Truly, Madly, Like Me - Jo Watson Page 0,47
yelled.
I tried to block out the noise and concentrate on the task ahead. But then as quickly as he’d started, Cujo stopped. He stood up. He looked at me over his shoulder and walked off.
“No, no, noooooo,” I called as he scratched his paws on the ground pointedly.
“Get down, lady,” someone else yelled.
“Aren’t you going to do it?” I called off after him. “Please do it. Please,” I begged, but he kept on walking.
“Go away!” More yells.
“You’re ruining the movie,” another one shouted.
I turned to face the crowd, the light from the projector blinding me, and I shielded my eyes with my arm. “What’s wrong with you all, never seen a woman with a sieve?” I held it up and shook it at everyone, just as a piece of popcorn connected with my face.
Someone grabbed me by the hand and pulled me. It was Mark.
“Come,” he urged, pulling me out of the light and away from the screen. A massive cheer rang out from the crowd. I turned and gave them all a death stare. I’m sure I heard one guy shout, “Go away, sieve lady.” So much for this little, social, friendly town.
“What are you doing?” Mark asked, when we were both far away from the screen.
“He swallowed my car immobilizer. I’m trying to get it back.”
“Who swallowed your what?”
“Him!” I pointed.
“Your dog?” Mark replied.
“Not my dog swallowed my car immobilizer and it’s a rental and I don’t have a spare and I would like to use the key to get the hell out of here!” I was feeling overwhelmed now, and I could hear that my voice had risen a few octaves.
“Right here, right now. At movie night. In front of the whole town?”
“Excuse me, it’s not like I planned for him to . . . you know.”
He cleared his throat. This was such a bizarre conversation to be having and I think we were both aware of it. I shuffled my feet around awkwardly.
“Do we have to talk about this?” he asked.
“No! NO! We don’t,” I said, relieved that he was putting an end to this conversation. “I’ll just go.” I walked over to Cujo and picked up his leash. “I’ll go back to the hotel and, I don’t know,” I sighed, “do whatever I need to do with a sieve. Maybe. If it ever happens.” I shot the dog a look and he seemed to lower his head in embarrassment.
“What?” I asked him. “You’re embarrassed? Well, I was the one trying to catch your crap with a sieve in front of half the town. I should be the one embarrassed.” I turned away from Mark and started walking.
“You know he doesn’t understand English, right?” Mark sounded amused and I swung around again. He was smiling at me now, his irritation seemed to be gone.
I walked back over to him and then leaned in and lowered my voice. “Can I tell you something?” I asked.
Mark leaned in. “Sure.”
“Sometimes, I swear he bloody understands me. And I’m sure he’s been messing with me since the day I met him. And I’m not sure why, but sometimes I get the feeling he has ulterior motives.”
Mark laughed.
“I know, it sounds weird!”
But Mark shook his head and gestured to the screen. “Who am I to argue with that? We’re watching The Birds by Alfred Hitchcock, after all.”
I looked at the screen again as more murderous-looking birds filled it.
“In this movie, the bird population starts attacking humans. They become coordinated and plan staged attacks.”
“I see.” I looked at Cujo suspiciously. He didn’t look like he had some grand, malicious master plan; now he just looked lazy, lying there on the floor, his head propped up on a hay bale as if using it as a pillow, as if he was about to fall asleep. I tugged on the leash and he opened his one eye lazily. I sighed. He couldn’t fall asleep at a time like this.
“I have to go,” I said, hauling Cujo to his feet. I was having to pull him along with me now. He was no longer being good on the leash. Instead, he was lazily dragging his paws on the ground, as if he didn’t want to leave, as if he was trying to keep me here. But I wasn’t going to let him.
“You can stay if you want!” I heard Mark say and I turned. He was smiling at me again, a small, curious smile, and my stomach gave the tiniest little flutter. A pitter-patter of