Chet The Dog

Posts Tagged ‘Mesquite Rd.’

Like A Big Pizza Pie

“They’ve found water on the moon,” Bernie says. We’re out on the patio behind our house on Mesquite Road. It’s night, the moon is shining, Bernie’s smoking a cigarette even though he’s trying to quit and I’m enjoying the smell of the smoke, whenever the breeze blows some my way. “See what this means?”

Water on the moon? I’m no expert when it comes to color, Bernie says, but water is usually blue. I gaze up at the moon, see no blue, just a big shining white ball.

He taps off some ash and gazes up at the moon, too. We gaze up together.

“It means that one day we’ll be living up there,” he says. “For absolute sure.”

Whoa. I like it right here on Mesquite Road. A cloud drifts over, covering the moon. I feel uneasy.

Film Curating

Hey! Iggy could really run! It had been so long since he’d been free that I’d forgotten. The little guy could scoot.

“Stop him, for God’s sake,” Kelo Printz shouted.

I took off. Was it to stop Iggy? Not so sure about that. He scampered down Mesquite Road, trailing all that coiling film. I charged after him. He darted through someone’s yard, into the back, and whoa! What was this? A little path leading into the canyon? How come I didn’t know about this? We ran into the canyon, down a gully, up onto a ridge, dust rising, side by side, me nipping at the film from time to time – how come Iggy got to have it? – and tiny scraps of it tearing off and blowing away. Were we having fun or what?

Mr. Singh

The tax numbers didn’t work, so we had to visit Mr. Singh. Have I mentioned Mr. Singh? Bernie has a watch that belonged to his grandfather. Not Mr. Singh’s grandfather – Bernie’s. Forget about Mr. Singh’s grandfather. Bernie’s grandfather had a ranch right where we live now on Mesquite Road, but way bigger, going on and on. The watch stays in the safe until our finances get really messy. Then we take it to Mr. Singh.

“Ah, Bernie and Chet,” said Mr. Singh. “What  a busy year I am having, and this is the busiest day in it.” He took the watch. “My very favorite timepiece – I would love to take it to Antiques Roadshow. Will they ever come to the Valley?”

“Don’t know,” Bernie said. “But you’d be a star.”

Mr. Singh gave a shy smile. I like that shy human smile, eyes looking down, feet shuffling. He handed over some money. “Time for a bite or two of curried goat, if I happened to have some warming in the back?”

If he happened to have some warming – that was a good one. I’d smelled that curried goat while we were pulling into Mr. Singh’s parking lot. I headed toward the back of Mr. Singh’s shop, trying hard not to run.