Jaime lived in the apartment opposite Anna, on the fifteenth floor of the last surviving high rise block in the town. The other neighbours had no time for Jaime, people don\u2019t for drunks, as a rule. Marco lived on the ground floor, you passed his door going in or out of the block. The dog was big boned with a black wiry mane, and the sloped spine typical of German Shepherds, as though his tail was heavy. He was old but could trot alongside the bike. Jaime called him Dobbo, and Dobs, but Anna used his full given name. Marco said, \u2018Hey, God turned his back on this dude. You can\u2019t fix him, Anna, it\u2019s too late.\u2019 Anna bought Dobbin sausages, but more than that she didn\u2019t know. Outside her door, her legs buckled, slick with sweat. She didn\u2019t check on Jaime but went straight into her apartment, showered and fell into bed. Anna ran the fifteen flights down and knocked on Marco\u2019s door in that emergency way, when you aren\u2019t sorry for the fuss, when the panic fits the task. \u2018How do you think he got him in there?\u2019 Dobbin, tightly compacted, had grown ice around him like hard, blossoming snowflakes. The freezer was unwilling to release its unexpected cargo. Dobbin retained his corners. Lots of wiry hairs were stuck to the freezer walls. Anna shut the lid. On the patch of wasteland behind the estate, Marco dug a hole. They lay Dobbin in it, compacting loose dirt over him, a final petting. Good Boy. High Rise Jaime lived in the apartment opposite Anna, on the fifteenth floor of the last surviving high rise block in the town. The other neighbours had no time for Jaime, people don\u2019t for drunks, as a rule. Marco lived on the ground floor, you passed his door going in or out of the block. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":287,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":[]},"categories":[373,371],"tags":[375],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"yoast_head":"\n
\n He complained, \u2018What am I, the landlord? People bothering me all the damn time,\u2019 yet there he would be, his front door open while he smoked in the concrete yard outside. Marco was Portuguese, the skin of his face made Anna think of a flawless nut. She could imagine that if you kissed him, up close you would see the fine grain. He was five foot three, a doll-house version of a big man. A miniature perfection.
\n Anna suspected his secret pleasure in being needed. Marco was the only person with a toolkit, and he knew how to use it. They all said, the whole block, if you have a problem, call Marco<\/em>. It was quicker than calling the council.
\n When she fantasised about him, she imagined Marco even smaller. Not because she wanted a tiny sexual partner, that was just how the fantasy was shaped. She, a pale giantess, a queen larva, and he, almost like a squirrel, darting over her, perfect and sleek. Very nimble. She believed the strangeness of this fantasy meant that she loved Marco in a special way, as a pet or spirit guardian. Nevertheless, his virility could not be denied.
\n Anna could not have guessed Jaime\u2019s age. Somewhere between thirty and sixty, if you held a gun to her head. With drunks, age was hard to tell. Jaime acquired a dog, sources unknown. The way other people might catch a head cold, or find gum stuck on the sole of their shoe.
\n \u2018Anna, the block rules say no pets.\u2019
\n Though the wisdom of keeping a dog in a fifteenth-floor apartment was questionable, she defended Jaime, saying,
\n \u2018\u2019He\u2019s very gentle.\u2019
\n \u2018Nah man, I don\u2019t like it,\u2019 Marco narrowed his squirrel nut eyes.
\n Anna argued, \u2018It gives him a reason to get up in the mornings. He\u2019s all alone.\u2019
\n \u2018I live alone!\u2019 Marco protested, but he knew it was different. \u2018This damn building,\u2019 he said.
\n Through similarly mysterious channels Jaime obtained a bicycle, which he rode when walking became increasingly difficult.
\n \u2018Gout,\u2019 Jaime told Anna, \u2018Me bunions swole up like bleedin\u2019 radishes.\u2019
\n Like untreated wood left out in all weathers, his legs had also begun to bow.
\n \u2018What\u2019s with his walk?\u2019 Marco asked her. \u2018The drink bust his legs out like that?\u2019 He bent at the knees, illustrating the shape. \u2018Won\u2019t stop a goat in an alleyway.\u2019
\n \u2018Why would he need to?\u2019 asked Anna.<\/p>\n
\n \u2018Dobbin looks like a wolf,\u2019 she said.
\n \u2018He\u2019s soft as butter mate,\u2019 Jaime replied.
\n But how soft was butter?
\n High rises were built to be rid of urban slums. Vertical villages, reaching high. Anna might have lived closer to the ground, she had choices, but she liked the view.
\n \u2018The higher you go, the more there is,\u2019 she said.
\n \u2018And the further you got to get down,\u2019 Marco replied.
\n Jaime had lived there longest. Anna didn\u2019t ask about his situation, it was wrong, to ask anything of a drunk. He would have lost so much already.
\n \u2018His mother used to come by,\u2019 said Marco, \u2018but she don\u2019t no more.\u2019
\n \u2018Did they fight?\u2019
\n \u2018Anna, I don\u2019t know this. You ask like I got the answers. Maybe she get too old for the trip.\u2019
\n \u2018Was she sad?\u2019 It must be difficult, for the mother of a drunk.
\n \u2018Sad, I don\u2019t know. She was a big lady, walked like a sick chicken.\u2019
\n \u2018A sick chicken?\u2019
\n \u2018Yeah, you know, like\u2026\u2019 Marco leaned, first on one foot then the other.
\n \u2018Like she wobble along, real old, you know?\u2019 He shrugged.
\n\u2018 Maybe she died,\u2019 said Anna.
\n \u2018Maybe.\u2019
\n \u2018That\u2019s really sad.\u2019
\n Marco shrugged again.
\n \u2018My mother died.\u2019
\n \u2018Marco, I\u2019m so sorry.\u2019
\n \u2018Hey I\u2019m just saying, mothers, they all die sometime, right?\u2019<\/p>\n
\n \u2018Too late for what?\u2019 she asked.
\n Maybe intervention is never possible anyway, she thought. You cannot save people you can only love them<\/em>, she read that once. Still, she would have expected more, from God.
\n \u2018You shouldn\u2019t buy that shit for him,\u2019 said Marco. The vodka bottles clinked in the grocery bags as she walked by the wall where he leaned, scrolling his phone.
\n \u2018But I don\u2019t buy it,\u2019 Anna said. \u2018He gives me the money and a list.\u2019
\n \u2018If he wants it, he should go buy it himself.\u2019
\n \u2018But his legs don\u2019t work!\u2019
\n \u2018Then why the fuck he drinking?\u2019 Marco shook his head. \u2018For shame, Anna. For damn shame.\u2019
\n She didn\u2019t like buying the vodka, but a list was made for a reason, wasn\u2019t it? You cannot save people, you can only love them<\/em>.
\n One morning Anna let herself into Jaime\u2019s apartment. She hadn\u2019t yet brushed her teeth and could still taste breakfast cereal, that milk taint saliva. He had shouted her name repeatedly, so she knew something was wrong.
\n There wasn\u2019t enough in the flat to get messy, but it was dirty. There were empty bottles of Glen\u2019s<\/em> vodka and overflowing ashtrays. Beside Jaime\u2019s old wingback chair was a bucket, which Anna was very careful not to look into. Very careful.
\n Dobbin lay on his square blue bed. It bore a pattern of bones and was covered in hair. Curtains drawn, the apartment was dark, everything coated in a film of something between mood and matter. Anna was accustomed to the flat, she dropped in two, sometimes three times a week. She had a key to save Jaime getting up, but he didn\u2019t let her run around after him. He put away his own groceries. She respected that.
\n \u2018It\u2019s community,\u2019 she told Marco.
\n \u2018If you say so,\u2019 he replied.<\/p>\n
\n \u2018He\u2019s not eating nothing are you Dobs?\u2019 Jaime was clearly worried.
\n \u2018Scared of the vet, Dobbo is,\u2019 he said, when she suggested taking him.
\n They entered a sort of limbo, a Dobbin-vigil, except on the surface, everything stayed the same. Anna still went to work, Jaime still sat in his chair. Time passed, one, two, three nights. Looking back, Anna saw that they knew Dobbin was dying. Life was like that, sometimes. You needed to get a little way in front of something to make it out.
\n The fourth day, Dobbin was gone. Anna didn\u2019t make a big deal of it.
\n \u2018People manage their grief in many ways,\u2019 she told Marco.
\n She was curious though, as to the body\u2019s whereabouts. The hair covered blue bed with its pattern of bones was halfway rolled up, as if Dobbin had perhaps tidied before departure or, and this was more likely, been pulled from it post mortem.
\n Marco shook his head, \u2018You sure he\u2019s dead?\u2019
\n She was sure. \u2018Jaime said, Dobbo passed on mate. To the other side<\/em>.\u2019
\n \u2018The other side of what? He\u2019s got the dead dog up there somewhere.\u2019
\n \u2018Haven\u2019t you seen anybody come by?\u2019
\n \u2018For sure. I have a bad feeling here, Anna.\u2019
\n \u2018It must be,\u2019 Anna considered, \u2018that someone came by and we didn\u2019t see. That\u2019s all.\u2019
\n It was only a one-bedroom apartment, there was nowhere Jaime could have put Dobbin. Life carried on, the way it does. They let it go.
\n The long days of summer drew on. Anna always visited her mother the last weekend of the month. Her mother was sick. That long term sick you get used to, until you don\u2019t remember the person without the sickness.
\n Anna missed a bus and was late home. The block elevator was broken again, she would have to take the stairs.
\n Marco was smoking outside. \u2018Good trip?\u2019
\n \u2018Yeah.\u2019 She smiled. \u2018Have you seen Jaime over the weekend?\u2019
\n \u2018Nah.\u2019 He stubbed out his cigarette. \u2018Listen, Anna, you want me to carry your bag up? You look busted.\u2019
\n She shook her head. \u2018Thanks though Marco. Night.\u2019
\n Marco opened his arms wide. \u2018Ground floor living, Anna. I\u2019m just saying.\u2019<\/p>\n
\n After work the following day she stopped by the One-Stop garage and bought a pack of tropical Solero<\/em> ice-cream sticks. Anna didn\u2019t curse but if she did, she would have cursed the damned broken elevator.
\n When there was no reply at Jaime\u2019s door she let herself in.
\n At first, she thought he was dead. She could only see his hand, but it was very still. Still enough to be dead.
\n \u2018Jaime?\u2019
\n She stepped closer.
\n \u2018Jaime?<\/em>\u2019 She leaned, closer still. \u2018Are you okay?\u2019
\n His face, hollow around missing teeth, leaned against the wing of the chair. He was drooling, but he was not dead. A bottle of Glen\u2019s<\/em> vodka nestled in his lap, almost empty, screw lid missing.
\n His bare feet were purple and swollen, the bunions far worse than any imaginable radish. Folding Dobbin\u2019s bed on the small coffee table, she hoisted Jaime\u2019s legs onto it. His skin was dry and papery.
\n \u2018Murnu duh?\u2019 he mumbled. \u2018Shwaurn?\u2019
\n Remembering the Solero<\/em> ice creams, she walked to Jaime\u2019s big chest freezer and opened the lid.<\/p>\n
\n Marco followed her up the stairs like the weariest man in the world.
\n \u2018Come on,\u2019 she said over her shoulder. \u2018Quickly.\u2019
\n \u2018It\u2019s not going anywhere.\u2019
\n \u2018Why are you bringing your tool bag? I don\u2019t think you can fix this.\u2019
\n \u2018Listen Anna, this place, you never know.\u2019<\/p>\n
\n Inside the freezer, Dobbin had taken on rectangular dimensions unnatural for a German Shepherd, or any sort of dog. He left not much room for anything else. His legs curled around a frozen packet of hash browns.
\n \u2018Jaime\u2019s favourite,\u2019 Anna remarked.
\n \u2018Damn,\u2019 said Marco. \u2018Dude put his fucking dog on ice.\u2019
\n \u2018But how?\u2019
\n \u2018I\u2019m saying the drunk carried him in there, unless this a first-time dog suicide. In which case I sympathise.\u2019 Marco smiled at the thought of the suicidal dog.
\n \u2018But Jaime can hardly walk!\u2019
\n \u2018Anna, I don\u2019t know. It\u2019s a miracle, you tell me.\u2019
\n \u2018We could have helped.\u2019
\n \u2018Dog\u2019s his big pal, right? Guess he didn\u2019t want to see him go.\u2019
\n \u2018Maybe his dignity kept him from asking for help.\u2019
\n \u2018Anna. The guy pisses in a bucket by his chair. His legs make a damn circle. Don\u2019t talk to me about dignity.\u2019
\n \u2018We should give him a proper burial.\u2019
\n Marco looked at her. \u2018You\u2019re talking the dog, right?\u2019<\/p>\n
\n \u2018Maybe we shouldn\u2019t,\u2019 Anna said, as they chipped around Dobbin\u2019s block, Marco with a hammer and she with a butter knife.
\n He didn\u2019t look up. \u2018Anna, I was not raised to leave bodies in freezers.\u2019
\n \u2018My fingers are so cold.\u2019
\n \u2018So get gloves. Listen, pass me the chisel.\u2019
\n The chisel was effective. \u2018It\u2019s all in the tools, man,\u2019 said Marco. <\/p>\n
\n \u2018Damned useless elevator,\u2019 said Marco, as they set off, down the concrete stairs.
\n Dead Dobbin bared his teeth over Marco\u2019s shoulder. Like he was joking or making the emptiest of threats. His bloodless, grey-blue tongue was frozen stuck over one side of his nose. Marco\u2019s shoulders were broad in comparison to his compact frame. Anna looked at the muscles of his arm and she couldn\u2019t help it, she thought of the busy heat of the squirrel. She kept her place in the solemn funeral procession, staring shamefully at the beautiful arms.
\n \u2018Stop at old Max\u2019s for his shovel. He has an allotment.\u2019 Marco and Dobbin waited in the stairwell while Anna knocked.
\n \u2018You burying someone, Anna?\u2019 asked Max, handing her the shovel.
\n \u2018Yes,\u2019 she smiled. <\/p>\n
\n \u2018Shouldn\u2019t he have a cross?\u2019 Anna asked. \u2018A marker or something?\u2019
\n Marco sighed, \u2018Okay, wait.\u2019
\n He kicked around in the scrub and found a short piece of wood.
\n \u2018You want to write his name?\u2019 Marco fished in his pocket for a pen.
\n She did.
\n \u2018I\u2019m knowing you too well now, Anna.\u2019
\n \u2018Should we pray?\u2019
\n \u2018Nah man, I don\u2019t think so.\u2019
\n \u2018Okay.\u2019
\n \u2018We better go check on the drunk.\u2019
\n \u2018Okay.\u2019
\n She stood up, brushing dirt from her knees.
\n \u2018Nice,\u2019 said Marco.
\n The piece of wood read:<\/p>\n