Free Hound Dog & Bean by B.G. Thomas

“I’m a dyke. What do you think I would have? A smart car?”
    Poindexter told H.D. to head on to the back while she finished closing the register. H.D. found Bean dozing. Not good. He snapped his fingers. “Wakey, wakey!”
    Bean gave a slight jump and his eyes popped open. “What?” Then the startled expression morphed into a sleepy smile. “Hey,” he said. “You came.”
    “Why is everyone so surprised?” H.D. asked.
    Bean gave a slight shrug. “I don’t know. I only met you this morning. I thought you might get caught up in work and—”
    “I said I’d be here and I am. And I got you some more stuff—”
    “You really didn’t need—”
    “Of course I did.” H.D. dropped to one knee again in front of Bean and peered at his face. “Yeah, you’re bruising a bit, but not as bad as it could have been. Your nose is swelling too. You been using those potatoes?”
    “Yeah,” Bean said. “I just took one off a few minutes ago.”
    “You sure it was only a few minutes? You looked like you were out when I got here.”
    Bean gave him a sheepish look. “Well… I guess I’m not for sure….”
    “I am” came Poindexter’s voice. She stepped up next to them. “We’ve been putting them on for a half hour and then taking them off for the same, just like you told me. It’s about time for another.”
    “He can wear it in the truck,” H.D. said. “If you’re ready, that is.”
    “Sure,” said Poindexter. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
    “Show?” objected Bean. “I’m a show?”
    “More interesting than American Idol ,” H.D. said.
    Bean rolled his eyes. “You like that show?”
    “Nope,” said H.D. He leaned forward, resting hands on knees. “You’re far more interesting.”
    Best H.D. had seen in forever in fact.

CHAPTER TEN
     
     
    H.D. GOT in the back of the truck with the bikes after they settled Bean up front, cold potato slices on his eyes. It was the left one H.D. was most concerned about, though.
    It only took them a moment to get to Bean’s place. The house was nice. Mostly brick, two floors from what H.D. could see, and it had a big porch with a swing. He noticed there was a fenced-in backyard as well.
    Bean tried to prove he didn’t need help getting out of the truck and navigating the walk and the steps up onto the porch, but H.D. and Poindexter insisted on lending a hand. Better safe than sorry.
    The inside of the coffee shop owner’s place was nice as well. Lots of hardwood and comfortable old furniture. And bookshelves. Bean was a reader, and that was something H.D. approved of. Hound Dog was a reader from way back. There were years and years when books were his only friends—particularly when he couldn’t have a pet, especially one that wasn’t taken from him one way or another.
    “Where do you want us to park you, chief?” H.D. asked, looking around the living room.
    “Couch?” Bean suggested.
    “How about the big chair?” H.D. pointed to a large leather chair that reminded him of a bigger brother to the one they’d used at The Shepherd’s Bean. “We don’t want you going to sleep yet. You should really stay awake for at least twelve hours, but let’s keep you awake until least nine, s’all right?”
    Bean gave a shrug, and they helped him into the chair despite his protestations that he could do it himself. H.D. still worried about how comfy that chair looked, though. They had to keep Bean awake. Maybe if they let some light in?
    There was a sizable window that helped with that. At least, it did when H.D. drew the blinds. This house must have been built before electricity and wired later. That accounted for the big windows. Lamps provided man-made light. A midsized flat-screen TV sat in one corner of the room: nice but not ostentatious. If they turned that on, it might help keep Bean awake.
    All and all it was a very comfortable place. Just what H.D. would like to live in if he ever considered buying his own place.
    “Can you keep him