LONG AFTER THE APPLAUSE DIES DOWN
by
Barbara J. Galasso

The janitor sweeps up the floor of candy wrappers carelessly left behind.  He walks up to the next roll of seats, picking up half empty cans of soda pop, an arm band is picked up, number 89 it reads and without giving much thought to it, he throws it in the trash can.  A forgotten catalog lies upon an open chair with the numbers one, two, three and four circled next to someone's unknown names.  Someone left their glasses behind.  He picks it up and puts it in his pocket to turn it into the lost and found.  It's been a long day, cleaning and polishing and making things look new again.  He's tired as he reaches to turn the light switch off.  The stadium is dark as he climbs the steps that will lead him out the auditorium door.  As he reaches for the handle, he hears a slight noise and turns to look in its direction.  He hears it again and recognizes it as the echoes of people clapping and cheering, and screaming and laughing.   He turns the switch back on once again and the arena is flooded with light and he takes a seat at the top of the roll and listens as the thunderous applause surrounds the stadium as it did all those days ago. 

"Excuse me sir", someone says to him as they try to squeeze by with popcorn and soda in their hands.  "Over here Tony," someone says.  I've found an empty seat."  Dogs are lying in the aisles.  He knows he recognizes this breed, but can't quite figure out what they call them.  "Oh, yeah, they're those police dogs," he says to himself.  He looks down at the middle of the arena floor and sees hundreds of police dogs in the center of the ring.   He sees dogs running around the stadium with people running after them on long leashes.  He sees some lady in the middle of the ring open the dog’s mouth and is looking at its teeth.  "She's a lot braver than me," he thinks to himself.  "And why is she touching his private parts?" he wonders.  "She's lucky he doesn't take those teeth and sink it into her leg," he chuckles to himself.  

"Pardon me sir," a teenage boy says to him.  "I think you're in my seat."  "Hey did somebody borrow my catalog?  I want it back, someone cries out in protest.  "Where the heck did I put my glasses?" a little old lady mumbles to herself as she sits down next to the janitor as she rummages through her pocketbook.

The dogs are all lined up in a roll over against the wall now and standing as proud as peacocks.  "Wow, I like that one in the front," the janitor says to himself.  "I've never seen such pretty police dogs before."  He hears someone whisper to another that they like the second dog better and why is the dog in 15th place not moved up further in the class? 

Just then the dogs are running around the ring again, one faster than the other.  He hears whistles, and bells, and chains that rattle, he sees people running around calling out names like Royce, and Lillie and running into one another.  He wonders where they're all running to in such a hurry.  He looks around uncomfortably to make sure there isn't a fire started somewhere. 

Then the lady in the middle of the ring points to the dog in first place and everyone stands up on their feet to a thunderous ovation.  He wonders if he should be doing the same thing only he doesn't know what he'd be clapping for.  He sees bulbs flashing, from picture taking, hands congratulating one another and others walking away cursing and tearing off their arm bands.  "So that's what that was that I threw away," he thought to himself.  I huge trophy is brought out to the center of the ring and the dog he likes is standing next to it.  He's so beautiful, that he wants to go down there and pet him. 

Just then he feels a hand on his shoulder and he say's to himself, "If someone asks me to move one more time, I might not be so accommodating this time," he says to himself.  "Come on Harry, for Pete's sake," he hears a familiar voice call out his name.   "If Mr. Drake sees you napping again, you're going to be fired," he hears the voice say to him.  He looks up and it's his co/worker John standing above him.  "I'm not napping John," he tells him.  "I'm watching the police dogs.  Sit down and watch it with me," he tells him.  "What police dogs?” John snaps.  There's nobody here but you and me, you old fool.    Now if you don't mind, I'd like to lock up the doors and get home tonight."

Harry looks back in the arena, and the dogs are gone.  He hears the applause dying down until there is nothing left but silence.  He follows John to the door, scratching his head wondering if it was really just a dream after all.  He turns one more time to look upon the arena and sees that beautiful dog with the trophy standing there looking up at him and waking his tail,  but decides not to say anything more to John about it.   When they get out to the parking lot, he reaches in his pocket to get the keys to his car, and feels the cold metal of an object.  He wraps his fingers around it, and pulls out the glasses of the little old lady.