Frank
In the tiny town of Hampton, pop 440, I take a short detour to a corner gas station that may have bananas. I turn onto a very short residential street with a house on one side and a small park on the other. A little boy is in the park with his mom and an old chihuahua. There are two good size pit bulls and a small dachshund all running and barking along the chain link fence in the house's front yard. I scan for the gate and see it's closed. Good, the dogs have their side, and I'm certainly staying on mine. I walk past, the next street is a dead end, and I have to turn around and head back down the street. One of the pitbulls seems to take it as a personal affront that I'm coming by a second time, and is much more agitated. I check the gate, it's still closed, and so I continue by. The front door is wide open but I can't see inside. Even though I can't see anyone, it's comforting knowing someone is probably home. The dogs have been barking aggressively for so long now that I expect the owner to appear and yell at the dogs or me or both. Nobody appears. From the other direction the chihuahua gets my attention as he starts walking over. But he's moving stiffly like an old dog, and doesn't look like he's interested in starting anything.
Still looking at chihuahua, I notice the sound from the chain link fence changes to a higher, more jangly sound, and that the barking is different also somehow, louder, more direct. I turn to look, only to find one of the pitbulls has squeezed under(!) the chain link fence and is charging straight for me. Oh shit, I think.
Luckily, I happen to be carrying a lightweight sun umbrella in one hand, as I'd been using it in the heat in the miles before town. I have just enough time to open it in front of the dog before it reaches me. My legs have suddenly disappeared behind a shiny silver curtain, and the dog skids to a stop inches away. I yell "Go Home", hoping I get to decide what happens next instead of the dog. He doesn't decide to suddenly obey, and circles me instead, still barking furiously. The young mom from the park is now running toward us, toward the house, yelling "Frank!, Frank!" I'm expecting a really unhappy Frank to finally show up at the empty front door and put an end to all the noise, but still, nobody. The dog retreats from the approaching woman, and I step past her to gain more space from the dog. Now I notice there's a yound dad with the little boy, and they've come out of the park toward me also. The boy is working on an ice cream, and the dad is now holding the chihuahua. His wife is still yelling "Frank", but the dog has disappeared around the side of the house, unfortunately the direction I also need to go. I'm a little confused that the dad has picked up the chihuahua rather than the little boy, but another thought comes and I ask "The dog's name is Frank?" Yes, he says, the dog's name is Frank. I look back, and the pitbull is in the yard again, behind the fence, no longer barking. Everything is suddenly quiet and calm.
I never did get a banana - they were sold out - but I did get to meet Frank, the big gray pit bull.
