Earnest by Kristin von Kreisler

But beggars can’t be choosers.
    He tried not to recoil from the walls—hot pink, shocking pink, tickle-me pink. Whatever you wanted to call it, the color prevailed like an infectious rash that had spread from the hot-pink bathroom. At least Mr. Ripley, the landlord and a retired Marine, had painted the baseboards and window trim a civilized white. In order to stay on Gamble near Anna, Jeff could make do here if he had to.
    He could clean the last tenant’s toothpaste off the bathroom mirror easily enough, and a little bleach could send packing the kitchen sink’s mold. Though tattered, the red-and-brown plaid sofa was serviceable. Jeff didn’t really want to look at the mattress—he could always set his sleeping bag on top of Mr. Ripley’s ruffled pink taffeta bedspread. And there was a balcony for Earnest to loll around on. He wouldn’t mind looking down on a gas station.
    What mattered most was that the apartment was furnished. Without moving much from the condo, Jeff could stay here for however long—and he hoped it would be short. More important, he also hoped that Earnest could live here. Mr. Ripley, who had gray sideburns and a paunch, was the only Gamble landlord on craigslist willing to consider a pet, and Jeff had come running after work with Earnest’s photo.
    â€œHere he is. He’s a fantastic dog!” From his wallet, Jeff handed Mr. Ripley the picture, which he took with the tips of his stubby thumb and index finger. He acted like Earnest had mange that might crawl out of the photo. “I can’t bring him here right now because he’s at the vet’s. But you can see how handsome he is,” Jeff said.
    â€œI don’t care what he looks like. I care how he behaves. How do I know this dog won’t rip up my apartment?” To Mr. Ripley, Earnest was surely fanged and bent on destruction.
    â€œEarnest is a Lab. The friendliest, most well-behaved breed. He’s at the clinic because he inhaled smoke. He’s a hero. He rescued people in a fire.”
    â€œThe one on Rainier yesterday?”
    â€œYes.” Plant Parenthood was just two blocks from this apartment.
    â€œDoes the dog shed?” Mr. Ripley asked.
    â€œI brush him every day.”
    â€œBark?”
    â€œRarely. The only time he loudly voices an opinion is when he’s being protective.”
    â€œHow much does he weigh?”
    â€œAbout eighty pounds, but he’s surprisingly graceful. He doesn’t break things. He’s never attacked another dog.”
    Mr. Ripley eyed Jeff with misgiving. “Usually, I have to meet the pet in person.”
    â€œYou’d love Earnest. Everybody does. Really.” No pleading. Keep the desperation under wraps. “If you want someone to vouch for him, I can get a reference from his vet. It’s Dr. Nilsen. Do you know him?”
    â€œNever had a pet. Don’t much like animals.”
    â€œRight,” Jeff nodded.
    Mr. Ripley studied Earnest’s face with the focus of a general trying to decipher the secret code of an invading army. “I don’t know. I guess he seems okay.”
    Great.
    He handed the photo back to Jeff, picked up his backpack by the door, and pulled out a legal-size paper. “I’ll want a four-hundred-dollar deposit, and here’s the year’s lease you need to sign.”
    Aargh. On the phone Jeff had not asked about a lease. He’d hoped Mr. Ripley, like many landlords on their friendly island, rented with only a deposit and a handshake.
    â€œCould the lease be month-to-month?” Jeff asked. Otherwise, he’d have to break it to move back to the condo.
    â€œThe shortest I ever allowed was six months, and that was for my brother-in-law,” Mr. Ripley said.
    â€œWhat if I paid a higher rent each month?”
    â€œLike how much?”
    â€œSay fifty dollars?”
    Mr. Ripley seemed to consider this offer for a moment. “You could move out in a