and the rain came down.

I sat around all day watching Sara sit around. A few people came by to have their books signed. A few even chatted with Sara for a few minutes. Sara's expression would change often. She was fully engaged in the task at hand. She didn't seem to think herself above her readers, I liked that about her. Even though we spoke very little, I took a liking to her.

Her manager was a different thing all together. The woman seemed to have an angle on everything. Even lunch was a photo op for her. The delivery boy wore a pizza restaurant uniform, you know one of those red striped shirts. He handed Sara a pizza and she handed him a book. Of course there was a photographer right there to capture the memory. It was all so cornball, I spent a lot of time biting off laughter.

The whole day was a total bore. As a matter of fact all ten days were. There were no crowds to hold back, except at a couple of talk shows. At those times the show's security people handled everything. Just like most real jobs, in the real world, it was a boring way to make a living.

The one interesting thing that happened took place on the last day. If it had not been the last day, I would never have done what I did. I take my responsibilities seriously, but it was late afternoon on the last the last day, so it just happened.

It was cold and rainy in New York. I stood just inside the doorway of the bookstore looking out into the dark miserable day. I saw the Hispanic kid and his dog as they passed. Since the book store was beside an upscale department store, I was a bit surprised when the kid tied the dog to a signpost. He almost made it to the door of the department store before I made a move.

"Hey, you aren't going to leave that dog out in the rain are you?"

"Why?" the kids asked.

"Because it cold as hell and the dog shouldn't be out in the rain. Take him in, or take him home, but get him out of the rain."

The kid wasn't as young as I thought. He walked toward me before he answered. "You mind your own fucking business."

"I'm making this my business. You either take care of that dog, or I'm going to take care of him for you."

"You touch my dog and I'll kill you," he said with pure malice in his voice. "You don't know who I am do you?"

"Nope, and I don't give a crap. You heard what I said, get that creature out of the rain and do it now." I tried to sound just as menacing as he had. I seriously doubted that I made it.

"The kid took two steps back and came out with a flip blade knife. Back off man or I'm gonna cut your balls off." People who stop in the middle of a potential fight to give a warning are complete idiots. Once he pulled that knife, he should have moved toward me not away.

He gave me the time and space to raise the cane forcefully. I could have tried to break his arm with the first strike, but frankly his testicles were an easier target. I heard the pop as the weighted cane struck his tight jeans. Then he got very pale and went to his knees.

He was no threat on his knees trying to decide whether to scream, cry, or barf but I broke his arm anyway. No sense wasting a chance to make damn sure there was no more fight left in him. Of course, being able to punish him a little was a nice little bonus. I looked around and noticed for the first time that a small crowd had gathered.

"Somebody should have told him not to screw around with the handicapped." The people began to laugh. I'm taking his dog into that bookstore. If anybody feels the need to call a cop, I'll be in there drying this guy off."

"What about him," a women holding red umbrella asked. "Shouldn't you call him an ambulance or something."

"Hey," I said touching him with my foot. He looked up pretty miserable. I know I should have felt sorry for him, but I didn't. After all he did pull a knife on me. I spoke in a whisper. "The lady thought I should call you an ambulance. So you're a fucking ambulance." I know it was evil, but I had always wanted to do that. Sometimes you have to stop, even in the rain, to smell the roses. Not to mention kick an ass hole when he is down.


The dog was a pit bull. Even with his scars he came along peacefully. He was happy to be out of the rain. Sara had seen at least part of the commotion from the door of the book store. When I stepped inside, she took the leash from my hand without asking. She and the dog disappeared into the ladies room. She had absolutely no fear of the dog, even though his face was covered with scars.

I stood shivering in the bookstore while dripping water all over the hardwood floor. I would have expected the manager to complain, but instead he brought me a roll of paper towels. The teenager from the coffee counter brought me a bar towel. I never did get warm but at least I got my skin as dray as possible.

"What are you going to do with him? You can't take him on the plane." Sara asked upon her return.

"I guess I'll rent a car and drive home." I kept Sara and the dog between me and the door, so I was the first to see them enter. Two guys with tattoos and biker jackets would tend to make any upscale bookstore customer nervous. Even I was thinking seriously of the knife in my sock.

"Is that your dog?" It was the biggest of them who asked.

"He is now," I replied.

"Well, if you are from around here, you should be careful. Guys like his last owner don't like to lose face."

"Then you're telling me I should have just killed him."

"It might have been easier. Now if you want, we can take care of the dog and find him a good home." He said it as he slipped his hand into his pocket.

Instead of coming out with a gun or knife, it was a business card. According to the card, he and his friend were part of a hard core biker animal rescue group. I laughed at the image his card created in my frost bitten brain. Yeah it was a nervous laugh, but still a laugh. "If you can find him a good home, he's yours."

The smaller, greasier one took the leash from Sara. She smiled timidly at him.

"I can tell by the drawl you're from down south. If you are going to stay around a while, I'd like to buy you a drink." It was the big one speaking again.

"I wish I could, but I have to escort the ladies to the airport, then get on a plane myself."

"Too bad," he said.

I never did see a cop. I found it encouraging that a crowd of fifty people saw it all, and no one felt as though a cop was needed. If it had not been a helpless dog, I wonder if they would have acted differently. People tend to take animal abuse pretty damn serious. Well unless the abuser plays football.