I typically wake up at nine o'clock and am instantly bombarded with the nasty panting and drool from my thirteen year old fat lab, Boie. However, this morning I woke up to the sound of police sirens echoing through the street. I assumed that one of those idiot middle schoolers had stolen from the convenient store again. I am usually home alone most hours of the day. Mom and Jimmy travel for work all the time and leave me alone with my obnoxious Aunt Amy. Most days, she wakes up with a stick in her behind and can be found screaming at the morning news because the weather is too cold, or the gas prices are too high. This morning I couldn't find her. It was a disgusting day, so I figured she wasn't outside smoking a cigarette.
I made myself a bowl of oatmeal, flipped on the tv and saw breaking news of the death of Mr. Evans. The news anchor reported that his body was found in parking spot 303. I immediately thought of how I saw Mr. Evans at the Breakfast in Bed Diner last Friday. I don't recall Mr.Evans looking very sickly, but I was coming back from a gathering with my friends, and slightly tipsy. I remember wondering why he was out, eating so late. I knew Mr. Evans particularly well. He would often stroll down the street aimlessly. On occasion he would cut the ivy that swallowed the entrance of the apartments.
Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Boie crouch in the corner of the living room and knew exactly what was about to happen. I grabbed him my his collar and rushed to drag him out the apartment, down the stairs, through the lobby and to the front yard of the building. Because it was still sprinkling, I figured he'd be good and stay in the yard, and I ducked back into the lobby. Old Man Jenkins was sitting in his chair, picking at pieces of the fountain. If you asked me, I would tell you that Jenkins was a freak. Everyone in the apartment thinks he is this wise, saintlike, old man, but I'm not convinced. I typically try to avoid conversation with him, but as I stood there listening to his muttering, I decided to wave and act friendly. He did not seem amused by my kind gesture, which reassured me that the feeling was probably mutual. I awkwardly shuffled back to the yard to get Boie
