BY JOEL TAGERT BEST OF BIRDY 029 “Watch out for spiders,” Harry told him before he went out. “Ha, ha,” Devin hefted his toolkit. “I’m serious. Knew a guy one time, spider was hanging out on top of this old digger ...” “Tell you what, I’ll watch out for a fuel pump for a ‘53 Nissan. But don’t worry, I’ll make sure it doesn’t bite me in the neck.” Actually there were eight items on his list. Hopefully it wouldn’t take him too long, because it was cold as fuck all outside. He let the door to the trailer slam shut and stepped out into the junkyard pulling on some insulated work gloves and putting up the hood of his Carhartt. Cheyenne winters were no joke. He whistled for Sheroy Brown, but the dog didn’t come. Whistled again, waited. Nothing. Where was she? Devin stomped around to the dog house, wind nipping at his ass, the skies clouded. He ducked his head down, needlessly, because he could see Sheroy wasn’t in there. Where was that bitch? You would think with the weather she’d want to stay in her house, where it was warm. So instead of heading toward the north corner of the yard, where he knew there were a couple Nissans, he turned toward the fence and started walking the perimeter, calling and whistling. Jeez, he should have let her into the trailer at night. It was criminal to keep her out like this, even if they had run a vent right out to her house from the trailer. No. 137 Only reason she didn’t sleep in the trailer was because of fucking Harry. Fat sonofabitch said she got hair over everything, made the office look bad. Like anyone gave a flying fuck at a rat’s ass what a junkyard office looked like. After today he’d tell his uncle that Sheroy was sleeping in the trailer, and if Harry was still being a dick about it, she could just come home with Devin and stay in his apartment. Fuck what the landlord said. On the east side the snow was drifted right up against the vehicles. Chain link and barbed wire might keep out thieves, but it didn’t do shit for snow. His work boots were laced up tight, but even so by the time he got through the drift he could feel snow melting on his shins. He’d made almost a complete circuit of the perimeter when he saw it: a spot where the chain link had been pulled out of the ground and pressed upward, leaving just enough room for a dog to wiggle through. Well, there was the answer. He was surprised Sheroy would try it, but apparently there’d been something out in the wide world she wanted to chase. He looked out at the hills, the blanched stalks of grass waving feebly from the snow, hearing the trucks dopplering past on the highway and the wind making static in his ears. “Fuck.” Hopefully she would come home. Hopefully she wasn’t dead on the highway. He considered taking the Ford to go look for her, but ... hell, she could still be in the junkyard somewhere.
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