Oscar and Jaime were in agreement: while Jaime was at Sunday mass, Oscar would look after his dog. Directly before mass was an appointment with the vet, and directly after he would be on his way to catch a flight to Los Angeles to visit his son in El Monte—a decision that would be an uncertain and doubtful one, but Jaime had his hopes—and Oscar would drive him there, bringing along Jaime’s dog because he was now one in only a handful of souls who still trusted Jaime. But above all else, Jaime stressed, missing church was not an option. Especially for a trip like this.
“And you’re okay with missing mass? How long has it been since you’ve gone to church?” Jaime asked Oscar on the day of the proposal. They sat on the old, plastic-covered brown couch in Jaime’s living room, which was shrouded in portraits and candles of Christ, Guadalupe, and other imagery. They sat awkwardly close and facing each other holding cups of cooling coffee in their hands, and Oscar noted mentally how abnormally empty this house seemed now.
“Oh, I’ve been trying to go again,” he lied, “but I’ve been so caught up in looking for a job and getting money and all that.” This was only partially true. The leading reason for his absence in church was a recent spiritual crisis following an incident at work.
Jaime nodded his head. “I understand, my friend, and I’ll help you out by giving you a few hundred pesos for taking me and looking after my little angel.”
“You’d do that?”
“Consider it done.”
“Great! Thank you!” So it was settled and they shook on it. “What’s your dog’s name again?”
“Angelito,” Jaime replied, and upon hearing his name, the little dog with poofy white fur scuttled up to the two men from his bed in the corner of the room. Jaime petted the dog tenderly.
“Oh, of course! Angelito, Angelito, that’s right, yes!” Oscar reached down and petted Angeltio, and as he did so the little dog peed happily on the burnt beige carpet.
Now, on their drive from the vet to the church, Jaime was politely apologizing to Oscar for the umpteenth time for ever possibly inconveniencing him, explaining again all the things about him and his
wife and daughter and why he couldn’t take the dog into the church because of all the noise he makes, and Oscar insisted again it was all alright.
During mass, Oscar thought about taking Angelito on a walk, but quickly realized this wouldn’t be possible for him, so instead he went just across the street and had a torta and spoke briefly with his
friend who ran the restaurant. He pinched off a few pieces and gave them to Angelito, who ate eagerly. By the time he was done, it was only a few minutes before mass ended.
He limped up the steps that led to the entrance and stood patiently under the shade. On the other end of the entrance sat a dilapidated man. He was old and dirty and heaved heavy breaths under the shade
and away from the terrible sun. He held a can weakly in his hand that appeared just as old as himself. It
was empty.
Inside, music was playing and people were quietly saying, “Paz de Christo,” and meanwhile the dog barked and growled at the old man. Oscar bade him to stop, but he paid no attention to him, only to the old man. With some effort, the old man tiredly turned his head toward the commotion and looked at Angelito. There was hardly an expression on his face.
Soon the mass would end and Angelito had yet to quiet down. His barks echoed into the church, increasingly growing louder not unlike Oscar’s anxiety echoing into his body. Unsure of what he was doing, or how exactly this would help, Oscar smacked the dog all around his face. He wasn’t conscious of the amount of force he was using, but he felt as though it weren’t so bad. Frantically, he smacked Angelito on the nose. The dog went limp, and plopped to the floor. He finally stopped barking.
Air sliced out of Oscar’s mouth. He bent down and wiggled Angelito’s head around, trying to wake him up. After a few minutes of this, he presumed the dog dead.
With now severely trembling hands, Oscar took out a plastic bag from his back pocket that he originally intended to use to pick up the dog’s poop. He awkwardly aired the bag open and scooped the dog inside it. He fit perfectly. The old man looked at him strangely as he tied up the bag and gently placed it inside a bush nearby. Mass ended soon after.
The bells rang out in simple, pleasing melodies as people flooded out and Oscar waited where he was in restrained nervousness. Finally, he saw Jaime and took a deep breath.
“Thank you for waiting, my friend!” Jaime said, taking Oscar’s hand and slapping a thousand pesos into his palm. He looked down at his palm with a feeling like happiness being peeled at the skin by remorse.
“Oh, thank you very much Jaime,” he began.
“Wait, where’s Angelito?”
“Ah, uh, your wife came earlier. Said she’d take care of him.”
A sudden splash of surprise, lightly tinted with horror, spat upon his face.
“What? But I thought—”
“I know, it was a surprise to me too.”
“No no no nonono, I ought to speak with that woman…” Jaime became jittery.
“Angelito is just fine, Jaime.”
“But— I— I think I should—”
“I think you should begin trusting her, Jaime.” Oscar planted a friendly, yet loving, hand on his shoulder. Jaime nodded shakily.
“M-maybe you’re right…”
“I’m right.”
You’re right.” Then, quietly, almost to himself: “You’re right…”
“C’mon. Let’s go.”
So they both went to the car—Jaime shaken and anxious, Oscar frightened and contrived.
“Are you really okay with driving all the way to the airport?” Jaime asked when he saw Oscar feebly limp into the driver’s seat.
“I’m alright.”
“Okay then,” he said, and paused for a moment. “I really appreciate you and all that you’ve done for me, Oscar,” he continued.
“Sure. It’s nothing.”
“Especially now,–”
“Yup.”
“–your help means the world.”
“Yeah.”
As they pulled out of the parking lot and squeezed through the narrow crowded street in front of the church, Oscar gave a nervous glance at where he was standing just a few minutes ago.
He saw the old man, hunched over in front of the bush, reaching inside it with both his hands. Oscar winced and cringed in dreadful anticipation but tried to keep a straight face. Jaime didn’t seem to
notice with his hands folded on his lap and his eyes staring pensively at the floor.
Right as Oscar was about to lose sight of the man, he saw a small, white figure leap out from the bush and prance gleefully around the old man’s feet.