Shorts4Dinos
Shorts4Dinos
A Eulogy
wc: 4280 2018
“Why do you have to go now?” Hugo asked. It’s never an easy question, no matter how many times I’ve had to answer it. Even when it’s not my kid. I scratched my neck, forcing my fingers below my collar, and looked up at Mr. and Ms. Sandy, hoping they’d have the answer for their devastated child. They returned my gaze; I was the professional, I should know. Taking a deep breath, I turned back to Hugo, the knot in my stomach tightening.
“The president needs me, you wouldn’t want to disappoint the president would you?”
“No don’t go! The president’s a asshole!” Hugo shouted before bursting into quiet tears.
“Hugo!” Ms. Sandy exclaimed, holding back a grin and glancing at her husband, who shrugged smugly. I couldn’t help but smile myself as the tentacles around my gut loosened.
“That’s what Daddy says, and the president is mean to people. He says bad things all the time!” There’s no arguing with a four-year-old’s logic. Ms. Sandy crouched down and squeezed Hugo tightly to her chest.
“That’s right, okay. Where do you think Winston should go then?” Ms. Sandy asked. Hugo raised his eyes over his mother’s shoulder and turned to look at me. His eyes like glossy brown globes in his tiny skull. “Should he help Spiderman?” Hugo nodded his head, a small smile creeping across his face and his eyes drying up. He looked exactly like Vincent from there, all eyes and a mother’s shoulder. The room wavered before me, I needed a drink.
I smiled at him, “I’ll see what I can-” I held up a finger and took my phone out of my pocket, shifting my weight onto my left arm and knees. “Hello? Spiderman? Yes, this is Winston. No way, with you? Fight all the bad guys? All right, if you say so. See you soon, bye!” I dropped my mouth wide open and put my phone back in my pocket. I looked at Hugo, wide eyed. “Can you believe that? Spiderman just called me and asked me to fight all the bad guys!” Hugo grinned and walked over to me. He began to pet my head.
“All right, say one last goodbye to Winston, Hugo. It sounds like he’s got to go!” Mr. Sandy said. “Then go wash up, it’s almost dinner time.”
Hugo smiled as he stroked my head, watching his hands run through my hair. I gazed into the little boys’ brown eyes. There was so much trust there, and love too, he was proud of his friend. He leaned his head close into my ear, his little hands still tickling my scalp, disorganizing my hair. He whispered, “I love you Winny, be a good dog.” then kissed me on the cheek. My knotted stomach loosened some more, almost feeling free of the tentacles when he giggled, “Say hi to Spidee Man.”
“There you go Hugo! Now go wash your hands, it’s your dad and my turn to say bye to Winston!” Ms. Sandy said. Hugo nodded and ran out of the room, covering the inside of the house with imaginary spider webs as he went. Ms. Sandy watched him go, when he had gotten beyond ear shot she turned back to me. “Thanks so much, we’d heard such great things about you, glad you could make it out for our little Hugo. It was a great birthday present.” She grinned, holding out a one-hundred-dollar bill. Her husband smiled at me, a hand on her shoulder. I nodded and took the bill, giving them a little half smile. I didn’t do birthday parties anymore, but I didn’t mind being a present. It was too hard to make a solid connection with a kid while also being the show.
With Hugo gone the tentacles began to tighten around my stomach again. I waited a moment to see if they had anything more to say, some kind parting words or a little extra tip. They stared at me, their smiles fading the longer I stood there. Once the creases had left their eyes I turned and walked to the door, opening it. I paused again and turned around. I noticed a small head peeking out from behind the doorway to the hall, but the shining eyes vanished the second I saw them. I continued out the door, shutting it behind me.
I almost stumbled down the stairs, grabbing the hand rail to brace myself. The adrenaline from a gig as successful as that one usually kept me steadier, I guess I was a little distracted. My next appointment wasn’t for another hour, plenty of time to control my nerves. I walked to my van and unlocked the door. I opened it up, unzipping the brown onesie, its tail and real dog fur caused me to overheat within five minutes of putting it on. I usually tried to keep the visits relatively short, but something about Hugo had kept me around. I tossed it into the back before climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the van. I looked into the house I’d just left and noticed Hugo staring from the window, a grin on his face, waving at me. I smiled at him, and held up a paw. Good thing I still had the face paint on, with the suit off I might’ve looked like a man. I pulled away and headed for the neighborhood pub.
*
“Another scotch Scott?” Helen asked with a grin. It was the same joke every time, but that didn’t mean I would laugh.
“Yeah.” I said, examining a peanut shell I had squeezed into pieces. I checked my watch, still another thirty minutes before my next gig. “Make it two.”
“You sure you don’t just want a double?” Helen asked good naturedly.
“Make it two.” I repeated, my voice not changing a bit. I’ve found that to be the most off-putting way to repeat a statement. “I’m seeing Vincent tonight.” I said to the peanut shell.
“What?” Helen asked from the other side of the bar. Had it been a Friday instead of a Tuesday night, she wouldn’t have heard a thing, the chatter of the drunk covering my droll up. I ignored her. She handed me the drinks, I tossed them to the back of my throat, one after another, barely feeling the burn that long ago I’d learned to love. Pain breaks up the doldrums of everyday life, it lets you know you’re alive, that you’re feeling something. I paid Helen and stood to go. “Stay safe.” I noticed a hint of worry in her voice. I shrugged and walked out the door.
I got to my van and pulled out my phone. I pressed the home button, lighting up the cracked screen. I blinked a few times as I typed in the code to unlock it, the screen drifted in and out of focus. I opened the calendar and clicked on Tuesday. The next kid was named Marian, mom had contacted me by the name of Gigi Moon. Marian Moon is a stupid name. I groaned and started the car. They were only a few blocks away. I looked into the back of my van, the suits and mattress were just how I’d left them. I mumbled my approval to the world. Nobody ever seemed to steal the shit from my van, but more than once I’d driven off with a stowaway. I’d want to live in my van if I didn’t have a home too. I guess that’s why I did it.
A few stop signs and only one honked horn later I was at the next house. I parked, unbuckled and got into the back of the van. I took out my phone and squinted one eye; the picture of the dog Ms. Moon sent me came into focus. Another brown one, but this one had a few spots and a white paw. As I got dressed my mind started to wander. Did Erika know she had called me? It felt like she’d given up. She had to have known it was me, it’s not like there’s another grown man who dresses up as dead dogs in Seattle. The city is weird, but not that weird. She should’ve called sooner. Why had she waited so long? I needed her the whole time. Maybe the dog distracted her. I’d never met the dog, but she’d gotten it after I’d been kicked out of the house. There’s something off-putting about dressing up as your replacement, whether it’s another person, a dog, or pounds of ice cream. It’s the ultimate concession of defeat, the only way to reenter their life is as something they like more than you. I growled and opened the van’s back door from the inside—a design I appreciated in a creepy van. I hopped out and tumbled to the ground. I stood up, dusted myself off and shut the doors. I growled again, I liked to get into character beforehand and I had a feeling this was a bad dog. I checked my makeup in the back window, I’m not sure why. It looked awful but I couldn’t be bothered to change it. That’s a good thing about dogs, their faces generally look the same. At least they all have noses and shit.
I walked down the Moons’ pathway, it was too long and skinny. If I wavered half a step in either direction the bush that lined it grabbed at my suit. I had already started to sweat in the suit, it felt heavier than usual, like it was trying to pull me to the ground. I growled at the bush as it swallowed me into it. The front door opened and a thick beam of life unveiled me just as I was trying to lift myself out. “I’m not sure what it looks like, but I’m your dead dog.” I said to the silhouette in the doorway. The silhouette stood and watched as the bush refused to help me stand, bending under the pressure of my hands. I tried rolling onto my back, had some success, and rolled out of the bush. I lay face down in the middle of the path, engulfed in the homeowner’s shadow. The rough, cold concrete was welcome against my sweaty face, a coarse pillow in a cruel world. I’d have stayed there all night if I could’ve, but I was a professional. I lifted my head up. “Woof.”
The silhouette turned its head and called into the house, “Marian, a friend is here!” The mention of the kids’ name snapped the dreariness from me long enough to notice she hadn’t greeted me. She clearly didn’t understand how much I could help her daughter. I pushed myself onto all fours and crawled up the stoop into the house.
The living room was well furnished, if a little showy. It was the type of house I’d live in if I had to, but would never feel like home. Marian came running up through the kitchen. “Who is it? Who is it?” She practically bounced all the way in. She stopped when she noticed me at the foot of her mom. She was taller than Hugo, probably around six years old. Not necessarily too old, but once kids get to school they start seeing through some of the bullshit the world tries to throw at them the first few years of their life. She stared at me, her eyebrows creased. She raised a finger and pointed “Who is it?” The scotch wasn’t sitting comfortably in my stomach anymore. I let out a loud burp. Ms. Moon and Marian didn’t even try to hide their disgust. Mindy was not a good dog, I could see where she got it from.
“It’s Mindy, Marian. Come say hi.” Ms. Moon said.
Marian glanced up at her mom doubtfully, “Mindy? Mindy got hit by a car.” She approached me tentatively, reaching out a hand for me to sniff. I sniffed it, thought fuck it, and licked it. Ms. Moon gasped in disgust. Marian immediately withdrew her hand. “This isn’t Mindy! This doesn’t look anything like Mindy!” She started to back away, her eyes locked on mine, searching for the truth.
“I am Mindy!” I protested. “I’m just back here to tell you why I left.”
“Mindy didn’t sound like that, and Mindy didn’t smell like that.” Marian said, sniffing the air.
“You smell like a liquor cabinet.” Ms. Moon reminded me scornfully.
“But I’m back now! Aren’t you happy?” I crawled toward Marian, she’d believe I was Mindy, she just had to be convinced. She started to back away slowly. I smiled at her, but when a dog bares its teeth it’s going to bite. She sensed this, screamed and turned to run away, but I had already covered most of the distance between us. I reached out and grabbed her by the back of her shirt. I let out a low growl and pulled her closer, her socks struggling to find traction on the hardwood floor. Whether she liked it or not Mindy was here, and Mindy was a bad dog. “Look, pet my head, or my back! I bet I feel just like Mindy! Did Mindy like her butt scratched? All dogs like their butts scratched!” I pulled her towards my tail. Marian screamed again and Ms. Moon ran over and slapped my hand. It didn’t hurt, I didn’t let go. She slapped it again and again, Marian started to claw at my hand, my face. She got my eye and that was enough, I let go. I began emitting a low growl. Ms. Moon had started to hit me over the head with a slipper, and she continued even after I’d dropped her daughter.
“Get out! Get out of my house you drunken bastard!” Ms. Moon screamed, trying to cover up Marian’s gasps and wavering breaths as she tried to breathe through her tears. I continued to growl, glaring at them both. I stayed on all fours and backed out the door, Ms. Moon beat me all the way there.
“Mindy’s a shitty dog, and your name sucks.” I said as the door closed in my face. My heartbeat throbbed in my head, the tentacles around my stomach tightened with each beat, my stomach threatened to burst. My blood was boiling, not just from the heat of my suit. My jaw was clenched so tight I didn’t need to squint to see clearly. I walked back to the van, got in and closed the door. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, letting my body loosen. In over a decade I’d never lost control to that extent. Sure, there was a misstep here and there, but I’d never felt the fear in the room that Marian had so clearly felt. I grimaced, it was a bummer, it wasn’t professional, but every dog has its day—that one just wasn’t Mindy’s. I needed another drink. I drove back to the pub.
“Another Scotch Scott?” Helen asked with a grin as I walked through the door.
“Shut the fuck up Helen, my name’s Isaiah you fucking know that. Get me some water.”
“Ooh a grumpy Gus!” She exclaimed as she bent down to take out a glass. “You sure look like a bad dog!” I looked down and noticed I hadn’t changed out of my dog suit. “Nothing hotter than a man in uniform.” I sat down at the bar and Helen handed me a glass. I took a sip.
“What the fuck? This is vodka!”
“Nature’s water! Tasty huh?” Helen said with a grin, “Now you’re really heated!” Fuck her, she should learn to read a room.
“Can I get some damn water?”
“You’re gonna have to speak louder silent Stew, and try to enunciate, I can’t understand a word you’re saying.” Helen said, taking the vodka and drinking it herself. “That one’s on you!” I protested, but sitting down had let the world catch up to me, and it wasn’t staying in one place. I took out my phone and squinted at the time, better head to my last gig.
“I should probably sober up before I go.” I said to her.
“Here, drink some water and take some fries, you sound like a lawnmower fighting a loud baby. You’re incoherent at best.” She handed me a pint of water and an order of fries she’d been picking at. “Coherent sounds like a hard place to communicate in. Whenever you’re there you don’t make sense to anyone.” She chuckled and shook her head. I frowned. I got it, in coherent, like it’s a place. Fuck off Helen.
I flipped Helen off and chugged the water, she fist-bumped me, I guess I didn’t get the bird up through the paw. I went to stand but a powerful earthquake struck just the floor I was on. I steadied myself against the bar, snagged a few more fries, and turned to leave.
“You’re not driving are you Isaiah?” Helen asked. I nodded. “Oh no, you can’t do this, give me your keys. Wait a little bit. You can wait.” I waved her away and walked out the door. She followed me out the door, grabbing me just as I walked over the welcome mat, but I pushed her away. She tumbled to the ground, I stumbled into the bush that lined the parking lot. I sat there and frowned, as did she. “Isaiah how drunk are you?”
I didn’t normally drink on the job. I learned over a decade ago, when I was first starting out, that the suit dehydrates you, making alcohol much more potent. It could be fun, but I have a high standard of professionalism. “I’ve just got one more gig, let me go.”
Helen stood up, putting her hands in the air. “I’m not holding on to you, but stay, just one more drink of water, and why don’t you take that costume off?” I growled at her and looked down, the suit was snagged on the bush. I growled at the bush and with lidded eyes unzipped Mindy. As I stepped out, Helen stepped up to me with a cup of water. She rubbed my back. “You had me scared buddy, you can’t be doing stuff like that.” I nodded and tilted my head back, letting the icy water fill up my mouth then splash onto my face and roll down my chest. I blinked heavily, taking a few more gulps to empty the clear plastic cup. A wave of forced sobriety hit me and I rubbed my face with both hands, dropping the cup on the ground. The mental state wouldn’t last, but it was a sign I was coming back.
“Thanks Helen, you have a breath mint?”
*
I sat in my van, taking deep breaths with my eyes closed. I was running about thirty minutes late, but it was worth it to sober up a bit more. The breath mint wasn’t strong enough so I brushed my teeth a few times, even sucked on a penny for a minute or two. I unlocked my phone, the screen came in focus. I wasn’t sober yet, but I was passable. The dog was named Mitzy. I smiled; that name’s cute as fuck, bummer it’s dead. That’s the cool thing about names, they’re reusable; which happens to be the pity about humans, they’re not. I took one last deep breath. This was going to be good, I could be Mitzy. Mitzy could be me.
*
“Why are you going now?” The little boy asked from behind his mother’s legs. I looked up at her. She smiled at me but it didn’t reach her eyes. Her eyes were full of water. I wished I could lick them before they freed themselves, lick them all so she’d never cry again. I blinked, scrunched my face; that was the scotch talking, I’m a professional. I returned my gaze to the little boy, gazing into his beautiful brown eyes.
“Well Vincent, I need to go upstate, there’s a very important trial that needs my help. It starts tomorrow.”
“Oh.” Vincent said, rubbing his cheek against his mother’s upper thigh. “What does that mean?” Vincent asked, looking up at his guardian.
“It means Mitzy’s a very smart dog, a lawyer dog.”
“Public defender.” I interjected.
“Yes, which means he helps people who need the most help, isn’t that great? Doesn’t that make sense why he has to go? Why don’t you go pet him one last time?”
Vincent gazed at me with the right side of his face, he moved his hand from around his mom’s legs to in front of his mouth. He took a step towards me, I smiled. He stared at me and paused, unsure. I was struck by his eyes again, they were the same eyes that stared back at me when I checked my makeup in my van window, the ones I saw when I had a moment to myself. He couldn’t be older than five, but he’d grown so much in the two years I hadn’t seen him. It wasn’t my choice of course, but I did what was requested of me. I understood I’d fucked up. I understood the consequences. I was a grown man even when I was in a dog costume. I wasn’t sure if Vincent could tell that too, but he didn’t seem to mind. He placed his hand on my head, this suit was complete with a hood and ears, only the best for my little guy. He scratched my head, I smiled up at Erika. Tears streaked down my face.
“Vincent, want a hug?” I asked. Vincent nodded. Smiling, I sat back onto my knees, a little off balance, and opened my arms. He walked closer and put his tiny arms around my chest, his fingers barely touching each other. The stomach finally broke free, the tentacles retracted into nothingness, replaced with a warm fuzz. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply, engulfing myself in the smell and touch of Vincent. He smelled like spilled cereal and crayons, his touch was soft, delicate. He didn’t know what he was missing, but I did. I smiled, exhaling and opening my eyes. I turned my head and kissed him on the cheek. I held him a moment longer, not wanting to let him return to a world without his father. I looked up at his Mom, tears streamed down her cheeks as well. She held one arm up over her face, biting on her sweater sleeve.
“I can come back if you’d like me to. What do you think?” I said, looking at Vincent. I glanced up at Erika. She closed her eyes. Some answers you don’t need to hear, especially when they’re responding to the hard questions.
“No, you have to help people,” her voice muffled by her hand. “We have to share Mitzy, right Vin?” Vincent nodded at the ground. “That’s right, all right, time to go to bed. Go change into jammies and I’ll be there soon.”
Vincent nodded. “Bye Mitzy, I love you.” He said without turning around. He wiped his arm across his face as he left the room. I stood up, Erika held out a hundred. I pushed it back into her hands.
“I can come back if you’d like me to.” I said, putting my hands around her waist.
She backed away, “Do you still drink?” I shrugged and looked away. “Isaiah, do you still drink?”
“I have since you last saw me, yes.” I said, with forced calm, wishing this wasn’t the conversation we had to have.
“You can’t be in the house if you drink.” She said.
“I know that, Erika, and I haven’t.” I said, closing my eyes, inhaling deeply. My cheeks started to warm against my will. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“You can’t be in the house if you drink.” She repeated. I felt the tentacles start to crawl around my stomach again. I wanted to throw up, but that would show her just how recently I’d broken my promise.
“Soon, Erika, I’ll be back soon.”
“I hope so” she said, another streak running down her cheek. She nodded, and looked into my eyes. “I really hope so.”
*
I didn’t need to go far, just far enough to not be creepy. I drove the car slowly a few blocks then parked in front of a nice big tree. I turned the car off and climbed into the back and onto my mattress. I gazed at the suits surrounding me. I wasn’t alone, I was surrounded by hundreds of dogs, beloved parts of the family that were just waiting to be alive one last time. I heard a knock on my van’s back doors. Was it Erika? Did she have a change of heart? Was she finally willing to help me instead of turning me away? I shifted onto my knees and shoved one of the doors open. A bright beam of light shone through it, blinding me. I held my hand up to block it, squinting, trying to make out the source. I heard a beep and a voice clearly not directed at me.
“Yes, we’ve found the drunk and disorderly dead dog man, taking him in now.”
He reached in and pulled me out of bed. I fell onto the concrete, I didn’t feel like resisting. I was a good dog, I was always a good dog. The cool concrete felt smooth, soft even. My arm was twisted to an unnerving angle and forced uncomfortably behind my back. I smiled and inhaled deeply letting the road receive my body, enjoying its human touch.