Canterbury Revisited

Al Hillis finished off the last sip of Root Beer as he walked over to the thermometer hanging on the wall of his barber shop. He tapped the mercury bulb to see if it was broken. It read 108 degrees. He tapped on the bulb again, hoping it might change the temperature.
"The sun must have moved closer," he said as he stared at the temperature.
The air in the barbershop was hot and stale. Likewise, the rest of town had been silent for most of the day. Middle school students had been given a "heat" day to go home when the school’s air conditioners gave up. In some cities, 108 was no excuse for going home from school, but in Pilgrim’s Point that was not the case.
"l pushed his broom around the tiled floor, cleaning up scraps of hair he had possibly missed the day before. Throughout the day, he’d only had one customer and that was Jack Mathewson, who didn’t even get a haircut. Not that it was unusual. Jack almost never got a haircut. Jack would come in after fixing someone’s plumbing, electrical wiring, or whatever else needed fixed in a house. He was so quick and efficient, he usually found himself waiting for something to do. When he waited, he waited at Al’s Barber Shop or just down the street at The Old Watering Hole.
It was nearing one o-clock in the afternoon when his first true customer opened the door. It was Bille Blume.
"What can I do for you today?" asked Al.
Bill settled down in the middle barber chair and whirled about until he faced the large wall-length mirror. "Just the usual," answered Bill.
Bill had been a member of the Pilgrim’s Point police force for nearly 30 years. For most of that 30 years, he had his hair cut by Al. That was normal for Pilgrim’s Point. Everyone seemed to know Al and Al seemed to know everyone.
"Hot enough for ya?" Bill asked.
"Hotter than I care to think about. Can you remember there ever being a day so damned hot?"
"Nawp, can’t say as I do. It’s okay though. No one is out and about today. It’s too hot to move, let alone do some mugging or stealing. That makes my day a little easier. I s’pose they’re all laying in the middle of their living room floors, amidst a wagon circle of fans and ice buckets. They’re all hoping something will save them from this unbearable heat."
"That about sums it up, I guess," Al chuckled.
"I’ll be damned if I’m gonna save them, either."
Al turned on his razor and put two fingers against the top of Bill’s head. He gently pressed down with his fingers, moving Bill’s head slightly forward. Suddenly, he realized he had made a little "barber’s gun" moveing his victim’s heads this way and that, so he could do his job the best way he knew how. He chuckled again, then finished shaving the scruff of Bill’s neck.
Meanwhile, in another corner of Pilgrim’s Point, this particular dog day of summer was too hot, even for dogs. They were finding the darkest parts of the house and sprawling themselves out. If they could just keep themselves from the clawing hands of bratty children and bothersome flies.
At the Hillis home, a wire-haired Fox Terrier named Dodger was lazing under the bed, where a cold draft swept in through the window, down across the bare bedroom floor and puffed over his face. That spot under the bed was the one place where Al could find Dodger, whenever he was missing. He’d come into his bedroom and bend at the waist. Sure enough, Dodger would look up at his master. Sometimes, the terrier would spring to life, sometimes he’d just give Al a look that said, "Not right now, but maybe a little later."
Usually, this spot was the perfect mix of warm and cool, but today, Dodger’s tongue hung out as far as it could, trying to cool the poor dog. Dodger closed his eyes and gave a little gasp.
In a moment more, Dodger was in doggie Heaven...
Al’s wife, Elizabeth, was busy tending to laundry. She had finished four loads of laundry, and two gallons of Iced Tea. If it weren’t for all of the trips to the bathroom, she might have finished five loads.
Her daily ritual was always pretty much the same: she rose from bed around 8 am. She cleaned up and dressed up before waking Al so he could make it to the Barber Shop before 10. After Al left, she’d sit on the back porch with a pitcher of Iced Tea and the newspaper, solving the crossword, Crypt-o-Quote, Number Jumbler, and the Word Find.
If the game show or talk show hosts didn’t have anything interesting to say (which they usually didn’t), Elizabeth would drive down to the church and see if there was any volunteer work to keep her busy. By early afternoon, she would find herself back home, cleaning up the house or preparing dinner.
After her work was finished, she’d sit in the living room and read the social scene in the Sharolle Daily News to see who was doing what. Dodger would bring the top off a juice bottle and set it at her feet.
Unlike other dogs, he wouldn’t chase tennis balls, only the small metal caps off juice bottles. Libby wouldShe’d bend over and toss the cap across the room. Dodger would dart over to the cap, pick it up and then drop it at her feet.
By the time he’d worn her out, the juice cap would be perforated with tooth holes and filled with slobber. If anyone opened a fresh bottle of juice, Dodger would race into that room and wait patiently for the owner to cough it up.
It was too hot for that kind of activity today. In fact, it was too hot for a lot of things. Elizabeth pulled a fan out of the closet and propped it on top of a chair, facing it towards the living room sofa. Then, she collapsed on the sofa, directly in front of the fan.
After Al finished cutting Bill Blume’s hair, he cleaned up the shop and counted down the cash drawer. $59.75, fifty dollars plus the cost of one men’s haircut. Standing around in a hot, empty Barber Shop for four hours was all he could stand. He turned off the lights and locked the front door, closing up shop for the rest of the day.
Al decided he’d walk home, since it was only a few city blocks from the Barber Shop to his house. No matter what the temperature was, he figured he’d let Elizabeth rest while he did the walking. It was probably good for what ailed him. The heat increased his stride. He made it home in half his usual time.
"Elizabeth?" he called out.
"I’m in here," she called from the living room.
He went to the refrigerator and opened the door. Nothing looked like it would quench his thirst. As he stood there, the cool air from inside the refrigerator felt so good that he decided to open the freezer door, letting the cold air escape.
He held his face there in front of the ice box until a voice interrupted. "What are you doing home so early?"
Al poked his head out of the freezer.
"Ah, it’s too damned hot in that Barber Shop. I only had two visitors and one was Jack Mathewson."
"I have a pitcher of iced tea in the living room. Would you like some?" offered Elizabeth.
"I think I’ll just grab a Yoo Hoo out of the fridge."
Al reached into the freezer and pulled out a bottle of Yoo Hoo. He held it in one hand and carefully pried the top off. The lid popped as it opened. Al looked around for a second.
"Where’s Dodger?" he asked.
"I haven’t seen him all day. Try the bedroom."
Al disappeared into the back of the house and returned to the living room only a few moments later.
"Aww...Dammit," he said.
"What’s the matter now, Al?" she said.
She peered over the edge of the couch, only to see Al standing in the middle of the living room with a limp dog in his arms and tears streaming down both sides of his face.
"Oh God no," she gasped.
Without saying a word, Al walked outside with his dog. He laid Dodger in the tall grass and went to the shed to fetch a shovel. He returned and began digging a hole right next to the dog.
With each downward stroke, the spade ground into the fresh, dry earth. Al stepped on the heel of the shovel and pushed it until it was flush with the ground. The shovel cut large triangles of sod out of the back yard.
Eventually, he dug a hole approximately four feet deep. Probably big enough to bury a man.
He dug his shovel into the ground and reached out of the hole, grabbing the dog by his torso. He laid the dog in the bottom of the hole and stepped out. He carefully cut and churned the dirt pile until the bits were finely chopped. Handfuls of dirt were carefully spread over the dog, until all Al could see was warm, brown earth.
He grabbed the shovel and quickly finished his work, dumping the rest of the grass and dirt into the hole, filling it until it was a gentle mound. He rubbed his shovel over the dirt shaping it into a gently sloping mound.
Al returned to the shed and replaced the shovel in its proper place. Then, he returned to the kitchen and washed his hands before grabbed his Yoo Hoo and joined Elizabeth in the living room.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
Al nodded and took a drink of Yoo Hoo before turning on the television. That was a sign right there he was in another world – Al never watched television. In fact, he hated television.
Elizabeth laid on the sofa, spread out in front of the fan. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. This day was so hot. So hot and so miserable, she thought.
A hand nudged her on the shoulder. Al motioned for her to sit upright. As she did, Al joined her on the couch. His head slumped down and rested on her shoulder. Elizabeth rubbed her right hand over the back of Al’s sweat-soaked shirt. His body jumped in tiny shuddering tears.
"Oh honey. I know. I know," she whispered.
They silently on the couch until the sun began its descent and the temperature dropped back to something a little more normal. Then, they ate a late dinner and made a quiet retreat to their bedroom.
Hopefully, tomorrow would be a better day.