her? She’s Katie.
Danny watched the bar. Something’s up, he said.
Well, said Jeff. I didn’t know if I should say anything, he said, all at once sober. I mean—shit.
Danny turned to look at him. Jeff looking down. Shaking his head.
I think she might be cheating on you, buddy, he said, and looked up. He held his expression, then lost it. Sputtering into his hand.
Fuck you, said Danny.
Relax, man. She’s cramming. Entrance exams and shit. You should know all about that, college boy.
Yeah, Danny said. Cramming. That’s what she keeps telling me.
Jeff shook his head. Pussy. Whipped.
Danny pushed off from the fender. You coming with me or not?
No, I am not. Jeff rolled to his right and opened the driver’s door and lowered himself into the bucket seat. Got his legs in and shut the door. He put the key in the ignition and powered down the window but did not start the car. Gonna just sit here awhile, he said, and then I’ll drive on home. He tilted the seat back and closed his eyes.
I can wait and follow you home, Danny said.
I ain’t no drunker’n you.
Hell you’re not.
Whatever. Go home. I’m fine.
You won’t go back in there?
No, I won’t.
You promise?
Yes, sir.
And you’ll drive straight home?
Yes, sir, Officer Dan.
All right. I gotta let that dog out before he explodes.
Oh, Danny-boy, Jeff sang.
I’m gonna call you later.
The pipes, the pipes are clo-ogg-ing.
The dog rode with his nose pointed into the wind and he knew where they were going and he began to whine: he could smell the park, the river. At the last light on the business drag they turned right and took the winding blacktop into the park. The limbs of the big oaks bending in the wind, the points of the spruces stirring the stars like spearheads. Midway through the park the river swung into view through a single-file row of pines, and on it sat a bright gob of moon swimming against the current, keeping pace with the truck, and when Danny pulled off onto the dirt shoulder and came to a stop the moon stopped too and sat shuddering on the windy face of the water.
He cut the engine and the lights, then snapped the leash to the dog’s collar and opened the door—Wait, stupid, let me get out first—and when he was out of the way the dog jumped down and at that same moment something went skittering by them in the dirt, some night creature small and fast, and the dog leapt after it and the leash sang through Danny’s grip and sailed free and the dog was gone, his paws pounding over the turf and there was the frantic jangling of his tags and then no sound but the wind as he ran deeper into the park, into the darkness under the trees.
No point even calling his name, you couldn’t bring him back from that chase until he’d given it up on his own.
Danny pitched the truck seat forward and found the MagLite and tested it—the beam not at its strongest but strong enough—then he took the keys from the ignition and set off into the park. Following that beam into the woods, listening for the tags, for any sound that wasn’t the autumn leaves in the wind, the high limbs creaking. Calling casually to the dog, Wyatt, come on. Whistling. Cold wind, now. First bite of winter in it. The moon following him through the treetops like an interested party. Like a fellow searcher.
Dumb-ass too drunk to hold on to a dog leash. He thought about going home with no dog. Or a dog that had been hit by a car. Thought of his brother’s face when he saw the body. Not good.
He heard the tags and swept the light, but nothing there. The tossing branches, the blowing grass. He called to the dog and told him he had treats—did he want a treat? He knows you don’t have no treats, dummy. Pressing on under the swaying branches and boughs, the moon keeping pace. Good ol’ moon, there’s ten bucks in it for you if you find him first.
It was called a park but where were the lamps, the friendly walkways—the swing sets and the shelters and the grassy spaces where parents could set their kids loose to kick a ball while the wieners roasted? It was like the city planners had dreamed of a park but then, having engineered a single road through the little wilderness end-to-end, had forgotten their dreams and moved