The Phantom Photograph Page 2

  “Not at all,” Ryan replied, handing it to him.

  The old man began to examine the object. It was a plastic caster wheel with a metal screw attached. “Can I look at the bag, too?” he asked.

  Ryan flipped the suitcase upside down so Sal could see where it attached.

  The wheel was meant to screw into a hole in the bag’s plastic base. Sal could see that the threads in the hole were stripped. This made the hole too large; allowing the screw to fall out.

  “Phyllis?” Sal asked. “Do you have a toothpick in your purse?”

  “I’m sure I do…” she said, and started rummaging around in her giant bag.

  Ryan hid a smile. Finding a toothpick in that bag would be like finding a needle in a haystack, he thought.

  Suddenly, Teeny popped his head out of the big bag, a container of toothpicks in his mouth.

  “Good boy!” Phyllis said. She took the toothpicks from the tiny dog and handed them to Sal.

  “Mom, that’s amazing!” Ryan exclaimed. “How did you teach him to do that?”

  “I didn’t teach him. Teeny just started doing it on his own.” Phyllis said, fondling her cherished pet. “He likes to be helpful,” she added.

  The tiny dog wagged his tail and stuck his chest out proudly.

  Sal took one of the toothpicks broke it into smaller pieces. He carefully placed the bits along the sides of the screw hole. As he screwed the wheel back in, the slivers of wood filled the gap, resulting in a snug fit.

  Sal tightened the screw as much as he could and said, “Now if only I had a pair of…”

  Teeny interrupted with a bark. The tiny dog sat atop the giant bag; a pair of pliers at his feet.

  “Thanks Teeny,” Sal said with a chuckle. He petted Teeny and took the pliers. He used them to finish tightening the wheel, and then handed them back to the little dog; who stowed them back in the enormous purse.

  He put the suitcase right side up and wheeled it back and forth a few times before handing it back to Ryan. It worked perfectly.

  “Wow, thanks, Sal,” Ryan said.

  Mom always told me how clever he was, Ryan thought. As they headed toward the exit, Ryan wondered what else he might learn about his future father-in-law.

  As they approached the door, the man with the baseball hat rushed past them, pushing the dog crate. In his haste, he accidently bumped the crate into Phyllis’s walker. Teeny jumped free as the giant purse toppled over. The overstuffed bag seemed to erupt as it hit the floor, scattering its contents.

  “Oops! Sorry lady,” the man said.

  Teeny sniffed the dog crate curiously. A furry brown nose poked out to sniff him back.

  The man steered the dog crate around Phyllis’s huge handbag, and hurried out the door.

  “Are you alright, mom?” Ryan asked.

  Phyllis nodded.

  They began gathering the clutter from her purse. Sal used his cane to sweep some random objects into a pile, and Teeny retrieved some items that slid away.

  “That guy should have at least offered to help clean up,” Ryan remarked, depositing a box of crayons and a shoehorn back in the colossal bag.

  “I guess some folks are just too busy to be polite,” Phyllis said with a shrug.

  Beside his obvious rudeness, there was something else about the man that didn’t seem right to Ryan. He frowned; his neck prickling, as he picked up a toilet brush, an onion, and a photograph.

  Ryan blinked in surprise and stared at the photo. Four seniors standing in front of a waterfall stared back at him.

  I need to get my eyes checked, Ryan thought as he put photo in the bag.

  At first glance, the figures in the photo appeared to be moving.

 

  Chapter 5

  Sam wore a sly grin as he met his partner Rodney in the airport parking lot.

  “What are you smirkin’ at?” Rodney asked him. Sunlight glinted on Rodney’s red hair as he opened the back of the van.

  Sam pointed to the dog crate beside him. “Using this dog to smuggle the stolen coins was a brilliant idea. She started whimpering at the security check point, and the guard felt so bad, he just let us pass right through.” Sam chuckled at the memory. “What a chump!”

  Rodney stared at the little brown dog in the crate. She looked miserable. “You mean the coins are inside the dog?” he asked, incredulous.

  “Not so loud!” Sam cautioned Rodney, looking around nervously. “But yes, the dog was the perfect package to transport the coins… no one suspected a thing.”

  “Where did you get the dog?” Rodney asked.

  Sam shrugged. “I picked it up at the pound,” he said in an offhand tone, as though getting a dog was like stopping for coffee. “Straggly looking thing, if you ask me,” he added, peering into the crate.

  Sam thought he might use the dog again for his next smuggling job…that is, if she survived. He scratched an itchy prickle on his neck.

  “How did you get the coins inside her?” Rodney asked.

  “I made her eat them,” Sam said in a casual voice.

  Rodney looked sick. “But… how do we get them back out?”

  “Well, if she’s lucky,” Sam pointed in the direction of the dog’s behind, “they’ll come out in her poop.”

  Rodney gulped, afraid to ask his next question. “And what if they don’t?”

  “Then,” Sam shrugged again, “we’ll have to go in after them.”

  Rodney’s face was pale as he finished loading the dog crate in the van. His neck prickled as they drove away.

  *****

  Sam and Rodney arrived at a motel. They planned to wait here for further instructions from Stan; the thief who had stolen the coins from the museum. Stan hired Sam and Rodney to smuggle the coins to the Specter County area, where they were to meet with Rich Nickelson, a wealthy coin collector. The collector had promised to pay a fortune for the rare coins.

  Sam handed Rodney a leash and a plastic bag.

  “Why don’t you take the mutt outside, and see if she’ll make anything. If she does, be sure to pick it up, that poop might be priceless,” Sam said to Rodney, who still looked a bit pasty.

  Rodney opened the door to the pet crate. The little brown dog had a frightened look in her big dark eyes, and she huddled at the back of the crate, shivering.

  Rodney reached inside the crate, and clipped the leash to her collar. He pulled on the leash, and the little brown dog cautiously stepped out of the carrier. She kept her head down, as if she was expecting Rodney to hit her.

  He took the little brown dog to a grassy area near the motel parking lot, and let her walk around.

  C’mon, dog… poop, he thought. The prickling on the back of Rodney’s neck was becoming unbearable. As the dog sniffed a No Parking sign, he put his hand on the back of his neck, rubbing the annoying spot. He then watched in disbelief, as the leash unclasped itself from the dog’s collar as if by magic. The dog, sensing her sudden freedom, began to run.

  Rodney stared stupidly at the empty leash dangling from his hand for a moment before running after the escaping dog.

  Chapter 6

  Sal, Phyllis and Ryan arrived back at Sal’s house. After watching Sal fix his bag so easily, Ryan had become quite curious about the man who was about to marry his mother.

  “So, tell me about yourself, Sal …after all, you’re going to become my stepfather soon,” Ryan asked Sal when they had sat down.

  “Well, there’s not much to tell,” Sal said in a humble tone.

  Knowing how shy her future husband was, Phyllis took it upon herself to proudly share some details about her fiancé with Ryan... much to Sal’s embarrassment.

  Ryan soon realized that there was more to this quiet old man than met the eye.

  Phyllis revealed that Sal was a retired Army war veteran, who’d lost the use of his leg while saving the lives of his fellow soldiers. She explained how he found extraordinary uses for ordinary things: how he had once used his cane to catch a p
urse snatcher, and how he had used a ruler from her purse to escape imprisonment in a jewelry store.

  As Ryan listened, it occurred to him that Sal and his mother were perfectly matched; Sal found clever uses for everyday items, and his mother collected everyday items she hoped could be useful. It was obvious that his mother loved Sal very much, and Sal’s devotion to her was plain to see.

  There was a knock at the door; Sal opened it to find Henry with the daily newspaper. A tattered satchel hung from the boy’s shoulder and his toe poked through a hole in his sneaker.

  Henry smiled and handed Sal a rolled-up copy of ‘The Specter County Spectator’. Barking excitedly, Teeny ran to greet Henry, who crouched down and petted the tiny white dog.

  “Henry, this is my son, Ryan,” Phyllis introduced them.

  “Hi.” Henry said. He stopped petting Teeny for a moment to wave at Ryan. “You’re the vet, right?”

  “Yup, that’s me,” Ryan answered.

  “That’s so cool! I love animals… especially dogs,” Henry replied. Teeny put his front paws on Henry’s knee and peered up at him with his big dark eyes. “I wish I could have one of my own,” he added wistfully, looking down at Teeny’s furry face.

  “I think the paint is dry, Henry. Do you want to go see?” Sal asked.

  “Sure!” Henry replied excitedly. He followed Sal to the garage.

  Sal and Henry were fixing up an old skateboard they had found while moving stuff from Phyllis’s tiny, cluttered apartment to Sal’s garage. Phyllis, who always knew the skateboard would come in handy one day, was glad to see it finally put to good use.

  The body of the original skateboard was ruined, so Sal and Henry had salvaged the wheel assembly and had created a new body out of scrap wood.

  Sal and Henry entered the garage, where the newly painted skateboard sat on the workbench.

  Henry ran to the workbench and ran his hand over the skateboard’s smooth, shiny surface. He’d spent hours sanding it.

  “This is awesome!” he said excitedly. The board was fish-shaped, inspired by Henry and Sal’s new favorite hobby; fishing.

  “Do you want to leave it just like that, or are you going to paint a design on it?” asked Sal.

  Henry looked at the board critically. “I think I’ll paint some scales and an eye on it… you know, to make it really look like a fish,” he answered.

  “That sounds great,” the old man replied as they walked back into the house.

  “How’s the skateboard coming?” Phyllis asked.

  “It’s almost done. I can’t wait to ride it!” Henry replied. He scratched Teeny behind his ears.

  “Do you want me to walk Teeny while I deliver the rest of my papers?” Henry offered. Teeny pranced with excitement. “I was going to help Lana out at the shelter afterward, so can I bring him there, too.”

  Teeny did a little back flip, and the boy and the dog looked eagerly at Phyllis; the same hopeful look reflected on both faces.

  Phyllis laughed. “How could I possibly say no?” she said, throwing her hands up in a helpless gesture.

  Teeny barked and ran to the little old lady. He jumped in her lap, and licked her face before running back to the boy.

  “Henry, I’m going to the shelter too. Maybe I’ll see you there,” Ryan said.

  “Cool! See you later then,” Henry said.

  Henry put Teeny on his leash, and led the happy little dog down the sidewalk.

  Ryan stood up. “I guess I should head over to the shelter myself,” he said, kissing his mother.

  “Do you want a ride?” Sal offered.

  “No thanks, Sal. It’s nice out, I’ll walk.” Ryan had another destination besides the shelter… there was something he needed to see.

  Chapter 7

  Rodney struggled to catch his breath as he walked back to the motel. He wasn’t looking forward to telling Sam how the little brown dog had gotten away.

  He frowned, remembering how whenever he got close to catching her, something mysterious would happen that allowed the little dog to escape again.

  When Rodney caught up to her the first time, the wind had blown a newspaper across his face, giving the little dog a chance to jump free. Rodney saw the newspaper’s headline before it blew away. “Priceless Coins Missing after Museum Explosion” it read.

  Later, he cornered the dog in an alley. But when Rodney moved in to grab her, he heard a faint whistling sound. A flock of birds suddenly burst into flight, right above his head. The sudden commotion distracted Rodney just long enough for the little dog to dart between his legs. Bird droppings rained down on Rodney’s head as the little dog got away again.

  Rodney finally gave up the chase after tripping on his own shoelaces while lunging for the dog in a parking garage. As he fell, he grabbed onto the nearest car, setting off the alarm. The car’s horn began honking, the lights flashed, and the siren blared… bringing the car’s angry owner running. Rodney had to convince the car’s owner that he was not trying to steal it, and by that time, the little dog was long gone.

  Rodney wiped the bird poop from his red hair and shook his head in disbelief. He knew his shoelaces had been tied securely. How had they become untied? And the annoying prickling on the back of his neck continued the whole time he was chasing the little brown dog.

  Well, at least that’s stopped now, Rodney thought, putting his hand on his neck.

  Rodney took a deep breath and entered their motel room. As expected, Sam was not happy to hear that the dog had escaped, with the stolen coins inside her.

  “You expect me to believe that the leash unhooked itself?” Sam yelled angrily.

  He stomped around the motel room, calling Rodney names and kicking the empty dog crate. He finally sat on the bed and thought for a moment. He opened the drawer to the bedside table and took out the Specter County phone book.

  “What are you looking for?” Rodney asked.

  “I’m looking for local dog pounds and animal shelters, you idiot. We’re going to find that dog,” Sam answered.

  Chapter 8

  Ryan walked between the monuments at Specter County Cemetery; heading for the heart-shaped tombstone that marked Betty and Ernest’s grave.

  He was surprised to see Henry at the gravesite; the young boy was placing small white pebbles in a decorative pattern in front of the stone. Teeny barked, and Henry looked up. He seemed equally surprised to see Ryan.

  “Am I disturbing you?” Ryan asked.

  “Um, no,” Henry replied, a bit flustered. “I just like to come here sometimes, that’s all. And the cemetery is along my paper route.”

  Ryan nodded; his mother had told him how close Henry and Ernest had been. Ryan approached the stone to stand beside Henry. “I wasn’t able to come to their funerals…so I guess I came to say goodbye.”

  “They were nice people,” Henry said.

  They were silent a moment, before Ryan quietly said, “I was just little… when my father died; Ernest was the closest thing to a dad that my brother and I had when we were growing up.”

  “Oh.” Henry said. “Ernest must have been younger then. He kinda felt like a grandfather to me.”

  “Yes,” Ryan agreed, “And Betty was much younger then, too; and her mind was sharp as a tack.” He smiled. “It’s a shame you couldn’t have known her before she, um…er…”

  “Started losing her marbles?” Henry added helpfully.

  “Yeah,” Ryan chuckled. “Betty was a truly wonderful woman. Even though she and Ernest had seven children of their own, she also took care of Mike and I while my mom worked. Betty had a full-time job just keeping us all fed.”

  “Wow,” Henry said. He tried to imagine Ernest and Betty as a young couple. He glanced at Ryan, and wondered if he wanted some time alone at the gravesite.

  “I need to finish delivering my papers now,” he said. Henry picked up his satchel and put Teeny inside. “I’ll see you later at the shelter, Ok?”

  “Ok. See you, Henry,” Ryan c
alled after him.

  Ryan gazed at the heart-shaped gravestone. He thought about Ernest and Betty, and the many lives they had touched during their time on Earth. A couple of sparrows flitted down from the trees, and began frolicking around the base of the gravestone; disrupting the pebbles Henry had arranged.

  When the birds flew away, Ryan was amazed when he saw that the newly repositioned pebbles now formed letters that spelled a single word: ‘Bye’

  Chapter 9

  A homeless man pushed a rusty shopping cart up the street, its wheels squeaking loudly. The cart was heaped full of bottles and cans, redeemable for a nickel apiece. Peter had spent the day collecting them, and looked forward to the hot meal he planned to buy when he cashed them in.

  His stomach was rumbling when he noticed a soda bottle in the tall grass on the side of the road. Despite the full load in the cart, Peter headed toward it.

  There’s always room for one more, Peter thought.

  As he picked up the bottle, he noticed a dog lying half-hidden in the grass nearby. The dog was panting heavily, her sides heaving and her tongue lolling from her mouth.

  “Hello, doggie,” Peter said. The dog looked at him and continued panting.

  “Are you thirsty? You look thirsty… c’mon, doggie, I’ll get you something to drink.” Peter rooted through the shopping cart until he located a water bottle that was not yet empty, and then found a shallow depression on the sidewalk where he could create a puddle. As he poured the water, the dog watched curiously and licked her lips, but did not approach.

  “Shy, huh? That’s okay, I’ll go over here,” Peter said, walking a short distance away.

  The dog emerged cautiously from the tall grass and drank thirstily from the puddle. She had long, floppy ears and brown curly fur. When the puddle was empty, she looked at Peter again.

  “That’s good, huh? You want more?” Peter offered. He shook the bottle with his filthy hand.

  “Now don’t run, doggie… I’m just coming to give you more.” Peter slowly approached the dog and refilled the puddle. He saw that her coat was mud-spattered and full of cockle-burrs.

  “You’re a right mess, doggie… and that’s sayin’ something, coming from me.” Peter laughed ruefully, looking down at his grimy, tattered clothing. “It looks like we’ve both fallen on hard times,” he said to the dog, and sat down on the curb to watch her drink.