The January winter didn’t hold its numbing chill as in previous years. The air was cold, but not colder than the ground, releasing an unexpected fog on this particular Friday the 13th. Strange moaning sounds filled the air down by the old cemetery and few acknowledged the dreaded noise for fear of being asked to investigate.
It didn’t take long before the shop phone rang at Hi-Tech Addison Auto Repair. John and the guys had already left for the weekend, but Sunnyboy had stayed to grease the lift in the last bay. Sunnyboy got to the phone by the fourth ring and typed his secret code into the computer, generating a human voice response, “Hi-Tech Addison Auto Repair, how may I help you?”
“John, this is Mayor Rich Veenstra,” the voice said from the other end. “We met at the annual charity ball last November. Is there anyway Sunnyboy can investigate the strange moaning sounds coming from the cemetery?”
A set of front paws quickly typed on the keyboard. The keystrokes ended with a tap on the return button. The dog grinned as the computer spoke, “Sunnyboy is already headed down that way. We’ve heard the reports of poltergeists and ghouls.”
“Very well then, please report back to me once the situation is assessed and the area is safe.” The phone clicked, abruptly ending the conversation. Sunnyboy threw on his coat and headed out the backdoor.
The left gate to the cemetery entrance was unhooked. It wavered in the gentle breeze making a rusty squealing noise reminiscent of Halloween. Sunnyboy nudged the gate open and wandered into the dark forest of tombstones.
An eerie sound reverberated in the dense fog hindering Sunnyboy from determining the source of the moaning. His sharp canine ears drew him closer and closer to the noise-making culprit until—he saw an undead get out of his car and beat on its hood out of frustration.
Sunnyboy caught the man’s attention. The strange man turned around and his eyes popped with excitement when he saw Sunnyboy. “Hey, you’re that dog from Hi-Tech that was in the commercial at the Marcus Theatre before the Rogue One show.
Sunnyboy nodded his agreement, but took a step back when he saw drops of blood trickle down the man’s face. The man wiped the stage blood from his forehead. “Don’t worry about me, its just makeup. I was headed to a Friday the 13th party and my car started making strange sounds. I pulled in here to get off the main street.”
With a grin on his muzzle, Sunnyboy headed to the hood and signaled the man to open it. The hood was released upward and Sunnyboy hopped up on the fender and looked under the hood. He took in several sniffs and then pointed his paw toward the power steering fluid.
“Ah man, why didn’t I think of that,” said the undead man. “I should’ve remembered that sound from when my power steering fluid got low in the past.
“Yep, you got it right, Sunnyboy. I’ll head over to Hi-Tech on Monday and get it taken care of.”
Ruff, bark, bark. Ruff!
Sunnyboy headed out of the cemetery. The car started up immediately and moaned as it drove off. Sunnyboy pulled out his smartphone and texted the mayor:
“The moaning was due to low power steering fluids. The car is still drivable and headed home for the night. I’ll see to its maintenance when the gentleman brings his car to the shop on Monday.”
The mayor replied: “Thank you guys for all that you do for our community.”
Sunnyboy smiled, tossed his smartphone into the pocket of his coat and strolled straight back to the shop, well, except for a slight detour past a cute poodles house.