrinking with each passing minute.

Jimmy walked into the grocery store and found the nearest employee.

“Excuse me,” Jimmy said, “Has anyone turned in a small brown box?”

“I’m not sure sir, you would want to check with lost and found. Here, I’ll take you there,” she said motioning for Jimmy to follow her.

“Thank you,” Jimmy said, trying to mask the sweat now regrouping in his mid back. Together they walked to the back of the store and through a pair of double doors. She went behind a door and came back with a clipboard and a piece of paper. After looking over it she said,

“I’m sorry sir, but it doesn’t appear that we have anything signed in that fits that description.” Feeling his shoulders collapse under his disappointment, Jimmy pinched the brim of his nose and closed his eyes. Think damnit, where could it be?

“Sir,” the employee interrupted, “Sometimes items are turned in upfront, and it takes a bit longer for them to be logged in back here. I could check up there for you if you’d like.” Relief gripped him now, but only slightly, this was no guarantee and he knew it.

“Thank you, yes, please, that would be fantastic,” he said.

Exiting the double doors Jimmy’s vision was becoming manic. He continued to look around, thinking he’d see it, as if it was practicing a playful game of hide and seek and would reveal itself when it knew Jimmy was present. Finally arriving at the front of the store the employee reached into the tub where items were turned in and pulled out a small, square, brown box. Jimmy almost fell to the ground with relief.

“Yes!” Jimmy said, “That is it!”

“Sir, just as a precaution, could you tell me something about the box that would identify it, perhaps what’s inside, or a signature?” Jimmy paused, then fixing his cuff links he smiled, exhaled and said,

“Important memorabilia.”

“I figured as much sir,” she said, placing her hand on her hip and smiling, “But I am gonna need specifics if I am going to hand you back something that I’m not sure is yours.”

“Turn it over, on the bottom are my initials J.L.M, that’s me. James Larse Mitchell.” She turned over the box and sure enough, there they were.

“Well alrighty then sir, I’m happy I could help you find your box. Pretty special huh?” She said,

“More than you know,” Jimmy replied. The woman smiled, “Wow, you have an unparalleled smile.” She smiled wider still.

Four days later that store clerk, whose name was Amy Gildern, went missing. It took the police two weeks to find her body.

“Shit captain,” Lieutenant Rivera said.

“What?” Replied Captain Gutierrez.

“It’s him,” said Lieutenant Rivera.

“How do you know?” Said the captain, his voice sustaining a stern whisper.

“Look...” and with that, Lieutenant Rivera pulled back the head of the body bag and lifted up the lips of Amy Gildern.

“Damnit...” said Captain Gutierrez. He walked away pressing his fingers into his forehead, like he was trying to push the reality of the scene out of the back of his head.

That afternoon there was a press conference and the captain got up in front of the flashing media of Henderson, Nevada. “At 9:34 this morning, the Nevada Police Department and the FBI found the body of Amy Gildern four miles outside of Reno. She had been dead for roughly three weeks. The family asks that you respect their privacy in their time of grieving and loss. The family also asked me to announce that there will be a vigil held tomorrow night at St. Joseph's church on 14th Street at 7 p.m. to honor the life of Amy. Thank you.” The captain turned to leave, and a bombardment of questions erupted from the press mob. In the front row sat Jay Roberts from CNN and he shouted out,

“Captain Gutierrez, is this another victim of the canine killer?!” The captain stopped, turned back to the microphone and said soft into the mic,

“Yes,” the captain responded with the exhale of a man who's seen too much for one lifetime.

“How do you know captain? Has the signature changed at all?” Jay shouted out.

“Amy Gilden's two canine incisors were taken postmortem. No more questions.” The captain walked back out of the stage area.

“How many is that now Jay,” Alicia, his camera woman asked.

“36,” Jay said, “When they find this guy, I’m gonna rip out his teeth myself.”

“Yeah, you and the rest of the world,” said Alicia.

“C’mon,” said Jay, “This is the first time he’s struck in a month. I wonder what stressed him out this time.”

As the tv light flooded the room, Jimmy found the remote and changed the channel to his favorite late night show. Sitting down on his couch Jimmy began to eat. A piece of corn became stuck in his teeth. He grabbed a toothpick and maneuvered it out of the inbetween space. He sipped his water, pet his cat, and felt his left breast pocket. She, just like all the others, was safe and sound, right where she belonged, close to his heart.