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The Black Knight Squash Fiction League Match #2


The Handouts versus The Tin Ringers

EAST SIDE
A Collaborative Novel
 

Chapter 5

Walkies With Pike
by Tammy Mehmed

It had been six months since Pike ran out of the Midtown Squash Club fearing the worst.  The girls’ ruse had worked and Pike had gotten a jolt of reality.  He’d fled home to his East Village apartment hoping to have a drink with his roommate and plot a new course.  Pike realized it was time to get out of the club circuit and lay low.  His weakness for the ladies, most of whom were more than willing to fall for his compliments and rugged Kiwi accent, had really caught up with him.  With so many of those older, wealthier members looking to be rescued by him, he felt he was doing them a favor.

His roommate, Joe, had been a dog walker for years.  As a certified dog trainer he made a good and honest living helping city-slicker dogs and their uptight Manhattan people.   Pike invited Joe out for drinks and told him he needed to make a serious change.  In Pike’s version of the story, the girl was obsessed and stalking him.  “So Joe, what do you think?  Could I walk dogs for you?  You know, take on some of your overflow?  I know you’ve been turning down business and I’m good with dogs.”

Joe, somewhat surprised, said “Well, do you have any clients to bring to the table?”

“Well, hmmm, I do have some wealthy squash clients who have dogs that could probably use a walk.  I could certainly approach them.”

“Perfect start,” Joe said.  “I’ll teach you what you need to know, pass you a few clients for 20% and you’ll be off and walking in no time.  We’ll get you started with the smaller, easier dogs.”

“Done deal,” said Pike, “I can start tomorrow.”

The next day Pike began working his way through his long list of discrete and married squash clients who he knew had dogs and were not likely to gossip.  He told them about his new business and pitched the dog walking in just the way Joe had instructed him.  Most were stay-at-home wives of elite lawyers and financiers, who didn’t necessarily need a dog walker.  With his charming wiles, Pike convinced four of them that “Fluffy” needs a daily walk in the fresh air and socializing with new canine friends.  This could work, he thought …. this could bloody well work.

……………

Kate couldn’t bear living with her mother out on Long Island any longer.  Mother notwithstanding, the commute to Manhattan was killing her.   Graduating from Parsons School of Design the previous year, she’d been able to land a job in fashion design pretty quickly.  The school had great internship programs that practically guaranteed you a job if you didn’t blow it.  All those years hanging out at sports clubs with her dad had left her wanting to design better, more functional and fashionable women’s sportswear.  It had been convenient and affordable to live at home with mom during school, but now that she was working full time, it was time to move into The City, so Kate left Long Island in late fall and moved to the Village. 

Of the many friendships Kate had made at Parsons, her best friend was a sweet girl named Marie from Westchester County.  Marie came from an upper-middle-class Italian family and like Kate, was an only child.  Marie’s parents had set her up with a reasonably nice apartment in the Village; close to school, but she would need to find a roommate to help with expenses.  Marie had gone through two other roommates before Kate.  The first one was just plain flakey and the second ditched Marie and moved in with her boyfriend.  At school Marie focused on curatorial studies wanting to work in museums.
 
Kate was glad Marie asked her to rent a room from her in the charming little Village apartment.  Living with Marie gave her a built-in family.  It was something Kate had always longed for -- a traditional, big family that gathered for holidays and birthdays, called each other up, went shopping together, traveled together and genuinely cared for one another.  She had always felt ripped off by her mother’s crude and selfish ways.  And, truth be told, she had really fallen for Marie’s little buff Cocker Spaniel, Sassy.   Now that Marie was working full time at the Museum of Natural History, thanks to that internship program, she had hired a dog walker for Sassy.  Marie’s long-time city-dwelling Aunt Carla had referred her to Joe Rizzo (a good old Italian boy and family friend from Westchester County).  Sassy, an easy-going older girl, had been walking with Joe for about a year when she was turned over to his new associate, Pike.

………………….

Pike knocked before unlocking the door to Marie’s apartment – standard protocol in case someone was home unexpectedly.  He began to turn the key when the door was grabbed out of his hand by a very attractive 20-something.  Kate was going into work late that day because she had an evening photo shoot to attend. 

“Eeek,” shrieked Kate, caught off guard.

“Ohhh, hi there, I’m Sassy’s dog walker, Thomas,” he said.  “Sorry to startle you, Luv.  I didn’t think anybody was in.”

“Ah, no problem,” said Kate, catching her breath.  I’m usually not home at this time, so I was a little surprised.  Nice to meet you,” she said.

“Well then, I’ll just get Sassy here and we’ll be on our way.  Hey I’ve got to ask, I noticed you have some choice squash rackets over there in the hallway.  Who plays?”

Kate smiled coyly, “That would be me – but not as much as I used to.”

“Well, maybe we can play sometime.  Marie has my number, just give me a call if you feel like hitting the ball again.”  Bloody hell, thought Pike.  I just had to shoot my mouth off.  It’s too soon to get back into a squash club.  But Kate was pretty adorable and her squash memorabilia and equipment was intriguing. 

“Okay – I better be going,” Pike said.  “Come on Sassy girl – let’s get out for your walkies.”  He flashed Kate his best smile and closed the door behind him.

……………….

The night sky was dark and moonless. The evening air was biting, so the warmth of McKeon’s was more comforting than ever.  Hank arrived about 6:45, looked around and didn’t see Yvette. 

Hank bellied up to the bar.  He needed a scotch to warm his soul from that bone-chilling walk from the club and to prep himself for the favors he was about to ask Yvette.




Tammy Mehmed is practically a native San Franciscan, having relocated from Michigan in 1981.  By day she is a legal secretary at a large international law firm; by night and weekend she trains people and their dogs and competes in canine agility and rally obedience.  She first learned that squash existed in the late 70s from her high school boyfriend and may have even watched a few games.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.






 








 



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