4

  What a week Bee-bee had. No matter what she did, where she went, and no matter the time of day, the dog followed her around. He followed her from one day to another and then to another. Wherever she was, that seemed to be the most interesting place in the whole world for the dog to be. How persistent it was for a creature to follow a small little goblin!

  Never had Bee-bee followed another goblin around as much as the dog followed her. She didn’t mind so much, for the dog was never truly in her way. When he was, it was only a matter of asking him to scooch, to watch out, to move to the side, to back up.

  The dog followed her for so many days that she couldn’t keep calling him dog, especially not after she let him in at night for a proper place to sleep. Since they were so familiar to each other now, and its perked ears often seemed to make it look eager for a name, Bee-bee just had to think of a wonderful dog name.

  Arthie and Olive had revealed that the acronym on the crate was for Hayguard Advisory Merchants. The dog didn’t seem to Bee-bee like a Hayguard, nor an advisor, nor a merchant. On top of that, those were so long for names! Hayguard had more than three letters. No, that was much too wrong for a proper name. If only his name could be as simple as the three letters on the crate. Now that was a fine name!

  That was it then. Ham. She named him Ham. It was a proper name. That’s where he came from after all. Ah, she had put too much thought into it. At least it was a good name, and Ham seemed to have liked it immediately, if his excited barks had been anything to go by. Such a good Ham!

  Every day, Ham was at her heels. He either pattered after her, sniffed after her, barked after her, or sat and panted beside her while she baked tom pie after tom pie. Today, however, on a rather cloudy summer day, Bee-bee did something quite strange. She closed shop.

  The oven was cold. The low tables were clean and bare. Not a single mote of flour drifted in the light by the rathskeller’s windows. The shadows of hands and faces slipped across the floor and tables of the rathskeller. Humans were knelt by the windows outside, and they peered in through the panes. They murmured to each other, and they frowned, and they paced, and they ran their hands through their hair, and they shrugged. A belly grumbled.

  Bee-bee was nowhere to be found. The only trace of her was found beneath a wooden sign which hung from wrought iron rings above the stairs which descended to the rathskeller. The sign read Bee-bee & Ham’s Tom Pies. Beneath that hung another sign in another pair of wrought iron rings which read Closed for Ham Day.

  Mumbling quite a bit, the humans turned from the sign and meandered down the streets. They weren’t the only ones out and about. Everyone was out of doors today in their lightest linens. They wandered down cobbled streets where thoroughfares bustled with folk. Almost every door was stopped open to let in the fresh summer air. All shops were open—except the one. Sure, there were a few creatures milling about as they crossed the city, but there was only one goblin.

  Heading up Main Boulevard, Bee-bee straggled behind Ham. With Ham in the lead and pulling, it seemed that Bee-bee was the one on a leash and that she should have been the one wearing the harness. It was Ham that beelined up the boulevard, and it was Bee-bee that bumbled about. She hummed, but between her lips and all her humming came out buzzing.

  Both were enjoying the time of their lives. This was their first longest walk together, and never had they gone so far into the heart of the city. Bee-bee found it absolutely delightful to walk Ham wherever he wanted to go, and sometimes wherever she wanted to go too.

  A walk was a completely different thing with such a friend, Bee-bee thought. What a good-feeling it was! Absolute freedom! Who knew you could stop wherever you wanted just to smell things? Who knew you could zigzag wherever you wanted? Ham always knew the way, and he brought her to such wonders, and introduced her to such grand adventures!

  Bee-bee and Ham circled the giant fountain in the city center, right in the middle of the tree-lined boulevard. Stone sculptures spit water high from several fish mouths at once, and water cascaded over the rims of several stone lilypad bowls. Humans sat upon the low wall of the fountain.

  When a spray misted over them, Ham sniffed the air. He then pulled Bee-bee to the fountain, and he leapt upon the wall. Bee-bee hopped up after him. When Ham darted his tongue into the fountain’s water, Bee-bee realized how thirsty she was. Scooping with her hand, she drank her fill. Ham panted at her while water dripped from his pink and brown gums.

  “What a good idea, Ham,” she said. “Smart.”

  Bee-bee hopped down, and Ham followed her. He bolted through the crowd, and Bee-bee stumbled after him. She shrieked and laughed, and she held on tight to their leash.

  “Where we going?” she said.

  Ham glanced at her from the corner of an eye, and he barked.

  “You wanna stay on the big road?”

  Ham barked, and he pulled them to the side of the boulevard. He paused at a great pot which held a stunted tree. It offered a good shade which could fit the two of them, but Ham didn’t seem to care for the shade. A flowering bush which shared the pot had spilled over the rim. Its butter-colored petals looked like wood chips, or wood shavings, and a couple of buzzing things bounced about from flower to flower. Ham shoved his nose in the bush, and he sniffed so deeply that his chest ballooned.

  Bee-bee shoved her face in the bush, she flared her nostrils as wide as they could go, and she sniffed as deeply as she could. Bee-bee was surprised by how they smelled. Never had she smelled something so good that wasn’t food. She had nothing to compare it to, apart from honey. What a secret Ham found! Oh, how good-smelling!

  Whatever was good-smelling, Ham knew where to find it, Bee-bee learned. Not only did Ham lead them to all the smelly flowers, he also led them to bake shops. And each one had huge windows wherein were displayed an assortment of brown shapes. Sometimes the brown shapes had colors. They were beautiful to look at, and whenever the bake shop door would open, they were beautiful to smell at too. Sometimes Ham barked at the window, and then he looked at her.

  “Yes,” Bee-bee would gravely say. She didn’t quite know what Ham was saying, but she felt she understood on a deeper level in some way, somehow, maybe.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  Ham would wait, and Bee-bee didn’t mind waiting. That’s when she learned how smart Ham was. For all that waiting hadn’t been for nothing—and maybe that’s why he had barked. For on their second stop at a particularly busy bake shop, a round human came out of the door with one of those brown shapes.

  “Good morning, good morning,” said he.

  Ham barked, and Bee-bee said, “Yup, yup!”

  “Not too often we see goblins. Especially one with such a beautiful dog! What a good boy. What’s his name?”

  Ham barked, and Bee-bee shut her mouth. After all, there it was, Ham had spoken for himself.

  “My, what a happy looking fellow!,” said the man. “May I feed him?”

  Ham barked, and there it was. He’d once more spoken for himself.

  The man held up his brown shape, and he seemed to question Bee-bee with a look.

  “What?” she said. “What’s that?

  “This is a cheese laminate.”

  Ham’s tail almost propelled him forward. Bee-bee was astounded. This had been Ham’s plan all along! What a respectable dog, she thought. Wow, she would have never thought to bark outside a bake ship before. Ham was getting more excited. He must have known the cheese laminate was for him.

  “Do I get one?” said Bee-bee.

  “You’re welcome to come on in. Everything’s fairly priced.”

  “How come Ham gets a cheese thing?”

  “Well, he’s a dog.”

  The door to the ship opened, and a young man leaned out and said, “Chef. The butter’s gone warm.”

  “Oh dear,” said the chef, and he sighed. He handed the cheese laminate to Bee-bee. “It’s your dog, my lady. Why don’t you give it to him?” He smiled at Ham, offered the backs of his hand for Ham to smell, and then he dashed inside.

  Ham’s tail propelled him in circles around Bee-bee. The bready and cheesy smells wafted over the cheese laminate. Bee-bee’s nose was basted in waves of heat from the still hot laminate. Never had she been able to scrounge something like this as easily as Ham had. Wow what a dog! Look at his face! What charisma!

  Ham barked.

  “Yup, yup,” said Bee-bee, and she pulled the cheese laminate apart in half. Ham gobbled his half, and Bee-bee raced him.

  Then they were off, and now both Ham and Bee-bee eagerly waited outside bake shop doors while they peered through the windows. They didn’t get treats every time, and the treats varied from a small, weird, tough biscuit to a paper bowl of whipped cream, but one thing was certain. All the treats were meant for Ham. Bee-bee blew a raspberry. How could she compete with Ham, whose charisma seemed overpowered? Ah, but she could only pout when bake shop apprentices or owners only offered Ham delicious-looking things.

  Ham’s charisma was indeed overpowered, because no matter how jealous Bee-bee got when she couldn’t share his treats, one look at Ham dissolved all her unease.

  Beyond the small bake shop adventures, Bee-bee and Ham lived full days together. She closed shop sometimes thrice a week for Ham time. Never had she felt so alive and so adventurous then following Ham around the city on beautiful days. For no matter how rainy it was, Ham knew how to live, and he was eager to share that know-how with Bee-bee.

  Rainy days were the best. It meant mud. Bee-bee knew first hand how much fun it was to get muddy, but to have yet another thing in common with Ham—wow!—they were truly meant to be great friends together.

  She trusted him so much that when they got purposefully lost, she felt less and less anxiety each time. Ham always seemed to know where they were, where they were going, what to do, and when to return home. Olive and Arthie’s scoldings, when they returned home muddy, were worth it. Sure, she had to spend the hour or so cleaning the two of them, but she found that to be more than a fair trade. Ham didn’t seem to like the smell of soap as much as she didn’t like it, and they’d blow their noses and grumble about it.

  Each ham time day went by too fast for Bee-bee. They went by suspiciously fast. Bee-bee couldn’t understand how such amazing days went by faster than others. It did not make sense at all. In fact, it was downright suspicious. Why couldn’t bad days go by faster? Why was it the other way around? Absolutely counterintuitive.

  So it was with a deep sigh, that Bee-bee pulled down her Closed for Ham Time sign after one day-long walk. The Bee-bee & Ham’s Tom Pies sign swung in place. She locked the door behind them, and undressed Ham of his leash and harness. Ham shook his fur, gazed about, and barked.

  “Yup, yup,” said Bee-bee. “Another short, long day.”

  Ham, as usual, aimed himself at the oven. He barked, and then he gazed up at Bee-bee.

  “Aren’t you full?” she said. “We’ve been eating all day. I can’t. I can’t stomach anything else.”

  Ham barked.

  “How about tomorrow?”

  Against Ham’s overpowered charisma, not even his best friend stood a chance. Bee-bee fired the oven, and she buzzed about as she prepared two tom pies. Ham was her companion through all of it. Whenever he barked, Bee-bee said, “Yup, yup,” and she’d add more tomato sauce or more cheese. And when it came time to bake the tom pies, Bee-bee couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “You know what?” she said.

  Ham perked his ears at her.

  “Good call. I thought I was full, half an hour ago. Turns out, I had a lot more space left. I’m starving! Are you starving?”

  Ham aimed himself at the oven, and he whined.

  “You’re right!” she said. “The timer!”

  Bee-bee rushed to the low table where she had prepared their tom pies. How could she have forgotten to invert the hourglass? Oh, how silly! Now the edges were going to burn unless she guessed when to pull them out on time correctly.

  She inverted the hourglass, and Ham barked and barked and barked at her.

  “I know, I know,” she said. “It was an oopsy!”

  Ham huffed, and he sat, and he licked his own nose.

  “How long do you think it’s been?”

  Ham cocked his head and perked his ears.

  “I guess we’ll see,” she said.

  Bee-bee sat upon the low table, and she talked with Ham for the duration of the timer. She asked him about his day, what his favorite spot to smell was, if he knew the names of other dogs they met, and what his favorite color was. It was blue, she learned.

  Ham’s bark drew her out of her daydream. The hourglass had run its course, and she could suddenly smell burnt bread. With haste, she snatched the tom pie paddle and rescued both from the oven. They came out black on the edges, and the sauce was boiling. She put them on the low table to cool, and she sprinkled them with cheese.

  They devoured their tom pies in silence. Ham was faster at eating his, and Bee-bee couldn’t help but share what was left of hers with him.

  But all those tom pies, and all the baked goods and treats they’d shared, and all the distance that they’d gone, and all the hours that they’d been out suddenly wore on both of them. Ham was nodding off while still on four legs.

  “Okay,” said Bee-bee. “Bed time.”

  Bed time was a particularly companionable time for them. Since Ham was much pickier with where he slept, Bee-bee took to his preferences.

  Ham circled the rathskeller a few times with Bee-bee in tow. He sniffed at the corners, he paced back and forth, and at last he stopped at the front door and looked at Bee-bee expectantly.

  Bee-ee fetched their hay-stuffed bedding and spread it out at the foot of the door. Ham hopped upon the bedding, and he circled several times before plopping down. Bee-bee dropped upon the bedding and curled up at his feet. Once again, she thought, Ham had picked the best place to sleep. Through the gaps between the door and doorframe, cool air seeped in and warded the heat of the summer and the heat of the oven while they slept.