Rhistmaege

Alley Hanging

Dovi leaned against the tavern wall as he waited for the barman to finish puffing on his pipe.

Before I turn gray! My lord, how much time can one person waste?

Finally, the door groaned open and slapped closed against the frame. Dovi made his way to the far end of the alley and ducked into the side of an old, abandoned wood crate.

"Prrrrrrr. Prrrrrrr," greeted the darkness. A warm softness rubbed against his side.

"Hey, how's Gussie today?" He ran his hand across the black cat's back. She arched and rubbed her whiskers against his thigh. The purring grew louder with each stroke.

"Like that?" He lowered his face towards her, then pulled his head back sharply as she brushed against his chin. "You shocked me a bit there." Dovi brushed the lingering sting with the tip of his finger. "What was that all about? Oh, I've got something for you." He pulled a wedge of beef pie wrapped in a cloth napkin from his pocket. Gussie greedily chowed down on it. At least some of us are taken care of.

Dovi rubbed a hand across his creased forehead. What would happen if I did go to Triple V's? Couldn't take you with me. Maybe Rabby could feed you? Gussie sat back, yawned, and began licking at her front paws.

"Wish I could take you home. If it wasn't for him, I'd give you half a beef pie every day and have Mom sew you up a pillow bed. She-" Dovi's head snapped around at the sound of voices in the alley.

Gussie jumped across his thigh and raked him deeply with her back claws as she propelled herself through the crate's opening. So much for counting on each other.

Dovi backed himself into a corner, pulled knees to chest and held his breath. Footsteps echoed down the alleyway and came to a stop outside the crate. Please let it be some delivery men for the Rag-Tab.

The waiting was more than Dovi could handle. He pressed an eye against the edge of the rough crate. Whack! Something hard slammed viciously against the crate. Dovi jerked away, grabbing at his cheek. Laughter erupted around him. It's them.

"You're in my alley Dopi," came the acid tinged voice of Lebonicus Lane.

"You're in my air Dumbinicus," called Lebonicus' sniveling heavy, Vis Cawstecke.

"You're in for a beatin'," said another.

"Not enough ur-ines fellas," added Lebonicus.

Boots shuffled to the crate's side. Cries and giggles intermixed with "Yeah. Do it. Go ahead."

Dovinicus sat still and prayed for some divine assistance. His call for help went unheeded. A steaming, yellow stream trickled down through the top of the crate, showering him with a sickly wetness.

His tormentors whooped and hollered. "That's the ur-ine I'm talking about!" said Lebonicus.

"Your Dad's gonna whip you twice now piss boy," shouted another.

Dovi's tears mixed with the mess dripping down his face. Make them go away. Somebody make them go away.

"Alright, alright, we've had our fun. Come out like a man. Vis has graciously volunteered to pay for a bath at The Rosedian Rose. Word of honor. Nobody lays a hand on you. Won't be like last time," said Lebonicus.

Dovi wiped his face, then pinched at the smoothness between his nose and upper lip. His eyes swung side to side. "Leave me alone," called Dovi with less fire than he had intended.

"Can't just piss and run. Wouldn't be respectable," said Lebonicus.

Dovi caught the hint of a whisper. He strained to hear.