Where Dogs Sweat, Page 3
Keith Blenman
out of here!”
Some of water had sprayed onto the driveway by the garage. Daystar ran to the puddle and screamed, “You’ve got to hurry! Go! Evaporate! Before they pollute you! Please, hurry!” he stamped his feet and waved his arms to the clouds. “Go! Be free! Join your family!”
A door squealed open. “Boy!” Grandpa yelled.
Daystar jumped away from the sound. He looked up to see his grandfather standing at the backdoor in his briefs and slippers.
“I told you not to play in the sprinkler!” Grandpa snapped.
Daystar, as any semi-intelligent child should do when faced with an angry, half naked elderly man, ran for it. Screaming.
“Get back here, you!” Grandpa barked, charging.
From the bedroom window, Granny couldn’t help but laugh. She watched as her husband tried to catch up to the boy. Just as he would get close enough, Daystar would juke and run the other way. All around the yard. Through the sprinkler. Around the tree and back again. He was too much for the old man to handle.
Daystar ran through the water, still screaming, “Go! Don’t let him get you too!”
Grandpa stumbled a little but managed to keep close. “You are in so much trouble!” He panted. He tried to reach out and catch the boy, but Daystar spun around and ran the other way.
Grandpa turned and ran three steps toward him, but then tripped and smacked his face into the grass
Upstairs, Granny covered her mouth.
Daystar made it to the other side of the sprinkler before he realized he’d escaped his attacker. When he turned around, he saw Grandpa lying face down. Without thinking, he trotted over.
Granny opened the window. “Sam?” She yelled.
“Grandpa!” Daystar screamed.
“I’m okay,” Grandpa yelled back. He remained still another moment before lifting his head to see what he’d tripped over.
Had the rock been sentient, it would’ve said, “That’s for thirty years of having to put up with lilacs.”
Grandpa shook his head and sat up. He looked down at himself. Wet, dirty, and with scrapes on his knees. It was hot out. “Boy,” he said.
“It was the rock,” Daystar pointed.
“I see that,” Grandpa said. He looked back and forth between his skinned knees and the sprinkler. He asked, “Didn’t I tell you not to play with that?”
“I was saving the water,” Daystar defended.
“Yeah?” Grandpa sighed, feeling the heat of the sun on his brow. He smiled at the thought. That’s why the boy was screaming. “Well,” Grandpa placed a heavy hand on Daystar’s shoulder. “Keep saving it then. Granny and I are going to keep being grown ups.” He then used his grandson as a crutch and stood.
“Okay, Grandpa,” Daystar said.
“Be good,” Grandpa pat him on the head, limping inside. “I’ll have to do something with that rock later.”
“Okay, Grandpa.” He then looked at the rock and whispered, “You’re in so much trouble.”
Had the rock been sentient, it would’ve shrugged and said, “Oh, I'm not too worried. I’ll survive all of you."
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About the Author
Native to Michigan, Keith Blenman is an author, teacher, and all around swell guy.
Other books by this author
Please visit your favorite ebook retailer to discover other books by Keith Blenman:
The Vecris
Whisper (A prelude to Necromantica)
Necromantica
The Ferrelf Trilogy (coming soon)
Roadside Attraction
Book One: Siren Night
Book Two: Tramp Stamp Vamp (coming soon)
Book Three: Ruff Stuff (coming slightly less soon)
Other fiction
Bartered Breath
Bonnie Before The Brain Implants
Braaaaaains
Entrees & Statistics
Acknowledgements
Thank you Tom Budday, Corrine Camero, Nate Squires, Christina Irwin, Mom, Dad, and my brothers Mike, Josh, Dan, and Chris.
Very special thanks goes to Edoichi Boura for his creative book cover.
Connect with Keith Blenman
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