Inheritance

Chapter 6, Husky Pup

The truck parked in the small, and rather unevenly paved lot in front of several stores. The general store looked just the same as it had-- a dark green tiled roof and a peachy colored storefront with an awning out front. The same "25¢ snow cone" hand-painted sign was in the window, but the colors from the bright reds and blues to pastels. Aside from aging, it seemed nothing in this small but very spread-out town had changed at all.

Next to the general store appropriately titled "The General Store", there was a grocery store, Louie's with the same green roof and peach walls. It also appeared to be a restaurant, as there were a few people sitting outside in chairs with sandwiches and soda cans. Lastly in the minuscule shopping center, there was a gas station/auto repair shop. I'd definitely have to visit that shop to see what they could do for my grandpa's completely useless car, which didn't even try to start up when I had turned the key earlier this morning. And the rust... it looked like it'd been abandoned at the side of his house.

Fox handed me his cell

"I'm heading over to Louie's to go get my truck looked at. Let's swap #'s and I'd be happy to drop you off after."

I shook my head

"You've done so much already, I can't..."

He held up his hand and then typed

"I seriously don't mind. Plus, I'd like to get to know you. No one new ever comes here."

I smiled and held out my phone to him with the contacts open. He smiled back and typed in his name. First: Fox; Last: Hunt; Company: Welcoming Committee President *balloon emoji* he returned it, smirking. I rolled my eyes, also cracking a grin

"Thanks."

I put my information into his phone. First: Summer; Last:Wolfe, Company: Noob.

I got out of the truck, admiring its shiny forest green paint as it pulled away toward the auto repair shop. Fox gave me the peace sign. I waved and turned toward the general store.

There were outside displays of wind catchers, a few bikes, and a myriad of brightly-colored inflated boats and pool floats that locals could buy and take to the lake. There was so much to look at before even entering the store, and my stomach growled for breakfast, but something completely different captured my attention. A weathered cardboard box, labeled "FREE PUPPIES" right in the sun. I wasn't a dog person because of the incident when I was 7, but I was no monster either. At the very least I needed to push the box out of the sun before the day got too hot. As I walked closer to the box I saw that there was one little puppy inside. Its blue eyes peered up at me, and its small, pointy black ears flattened against its head. Was it scared of me? It's whole body and face were black velvet, but its chest had a small dash of white. It was a beautiful little thing... and as much as I expected to fear it, I felt sorry for it. I felt angry for it. Someone left it and its siblings in a box in the sun with no food or water. People had probably passed it all day, and maybe even yesterday. And it was the last one to be picked, out of all of them. How must that feel? Watching each of your siblings be taken away and then you're left alone in the sun.

I moved the box to the shade under the awning, between the bikes and the floaties and marched in the store, intent on getting cleaning supplies. I walked down isle 2 with a shopping cart, looking at neon cleaning solutions, trying to choose which one would be good for hard wood floors... I'd need a new mop, and a bucket, and gloves, and puppy food, and a broom I thought, before I cut myself off. Puppy food? Before my mind could wander too far into the idea of raising a puppy along the lake, I shook my head. I grabbed two bottles of solutions and a dust pan, got a sponge, and then my mind drifted again to the idea of walking a dog, playing fetch, a dog swimming in the lake. A dog cuddling on my feet while I painted. Snuggling with it in my bed. My cart made a U-turn and I left it by the store doors, and walked back outside to claim that puppy. It'd been 14 years since I'd voluntarily come into contact with a dog, but the years melted away as I took the squirming, excited pooch into my arms and held her against my chest. Her tail wiggled and her tongue lapped at my chin. I realized that her back left leg was hanging kind of funny... I would have to get her checked out anyway at a vet. I'd mention this. I brought her into the store and rolled my cart with one hand toward the check-out. I asked an employee, who's face was buried by long chestnut hair and a gossip magazine