At midday, from behind the concrete square building, a folk lift approached the parking lot. It veered past a 16 wheeler truck by the lumber yard and came towards the front end of the building. Antonio, a middle-aged Hispanic man stood waiting for him. “Do you have the receipt?” he said. “Yes!” Antonio gave him his receipt, glanced at it, then gave it back to him. “Okay, park your truck over there and i will be right with you.” “Thank you amigo!” Around 4pm, he clocked out, got into his car and drove home.
Driving on 405 between 3 and 6pm can be extremely frustrating in Los Angeles. After sitting 45 minutes on the freeway amid traffic, he took the Sepulveda boulevard exit towards LMU. From there, he drove straight home to Culver city. He’s been up since 6am and working minimum wage had sucked the life out of him. He dragged his 165 pounds, 6’3″ frame up the stairs towards his apartment. On the kitchen table, a note from his girlfriend read “Please walk the dog! Love you.” He went to the refrigerator, grabbed a beer, turned on the television and sat on the couch. Butch, their dog, came and sat right next to him…waiting. “All right! Let’s go boy.” Butch launched out of the couch towards the door barking and wagging his tail anxiously.
At the end of Barrington avenue before Eden park, stood Wong’s liquor store. He always buys his liquor there every time he walks the dog. It was a quiet Saturday afternoon- birds were frolicking in the trees absorbing the fading heat of the sunset. People jogged about along the concrete path. He stood there waiting for Butch as he sniffed about the oak tree. Dexi- poodles are known for their great sense of smell. He grabbed a flask from his back pocket and took a shot of Jack.
The day was getting darker and it was harder for him to spot Butch but he never lost sight of him. Then from a distance, it seemed like a dark figure was approaching with an incredible speed towards his direction. A young woman was screaming after it as it got louder and louder when she got closer. All of a sudden, it was too late. The ragged 200 pounds Pit bull clenched its tight jaws around Butch’s neck and violently shook it back and forth like a great white shark upon a helpless seal; spraying spurs of blood across the dead leaves. “Oh MY GOD! WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT! DO SOMETHING!” she screamed powerlessly as she attempted to pull her dog away. On the contrary, he stood there motionlessly staring at all the commotion. No one was able to tell what was going on in his head. Then she screamed again, “HELLO!” at him. All of a sudden without forethought, he reached under his shirt behind him, grabbed his 9mm Heckler and Koch, and squeezed a bullet right to the dog’s head. Birds scattered in the air from the sound of the trigger. Suddenly the world was quiet. As if something had never happened! Police sirens echoed from a distance. She looked at him, speechless, then she belched out a huge scream. Her shriek ended abruptly with another gun shot; ending the surreal moment of beautiful walk in the park.