Monday, December 27, 2004
It was the rush hour. I can distinctly remember the beautiful wafts of smoke emitted from the cone shaped spout of the 9 o’clock express. I took a quick glance at my watch. It was quarter pass eight. Fifteen minutes more, my mind wondered to what I had to do that day. Schedules, schedules, schedules, the same thing over and over again. My working life was dull as the walls of the white house.
On my left hand was my leash, my elegant dog was attached to it. Such an obedient dog, he was trained right before he came to my hand. He was an athletic dog, a golden retriever. I was told it worked for the American bomb diffusion specialist headquarters. But as Rocco had a minor injury on one of his hind legs, he retired from the force. He now lived in a condominium with me. I was a bachelor, Rocco was like my best friend, my wife and even my enemy sometimes when that nasty dog did his business on the floor instead of the toilet bowl they trained him to.
On my right hand I carried my brief case. With all the important documents inside, I was an executive manager in the company I was attached to. The company deals with foreign investments. I had a beautiful pay check every month. Nonetheless, it was really truly boring.
“So are we going to have fun at the vet today Rocco?”
My dog barked back in agreement.
“Good boy!”
The reason Rocco was being brought to the vet just before I go to work was that the injury he sustained when he was working in the force had to be checked again just as one never knows.
Our appointment with the vet was at 9:15. I knew I was on time, I woke up early that day just to bring my pet to get checked.
Rocco was one pet which was unorthodox, for one he loved the taste of fish. One mystery I could never solve. My greatest fear was for him to swallow one tiny fish bone. I wasted pounds buying boneless fish treats that were meant for cats for my dog. Rocco also liked to sleep anywhere he went, once he slept on the street when we were strolling. I had to carry him all the way home. The next day I grew big firm muscles.
Rocco had exquisite blue eyes that shone in the sun. I could stare into them for ever. They were just so enchanting, many a female dog has been mesmerized by his eye. Rocco was a lady killer. I wish I was.
His body was streamlined and covered with tufts of grey fur just like a Husky’s. His fur could make everyone feel like touching him, it gave him warmth in the winter and it covered his ugly bare skin. Rocco had three black stripes on him, similar to a tiger. Rocco was not very big in size if he stood up he could easily touch my shoulders. He was your average house dog. I took him home from the force free of charge as long as I promised to give him a good life. I pray I would.
The familiar sight came back to me. The train came in rumbling on the tracks, engulfing me and Rocco in black smoke. I gave a slight cough and Rocco looked up. I told him I was fine. It was funny ever since I owned a dog I keep talking to it like it was a human. Anyone who owned a pet would tell you the same thing.
The door came open and I hurriedly went into my compartment. A man carrying a bag came in after me we sat opposite each other. The man looked young, probably in his early twenties. His hair had a neat centre parting and he wore lovely black shoes. He had on a coat and jeans. The man looked at my dog and gave a smile. Rocco went ballistic. Barks could be heard all around our compartment. Rocco had gone out of his mind. The dog barked at the stranger at the top of his animal voice. If Rocco was a human, he would probably have shattered the glass windows in the train from his screams.
I hurriedly grabbed him and told him to keep quiet. He totally ignored me. I hugged him closer and whispered into his ear.
“Stop making such a din, this is a public place and you are embarrassing me.”
Rocco stared up at me with his sapphire eyes and went silent. The way he was barking was so frantic, I could not figure out what could have caused him to bark that loudly.
A thought surfaced to my mind. It sent a chill down my back. Rocco was an explosive detecting dog. Could Rocco have sensed or smelled explosives in that young man’s bag? Was he still sensitive to explosive after being away from the force for so long?? Thoughts raced through my mind. I felt it was going to explode. What should I do? Should I act like nothing happened? Should I inform the authorities? I remembered hearing the news a few days ago that a bomber blew himself up in a car and he killed almost thirty others. This spooked me. I felt as helpless as a turkey on Thanksgiving. I set there numb, cold sweat ran down from my head.
The train gave a jerk and started on its trip. It brought me back to my senses. I should not act like I suspect anything. I reassured myself that Rocco could be wrong. I patted the dog, comforting him. I was at a loss. What I had seen on television now seemed so real. I did not belief something like that could happen to me. I should stop entertaining these thoughts, it only gave me nightmares.
I imagine catching the young man and the police diffusing the bomb, saving many people. I imagine I was given a reward and I appeared in the newspaper as some sort of hero. I fantasized, those were impossible. The odds against the young man having a bomb were less than thirty percent. It could not be so accurate. I decide to look at the young man. See if he was acting strangely or cautiously. Those were obvious clues to suspect he was hiding something.
I took a quick glance. He looked ordinary, like it was any other day. It could be he was acting. No, nobody can keep so calm if they were carrying a bomb. I felt scared and at the same time I could not help appreciating how good at acting the young man was. He could have a gun pointing directly at me and act like he was asleep. He could trick anyone.
I still have my doubts about him having a bomb. I weighed my options. I was calm. I told myself either I get the bomb from him now or we all die. A plan formed in my mind. I was to charge forward with surprise and knock the young man out. I would than snatch his bag and I would check whether there is any bomb.
I was dumb back than, I had a cell-phone and I did not bother calling the police. It just slipped from my mind. I had a small ego in me that wanted to be the hero of the day. The newspaper headlines flashed across my eyes.
“Courageous man saves his dog and fifty other people”
“Smart and brave, a man did justice to the world today”
“Bomb threat being eliminated by this genius and his dog”
The evening times was screaming for people to be read about how I saved everyone. My picture appeared big everywhere on the front page of the newspapers. I would be known overnight as the Hero who saved us all.
The young man zipped open his bag, I decide it was now or never. I took a deep breadth and got myself ready. Just as I was about to pounce forward, the young man pulled out a bag of Fish Sticks.
“I know dogs don’t like to eat fish but why not try some of these to calm him down?”
Relief swept through my whole body.
3:47 PM
