Tales from the hermitage:
Lino cut by starchy
Bean toothed winos shuffled by, as I stood bewildered in front of a bleak and tarnished hotel on Duncan street. I flipped the vets business card over rechecking the hand written address again and again. Hoping to see a different number every time, but this was the place. This had to be some kind of mistake, I reasoned to myself, else why would Jack Russell puppies be for sale in this terrible hell hole?
A wall of darkness enveloped me as I stepped through the hotels main doorway and into what I sensed was a massive ornate ballroom. Only through the hollow acoustics could I tell that the room was immense, for I could not see a thing. All I could do was stand there at the entrance feeling exposed in an alien world, until my eyes began to adjust. Lurid smoke infested catacombs began to greet me, with dark boozehounds huddled over ancient and tired beer drench tables, like pigs at a trough. The pallid chamber was completely devoid of joy. Long ago, happiness had been knifed in the back, and dragged out and dumped in the alley. Through a weak pink nebulous light, echoed the haunting rifts of Led Zeppelin's, Kashmir. The smell of retch and puke mingled with piss and beer, chocked me to the edge of vomit.
My mind reeled as I absorbed the cold spinning circus around me, and I began considering scrapping the whole idea. As I passed beneath an enormous out of place crystal chandelier, hanging from a circular recess in the twelve foot ceilings, the hairs on my neck began to tingle. The chandelier seemed to be the roots of some giant evil tree, that had set down its crystalline tentacles, through the ceilings wood, tin and plaster to feed off the misery and stench beneath. Small blue moon lights encased like dead flies in its web, tripped and spilled bleak serpentine shadows over the room in all directions.
A consuming and oppressive sadness enveloped me, in a smoky haze of intense long suffering. My muscles pumped with adrenaline and my sense of awareness blitz to acute, like troops rushing to the front. Anything could happen here and probably had, as warning bells went ringing off all over my head. The fear and utter gloom that I felt under this tinkling monstrosity from another time, was almost more than I could bear.
“Can I help you?” inquired a tattooed, half naked waitress, on her way to feed the stock. “Cant you feel that” I said astonished and confused, while looking at her frightening pierced nose and ears. Holding my arms out in complete wonderment under the evil chandelier, like it was about to break water and give birth and drop its protégé right into my arms.
“Feel what?“ said the creepy goth creature, looking at me like I was from mars. “Its alive, I can’t believe you cant feel that!” I yelled over the eerie windy lyrics, that were still belching out their long drawn out melodies. “Look, do you want something or not! I ain’t got time for this shit?” said the defiant creature. I couldn't decide which was more bazaar, the evil growth above me or a blue poorly drawn cartoon figure of a lustful creature desecrating one half of her mammoth breast?
“Well?” came her voice again, as she used her free hand to raise my eyes above her neck. But this time her voice seemed to be coming from the other end of a long thin tube. Everything seemed washed out in the desolate tombs around me, like I was in some kind of trance. I suddenly became aware that the room had been literally roped off up the middle, with its ridiculous length failing miserably to separate the Ladies and escorts from the Men’s only section. With half its braided length snaking uselessly along the slimy floor, it lay in laughable contravention of some archaic code. While Liquor-hounds and tipplers on both sides of its useless partition, stared up at us with pitiless faces.
I had almost forgotten why I was there. This room was intensely wrong and I felt as though I’d been here forever, like I had frequented this terrible establishment in another life. And at one frightening interval I thought I heard my alter self, call out for another round? “What the fucks going on?” yelled some big lug. “This creep giving you trouble Kim?” added the dim sluggard, now zooming in our space and conservation. “Naw, nothing like that, he’s come to see the pups,” explained Kim, happy now that she was rid of me. “How did you know that?” I asked totally caught off guard by the comment. “You all look the same to me!” came her retreating reply.
“You, you’re the guy on the phone?” said Lenny, staring down at me and sweetly changing his tone. “Yes,” I replied in relief, now that I wasn’t going to get into some big scuffle. “Come with me then,” said the huge slothful man. "So you dont feel it either?" I said, jestering to the hidious sparkling monster living on the ceiling. "Ya , I feel it, but pay it no mind, and neither should you." added Lenny. I was just so relieved that I wasn't the only one, that I eagerly followed him into an empty side room. Almost welcoming the faint smell of urine and beer, compared to the nightmare back in main hall.
He pointed for me to be seated at a long bar, so I slid onto the first of many chrome pillared steel stools, that had been firmly fixed to the hardwood floors. They spoke of an era time had forgotten and oozed character that perfectly suited the place. A time when comfort for the boozehound, was the obvious main motivation for the design. The cool red and patched vinyl cushion felt foreign yet perfect under my weight, and bounced and sank delightfully on some internal mechanism.
I tapped at embalmed hard-boiled eggs, encased in glass on the ancient wooden bar, and waited until the busy factotum finished rounding the bar. The place had the soft and fascinating warmth of varnished wood, like the bright work on a yacht. Yet an alluring callous frontier ambiance that oddly appealed. The floors creaked and cracked underfoot in a very pleasing manner. They had been varnished and polished so often that you floated on a quarter inch of hardened resin, so that your soles never actually touched wood.
“Cant sit there!” came the first words of the man now playing bartender, as he came around wiping the long wooden bar. “That’s Ezekiel’s place.” As if I should have known that. I slid over one seat and in the huge bar mirror, caught the reflecting bartenders shaking disapproval saying “nope not there either.” “I’m looking to buy a dog do you have any left!” I said interrupting his silly game of musical chairs.
“Yup, their right here,” said Lenny pointing to the floor behind the bar. I slid over and knelt on another stool and knelt across from him and leaned up over the ancient bar. There squirming around in a big cardboard box were seven darling eight week old Jack Russell puppies. “Can I see them, where’s their mother?” I heard myself asking in my six year old voice. “Sure come around, I like to check out people before I allow them near the pups,” said the now grinning man.
“Good idea,” I thought to myself and raised the bar another notch in his favor. “I just let the bitch out back for a breather, her name is Molly” offered the now friendly breeder. I have all the papers and had her mated with a real champion. These are the real thing.” continued Lenny.
The sweet smell of puppy greeted me as I knelt beside their box. I couldn’t resist and stuck my head in among them. I was instantly loved to death, by little cold wet noses and tingles of joy ran over me. As they climbed over my head licking and sniffing and whining happily. It was heaven in hell, and I cant imagine a more wondrous smell in the world.
I wanted a passive but confident female, and the way to find that is to pick them up gently with both hands cupped under their bellies, while holding their paws just off the floor. Aggressive independent dogs, squirm and fight to be set free. Passive shy dogs just hang limp or hardly move. I tried each pup until I found a happy medium. This wonderful little female just hung there squirming slightly while trying to lick my wrists. She was perfect, I had found my pup. She would be a loyal pack member and not stray, yet she was independent, strong and confident.
After checking her out further I found that she had a small white diamond on her neck directly under her chin, contrasting sharply with her reddish brown coat. She had a unique marking that none of the other pups had, and was now easy to spot among her brothers and sisters. I returned her to her litter mates and picked up another at random, feigning interest, then put it back, I wanted the pup but now it was business and I didn’t want Lenny thinking I couldn’t resist buying one. After some dickering and me pretending to leave at such ridiculous prices I ended up buying the little female. Lenny who by this time had shown his true colors as a complete and utter dog lover finally gave me a good deal. “I can see that you love animals and that she’ll be happy with you. Do you have a name for her?” asked Lenny. “ Ya, Zibby!” I replied.
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