Inflictions
Page 7
“I’ll barf on your upholstery.”
“What do you expect, filet mignon?”
“Okay!”
“It wasn’t an offer.”
“I’d settle for a hamburger or two from Burger King.”
“I guess I could swing that.”
“Thank you.”
“It’ll cost you some explanations. After we eat, we’re going to have a good long talk.”
“Keep it up and I’ll bite you!” Max said with an exasperated huff.
“Yeah? And I’ll tell the vet you’re in to get neutered.”
“Uh, about that vet thing, I don’t really need a vet. I’m a fast healer. My leg feels a lot better.”
“Really?” Kelly looked in the rearview. “I bet they’d get a kick out of a talking dog.”
“Yeah, try to convince them of that.”
“Snip!” said Kelley.
“All right, already! You got me. I’ll talk.”
5
“Oh my God!” gasped Kelly. She waved her hand briskly under her nose and toggled the rear window down.
“Sorry,” said Max. “The onion rings do it to me every time.”
“Well you could have warned me!”
“I tried to keep it to the back of the truck. Besides, we dogs have a reputation to maintain.”
“Well maintain it elsewhere,” Kelly said. She thought she heard stifled laughter. “Typical male,” she complained.
Max belched.
Kelly turned into a barely distinguishable dirt drive that was long overdue for fill. The rutted tree-lined path diminished into blackness ahead of them, the headlights barely penetrating the inky darkness as the Bronco bounded along. Crickets chirruped in multitude, their symphony entering the truck from all sides, as did a healthy number of mosquitoes. Kelly closed the windows.
“We’re on the road to nowhere …” Max started singing the popular Talking Heads tune.
“Oh great, he sings.”
“You’re jealous.”
“Hardly,” said Kelly.
A quarter mile into the forest, the pathway curved right, opening to view an attractive red cottage. Kelly parked and went to the read of the truck and opened the gate. Max leapt to the ground.
“Hansel! Gretel! Vere are you!” he called in a credible accent.
“Do you always act like this?” Kelly asked, moving to the rear of the vehicle.
“Only when I’m awake.”
“Great.” Kelly tugged two suitcases from the truck, swung the gate shut, and led Max to the well-kept cottage. “It’s my parent’s,” she explained, setting the suitcases down on the doorstep.
Max looked at the luggage. “Must be cramped in there.”
Kelly huffed, “It’s their cabin.” She unlocked the door, grabbed the luggage, and clumsily entered the cabin.
“Hey, be careful with Mom and Dad!” Max said. He sneezed and followed her inside.
“I’m starting to appreciate the logic behind muzzles.” She flipped on the light switch, delivering them both into momentary blindness.
“Ohhhh Ahhhhcchiieee, it’s byooootifuulll,” Max’s voice echoed. “I just love Contemporary Cabin.”
“I love this place,” Kelly murmured.
The living room smelled of loneliness and longed for the warmth of the living, whose temporary absence created a chill emanating from more than the knotty-pine walls and the blue and gray linoleum floor. Memories greeted Kelly from every corner—happy, nostalgic flashes, snapshots of good times, untainted by heartbreak or other misfortune. It was the perfect escape. A chair, sofa, and rocker sat shrouded in white dust covers, like squat ghosts watching the blank television screen. A natural gas heater filled one corner of the room, begging to be lit. Kelly bent over to put down the luggage.
“Nice little spread,” Max said appreciatively from close behind her.
“I beg your pardon?” Kelly asked accusingly, pinning the dog with a glare.
“The cottage, fat-ass.”
“Fat-ass! I’ll have you know many a better animal than you has admired my ass. I’ve been told repeatedly that I have a very shapely bottom.”
“Okay, agreed. Don’t pop a vessel.”
“Thank you,” Kelly said and proceeded to the kitchen.
The first thing her father did when they would come here was to light the pilot on the oven and stove. She retrieved a box of wooden matches from a small cabinet over the stove and proceeded to light the pilots. The four top burners lit easily, but lighting the oven pilot proved to be about as easy as swallowing a bowling ball. Kelly was aware of Max watching her struggle with the stubborn appliance.
“We’ll have plenty of kindling if the need should arise,” he said, regarding the ever-growing pile of expired matches.
“Are dog’s flammable?”
“I would imagine not … if you’re lighting them.”
Kelly labored a while longer. “There! It’s lit!” She said finally, and stuck her tongue out at Max.
“Thanks for the offer but it’s not preening time yet.”
“Charming.” Kelly rose from the floor with an exaggerated groan.
“How about a drink?” asked Max.
“Toilet’s in there.” Kelly pointed toward a closed door.
“Very funny, Bozo. Does it serve Coors?” he asked. He sneezed and shook his head. “Hey, mind if I check the shanty out?”
“Have a blast. I have to unpack my luggage anyway.” Kelly watched Max walk into the kitchen, his nails clicking on the linoleum. With a shake of her head and a smile, Kelly picked up her luggage and went into the bedroom feeling as if she’d just entered the Twilight Zone.
“Aw, yuck!” Max groaned from in the kitchen.
“What’s wrong now?” asked Kelly.
“Who drinks Black Label?”
“My father! How’d you get into the refrigerator?”
“The door, how else? I was hoping I’d find some beer,” Max said.
“Well, you did.”
“That’s not beer, that’s maggot piss!” complained the dog as he reclined near the couch. “Your father is a sick man. I’d rather drink out of the toilet.”
“You can do that, too.”
“You’re heartless!”
6
Kelly emerged from the bathroom, her skin blotchy and red from the heat of the long shower. She ran the water as close to scalding as she could stand to cleanse herself of yesterday. She wanted to boil Peter and Jake away like the germs they were and melt yesterday completely from her life, but it took too long, the water turned cold, and her thoughts turned sour. She entered the living room wearing a turquoise, floor-length robe, a towel turban, and a bad attitude. She turned on the television, collapsed on the couch and closed her eyes.
“First entrant in the Miss India beauty pageant is Kelly Mahbut Sichee,” Max said, joining her from the kitchen.
“Cute.” Kelly forced a smirk.
“Hey, the Red Sox are on!”
“Who cares?”
“Well, that’s a common assessment … oh-oh, wait a minute!” Max sniffed the air loudly. “My depression alarm just went off. The Cosmic Canine feels an uneasiness; an eerie airiness shall we say.”
“Yeah, we shall say.”
Max went into song again. “Well I guess that’s why they call it the blues …”
Kelly couldn’t help laughing, as much as she wanted to wallow. “Your voice isn’t half bad for a dog,” she said.
“And I’m a good listener, too. Need an ear? I have two.”
“Later,” she said. “Come here.”
Max moved anxiously to the couch. “Are you gonna scratch my rump?” he asked hopefully.
“I think not.”
“Why not? Scientific studies have proved patting a pet is good for your health and prevents depression.”
“I have heard that,” said Kelly.
“Really? I mean … of course! So you’re gonna scratch my rump?”
“How about if
I scratch your head while you tell me everything.”
“Very well,” huffed Max. He climbed on the couch and laid his head on her lap. He reveled in the head-scratching for a few minutes, and said, “Doctor Freud, I’m not really a dog.”
“Strange-looking bunny rabbit,” said Kelly.
“I’m serious. I’m a man in a dog’s body.”
“Well that knocks Peter Townsend’s dilemma to hell. Tell me more.”
“I changed myself to resemble a dog. I’m what you would call an alien, though I hate the title. I prefer Extraterrestrial.”
“An alien?” Kelly smiled, waiting for the punch line.
“Extraterrestrial, please. Alien means strange, weird, odd … you know.”
Kelly stared at Max for a long moment and burst into laughter.
“Okay! Point taken!” Max grumbled. “But I mean it. You know E.T., Alf, shazbut, nanu-nanu, and all that shit? A man from another planet.”
Kelly laughed harder.
“What, you believe in a talking dog with shape-shifting teeth, but not aliens?” Max asked, for once sounding serious.
“That’s different,” said Kelly.
“How?”
Settling down somewhat, Kelly contemplated the question. “I don’t know. Okay, let’s say I believe you. What did you look like before you became a dog?”
“You ever see the stuff inside a lava lamp?”
“You looked like that?”
“No. I just think it’s really cool.”
“You’re avoiding the subject,” warned Kelly.
Max jumped from the couch to the floor. “Wait here while I change into something more comfortable,” he told her.
… And he proceeded to change.
Kelly watched in dismay, horrified by the sight of his hind legs thickening and lengthening, seeming to straighten, and then bending in the opposite direction. The fur over the whole body melted inward to form flesh while the chest thinned and the shoulders broadened. The front legs thickened and lengthened like the rear legs, but the toes became five long digits fanned out on the floor. The face sunk inward and the eyes changed from brown to white, and then a small pool of green formed in their centers. When the transformation was complete, Kelly—wide-eyed and terrified—looked at what appeared to be a man kneeling naked on the living room floor. A tall and gangly, big-eared, buck-toothed, and exceptionally goofy-looking man, with a concave-chest and receding hairline, but a man nonetheless.
“Aw, come on! You’re not gonna pull that scared girlie stuff again, are you?” asked Max.
Unabashed by his nudity, Max rose from the floor and sat opposite Kelly at the far end of the couch. He crossed his legs and said in an effeminate voice, “Well, Oprah. You wanted to know what I looked like before the operation, now close your mouth before you get drool all over the couch.”
Kelly closed her mouth and opened it, attempting to say something, but at the moment, words were impossible to form.
He looked at her, raised his chin, and said, “Feast your eyes on a bona fide, one-hundred-percent extraterrestrial life form. Naturally flavored, no preservatives added, member FDIC. Believe it … or not.”
Kelly still stared at him, thinking his previous form was far more appealing. “You’re … you’re a man … sort of,” she said, blinking numbly.
“Yes! Contrary to popular opinion, extraterrestrial beings—at least my kind—are not creeping, scaly, green, brain-sucking, slime-oozing alligators from outer space. Well, maybe I ooze a little, but I can assure you I have never sucked brains in my life. Moreover, at this moment, judging by your expression, I’m not so sure you’d have much to offer if I did. So you can relax, because I am completely harmless and I come with a fifty-thousand light-year warranty.”
“I need a beer,” Kelly said.
“I’ll get it,” Max offered.
“No! I will! You just … sit there. I’ll get it,” Kelly said, and dashed into the kitchen.
Kelly returned with a six pack and a carrying a man’s navy blue robe. She offered the robe to Max.
“I’d prefer to stay like this if you don’t mind.”
Kelly cringed at the thought, but decided to leave it be and just look the other way. She opened a beer and emptied it in one draw, took a few more gulps from a second, and passed one to Max.
“We at Black Label are not responsible for any genetic deformities or psychotic behavior that may occur after drinking our product,” Max said.
“Holy shit,” said Kelly. She stared at the floor for a while, and then sat down and looked at Max. “I have a few questions. Where are you from and why are you here? Are the people on your planet the same as the people here? Where’s your spaceship? Why’d you decide to become a dog?” Kelly punctuated the list with a resounding belch.
“We interrupt this broadcast to report a major earthquake centering in Holderness, New …”
“You’re stalling,” Kelly interrupted.
“Yes. Well, it’s a long story.”
“I have a week.”
“Not that long.”
“Continue.”
“Okay,” he said. He swallowed some more beer and grimaced. “Let me start from the beginning. I am from a planet outside of this solar system, and unknown to anyone born on this planet. I would tell you the name, but it is beyond the mental aptitude of any mere Earthling to comprehend my native tongue, so I won’t waste either of our time.”
“Try me. I want to know.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Did I stutter?”
“Tell me.”
“Fine! I’m from …” He coughed into his hand.
“Where?”
“Ndykhend, okay?”
“You’re from Dickhead?” she asked, a wicked smile forming on her face.
“No! Ndykhend! There’s a distinct difference,” he insisted. “Anyway, the people of my planet …”
“Dickhead.”
“… Are very similar to the people of Earth in looks and build, but we are much thinner. None of the women on our planet have anything comparable to that.” He pointed to Kelly’s breasts. “We are a much more cerebral race. We operate through and have mastered the powers of the mind, whereas Earth people are infinitely less intellectual, but more physical. Earth people are more inclined to use their bodies, hence the musculature.”
Kelly worked on her third beer, and being an alcohol lightweight, she had already been well on her way to wasted halfway into the second one.
“How can we be so similar if we are galaxies apart?” she asked.
“Well, it is believed on …”
“Dickhead,” Kelly giggled.
“… on our planet,” Max said pointedly, “we are the same race, only far more advanced. Our legend has it that many years ago a man and a woman were exiled to Earth from Ndykhend.”
“Why.”
“Racketeering, for all I know. The belief is they committed perverse crimes against our race, though it has never been clear exactly what crimes, or why they were considered so malevolent. Many think they were the first mates to break the gender law.”
“Ah, so there’s gay-bashing on your world, too?” Kelly asked.
“Uh … well, not exactly,” said Max. “But it was a similar prejudice. You see, they were the first to split gender. They created the male/female metamorphosis. Before, we were an asexual race. When it happened, it grossed out a lot of people.”
“What? Bullshit!” Kelly gushed. “You’re screwing with me. How did they procreate before that?”
“We did it alone. There were no mates because we were male and female in the same package. Each of us had what we needed to create life within ourselves … shapeshifters, you know?”
“You had no mates? There was no love?” Kelly asked, feeling a sadness blossoming within her. Love sucks at times. It can confuse you and drive you damned near crazy, but it was still the greatest and most beneficial part of life. She hated to th
ink of life without it.
“Of course! We loved our children, parents, and siblings,” Max explained.
“But no mates? That’s so fucking sad,” said Kelly.
“Hey, don’t get boils over it. That was thousands of years ago. Everyone’s gender-mixing now. Male with females, females with females.”
“Liberal,” said Kelly.
“Yes, but back then, this couple was exiled to another part of our planet because their actions were deemed obscene and unpardonable.
“Oh? Sounds like the Bible,” Kelly said.
“Funny you should say that. As the story goes, at first they tried to help others, and they did manage to convert a lot of people to their way of thinking. They garnered quite a following; it was new, exciting, and a little naughty because it bucked the system. Unfortunately, they were an arrogant couple, and geniuses to the extreme, but their influence grew to monolithic proportions, as did their materialism. Before long they established their own empire, and their compassion became bent by their egos. She wore makeup, and committing teary public displays to promote their bogus empathy. He cavorted with the female workforces, the whole time falsely proclaiming his devotion to The Great Generator.
“Well, when it became too much to bear, the fundamental coalition of The Great Generator called on their army to bring the new kingdom down and punish its followers. They labeled the male Hadim—which means perverse man—and the female Yeaf—which means dirty skank—and banished them here, to Earth. Since then we’ve always had a link with Earth.”
“Hadim and Yeaf?” Kelly mused. “Well, there goes my religion. Are there more of you on Earth?”
“A few, but not many. Most believed Earth has nothing to offer.”
“Yeah, I hear you there,” Kelly agreed. “But, why are you here?”
“To totally annihilate mankind. I’m here to do it right this time.”
Kelly blinked.
“Not convincing, am I?” Max said and shrugged. “I came to Earth because I’m tired of the shmudsas. I came here hoping it would be better. Basically, just to get away … a vacation, if you may.”
“What are shmudsas?”
“Jerks.”
“Ahh,” Kelly said and hiccupped. “You got tired of the jerks there, so you flew here?”