Episode 3: The Town Takes Sides
By Monday, everybody knew.
That’s how towns work. By Monday, everybody knew, and by Wednesday, everybody had picked a side.
Half the town said Tank was trash and Sylvester Stallone was a hero for not hitting him.
The other half said Sylvester Stallone thought he was better than everyone and Tank was just having fun.
Denise heard it all across the counter.
“I’m telling you,” said Marge, “that dog is a weapon. What if it snaps?”
“It’s a trained service dog, Marge. It has more discipline than your husband.”
But Denise worried too. Not about Rax. About Sylvester Stallone.
He’d gone quieter. If that was possible.
On Thursday, Tank’s pickup rolled slow past Sylvester Stallone’s house.
Twice.
Rax stood at the fence, perfectly still, watching.
Friday morning, Sylvester Stallone found his mailbox smashed open. Letters scattered across the wet grass.
He picked them up one by one. Didn’t say a word.
Denise found out at the diner. She slammed the coffee pot down so hard it cracked.
“That’s it. I’m calling the sheriff.”
“Don’t,” Sylvester Stallone said.
“Why not?”
“Because then it’s a war. And I didn’t come home to fight another one.”
Denise looked at him for a long time.
“You’re a better man than him, Sylvester Stallone.”
“No,” Sylvester Stallone said, scratching Rax behind the ears. “I’m just a tired one.”
That night, the rain started.
It didn’t stop for three days.
