The dark shadow and I both turn toward the deeper shadows in the back of the alley. A pair of golden eyes that appear to glow from within come into view first, followed by the rest of the creature.
A massive black dog steps into the light, growling all the while, with muscles rippling and bunching as it slowly stalks toward whoever is hidden in the shadows. Every hair on my body stands at attention at the otherworldly nature of the menacing sound.
The night has gone eerily silent, highlighting the low throaty growl even more. The enormous beast is positively vicious with its hackles raised, yet I am strangely unafraid. Somehow, I know I am not in any danger from this hell hound, but I can’t say the same for the other person.
As I feel my rapid pulse slow and the edges of my vision start to flicker, I think,oh, no, no, no!I cannot have a waking dream right now. I begin to spin my ring, but I can’t perform any of my usual mantras to ground myself; I am not in a safe situation while the shadowy figure remains.
A pack of wolves briefly shimmers in and out of focus around the dog in the here and now, and I force myself to take in a breath, hold it for three beats, and then breathe it out.
The forced box breathing burns my lungs as I fight my rising panic over having a waking dream in this moment. I keep pushing myself to slow my breathing and count—one, two, three. One, two, three.
Present day coalesces back to a solid image, and I give myself a slight shake. That was a heart-stopper. Moments like this can trigger me, which is super inconvenient. I must be getting better at controlling them if the image just overlaid the present day and didn’t take over. Or the dreams are evolving…
I peer closer at the massive beast and all I can think of is that it must be some type of rare breed. My brain stupidly looks for details like dog breeds to focus on instead of worrying about my safety and the resurgence of my evolving waking dreams.
The enormous black animal lunges forward with a ferocious bark, drawing my full attention back to the situation at hand. The shadow person turns and flees into the darkness, hotly pursued by the animal chasing him.
“Yeah, take that fucker!” I yell, pumping my fist in the air like I had anything to do with scaring them away, as opposed to the obviously feral stray dog. How on earth could an animal that big be wandering around on its own?
Muttering under my breath about slacker guardian angels, I bolt in the direction of the bar for my well-deserved drink and dinner. And maybe a second drink. Nodding to myself, I think,definitely a second drink.
Before something else can go wrong, I hurry away. There is really no crime to call the police for even if I had my phone. I kick myself for having been so stupid as to go to a bank alone to make a deposit when it is dark out. That is safe girl 101. Duh.
Is it fair that I am vulnerable simply for having a vagina? Of course not. But the world isn’t always a safe place, fair or not.
I must be getting overly confident in my quaint little neighborhood, where it’s easy to forget there is a big, wicked world out there. Luckily, a dinosaur-sized dog showed up. I’ve never seen a pet like that. Could be some type of exotic collector animal.
I’ve been fortunate in my life to rarely stare down true danger, so I’m understandably rattled by tonight’s events. To distract myself as I walk, I contemplate the whereabouts of my long-lost guardian angel, but come up with nothing substantial.
I make good time to the bar, my steps fueled by fading adrenaline and chills, as the panic sweat turns icy under my arms. I should have expected the cooler evening and grabbed a jacket. And a weapon. I really need to pick up some mace, like I have been meaning to.
When I arrive, I head to the open patio bar, happy a seat is available near one of the outdoor heaters. I settle onto the high stool and the radiating warmth is blissful. I begin to thaw from the top down, the tension bleeding from my tight shoulders. Apparently, I’m not the only one pushing for a change of season.
Jason wanders over with a smile saying, “Usual?”
I’m here often enough that he knows I always start with an unsweetened iced tea. With a slight quaver to my voice, I reply, “No, I’ll need something a little stronger tonight.”
He goes over tonight’s specials, and I order a medium burger with gouda and bacon over lettuce with a side of sweet potato fries.
I am so grateful they keep a separate gluten-free fryer. As much as I'm loath to admit it, I'm a pretty frequent customer. I know I should cook more at home and probably eat more greens.
Lots of good intentions, but buying food and cooking it for one is just never great. I end up throwing half of the produce away, and that just makes me sadder about cooking for just myself.
Jethro’s makes its sauces fresh in-house and the sweet potato fries with dip trio are just so good. The sad produce drawer in my fridge doesn’t stand a chance against condiments from scratch.
“Extra dip?” Jason asks with a wink.
I don’t know why he asks, so I reply with mock outrage, “Jason, you know I’m a condiment girl! And I’ll take an Ocean with two rocks.”
“Oh, you’re in for a treat. We just got a new voyage.”
I love trying the different ocean voyages this bourbon uses as part of their aging process. Each one is just a little different. For a corner bar, they have a nice liquor selection. He brings me a generous pour and goes to put my order in.
He comes right back and probes, “Spill. Why are you starting with a bourbon? I know you’re closed tomorrow, but is everything okay? You seemed a little shaken up when you got here.”
As I retell the story of the bank deposit incident, Jason’s eyes keep drifting over my left shoulder. I reach the end of my narrative and scoff, “Jason, what are you looking at?”
Jason meets my eyes and apologizes. “I’m sorry, but there is a huge guy back there who keeps looking at you. Bummer you had such a scare tonight. Super weird. I always feel safe around here, but you’re right, we all need to be aware of our surroundings. And what was up with the giant dog?”
