Hope Springs Autumnal

"Coming to you live from the city of angels in the Golden State, you're listening to KCQ FM. I'm your lovable host, James Frizzo, and it's time for our break-ups contest. We've got one broken heart on the line, ready to give us his story for the chance to win five hundred dollars!"

He loved his act, my boss. I figured I'd be waitressing in that old diner forever, until Frizzo found me. He got me started with a records job at KCQ, and everyone but my father congratulated me. It's garbage, mija. American love fluff. Where you are in life, you need values, not money or boyfriends. When my brother needed money for braces and my father came up short, I pulled the shoe box full of KCQ money out of my own closet. He never brought it up again, but after getting my own place, I lost touch with my father. I took classes to become a radio technician, and once I got my license Frizzo hired me full-time.

"Caller? Hi, we've got you on the line. What's your name?"

"Hi, uh, it's Peter, um... Hi, everyone."

James' product-laden black hair swirled a little as his head turned to smirk at us through the glass; he loved the quirks of people who didn't spend their lives preaching to an audience. Looking back, Frizzo was one of the things my father hated most about KCQ.

He'd hated our dog, too, my lovable white fluffer, so I ended up mostly avoiding the opinions of my father. Too much white hair, too much trouble, and nowhere for her to go once my mom passed away but for me to take her in. She was an old dog, a big beautiful thing, named Autumn. When I come at night, her big white head perks up behind the screen, so excited to see me again you'd think it had been years.

"It's great to have you, Peter. How are you doing? Where are you calling from?"

"I'm doing okay, just-- well, uh, Pasadena."

"Really, Pasadena, huh? I've got a real big mansion in the mountains up there. How about that? What brings you to our beautiful city?"

"Well, I work out here at the animal shelter, the one by 210. I do a lot of rescues."

Get a load of this guy, Frizzo's huge grin seemed to say.

"What a humanitarian profession. Peter, why not tell us your story? What's her name? She one of your rescues?"

James became bored of people's lives within minutes, unless they were women or business partners. The first day I met him in that diner, he just kept going on and on about how I deserved better, pretty face like you, get a nice nine to five and treat yourself right, but it was all just lust and smoke.

I learned my stuff. I did so well, he couldn't afford firing me like he had the other girls who wouldn't sleep with him. He told me I was the seventh to reject him like that. He was a disgusting sort of man; whenever he drank, he'd confess things, hoping someone would be impressed. After his wife divorced him, he took her dog out to the mountains and dumped it. He built his retirement fund off of his kids' college funds. He made a habit of dropping gum wrappers in charity collection trays. Fuck the poor. Worthless bottomfeeders.

"Vanessa was her name, and she dated--we were dating--we sort of dated for um, well, about a month. But I had known her for a while before that. We went to the same school, and she worked at the shelter for a while. She doesn't work there anymore. Uhm. That was about five years ago, I think."

Peter. I was surprised not to recognize his voice, but it had been years. The first day of class, he sat next to me, and didn't hear a word the professor said. He kept looking at me, in his cute offhanded way, trying to avoid being obvious. It was obvious, though, and mostly adorable, but a little weird. He had these dimples that sunk into his cheeks when he smiled the right way. Those were the good memories of Peter, seldom as they came.

"That is just tragic, bud. What happened? I know a Vanessa myself. Real snakes." He winked so hard it hurt.

"Well, I guess it started when we were taking classes together. We both went to PCC, and ended up in some of the same classes. She told me she was a part-timer at KCQ and studying radio, and I don't know if she ever managed, but--"

"Peter, don't fret over the details. Our office girls are vipers, let me tell you," he laughed, alone "but I digress. Who broke up with who? She broke your heart, didn't she, champ?" Frizzo's bare teeth were out to play, his thin lips curled back like wet paper. You? he mouthed at me, trying hard to keep himself from laughing again. I shook my head, but there was no stopping him once he'd started.

"I broke up with her."

He was, in most ways, the most polite boy I had ever met, yet he had a needy side that repelled me like a magnet. His questions were indirect, and his favors were loans. He asked me about all of my old boyfriends, only to obsess over any one of them in turn, until I bloated his ego again. He'd drive me to the movies, take me out to dinner, and why wasn't that enough for sex, you cunt? Sweet on the outside, but he was empty, and dull. Out of fear, or some kind of self-preservation, I only felt further from him the more his insecurities surfaced. We faded out, and then he vanished from my life completely. It was sudden, but...

"Why? Someone else?" Frizzo pointed at his own chest, and winked again.

"I guess it was... well, I had a revelation. About my life."

"Oh yeah? What drove you to the light?"

"It was August, I remember that. I was half an hour's drive out, responding to a stray dog call some campsites kept reporting. It was a great white mutt, all beaten and starving, terrified of people and hiding in sewer pipes. I remember there was a great cut along its head, where some bastard had tried to slice its neck after dumping it, can you believe the kind of person who just does that, takes a dog out and--"

"Look, Peter, we've got younger viewers on the air, and it looks like we have another caller, so I'm going to have to cut you short, okay?" but Peter's phone didn't hang up. Despite Frizzo's frantic waving at me.

"Sorry, I'm almost done, I just um, wanted to say the next part."

"We're having some technical difficulties, so it looks like, uh, nevermind, yeah, keep going."

"She was scared, but big, and after she snapped at me I went back to my truck and got a tranquilize. She ran like hell when I got her with it, and it took twenty minutes chasing her up the mountain till she went down, panting like crazy. But that was it. She had brought me all the way to the top of this massive overlook, a clearing between the trees that looked out over the city. I remember the way she kept looking back at me, too tired to move, but too afraid to fall asleep, give in to the tranquilizer, the sun shining off her eyes, and--"

"A majestic beast, Peter. Truly."

Autumn?

"Uhm, yeah. She was real beat up, dirty fur and bloody. She was asleep in no time, and I got her back down to my truck and took her down to the vet. I named her Autumn. I washed her up and she was adopted within a week, but I never forgot about her."

I had gone into the shelter to talk to Peter one last time--out of what, I wasn't sure-- but he wasn't working that day, so I looked at the animals for a while hoping he'd show up. I saw her there, crouched and terrified in the corner of one of the cages. The sheet on her cage said her name was Autumn, and that she was abandoned and beaten. She'd pissed herself, and her wounds were still raw from being washed. There were so many vicious cuts on her fur, it was hard to imagine what had happened to her. When I would come to the shelter with Peter, he would show me the animals, and he'd tell me all their stories: how he found them, what their names were. I remember thinking, then--why should anyone be subjected to a life like this? I didn't need Peter any more than Autumn needed to be hacked at--and that was it. To me, her name was about the kind of change you put yourself through when you're at the end of your rope. Summer's full of happiness, warmth, but it ends. Summer leaves you blinded by the sun. Winter's full of cold and misfortune, but it hardens you, and next summer you're ready for anything. And in between, Autumn, that's the tipping point.

"But I can't forget the way she just fell down in the dirt there, all the anger in her going out. I got thinking, she's so tired giving out energy to fight when safety came, she just didn't know, but I'm smarter than that, so why was I doing the same thing? Giving my life out to women who didn't want it, or fighting battles I was too dumb to understand?"

I went home, and told my mother about Autumn, the beautiful, abused, big white dog. She adopted the dog herself, bringing it home and told me even if the first half of Autumn's life was a mystery, now the rest won't be. My mother passed away in her bed with that dog sleeping beside her, Autumn's final service to the woman who gave her the world.

"So I just left, cold... it was very hard, to just up and leave someone when they're all you've got, but really, things ended up better off this way. I think. I've been single for a while, and money's been tight, so I guess, um..."

"Peter, that story is just touching, really, just touching. Listen, we've got another caller, so let's wrap things up. Here's the last question: if you could say one final thing to Vanessa, what would you tell her?"

"I think I'd tell her sorry. For wasting so much time, being such a jerk. For disappearing. I still think about her a lot, but uhm.. that's all. I don't want to say anything else. Thanks... for your time."

"Thanks for calling, Peter. Good luck with that lonely heart. If your story wins the prize money, we'll be in touch. Let's roll some tunes, folks, and then we'll hear the next caller! I hope you're ready for some MJ, because we're gonna Rock With You!"

I listened this time, pushed Peter off the line, and started the song.

"The hell was that? Don't you dare leave me on the line with your stupid ex-boyfriend ever again." Frizzo yanked his headphones off. "Christ. Dogs. Make me sick. Oh, I rescued a stupid, worthless dog someone left in the mountains, oh boo-hoo, I dumped my girlfriend and my life sucks. You dated a real loser, you know."

"Frizzo?"

"What? Are you even listening to me?"

"What color was your old wife's dog?"

"Brown. Brown as fucking mud."