These Are The Stories Part III
A Short Story by Doug Dean
Written using the suggestion "Tan"
Originally featured on 07-07-2009
As part of our series "The Summer of Our Hopes and Fears"

 

A toilet flushed and the narrator emerged from the lavatory, wiped his brow with a red towel and began again.

 

***

 

The most popular ladies at Pinewood Retirement Villa were called The Lady Scoundrels. They were known for their raucous behavior, getting fresh with the hot male nurses, and loud, booze-and-coke-fueled Bridge all-nighters.

“So why do you look?” asked Estelle. “I know you look.”

“Alright, fine. I look.” admitted Bea. “And I don’t know why, you bitch.”

“Maybe you’re afraid the shape’ll be different since you and Herb started doing anal,” Estelle said, carving up a line with her bus pass.

“I don’t think that’s a concern,” said Bea. “The guy’s got geezer dick, no girth.”

“Maybe you’re afraid there’ll be blood in it-” said Estelle, rolling up a dollar grinning. “…because of doing anal with Herb.”

“I regret telling you that, you bitch!” said Bea grinning. “And it’s not because I’m afraid there’ll be blood in it.”

“Well there may as well be blood in it!” interjected Rue, wearing only her shimmery purple robe with a male nurse in tow. It was the kind of robe a boxer might wear. And all The Lady Scoundrels knew that Rue fought like a boxer in the bedroom. The nurse looked as though he had just gone ten rounds with the champ. Rue turned and dismissed him, “Now go on and clock out, Beefcake—you’ve done your duty for today.” The nurse nodded, wiped the sweat from his brow, and limped out of the room.

“Shit, Rue!” said Bea. “You got on that new nurse already! No flies on you!”

“That’s right! Estelle, take a memo! It’s to Pinewood Human Resources Department. ‘Hot male nurses, you can hire ‘em, but I’ll fuck them on their first day. No questions asked.’ You got that Estelle?” Rue grinned. “So like I was saying—there might as well be blood in that shit of yours, Bea! Cause the word’s out about the anal, blood in the water—you could say, blood in the toilet water—you could also say, and now the sharks are gonna want more blood. Some of these geezers, like old Al, they’ve never stuck their no-girth geezer dicks in a lady’s ass before,” Rue looked at them grinning, “let alone the ass of a Lady Scoundrel!”

Bea keeled over laughing. Estelle blasted a line, then joined in with a giggle, swallowing the drip.

“Hold on,” said Estelle. “Now we were getting somewhere before you got here Rue.”

“Oh?” said Rue.

“Yeah. Bea looks into the toilet after she does her Lady business.”

“Yeah, so does everyone. So?” said Rue.

“No. I don’t think everyone does.” said Bea. “Do you?”

Estelle paused. Silence hung. “Why would I look?” said Estelle. “I know what’s in there.”

“She looks. Don’t try to dodge it Estelle, I’ve got your number on this one, bitch!”

The Lady Scoundrels turned to find Betty leaning on the doorway. A cacophony of laughter and excitement rose from the Lady Scoundrels to greet her.

Betty continued, walking into the room, “You look for the same reason that parent’s look at everything their kids do, the same reason that they keep their teeth for thirty years until the grown-up kid throws them away. Whatever’s in that bowl came out of you, and went through you, and we’re all infinitely fascinated with ourselves. From the shit that comes out of our mouths to the poo that drops out of our asses.” Betty shot Bea a look. “Whatever shape it may be.”

***

 

Gibson skidded the mud-caked jeep to a halt, almost sending the surfboards flying out of their harnesses.

“Aye mate! Easy on those stops,” cried Bodster, his tanned, cut body glistening and blond hair waving.

“Aye,” yelled Gibson, parting his luscious blond mane behind his ears. “I think we found it, mate.”

Bodster looked up and started cackling joyously. “Yeah, it would appear so, mate! It would appear so!!”

Gibson and Bodster leapt from the jeep and beheld the Fountain of Youth. Then they began dancing around the jeep and singing an Australian folk song.

“How do we dance while the world is turning!?!” screamed Bodster.

“How do we sleep while our beds are burning!?!” cried Gibson.

They were young and Australian and tan and in Ecuador and they would remain so until the final wave crashed.

The time had come to say ‘fair’s fair.’

 

***

 

Diggy’s masters left this morning in a hurry, forgetting to feed Diggy.

Diggy scratched behind his ear using his hind paw, to be sure. His ear was still there. So was his paw. But he could no longer smell them. He could no longer smell anything.

What was the last thing that he smelled, Diggy wondered.

He was in Kitchen yesterday and smelled his food. Then the window broke. Then there was a guy sticking his arm through. He wasn’t pack, and smelled like fear—Diggy remembered that smell. Maybe that was the last thing.

Then, he was barking. Diggy was jumping at the door. The man was inside and kicked Diggy on his side. Diggy slid across the floor and then charged back at the man. At his legs. Diggy biting. The man yelling out. He recognized two words: “Bad Dog.”

Then the man was hitting him hard. He pulled something out of his second skin. Skunk! No, the man! Diggy’s face and eyes burned. He sprayed Diggy’s face.

Diggy couldn’t see. Diggy’s teeth were in the man’s leg. Diggy tasted blood. Diggy bit harder. The man was on the floor, Diggy still biting his leg. Blood dripped down Diggy’s snout, tears out of his eyes. The man started hitting Diggy over the head. Diggy keep biting, but the man was spraying again. Diggy let go. Diggy growled. Diggy couldn’t see the man, couldn’t smell the man, didn’t know where he was. Diggy kept looking. He heard the door slam. The man was gone.

Diggy tried to wipe his tears away. Everything hurt. His face biting itself. He could see shapes. He rolled over on his side and tried to sleep.

 

That was yesterday, Diggy thought. The last thing that Diggy smelled was the man’s fear. And he would remember it.

Then Diggy decided that he had given Fear enough.

Diggy trotted up into the living room. He trotted up to his favorite couch. Diggy wanted to lay on it. But he couldn’t because John, a young man from their pack was laying on it. Diggy lifted his leg and Go Pee’d. John woke up.

“Hey!! Diggy!! Bad Dog!!” said John.

Diggy growled and leapt up onto couch, stood over John and barked.

He barked until John ran away into his own den.

Diggy lay down on the couch, rolling himself into it, scratching his back on it. This was a thrill for Diggy, so he licked his penis.

Then Diggy realized that he was hungry. The sun was still out and there wouldn’t be food for a long time.

Diggy trotted back into John’s den. He looked at John. John was afraid. Diggy wanted John to give him food or Treat. He barked at John. But John just hid under his covers. Diggy exhaled as he trotted out of John’s den, heading towards Kitchen. Diggy knew where the food was. It was in the food den. He pulled open the door to the food den with his paw and then bit the bag of food and pulled it out. Some poured out onto the floor. Diggy began eating. Diggy looked outside. The sun was still out, and he was eating. This was a thrill for Diggy, so he walked around Kitchen, peeing.

Diggy felt full. He drank some water from his Water. Then Diggy trotted up to the ledge near Window. He wasn’t allowed up there. He looked back at John’s den and then leapt up onto the ledge knocking things over. With his nose, he pushed open Window. Diggy leapt out Window to Outside.

Then Diggy was running. He ran around in Outside sniffing, but still couldn’t smell anything. This made Diggy sad. He lay down for a while, looking at the bushes and the Water spray. Then Diggy ran. He ran around in circles, chasing his tail, not for any reason except that he was Outside and the sun was still shining and John couldn’t stop him. No one could.

Then Diggy began to want more. Diggy ran to the edge of Outside. He pawed at the edge of Outside and it opened. Diggy didn’t believe his eyes. It was Walk! It was Walk, right on the edge of Outside! Diggy was alone and he was about to go to Walk without Leash or anyone from the pack. This thrilled Diggy, and he jumped up in the air. Then he ran out into Walk.

He stopped and sniffed at the familiar places out of habit now. He took his time, not needing to keep up with Heel. He ran along the grass and was tempted to go out into Street, but something stopped him. He was afraid of Street. So Diggy decided after standing at the edge of Walk for a bit, not to go out into Street but to just fully enjoy Walk.

He wasn’t too far into Walk when he saw his old acquaintance, Yellow Dog From Another Pack. Yellow Dog From Another Pack was standing at the edge of his pack’s Outside and pawed at the edge of it but couldn’t get out. Diggy ran up to edge and pretended to sniff Yellow Dog From Another Pack’s face while letting Yellow Dog From Another Pack sniff his. It was an act. Diggy felt embarrassed by it, the pretense. Diggy abhorred pretense. So Diggy ran around a little on the grass in front of Yellow Dog From Another Pack’s pack’s grass and then Diggy said a polite goodbye to Yellow Dog From Another Pack by whining as if he wanted Yellow Dog From Another Pack to join him on his walk. In actuality, he was happy to leave the presumptuous Yellow Dog From Another Pack exactly where he was.

Without his sense of smell, Walk was very different. Not as familiar. Diggy found he was trotting rather than running and often unsure of where he was.

Should he go back to the den, Diggy wondered. Not yet, he decided.

Diggy came to a den that he had always admired. The grass was tall and the bushes were luscious and the pack kept their Car right on the grass. Inside looked comfortable so Diggy jumped in and lay down for a while. It wasn’t as comfortable as it looked. Diggy for the first time was glad he couldn’t smell. So he jumped out.

Then Diggy remembered Corky. Corky was a gorgeous petite little bitch that he often ran into in Walk. Diggy decided that he wanted to find Corky and hump her. He deserved to do this, Diggy thought. He wasn’t a Bad Dog. He was a Good Dog and deserved to hump Corky. He would hump her as long as she let him and then maybe head home to get a Treat and sit on the couch. If he had to, he might try to Go Poop on John, he thought, just to see what John would do.

It was starting to get dark.

Diggy normally ran into Corky near Park. Park! Diggy loved Park! Diggy start running towards Park. He figured that even if Corky wasn’t there he would be able to hump one or many of the other gorgeous little bitches that hung around Park. Diggy thought of humping Corky at Park and this thrilled him, so he began drooling. Diggy then licked his penis.

Then he ran as fast as he could towards Park. Diggy liked running a lot. It was like one of his favorite things to do.

Diggy stopped. Diggy looked all around but he couldn’t see Park. He tried to remember the way by the order of smells on the way to park. The last thing before Park was the flowers in front of the Bone colored house that smelled like all his friends from the neighborhood.

Diggy started running again. Then he saw it, the Bone colored house, and there was Park! Diggy ran as fast as he could. The bitches!

There were so many bitches at Park! Diggy sprinted into the group of them. A couple he recognized, like Snicky and Crackers, and he thought of humping them, but he had humped them before and wanted to either hump Corky or bitches he’d never humped. Corky wasn’t there. So Diggy ran up to a nice little white pooch and started humping her until someone from her pack started yelling and then he ran over to a little brown one and humped her.

There were a whole pack’s worth of bitches at Park and he would hump them all, Diggy decided, still humping the little brown one.

He deserved this. There was no denying it. Diggy finally felt entitled.

 

Read More By Doug Dean

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Portland Fiction Project

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