The Dog in the Freezer by Harry Mazer Page A

when Jake dropped the paper, the dog snarled as if he were going to burst through the door.
    Then Jake would hear Mr. Kleiner. “Shut up, barfbag! You piece of garbage, get over here.”
    â€œCollecting.” Tuesday night, Jake stood in front of 5G. He’d missed Mr. Kleiner on Saturday. He could hear thedog sniffing on the other side of the door even before he rang the bell.
    Mr. Kleiner opened the door, and the dog shot out from behind his legs like a bullet. He was all teeth and growl. Jake jumped back. He didn’t want to, but he couldn’t help himself. “Collecting, sir!”
    The dog bristled and bounced, like a hairbrush with feet.
    â€œNice doggy, nice doggy!”
    He lunged at Jake’s ankles. The hairs on his gray muzzle stood straight out.
    Jake danced to save his life. Mr. Kleiner watched as if Jake were putting on a show.
    The dog’s teeth were shiny, white, and wet, and he was spitting foam. Mr. Kleiner finally picked him up by the scruff. “What’s the matter with you, you dried-up little fart.” He threw the dog inside and shut the door.
    They were both inside, and Jake was outside. He hadn’t gotten paid again—it was two weeks now—but he didn’t care. He was glad to get away alive.

• FIVE •
Nelson
    If 5G was the worst, 7A was the best. That was where the Martinezes lived with their dog, Nelson. Connie Martinez was one of Jake’s best friends, and his very best friend in the building. Her father was a painting contractor and kept his ladders and paint tarps in the basement. He let Jake keep his newspaper cart there, too.
    When Jake collected, Nelson always came to the door with Connie. Nelson was a big, creased, friendly beagle. He loved company. While Connie went for the money, Jake squatted down and talked to him. “Nelson, are you going to bite me?” He put his hand in Nelson’s mouth. “Friends don’t eat each other.”
    â€œI can’t talk to you now,” Connie said, coming back with the money. She had bangs and wore glasses that magnified her dark eyes. “The book I’m reading is too exciting.”
    Jake saw Connie again the next afternoon, on his way home through Madison Park. He’d bought a plant in the flower district and it was sticking out of his knapsack. Nelson was in the dog run chasing around with some other dogs. “Nice plant,” Connie said.
    â€œIt’s for my mother’s birthday.” Jake stood there, watching Nelson. “He’s having a good time,” he said. They talked about Nelson, and he told her about Mr. Kleiner’s dog.
    Connie didn’t think she knew him. “What’s his name? I know all the dogs in our building.”
    â€œI don’t think he has a name.”
    â€œWhat does 5G call him?”
    â€œYou don’t want to hear.”
    â€œIs he small and dark and totally crazy and nervous?” Close up, Connie’s eyes could be hypnotic. “Small dogs always bark a lot,” she said. Her eyes left no room for disagreement. “That’s the way they get respect.”
    â€œWho’s going to respect that cockroach?”
    â€œThere’s something lovable about every dog.” She pushed back the sleeves of her sweatshirt. It was oversized and came down to her knees.
    â€œYou think all dogs are nice because of Nelson.”
    When Nelson heard his name mentioned, he came over and sat at Jake’s feet. Jake scratched his head.
    â€œDon’t let him near your mother’s plant,” Connie said. “He chews up everything.”
    â€œYou’re not going to chew up my plant, are you, Nelson?” Jake said. “Nelson’s an old pussycat.” Jake pulled him around like a big stuffed pillow. “This is an easy dog to like.”
    â€œDid you ever try giving that little dog in 5G a smile?” Connie said.
    â€œDid you ever smile through a door?”
    â€œWell, you