Crooked Smile (WINNER of the MJFA'S 2017)

Chapter 12 - Of Dogs, Cats, Birds and Bugs

When they arrived back at Marilyn's house, they didn't make any further arrangements, but when she stepped out on the porch the following night, she immediately spotted the silhouette of Michael's afro hairstyle against the yellowish light of a streetlamp, that sucked away all colours and left the world in shades of grey and orange-yellow. He was half sitting on the front fender of a car, hands loosely folded in his lap, gazing at the surrounding houses, as if he had done so countless times before, and intended to do so countless times to come. And it was certainly starting to look that way, as he was there the night after that as well.

They walked around the streets of Encino. Michael was polite and friendly, asking her where she wanted to go or making suggestions that they should have a look one way or another. He probably thought nothing by it, but Marilyn relished his gentle attention, that was warm and relaxed, and that had a normality to it she had never experienced with her classmates. And whatever it was that made him come back each night, it did.

Some parts of their walks were filled with conversations on topics like movies they had seen or political matters such as the upcoming presidential election in fall, which would be Michael's first time to vote. The fact clearly excited him, and he made no secret of his preference for the 'peanut' Jimmy Carter, a view Marilyn had no problems sharing in. Michael's family, however, didn't come up again. And despite the fact that she would have liked to learn a bit more about the circumstances surrounding Jermaine and Randy, she didn't ask. She enjoyed his presence too much, even when they didn't talk at all, to possibly risk upsetting him or causing him to back away.

Other parts of their nights out were nothing but light-hearted fun. Michael had an entertaining character and seemed to be able to come up with an almost endless string of childish ideas. Sometimes, when he walked next to her, looking around himself with that boyish expression he would get and humming some melody she didn't recognize, she caught herself wondering where that young man had come from so suddenly. And then there was always a tiny bit of worry, too. The worry that he might disappear just the same way he had come, and leave her stranded.

"Look!" Michael giggled, leaning close to Marilyn, making her worries disappear instantly. A whiff of musk scent came with his motion, and the sense of warmth as his shoulder almost touched her chest. Along his outstretched arm she spotted a dog in a front yard, probably meant to guard the premises, lying on its back, seemingly fast asleep, its white belly gleaming in the light of the streetlamps.
"Well, that one isn't much use, is it?"
Michael laughed and shook his head. "No!"
They walked up close to the gate and pressed their faces against the bars to see better in the dim light.
"Aw, it's cute, though, making the best of a warm spring night," Marilyn said in a hushed voice. "And it's probably wide awake the moment it hears the slightest sound."
"Meow", said Michael.
"What are you doing???"
He shrugged and grinned. "Meeooww..."
"It's going to wake up!"
"Well, it's on the other side of the gate. Worst thing that can happen is that it starts barking. Meeeeow..."
"And what if its owners hear and come outside?"
"Well, I'd tell 'em a bit 'bout their dog startin' to bark at innocent people just walkin' down da street!" Michael said with an attitude followed by yet a wider grin. "Meeeooowww!!"

He tried a couple of times more, high and low, hissing and snarling, but none produced the desired effect - or any effect at all, for that matter. The dog didn't stir. There wasn't the slightest flap of an ear or the tiniest twitch of the tail.
"Maybe it's dead..." Michael said, doubtful.
They both looked at the dog with some concern, now. Marilyn sincerely hoped, it wasn't.

After Michael's vivid imitation of a cat, the silence felt odd. Slowly, she became aware of the night sounds that surrounded them. There was the faint hum of L.A. - of cars driving through the streets and the far away wailing of a siren -, the call of a night bird up in the Hollywood hills, the rustling of some small animal in the dry leaves under the rhododendron bushes next to the gate, and something else...
"The dog's snoring!" said Marilyn.
"Well, it's obviously deaf, then!"
"Meow," said Marilyn.
The dog jumped.
So did Marilyn and Michael.