Daddy and the man stood by the man’s rusty black pick-up truck at the edge of the driveway. Mama sat in our car while my sister and I sat in the sandy driveway and clung to the spotted dog. Both men looked down at the dog and then out towards the green shimmering fields.
“Spec still running high?” Daddy asked. The man looked back at the dog. “Now that you mention it, he did right poorly yesterday.” My dad nodded his head sorrowfully. “Mm Hmm.”
“Ever able to train him out of pointing at doves?”
The man looked up. “He points doves?” Again, my dad looked mournful. “Frank probably didn’t mention that when he sold him to you. You can understand?”
The man looked over at the dog again. Spec was wagging his tail cautiously. My sister and I were still wrapped around the black and white spotted dog. His cracked brown leather collar rough against my hand.
“I’d be happy to take him back. I’ll give you ten dollars more than you paid Frank.”
The man looked unsure. “Don’t know. He’s got a good line…”
“Sure,” said Daddy. “But you know there’s always the outlier.”
The man spit tobacco into the puddle near his mud-caked shoes. They looked so different from Daddy’s. His shoes were worn too but they still shown. Every night I’d watch him take out his shoe polish kit and clean and buff them. “You can tell a lot about a man by his shoes.” he’d say.
Mama called from inside the blue Buick.
“Carroll, it’s a long drive home … we’ve got to get the girls home.”
The man glanced at the car, then looked at my sister and me hanging on the dog. “Alright. I reckon he ain’t gonna work for me. What with the doves and all.”
A slow grin slid across Daddy’s face. His blue eyes sparkled, and he reached out his hand. The men shook on it and Daddy reached into his pocket and took out his slim money clip. He counted out five twenties, all that he had.
“Joan, honey, do you have any cash?”
I saw my mother’s mouth tighten. My stomach clenched. I’d heard their hushed tones arguing about money on the drive over. She only had enough money for the five of us to eat dinner on the way home. She reached down into her purse, which she’d been clutching tightly in her lap.
The man shook his head. “No, no. I’ll take what I paid your uncle. Seein’ as how this one’s a dud.”
The man looked back at the car again.
“How long’s your drive?”
Daddy squinted and looked up at the sky as if that would tell him the distance.
“Oh, about four hours.”
The man peered into the car with a baby seat and all our stuff in the backseat.
“How you gettin’ him home?”
Daddy’s grin widened and showed his straight white teeth.
“Funny thing, turns out Spec loves to ride in the trunk.”
The man spit out another stream of tobacco juice and laughed.
“You don’t say.”