Vic Daniel 6 - As she rides by

the rounds, I asked the assembly again if anyone had a question, this time looking pointedly at Evonne. Before she could get her question in, however, Harrison , Citizen, popped in with a dozen questions of his own that had to be dealt with.
    Finally Evonne said, “Mr. Jameson, is there any other legal procedure open to Mr. Gall by which he might expedite matters in his favor?”
    “None,” Mel said, “as far as I am aware.”
    “Hallelujah,” Marv said.
    “Amen,” the twerp said, waving the rattle over her head.
    “Mr. Jameson,” Mr. Gall said, “what if the principals behind the action—namely those two (meaning me and Joe)—withdrew their objections? In the light of further developments, shall we say?”
    “Then it would be withdrawn,” Mel said, with a shrug.
    “How quickly?”
    “Almost immediately; just one more piece of paper for a judge to sign, there shouldn’t be any real delay.”
    “Thank you,” Mr. Gall said. Joe nodded once. Harrison, Citizen, had finished examining the rattle and had passed it on to me; I retrieved the somewhat garish box it came in from Taffy, put the rattle back in, then absentmindedly put the box away in a drawer. When the party started breaking up a few minutes later, I remembered to retrieve it and ceremoniously hand it over to its so-called rightful owner, Joe the Scandahoovian.
    Mr. Gall and Ms. Garrison were the first to leave.
    “Thanks for coming, Mr. Gall,” I called out. “Bye, Ms. Garrison!” I thought I heard one of them mutter, “Up yours,” but I might have been mistaken. “Mind the dog as you go.” What they did mind, I noticed— in fact, closely eyeballed—was the new sign on my front door which said I was but a humble accountant and income tax consultant. Then they turned left, out of sight; I figured they’d parked in the alley out back because out front was full up or maybe they just wanted to walk around their new fence to admire it.
    Harrison, Citizen, was the next to leave, after a few more probing questions, including a futile attempt to find out what Evonne’s phone number was, I happened to overhear. As soon as he’d disappeared, we allowed ourselves a few minutes of mutual congratulations all around; King, who I’d let back in, getting his highly deserved share as well. Then Joe left, twenty dollars (of mine) richer, then Taffy, then Elroy. I had a quick word with Elroy before his departure, telling him of my soon-to-be homeless plight and asked him to keep his ears open for something suitable, as in cheap. He said he would.
    Then Joe came back for the shopping bag full of his old clothes, into which he stuffed the relic, then he left again. Then Marv took himself off, saying he couldn’t wait to get out of his uniform and into a strawberry daiquiri, closely followed by the padre and Mel. Finally only Benny and I and the ladies and the dog were left. I suggested we all go out somewhere trendy together and celebrate. Benny said he couldn’t, he had to meet this mink rancher later. He left.
    “Well, girls,” I said brightly, “looks like it’s just us three and de dawg.”
    “Eh, Victor,” Evonne said, “you’ll have to count us out, right, Sara? Her parents are taking us to a concert and there’s no way we can get out of it.” My beloved blushed slightly and turned away.
    “Gee, that’s right,” the twerp said, snapping her fingers. “I almost forgot.” And off they went with much merry chatter and girlish laughter, the rotten fibbers.
    “Well, King,” I said, “looks like it’s just us.” He wagged his tail. “I’ll tell you this, too, my friend—maybe it is true that without lies humanity would perish of despair and boredom, but they still hurt a guy.” King wagged his tail once again, wobbled over to his blanket, then passed out.
    “Well, big fella,” I said, “looks like it’s just me. I know the perfect place, too—it’s chic, it’s in, it gets a real fun crowd, and it’s called the nearest bar.”
    While I was tidying up I noticed that King’s breathing was becoming deeper and more labored. I wasn’t too worried at first, but when I went to him and cradled his head in my hands and tried to wake him up, and he wouldn’t, then I got very worried very quickly. I picked him up, blanket and all, ran outside, slammed the door, then made tracks the two blocks west to the vet who’d given King his vaccinations for rabies and distemper and then his booster shots a couple of months back. Ian