[Can birds be taught to play catch? That is truly the question. Though the old man's mind is far, far away from Sam. He's remembering how rough dirty fur felt when he tried to push off a long dripping tongue.]
Thanks. [If he were a more downtrodden slob, Larry'd think that every good thing will leave in the end. Thinking like that means that no one ever keeps a good thing. How can he explain Freddy and the diamonds though? There are always bumps in the road, he guesses.]
[Ain't that the truth? Freddy doesn't have similar thoughts either, he's got some faith in somehow keeping this together whether or not it's better for him in the long run. Lawrence Dimick makes a stupid kid who went by Orange of all names feel so much better.]
Naw, I tried to adopt a squirrel once. You know like to see if it would come back to the same spot on the same tree every day? [He waves his cigarette hand.] Didn't work.
[Another pull of his smoke, then Freddy's sitting up straighter to turn towards Larry.] This one call I was on, back when I was a boot, we lit up a car that belonged to the girlfriend of a wanted toerag. She kinda looked relieved to see us. The toerag was in the car of course. So we made it look like a routine traffic stop, "Did you know your right brake light is out?" "No I did not sir now get the fuck out of my fuckin' face, pig." He didn't say it like that but you know that's what he was thinkin'.
[Tapping ash out the window.] While my FTO was handling the fucker I was on the girl's side. I hear this crying coming from the car, kinda like somethin' was tucked up in the seat or whatever. It sounded like a fuckin' baby and I knew it was comin' from the dash so I asked to see the glove box. She looked like she was gonna do it but the cocksucker just gave her this killer stare. So, I reach in to pop the box open myself and this thing rolls out. The perp books it right away and the girl starts screamin'. My FTO took the guy down real quick, made it look so damn easy. Anyway turns out the guy stuffed the pet ferret in the box. Little fella was okay though. I thought about taking him in as evidence you know, then skim a little bit off the top for myself but those things have rabies or something I don't know. I let Animal Control take it.
[Freddy shrugs. Just another failed pet story. It'd be so much easier to keep a beast, like Ace or Krypto.]
[If it feels so good who is to say that it isn't? That's not the logic of a dummy but a person who wants so badly to be happy in life. This same person is leaning in hearing these gems.]
Woah. Woah. A fucking ferret? Jesus Christ. I thought those were illegal? [Then again in the arms of criminals, go figure right on over there Dimick. He waves off his own question through the laughter.] Fuck man, rodents are inherently vicious. Thank god you weren't rabid or nothing after that. One bite and that's it.
[To emphasize bite he squeezes on the kid's earlobe. Fooling around.]
Like Cujo.
[Failed story or not the old man loves em. Hell, even the ones with other cops.]
A fuckin' ferret. [Freddy confirms with another grin--hey hey now. He bats that paw off his ear with ease. Nothing violent of course.] Don't ask me I just cuff'em.
[That's a joke Lawrence Dimick, don't read too much into it. Freddy's not gonna cut the cop part out of his life anymore than Larry can cut the criminal part out of his life. Funny how in this city they both have something to hide and don't much share it with anyone else but each other. In Newendyke's case, he's still Orange to everyone but Larry. Only one person knows he's a cop--uh, three actually--and only one person really knows who is Freddy Newendyke.]
I'm no Cujo. [As in a drooling St. Bernard mess...however the kid's not the proper stature to be a Cujo either.]
Sure, sure, Sheriff. [They're laying off the nose. How about that? Mussing up his hair however.]
Back up a little. How are you so certain you're not? I mean, rabid naw. Or else you'd be making a meal out of me. I'm looking besides that. Though I seen you pant all wide mouth, howling too.
[That'd make the two of them. Paws are still on you Freddy, Larry moves in the back seat. Still a comfy place to stay, this beautiful car. And it's not no hot blazing summer in Castle Rock.]
[Floppy hair gets mussed floppily, there's just no way to stop that from happening. Freddy takes the last pull on his cigarette before putting it out.]
I can make a meal outta you.
[The kid says with all the coolness of a wifebeater leather jacket wearing new guy on the up and up, under a pair of paws. He's looking at Larry now as if daring him to argue otherwise. What's the plan for tomorrow again? Another spin before getting the car detailed? Maybe he'll corner the old man in the john with all the weight of four LA County sheriffs and a german shepherd.]
[There we go. Mr. White can see some teeth in this fox hound. Brown eyes look over his face feeling combative and thrilled all at fucking once. He leans in for a rough kiss to taste the fullness of his cigarette on his tongue before pulling away.]
Wanna head on home now, tough guy? We can take it in to get her all cleaned up tomorrow.
[Whoops there goes that word, swallowed whole by another mouth laced with Chesterfield. Freddy meets the kiss head one, so close it almost threatens to give him another hard one. Whew, breathe tough guy. He's gonna take that as some sort of acceptance for his thinly veiled challenge.]
Okay. [Freddy relents, giving another nod before scurrying into the front seat. And not without a medium-firm step on Larry's knee to get there.]
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Thanks. [If he were a more downtrodden slob, Larry'd think that every good thing will leave in the end. Thinking like that means that no one ever keeps a good thing. How can he explain Freddy and the diamonds though? There are always bumps in the road, he guesses.]
...you ever try to keep a pet anyway?
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Naw, I tried to adopt a squirrel once. You know like to see if it would come back to the same spot on the same tree every day? [He waves his cigarette hand.] Didn't work.
[Another pull of his smoke, then Freddy's sitting up straighter to turn towards Larry.] This one call I was on, back when I was a boot, we lit up a car that belonged to the girlfriend of a wanted toerag. She kinda looked relieved to see us. The toerag was in the car of course. So we made it look like a routine traffic stop, "Did you know your right brake light is out?" "No I did not sir now get the fuck out of my fuckin' face, pig." He didn't say it like that but you know that's what he was thinkin'.
[Tapping ash out the window.] While my FTO was handling the fucker I was on the girl's side. I hear this crying coming from the car, kinda like somethin' was tucked up in the seat or whatever. It sounded like a fuckin' baby and I knew it was comin' from the dash so I asked to see the glove box. She looked like she was gonna do it but the cocksucker just gave her this killer stare. So, I reach in to pop the box open myself and this thing rolls out. The perp books it right away and the girl starts screamin'. My FTO took the guy down real quick, made it look so damn easy. Anyway turns out the guy stuffed the pet ferret in the box. Little fella was okay though. I thought about taking him in as evidence you know, then skim a little bit off the top for myself but those things have rabies or something I don't know. I let Animal Control take it.
[Freddy shrugs. Just another failed pet story. It'd be so much easier to keep a beast, like Ace or Krypto.]
no subject
Woah. Woah. A fucking ferret? Jesus Christ. I thought those were illegal? [Then again in the arms of criminals, go figure right on over there Dimick. He waves off his own question through the laughter.] Fuck man, rodents are inherently vicious. Thank god you weren't rabid or nothing after that. One bite and that's it.
[To emphasize bite he squeezes on the kid's earlobe. Fooling around.]
Like Cujo.
[Failed story or not the old man loves em. Hell, even the ones with other cops.]
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[That's a joke Lawrence Dimick, don't read too much into it. Freddy's not gonna cut the cop part out of his life anymore than Larry can cut the criminal part out of his life. Funny how in this city they both have something to hide and don't much share it with anyone else but each other. In Newendyke's case, he's still Orange to everyone but Larry. Only one person knows he's a cop--uh, three actually--and only one person really knows who is Freddy Newendyke.]
I'm no Cujo. [As in a drooling St. Bernard mess...however the kid's not the proper stature to be a Cujo either.]
no subject
Sure, sure, Sheriff. [They're laying off the nose. How about that? Mussing up his hair however.]
Back up a little. How are you so certain you're not? I mean, rabid naw. Or else you'd be making a meal out of me. I'm looking besides that. Though I seen you pant all wide mouth, howling too.
[That'd make the two of them. Paws are still on you Freddy, Larry moves in the back seat. Still a comfy place to stay, this beautiful car. And it's not no hot blazing summer in Castle Rock.]
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I can make a meal outta you.
[The kid says with all the coolness of a wifebeater leather jacket wearing new guy on the up and up, under a pair of paws. He's looking at Larry now as if daring him to argue otherwise. What's the plan for tomorrow again? Another spin before getting the car detailed? Maybe he'll corner the old man in the john with all the weight of four LA County sheriffs and a german shepherd.]
no subject
[There we go. Mr. White can see some teeth in this fox hound. Brown eyes look over his face feeling combative and thrilled all at fucking once. He leans in for a rough kiss to taste the fullness of his cigarette on his tongue before pulling away.]
Wanna head on home now, tough guy? We can take it in to get her all cleaned up tomorrow.
no subject
[Whoops there goes that word, swallowed whole by another mouth laced with Chesterfield. Freddy meets the kiss head one, so close it almost threatens to give him another hard one. Whew, breathe tough guy. He's gonna take that as some sort of acceptance for his thinly veiled challenge.]
Okay. [Freddy relents, giving another nod before scurrying into the front seat. And not without a medium-firm step on Larry's knee to get there.]