Darren felt an anxiety attack coming on.  Sam’s car was in the driveway.  She was back a week early; Darren was in his “working” clothes and Kravitz was at the vet’s.  Sam was going to kill him when she found out about her dog– that big baby of hers left in his charge while she was on hiatus for six weeks in Japan.

Darren opened the front door of the bungalow and his face ran into Sam’s fist– direct hit!  He stumbled, tripped over the lovely size 9 open-toe pump Sam stuck out, and soundly fell on his face, tearing his beard and knocking his sunglasses across the room…

“Don’t get up, Darren.  Do not move.  I saw you begging on the street– in Newport, of all places, hitting up tourists! And with Kravitz, using an old dog to lure the animal lovers, no doubt. What the hell do you… Hey, where’s Kravitz?  Where’s my dog?”

Sam ploughed through the back rooms, calling for the dog.  Then she went outside to the backyard.  He let her.  He needed time to find the baseball bat to defend himself.  Sam was a martial arts Master and Darren worried that she probably learned some new deadly moves at the dojo she was at in Japan. Darren spied the bat behind the divan and dove for it.  There was that size 9 again, next to the bat…

“That bat won’t help you if something happened to my dog.  Where is he?”

“Why are you treating me like this, Samantha? I haven’t done anything to you?  Okay, okay, let go. C’mon, Sam, that hurts!  He’s at the vet’s, your vet– the one on the set of instructions you left me.  He had a heat stroke but…”

“Oh, my God, Darren, is he paralyzed, or blind or…”

“Calm down, Sam.  It was a heat stroke.  You know, too much sun, but he’s getting I.V. fluids and he’ll be fine. They just want to keep him overnight.”

Sam headed for the living room and Darren followed, not too closely.

“How long have you been panhandling, and with my dog?”

“Sam, I took Kravitz along ’cause I didn’t want him sitting at home alone…”

“Wrong answer, Darren.  Just tell me why.  I’m listening.”

“Okay.  It’s a social experiment I’m doing for the paper.  I only do it after work and on the weekends.  Kravitz is a big part of this experiment…”

“I’m supposed to believe this? Listen, begging for money… it has to be humiliating.”

“Right.  It’s not so bad with Kravitz along.  It’s like a game.  I get dressed up and get paid for it.  I was broke, Sam.  My car, this bungalow– living by the Shore.  I don’t get paid a lot at the paper.”

“This stops now.  As of now you have a second job.”

“What job?”

“I need some services… on a frequent basis.  You’ll be paid… maybe I can throw in free rent on the bungalow.”

“What kind of services, Sam?
Prompt:  A desperate man comes up with a unique way to make some extra cash.

Flash Fiction Challenge #15

Word Count:  500



2 thoughts on “Kravitz

  1. Pingback: Flash Fiction Challenge – Week Fifteen Submissions | Thain in Vain

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