The Girl Zone: Seven. Nanouk & James

James came inside, carrying the paper. He was wagging his tail, thumping it loudly against the kitchen cabinet door. Nanouk thanked him, and James let go of the paper, exchanging it to a tasty sausage. He was so good at bringing the paper inside all the way from across the street, the news was never punctured by teeth marks. Sure, there was the occasional line of drool, but that was alright, usually it went across the economy and politics sections, and who really cared for those anyway?

James sat by the door, his floppy ears in a vigilant posture, the big black dog ever watchful, checking out what was going on next. It was always good to know these things. For instance, right now there were no clean plates in the kitchen, and neither of the sisters was feeling like doing the washing up, so Mimou selected a flat pantyhose package from the garbage and placed her sandwich on top of it.

The sounds of kids playing in the near-by playground lingered through the wide-open balcony door, along with a soft, almost ethereal wind, and the sharper, metallic sound of lawn being mowed added some urgency to the mix. The smell of the wind in the trees, and of freshly cut grass caught James’ sensitive nose. He figured it was almost time to go, soon. It was summer, because it was hot, and green all over, and all around there were intoxicating smells intermingling in an ecstatic way. Odds were James might be allowed to go swimming.

Woman and Girl were sitting at the table right now, so first things first: he needed to make sure they weren’t perhaps dropping anything on the floor by mistake, or, a more attractive scenario, on purpose. More of those lovely sausages, maybe, or a piece of fluffy, delicious, buttered bread. A wiener might be nice. A few spoonfuls of liver casserole. Perhaps some biscuits. Whatever happened to be part of the day’s menu, or just laying about on the table with no other purpose.

Now Girl reached out her hand! Oh, joy! But no, she was only interested in scratching him under his chin, well okay. That was nice enough, too. James started to pant a little, just for fun. “Is the little boy thirsty?” Woman asked, and got up to freshen the water in his dish. It was looking like that was the most he was going to get right now, so up he got, walked to the bowl lazily, and took a few idle licks. Some drops got caught in his whiskers, but Woman and Girl appeared to find them adorable, so he might as well let them hang in there.

Girl got up and returned the improvised paper tray into the thrash. First she showed it to James, though, and he did sniff it, ever hopeful for at the very least some Pedigree pellets, but it seemed as if Girl was just expecting him to get all excited over the cardboard package itself. Balls. Well, sure, he sometimes felt like roughing up some toilet paper shells when the mood hit him, but it was just some ridiculous fun for pups and not very dignified anyway. The pantyhose package though? Come on.

James showed Girl he was dismissing the package by moving his deep and meaningful gaze to the beautiful, gleaming chunk of butter on the counter, but Girl made no effort whatsoever to hand him this enormously fragrant and delicious piece of goods for further study. Dang! He had no doubt Woman had told Girl about the time when she had had to run to the store, in the middle of baking, forgetting to return the untouched butter back to the fridge, and James had realized all of a sudden, during the five minutes she was gone, that he was just able to reach it on the counter. He had devoured the whole package, wrapping paper and all, in one quick second. Oh, it was such happiness! Except of course Woman had been so mad. James’ whiskers had been gleaming with butter, and he had done his absolute best to appear as though he was sorry, but truthfully, he had been ecstatic. So good and tasty!

Woman grabbed the old leather leash. At last! Oh, nobody could be this happy! He wagged his tail so hard he was drumming all over the place, the drawer, the open bathroom door. Girl put on her striped espadrilles, and so they were out. The path had huge poplars on both sides, and the entire dirt road, as well as the lawn, was full of white, cottony fluff, as the trees were shedding their seed. It was all over the neighborhood, on everybody’s shoes and hair, on balconies, and surely, on James’ paws and ears and back and belly and whiskers and tail and brows and on the entire dog, as he really got into the frolic mode, rubbing himself all over the fuzz covered lawn, thinking that it was snowing in summer, what fun! Onwards, then!

The sun was high still, even though the day was turning into evening. A bit further down the road, behind the children’s laughter and yipping, James could smell the salty aroma of the sea and hear the waves as they hit the sandy shore in foamy white lace and the yelling of the seagulls as they were trying to figure whose turn it was to dive for food and whose to laugh about it, and there was a group of teens, too, playing beach volley on the hot sand. 

Young, nubile, virginal bodies dressed in almost nothing, bodies touching as the boy and the girl both dove for the ball, bumping into each other in midair, and how pleasurably they both fell on the sand, laughing, getting their sweaty bodies all sandy all over, the hugely erotic promise of something more in the air, in both their eyes, and the boy had to quickly think about Gramma’s Chicken Salad so as not to have the whole beach witness how hot he was for the girl, he knew he was smelling of summer and sweat and youth and temptation, and how gorgeous she was, in her tiny bikini, and her mouth was half open as she looked at him, and he could see she would, it was all over her, on her face, on her breasts, on her flat, bronzed stomach, even on her perfectly round, stunning young woman’s buttocks. Theirs would be the night, tonight, but right now, it was game on, opposite team serving, okay. James barked, smiling and approving. That’s right, brother, work it, do it, it’s all good and grand!

Their walk took them to a more sheltered stretch of the beach, an uncrowded part, where Woman sometimes let James roam free and go swimming, if they were the only ones there. Now, of course, they weren’t. James yielded to staying on the leash as they strolled in the waves, Girl took off her espadrilles and boldly wet her feet. The sand was smooth, with the occasional specs of small pebbles here and there. Further up the beach, there were lots of decaying and rotting sticks and reeds and all sorts of small thrash, the kind one would always find near the sea. James bounced around, jubilantly and with great glee, in the little water permitted to him today. Splash! Splash! Splash! He was laughing and panting, he looked at Woman, his mistress, with his dark brown eyes, laced with thick black lashes. My love! My love, look at what I’m doing! Look, my love, here I bounce, like this and like this, and like this I bounce, spraying the water all over us! Look, my love!

Now they had passed the people, there were no others now, so Woman did unleash James after all. “Okay, go!” she whispered in his floppy ear, and he, understanding perfectly, bolted into a voluptuous run. He was running and laughing amid the slimy reeds, stopped to sniff around a little, took a slippery branch into his mouth. As he approached Woman and Girl, they both dodged, laughing and saying it was gross. Woman picked up a cleaner and lighter stick from the sand, and James, following her train of thought like lightning, dropped his slimy branch immediately and froze, ears akimbo, waiting for the throw. And whoosh! Alright, into the water! James ran out against the waves, swam up to the stick, retrieved. Again! Throw it again! We’re playing! Now it was Girl’s turn to throw.

With humility and reluctance, James allowed himself to be contained again, and the threesome began their leisurely ascent back towards the town. “What do you think about Pasta Carbonara?” Woman was asking Girl. Pâté? I love pâté! James stretched his head upwards from checking out the side of the road, remembering the delicious, mushroomy taste of liver pâté. He barked in acquiescence, and both humans stopped to stroke and pat his wide, wet head. “You are a yum, Jimbo honey honey, so darling baby boy”, both kept cooing. James closed his eyes and began starting the engine with his right hind leg, as Woman was scratching him at the exactly right spot under the belly. What a life this was!

“Now my hands have the wet dog smell!” Girl was laughing. Her laughter was sparkly and high, a giggle that came out of her mouth in pastel colored swirls and small tornadoes, spreading throughout the parking lot in front of the grocery store, passing through folks going in and out of the store. Woman laughed in contralto tones, a hum almost. It was the most familiar sound James knew, a voice he always waited for first thing in the morning, and last at night. A secure and safe voice, invigorating, and the source of all James' happiness, a firm Here, boy! and Sit! and Good boy! Woman’s voice was pure, absolute love. James was panting in excitement, ears alert, his brown eyes looking intensely as Woman moved away from him and inside the store. She was wearing rubber-soled sneakers, and the sound the shoes made on the asphalt was a soft sqrt-sqrt.

After James was gone, a thick yellow web grew around Woman’s heart, so thick in fact, that her whole heart looks like a yellow speck. James is sitting and laughing inside the heart, drumming away with his tail against the floor boards, looking at her with his brown eyes. When Nanouk is moving, James follows her, just far enough not to bother her pace, but also close enough so that he’ll know what is going on. It is always good to know these things.

We’ll miss you forever

Inspirations and connections: Brown Eyed Girl by Van Morrison, Jules et Jim by Henri-Pierre Roché, Cujo by Stephen King, Joey’s famous salad line on Friends.