Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
YORICK
I nearly fry up in the sunshine while rushing to Julian and Casimir’s house, more than prepared to risk my life to get there early.
“What the fuck, Yorick, why are you here so early? I swear I see you steaming,” Julian exclaims when he sees me.
“Nah, I’m all good. For sure,” I say. “I didn’t want Casimir to think I was slacking on the job.
I had feared that I would sleep in too late, but how could one sleep with all the texts I’ve received from Casimir detailing every single thing his dog needs and all the numbers for his vets and every other thing that could possibly happen in the mere forty-eight hours you’ll be gone?
I even got one text detailing the course of action if there is a tornado.
A tornado, Julian. There isn’t even a drop of rain predicted in the forecast for the next week.
And I’m pretty sure he was hinting at what should be done in the case of an apocalypse. ”
“I told him to send you one text that just tells you how much to feed him.”
“I believe that’s among the fifty-two texts,” I say. “Oh, and the threats of what would happen if I fail any of it are equally impressive.”
“Casimir,” Julian calls in a warning tone.
“I hear nothing,” Casimir says as he walks up with their suitcase. “I have cameras up. I will be watching you every second of the day.”
“Oh, I’m well aware. I believe that was text number thirty-nine.”
“I really hope he’s being sarcastic, but I’m actually not sure,” Julian realizes.
Casimir is too busy kneeling in front of his dog. “Now you listen to me. If he tries anything or if he fails at anything, you let me know, and I will fuck him up so hard he’ll never be able to return, understand?”
Gustov just wags his tail, pleased as can be.
“If he doesn’t feed you perfectly or if your water bowl ever runs dry, I will lock him up and refuse to let him feed, okay? We’ll let him become a little dried-up corpse barely hanging on to life,” Casimir continues.
“Sometimes your jokes concern me. Ha ha…” I trail off while I question whether I’m actually going to live through this experience even if I do everything perfectly. He’ll come home and find Gustov’s hair ruffled and demand that I’m sent to the guillotine.
“Come on. Let’s get going. He’s fine, he’s fine,” Julian says as he gives Gustov a pet on the head and then me one, which makes me smile giddily, quite pleased with the affection. But Casimir is there to quickly smack that affection away with his glower.
“I’m watching you.” He points out all of the cameras but I only smile at him.
“You can unplug all of the cameras if they make you uncomfortable,” Julian assures me while Casimir looks at him like he’s betrayed him.
And somehow, he drags Casimir out, leaving me alone with the dog who rushes to the door to see why they’ve refused to take him with them.
Honestly, they could have just taken both of us!
That would have been significantly more fun.
“Hmm… what do we want to do now, Gustov?” I ask as I snap a picture of him looking cute and send it to the two of them. Casimir hearts it immediately and I realize I’ve found a new way to gain Casimir’s attention.
Gustov sighs, dejected, and hurries over to chew on his new toy—the living room is littered with toys that I nearly snap my ankle on when I make my way through the house.
I eye one and grab it before heading out into the backyard where I throw it and Gustov bounds after it.
Because of the ridiculous cut the groomer gives the poodle, he looks especially goofy as his bound hair flips this way and that from on top of his head.
But it brings me joy for a short while before I sit on the steps to the deck and pull out my phone.
Me: I need more money.
Atticus: What the hell do you need money for?
Me: I would like a dog. A fluffy one.
Atticus: You can barely take care of yourself; how the hell are you going to take care of a dog?
Me: Says the man with a butler.
Atticus: Don’t you fucking dare diss Johnny.
Me: I’m not dissing Johnny! I’m saying you’re worse than me!
Atticus: I’m sorry, who is worse than who as I perch my ass upon my throne of gold?
Me: Sounds like you don’t need all your money, then, do you?
Atticus: I will give you five dollars for every day you don’t text me.
Me: How delightful to get paid to not have to interact with you. But how will you handle not interacting with me? You know you love my beautiful looks and my fabulous brain.
Atticus: I’m dropping it to four a day.
Me: *middle finger emoji*
“I have secured myself a grand total of five dollars, Gustov. I will be rich by the time I’m nine hundred and seventy-two.”
Gustov seems impressed.
I will simply pester Atticus every day until he caves and gives me money. It really shouldn’t take too long, and if he wanted me to go the silent route, he would have had much more success if he’d offered far more money. It’s almost as if he wants to talk to me.
With that, Gustov and I hurry into the house to find something else to do. Or to nose through every inch of the house.
Casimir: Nosy men don’t survive.
Me: I was only going up to my room!
Does this monster have cameras in the hallways as well?
Casimir: Is that a grass stain I see on my precious poodle?
Me: For every insult you send my way, I’ll chop off a lock of this poodle’s hair. Starting with this one on his head.
Casimir: I will hunt you down and tear you apart piece by piece.
I huff at that and head to my temporary room before flopping down on the bed. I’m tired after having not slept at all earlier, so when Gustov jumps up onto the bed and curls up in my arms, I immediately fall asleep, feeling at ease for once.