Crooked Valley

Chapter Three

Guido grimaced as he heaved what was left of Salvador into a wooden chair and pushed it close to his table in an attempt to stop him falling out. He stifled a snigger as it struck him how much his master looked like a helpless infant propped up in a high chair. Holding back his laughter wasn't made any easier by the fact that Salvador promptly slid out of the chair and disappeared under the table. He bit down on his bottom lip, peeped underneath and risked a glance at the helpless form squirming on the floor. He was met with a dangerous flash from Mr. Gorde's eyes and he quickly retreated. It was clear that he would be the one expected to devise a more permanent solution to Salvador's limb issues, but currently he was too tanked up to care and so decided that a blanket and a pillow would solve matters for now. After all Old Gordy wasn't in a position to complain or reprimand him with a lack of any vocal capabilities. A cunning thought now entered his mind as his eyes narrowed and he pictured a future consisting of him running through fields, leaping like a gazelle with flowers floating down through the air all around him. A carefree life in which he left Salvador exactly as he was. That happy thought in mind, replacing all memories of Salvador's blankets and pillows, our little friend promptly passed out on the carpet.

Gregg had woken later than usual and found that his wife was already up. The smell of roast chicken waltzed with the breeze through the gap under the bedroom door. His stomach responded to the alluring invitation. As he wiped the sleep from his weary eyes, Gregg opened the curtains and noticed that the sun was already rising above the trees casting sprawling shadows over the picnic tables scattered across the lawn. He padded down the stairs in his socks, locating the boots he had worn last night when playing football with his three companions. After wiping the dried mud off onto the patio outside the door he slipped them on and wandered into the bar area. It would only be a few hours until customers started filtering in eager for their lunch. Maggie's cooking was famous throughout the Valley, especially her Sunday lunches at which times The Beer and Crisps Inn would be bursting at the seams.

Gregg was startled by a loud thumping at the main door and he wondered who it could be at this time in the morning. Sliding back the heavy bolts, he found himself confronted by his friends Argyle and Henry. One after the other they pushed their way past Gregg, but something in their faces told him not to reprimand them despite the fact that they had not spoken since the previous night's dispute.

Guido rolled over in his bed, vaguely aware of the sunlight shining in through the moth eaten holes in his thin, grey curtains.  They weren't long enough to entirely cover his solitary window and the glare reflected on the floorboards and cast it's reach on the carpet on which Salvador still lay.  Guido's master had been woken as soon as the beams shone onto his face.  He reckoned that he only had about two hours sleep if that and despite banging his practically useless arm repeatedly against the leg of the table, he had been unable to rouse Guido from his loud snores.

Guido's head hurt and he was reluctant to open his eyes for fear of the pain getting worse.  He considered how much ale he had consumed the night before.  He remembered playing Gin Rummy with Bartleby until both of them were too drunk to recall whose turn it was.  He also had a vague memory of trying to flirt with Myrtle, the barmaid with one glass eye and mortified he groaned and pulled the scratchy blanket up over his balding head.

Salvador perked up somewhat when he heard him and recommenced bashing at the table with the fist of one of his wayward arms.