opened the door. It was Aaron, like always.
“Lose your ball again?” I asked, masking the fear in my stomach with a cheery voice. “I’ll throw it over the fence in a minute.”
Aaron ran home and I turned to my unwanted guest.
“I know you want things kept quiet, but in this neighborhood the best way to do that is to keep things normal. All I need to do is retrieve the ball and toss it next door.”
We went out into my backyard, found the ball and tossed it over the fence. Aaron yelled, “Thanks!” and resumed dribbling.
“What’s all this junk back here?” the carjacker asked.
“It’s not exactly junk. This is an agility course. When Shadow gets bored he wants to come out here and run the course. See, this piece is a hurdle. This piece is called the Weave Poles because the dog weaves in and out of the poles in a straight line until he reaches the end. Here’s a tunnel. This is an A-frame.” The A-frame gave me an idea, but it wasn’t time to test it. The A-frame was only a few feet from my back fence and would give me easy access out of here if I had to make a run for it. “Do you want to see how it works?”
“Sure, why not, just remember I got the gun.”
“Shadow isn’t used to having people here but we’ll see how it goes. Shadow! Heel.” I commanded. Shadow trotted up and stood at my left side. I walked over to the hurdle. I wasn’t sure he would listen to me with distractions, so I put him in a sit-stay several feet from the hurdle and walked to the other side of the hurdle.
“Jump!” I called. Shadow looked around, unsure. “Jump!” I tried again. He stood, ran a few steps and jumped over the hurdle. “Heel.” I said and walked to the next obstacle. Since this one was easier to do from a walk, I headed right into it “Weave,” I said, “weave, weave.” Shadow weaved in and out of the poles. “Good boy! Good weave!” We went on to the next one, the tunnel, “go through!” Shadow shot through the tunnel. He really liked the tunnel. He liked to go through the course at a run but I thought if I did anything sudden I’d get in trouble. Shadow was holding back and he wasn’t too happy, just obeying.
“What about the ramp one?”
“We just started that one. I’ll see if he’ll do it right. If he doesn’t I’ll have to correct him and work with him or he’ll develop bad habits.”
We walked over to the A-frame. It was set at a gentle slope and peaked at about 4 feet. “Up!” I commanded, “Shadow, go UP!” I walked beside the ramp showing him the direction he was to go. He had gone over the A-frame but he wasn’t yet ready to take it flying like some of the other obstacles. If I was doing this on my own, I would have food and a leash and I’d take it at a jog so he had some momentum going, but I didn’t have those things. Shadow walked up the “up” side and peered down the “down” side. Going down was harder than going up. He started the down side and slid a little because of his hesitant attitude. As soon as his paws hit the ground on the far side I praised him.
“Good boy! Good dog!” Shadow jumped around and around barking.
“We usually do the whole thing at a jog. And we have other obstacles that we need to build.”
He gestured to the course and I took that to mean we could go through it once more so I jogged off with Shadow trotting next to me. “Weave, weave.” I said, “Go through. Jump!” Now the A-frame, “Go up, come down, good boy!” Shadow was really stoked now. He was in his groove and it was time to stop. I got an idea. Since all this activity seemed to be okay, I walked over to the A-frame, unhooked the chain and raised it another foot. I might be able to use that additional height later, and I could fit the change into the training without suspicion.
“One more time, Shadow! Weave, weave, go through. Jump! Go up! Come down! Good boy, what a good boy! You did the high one! Good job!” There, the A-frame was ready in case I had a chance to use it. Mission accomplished.
It was getting on towards dinnertime and I hadn’t had lunch yet. Staying alive was more important than lunch but I was debating whether it was more important than dinner. I rose to go to the kitchen and the gun immediately swiveled my way.
“Where do you think you’re going?” A warning voice but his demeanor was calmer. This was a good thing.
“It’s dinnertime. I’m going to cook dinner. You want to eat eventually, don’t you? And do you have a name? I’m Cassidy.”
“Manny,” he said and let me cook. So much for the tying up threat. Maybe his hunger was outweighing his fear.
I’m not much of a cook, but I won’t ever starve to death either. I learned all my cooking from watching Martha, the ranch housekeeper, and Martha cooked for a crowd. I grew up on a ranch with four ranch hands, so dinner involved cooking for at least nine. Big men with big appetites. So there I was, single and cooking for a crowd. I’ve cut back some, but my Texas skillet is still the most used pot in the house. I thought of my options for chicken trying to think of a dish with lots of cutting and preparation time so Manny would get used to me walking around with sharp knives.
I chose my biggest, sharpest knife and cut the chicken into strips and put the pieces in a gallon size Ziploc bag. I added a bottle of Jamaica Mistake and squished the bag up to get all the chicken pieces coated. Then I let the bag sit while I cut up the vegetables.
Manny sat at the dining room table watching every move I made, punching numbers on the cell phone and grunting when the call didn’t go through again. Shadow stared at him since he was sitting in a place where food magically appeared on the floor. If I were alone, he’d be sitting under the cutting board because sometimes food magically appears under that, too.
I went to the refrigerator and got out onions, bell peppers and mushrooms and cut the onions and peppers into strips.
The best way to cook the meat would be to grill it, but that involved another trip to the backyard. Since the barbecue grill was just outside the door I hoped he’d let me use it. The more things he observed me doing in a calm manner, the more he’d be taken off guard when I made my break. I shook the meat bag a few more times and headed for the back door. I was met with a gun to the side of my head and my heart did a little flip flop at how fast it appeared there.
“I’m just lighting the barbecue. You don’t want this cooked on the stove.
It just isn’t the same.”
He lowered the gun and watched me closely as I opened the back door. Shadow shot outside to sniff around. I lit the grill and called Shadow back in the house. A few minutes later, I scraped the grill and added a grate so the chicken strips wouldn’t fall through. I did a final squish of the bag and placed the chicken on the grill. I went inside and sautéed the onions, bell peppers and mushrooms. I flipped over the chicken and then set the table. Nothing fancy. When you live alone, fancy doesn’t seem worth the bother. I microwaved some tortillas so we could eat the chicken soft taco style. I brought in the meat and mixed it up with the veggies. I set the whole mess, still in the Texas skillet on the table. Manny dug in and I got us each a glass of Coke.
This is the way I usually ate. I fixed a big batch of something and then ate the leftovers for a week straight. It looked like I wouldn’t have to do that this time. Manny was definitely going to help out in that department.
“I never want to see another hot dog or bologna sandwich for as long as I live,” he said.
“I’m not much of a cook but I don’t think you’ll starve to death here. Only thing is, I only keep a couple days worth of food at any one time here.”
Manny looked like he hadn’t eaten in days. He was really getting into this meal. In fact he hardly noticed me as he ate. I made a mental note of that. I was hoping to get some information out of him, but I thought I was getting more information just watching him than if I talked to him, so I stayed quiet. He never set down the gun, but his focus was on nothing but the plate in front of him. I got up and went to the kitchen and pretended to look around for something. His