Denver Criest to Sleep

Dear Jack,

For your perusing:

Denver climbed into bed with Sam. He couldn’t help it. Sam looked so good laying there with his closed eyes facing the alarm clock, that Denver had to snuggle up in front of him in that spot where the legs curve up to support him. Of course He couldn’t get under the covers, that would be too hard, and Sam might wake up, and then he might get yelled at, but since Denver carefully slid into that space, Sam didn’t notice, and as the night drifted on, he even put his arm around Denver showing him his affection.

Denver found Sam at a bus station in Mobile about a year ago. He stood there with a green grungy duffle bag, with his Nike tennis shoes smelling of the baseball field. Denver always loved baseball players, he knew that they loved to play catch, and that was Denver’s favorite game. The thing that will remain in Denver’s mind is the smell of Sam’s jockey tee shirt. It smelled of a musty twenty year old who had just ate a good mustard covered sausage. Sam smiled at Denver and called him over. Denver remembers the moment vividly. “I finally have found my soul mate!” he had thought. Of course Sam took Denver home with him--who wouldn’t have, he looked so pitiful, covered in mud with briers stuck in his leg hairs. Ever since then Sam and Denver have been the closest friends.

Sam had only one rule, that Denver not sleep in the bed with him. Now Denver never knew why this was, but from the look on Sam’s face, Denver felt like he would be sent away if he ever did. Yet there was something inside him that longed to be with Sam in the bed. That’s why he would wait until Sam was fast asleep, usually around 3 AM, and Denver would walk carefully on his pads down the hardwood hall; halt at the doorway; and slowly push the door open with his nose. He could smell when Sam was asleep. Very carefully he would slide through the crack in the door, and enter. When he got to the bed he would carefully crawl onto it where Sam’s feet rested. Through experience he had learned never to put his toes to Sam’s feet... not because of the smell, but rather because the moistness of his nose would wake Sam. Once on the bed Denver would take his place next to Sam.

This night was different, as he lay next to Sam, Sam did not put his arm around him. Denver laid quietly with his eyes slowly shifting to Sam to see if he was about to move to embrace him, but nothing happened. It was then the smell began. “What is that smell? I know I’ve smelt it before, but where from?” He got up from his spot, and nudged Sam. Sam didn’t move. Sam smelled funny. Something told him that Sam was not ok. He barked. “Sam!! Sam!! Sam!!” But he didn’t move. He bit Sam on the hand, and licked his face. No reaction. “Sam!!!!! Sam!!!!!!!!! SSSAAAMM!!!!!!!!!!” Now the neighbors in the apartment next store heard him. They beat on the walls and said “Shut that damn dog up!!!” Still Denver barked.

Finally someone was beating on the door to the apartment. “Should I get the door? Should I stay? Sam!!!” He goes to the door, and clinches the handle with his teeth. It opens to Ms. Flynn the landlady.

“Shut up you filthy mutt!! Samuel Crawly!!! Where are you? Shut your damn dog up!!!” She pushes her way past Denver. Denver heads straight to Sam in his bed barking the entire time. She gets to the room. “Jesus, Joseph, and Mary!!” She races to the phone, Denver still barking. “Yes this is Ms. Flynn on Avon Street. Sam is... not ... I think he’s dead... will someone ... SHUT UP DENVER!!!” She hurls the alarm clock at Denver. She starts to cry as she sees Sam lying there. She’s still talking on the phone. Denver sees this and jumps on the bed. He pulls the cover over Sam’s head so that Ms. Flynn will be ok. He realizes what the smell is. The smell of death, and begins to whimper. He lays down in his spot and begins to cry--Denver cries to sleep.