The Barnum Dilemma – Conclusion
By
Monday morning presented a problem neither Mac nor Rose had anticipated; Barnum didn't want to be left behind. He stood blocking the door and his soulful stare and pitiful whines were enough to make both of them look helplessly at the other.
"I'll take him," Rose finally conceded. "He can stay with me down in Marine Studies and keep out of trouble there at least. I hope Trevor likes dogs--"
"Hey it's just for a few weeks, right?" Mac tried to be reassuring. "I can come get him for a run in the park at lunchtime, and we can finish up that errand at Build Mart tonight."
"Sure," Rose grunted, trying to hold Barnum back by the body harness. "But we better plan on keeping him at the Grotto--neither your place or mine has enough room for the three of us now--"
"Gee, I guess all that space *does* come in handy," Mac chided her with an I-told-you-so look. She stuck her tongue out at him and let Barnum drag her down the stairs to the pickup truck.
The day went surprisingly well. Barnum settled in on the carpet under Rose's desk, peeking his head out to watch the comings and goings in Marine Studies. Trevor was delighted to have a visitor, and frequently stopped by to pat the dog. Rose took Barnum on her rounds through the labs, where he sniffed at starfish and watched rays glide through their shallow pools. His only bad habit was his tendency to try and drink the water; every time he lapped at a tank, the briny taste would make him sneeze, and Rose would laugh.
"They're *all* salt water, genius--" she told him lovingly. "Haven't you figured that out yet?"
Apparently not; he continued to try drinking from them most of the morning. When MacGyver showed up at noon, He was amused to see the dog happily chewing on one of Rose's old swim fins, gnawing away at the black rubber.
"Teething--" Rose explained. "Go run him hard while I get some of these water tables cleaned out. And I wouldn't mind some lunch myself, hint, hint--"
"So what should we bring her, Barnum? Kibble or canned?" Mac teased while the dog washed his fingers. Rose shot him a look; he chuckled.
"Oh right--biscuits--"
"Maaaaaac--" Rose warned in exasperation, but he and Barnum had already scooted out the door.
Barnum had good speed and a puppy-like clownishness that endeared him to MacGyver. A huge scrunched-up ball of duct tape made a perfect retrieving toy; no matter how far or how hard Mac threw it, Barnum managed to bring it back within a minute. True, by the third throw it was a soggy warm mess of saliva, but Mac couldn't really fault the dog for that. They played the game for the better part of an hour, and wound down with a long stroll through the park, ending up at a garbage can to drop the tape ball. Barnum gave a mournful chuff as he watched it fall in the can, and Mac tousled the dog's ears comfortingly.
"We'll get you a real one, Barn--" he promised, loading the him up into the back seat of the Jeep and hooking his harness to the loops on the back of the seat.
"Both of you look tired," Rose commented as she glanced up from the microscope. Mac nodded while Barnum trotted his way under the desk and settled down with a sigh. Mac handed Rose a paper bag and checked his watch.
"Oops, gotta run--see you two at the Grotto after work?"
"Cream cheese and jelly, you remembered! Yeah, six is fine--" she took a huge bite of the sandwich and chewed happily. Mac bent to give her a kiss, licking away a smear of strawberry from her upper lip as he did so.
"Interestingly tasty--sorta like you, Brat. See you at six--"
*** *** ***
"Green."
"Blue."
"Green."
"Blue--"
"Greengreengreengreen--"
The initial argument had degenerated into a stubborn seesaw of friendly contradiction between them. Barnum was supremely uninterested in a color for the bathroom tile and kept nudging Rose's thigh. She absently stroked his back as all three of them stood in the doorway, trying to picture the color scheme.
"How about green *and* blue?" Mac offered in mild compromise. "We could kinda checkerboard the tiles or make a pattern with them."
"Won't that be hard to do? I'm not really artistic--"
"It shouldn't be too tough--let's go look and see what they have in stock," Mac scooped up his jacket. Rose followed him out the industrial doors with Barnum loping alongside her. Mac stopped suddenly, snapping his fingers.
"A ball, promised Barnum a ball--can we stop in at that Pet Central on the way?"
"Sure--" Rose agreed, grinning at his eagerness. "Just don't let Pratchett see us, or he'll be hurt that we went to the competition."
They walked into the store, Barnum wagging his tail, obviously enjoying the scents and presence of other dogs. Mac took a cart; Rose gave him a look.
"We need more kibble," he told her in a slightly defensive tone. She said nothing, but her grin was enough to make him roll his eyes.
Down the aisle they trotted, and things began landing in the cart. A ball. A huge rawhide chew bone. A black leather collar. A ceramic food bowl. Rose waved a squeaky toy at Barnum, who tried to nab it from her. Mac shook his head.
"The only thing I want to hear squeaking late at night is *you* Brat--" he muttered in a tone meant only for her ears. She blushed. Both of them were so intent on each other that they almost missed Barnum's sudden tension. The dog looked up and gave a tiny whine and when Mac turned his gaze up the long aisle he recognized an unpleasantly familiar face. Thinking quickly, he steered Rose and Barnum around the corner to the next aisle, hissing,
"Rose, take Barnum out, now!"
She looked over her shoulder and understood at once. Wordlessly she handed Mac her cell phone and latched onto Barnum's body harness, murmuring soothing words to the restless dog as she led him out of the store. Mac kept a wary eye on the shorter man as he dialed the phone.
"Pete--I'm at the Pet Central on Azusa. Ingersoll's nose-thumping buddy is here right now--"
"Has he spotted you?" came Pete's terse question. Mac could hear him frantically typing something--probably a pager message to Lloyd.
"Not yet. I'm going to follow him if he takes off before you and Lloyd get here--there's a good chance he'll be heading back to where the fights are going on."
"Okay, but be careful--you know people have been mauled to death, Mac--"
"I watch my step--" Mac promised. Shutting off the phone, he kept an eye on the man, slowly following him through the store. With a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, Mac noticed what was in the other man's hands--two large choke chains, and a heavy wire muzzle. Gradually he sauntered up to the checkout line and Mac trailed behind him, keeping a low profile. Purchases made, the man left, Mac behind him. Rose and Barnum were waiting in the jeep, the engine running.
"Damn--no way to mark his pickup--" Mac grumbled, reaching for his seatbelt in the darkness.
"I did--" Rose pointed. "Remember those battery stick-on lights you got for the stairway? Barnum and I planted a whole row of them right across the back of his truck--"
Mac glanced up and saw the bright discs. "That's great!"
"Hey, I guess your style is rubbing off, MacLover."
Mac flashed her a dimpled smile as they took off, chasing the roll of glowing lights on the battered pickup truck. He handed her the cell phone.
"Call Pete again, give him the cross streets so they can keep up--"
"Right--" she dialed as Mac drove. The pickup got on the highway, and eventually took an exit on the less populated side of town. Rose kept relaying information to Pete, but it became more difficult as fewer and fewer landmarks appeared. They were on a country road now, and houses were few and far between.
"We've got to hang back a bit or he's going to notice us--" Mac warned. "You okay?"
"Fine--what's that smell?" The pickup ahead turned off on an unmarked gravel road; Mac pulled up to it and stopped for a moment as all three of them listened. The faint sounds of dog barks could be heard in the distance. A sickly sweet odor drifted around them, getting stronger.
"Should have guessed--" Mac sighed. "They're running the fights on a pot farm--"
"Oh man--they're indulging?" Rose sounded shaky and Mac looked at her. "Not just growing but smoking it right now?"
"Smells like it--are you okay?"
"Mac, I have a hypersensitivity to THC--"
"What?" he turned the engine off and leaned closer to her; she shook her head and coughed.
"THC, the stuff in marijuana--about two more lungfuls and I'm gonna be hiiiiiiigh as a kite." She turned a bleary gaze at him. "Body chemistry thing. I have to stay . . . away from it if I wanna . . . walk straight--"
"Great--" Mac sighed. He watched her sway and rubbed his face. "You know Brat, at any other time, this would be pretty funny, but we are talking about large dogs trained to kill around here--"
"Yeah . . ." she burst into giggles and Mac covered her mouth with a hand. Hastily he took the cell phone from her.
"Pete?"
"Oh boy--is she okay?"
"Oh you heard that?"
"Be glad I did--We've got police and animal control people about three minutes behind you--maybe you better leave."
"Not until you reach us at the turn off--it's not marked and I don't want you to miss it."
"Okay, but after that, get out of there--I'm not about to have you and Rose in any more trouble if I can help it," Pete insisted.
"Right--"
The crunch of feet on gravel made Mac look up; Ingersoll grinned at him, an aluminum baseball bat on his shoulder.
"Hey, it's our bait dog and his two good Samaritans--" The bat swooped in a strong arc, hitting one of the jeep's headlights. Rose leaned forward and blinked; Mac struggled with his seatbelt.
"Hey! You're the fucking jerk who's a bass ass to good doggies and men with noses!" she yelled. Beside her, Mac winced, but managed to free himself. Barnum was growling a long low note of menace deep him his chest. The baseball bat swung closer, leaving a dent in the hood. Mac jumped out and darted forward as Rose lounged back against the seat, her hands stretching behind her.
"Don't you hurt my Mac's nose again you heartless dog hating meanie! You suck!" she shrieked. Mac fought a serious desire to laugh, and concentrated on staying out of the swing range of the bat. Something flew by his left hip as Barnum shot forward. Rose waved his leash in her hand.
"Go Scooby Doo!"
Barnum needed no urging; he plowed fearlessly into Ingersoll, knocking him flat. Mac grabbed the bat just as the headlights of the first police cruiser lighted the scene.
*** *** ****
"More?"
"More. Just leave the carton. So what did Pete say?"
"Thirty dogs, about a dozen operators, fifty spectators and about fifty thousand dollars worth of guns and drugs. A regular swap meet of illegal activities. You want a bowl?"
"Nah, just a spoon. We have any chocolate syrup?"
"Maybe on the nightstand--"
"Mac! Give me a break--this is a medical condition--I didn't *choose* to be susceptible to THC you know."
"I know Brat, but it's pretty funny--I suppose you figured it out around Newt?"
"Yeah--He's not as bad as I am, but it was tough on both of us through college. Most of his band know and try to keep their indulgences to themselves. I don't think I can face Pete in the morning."
"He's pretty understanding. Even about the nudity."
"Oh GOD! I got *NAKED!* Mac! Tell me I didn't GET NAKED IN FRONT OF THE DIRECTOR OF THE FOUNDATION!!!"
"More ice cream?"
END