My Brother's Keeper

by JT Pearson

  Part 4

  Things were great for the first two days and then Elaine came over. In all the stress and confusion I’d completely forgotten to return her phone messages. When she came through the door Franklin leapt to her, wagging his tail, licking her everywhere he could. She was flattered by the affection. He kept turning back to me and licking me before returning to her, just genuinely happy to be around the two of us again. She examined the injury to his ear. I hadn’t even prepared an explanation for her.

  “You got a dog, Charles? Why on earth did you get a dog? You don’t care for animals.”

  “I care for him.”

  “I swear, Charles, your brother’s death is certainly weighing on your sanity.” She rubbed his head and stared at his eyes. For a moment I feared that she recognized him. “What’s his name, Charles?” she asked me.

  “I don’t know,” I replied nervously. “I haven’t decided yet. I was thinking of naming him Franklin, after my brother.”

  He barked twice loudly.

  She looked at me with what bordered on disgust and said, “You can’t name him after your brother, Charles. I know you miss your brother but that’s just too weird.”

  “Perhaps I’ll have to think about it some more,” I told her.

  “Well, you better come up with a name for him soon because leaving a pet without a name is bad luck.”

  “Not to mention, it makes it pretty hard to call him.” I thought the comment witty, but she ignored it. She never had much of a sense of humor.

  Each time I returned from the kitchen with refreshments he had his face nuzzling her arms and legs. She kept laughing and playfully fighting him off but I found myself growing very angry.

  The three of us went out on the balcony. It was getting cold outside so I built a fire in the fireplace. I had to work the ashes with the poker several times in order to get the logs to stay lit. We all sat on the couch and he nestled right up against Elaine. She rubbed him behind the ears and when he turned over on his back she rubbed his stomach. We were watching True Grit, the original. I looked away from John Wayne and over at Franklin and what I saw shocked me. It was the look in his eyes. The look of lust.

  “Elaine, stop that!” I pointed at him. “Look at his face!”

  His expression changed immediately to one of embarrassment, and he looked hurt.

  She was startled by my sudden outburst and asked, “What is wrong with you, Charles?”

  I tried not to seem completely insane. “He was – he was – just acting weird,” I told her.

  “Just acting weird?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I replied, not knowing what else to say about the matter.

  “I’ll tell you who’s acting weird, Charles. You scared me. You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that…do you mind if he doesn’t sit right up against you like that? Can you please stop stroking him?” I asked cautiously.

  “What? Why?”

  “Just because, okay?” I tried ineffectively.

  “Are you actually jealous of a dog, Charles?” she asked me.

  I threw my hands up and told her. “I don’t know what I’m thinking. I guess I’m just tired.”

  The mood took a turn for the better when she surprised me by saying, “I find your jealousy very weird but a little sexy, Charles. Maybe we should retire to the bedroom and leave him here to watch TV.”

  He suddenly got up on his haunches and started to growl at her, baring his teeth. He had originally believed that I had arranged for Elaine to come so that he could see her. Now, the relationship I had with Elaine was suddenly very clear to him.

  “Oh my!” She said, sliding away from him. “Get him away from me, Charles!”

  I ran to the fireplace and grabbed the poker. Franklin was slowly advancing on Elaine with his teeth bared. I attempted to back him off with the poker. He snapped at my hands but I continued to advance, moving him away from us.

  “Throw him off. Charles!” Elaine screamed at me in a panic.

  “Off the balcony?” I asked. I was mortified that she would even suggest such a thing.

  There was a small utility shed in the corner of the balcony hidden behind a rubber tree plant. I used it to house items that I wanted to protect against inclement weather. I opened the door and threatened him with the poker until he went in.

  “You should call the pound, Charles, and have someone take him away right now! That thing is dangerous!” She sat down. She was shaking and her breathing was uneasy. After a couple of minutes she managed to catch her breath. “To think that thing was sitting right up against me. Just imagine if it had attacked me then.” She shuddered. “Where did you say you got that thing?”

  “From a very dear friend,” I told her.

  “You really should see if he can take it back.”

  “I’m afraid that’s impossible. He unfortunately passed on not too long ago,” I lied.

  I said good night to Elaine and walked her out to her car. When I got back into the house I grabbed the poker and approached the utility shed. What I heard on the other side broke my heart. I could hear him crying again. After a few moments I slowly opened the door. I needed to console him and come clean about the indecent relationship that I’d been having behind his back. The second the door was open more than a foot he lunged at me, knocking me down, and got his teeth on my neck. I managed to get one of my hands into his mouth before he was able to clamp down. Grabbing the poker once again, which had fallen from my hand when he had attacked, I hit him repeatedly along his side and the top of his head until he was bleeding all over me. His eyes rolled up and he slumped from me to the floor. I pulled my hand from his mouth and tried to work my fingers. He’d done damage to my arm but the tendons were intact. The image of him lying on the ground, not moving, was almost too much for me. I cried and begged God to make him live. The police arrived twenty minutes after I’d called them. A report was filed and then they prepared to take Franklin with them.

  “Where are you going to take him?” I asked them.

  “For now, we’ll bring him to the animal shelter where a vet will see if he can patch him up unless you want your dog put down. I assumed that you didn’t because you said he never behaves like this and that an unusual situation had set him off. An animal expert will have to weigh in on whether it’s safe to let the animal live but when it’s an altercation with the pet and the owner it’s generally their say.”

  After I returned from the hospital I attempted to sleep but I wept off and on that night, barely getting any rest. I tried to reason that the chimera wasn’t my brother but I knew differently. I knew the truth. I couldn’t help thinking back about the conversation I had with Dr. Kripps - about where the soul goes when creating a new being with cells from someone who’d already lived. Maybe he never gave it much consideration because he didn’t believe in souls.

  Things went pretty much as the officer had described and the next day I was called down to the shelter to make a decision. Franklin laid on one of the tables, his head bandaged up, sedated.

  “What do you want to do?” the vet asked me. She was young, green eyed, attractive, compassionate, with dark hair and a cleft chin. She asked the question but her green eyes pled with me to save him. I approached Franklin and studied his face. With his eyes closed he just looked like a dog.

  I put my hand on his shoulder and said, “Franklin.”

  “I beg your pardon.”

  “Franklin. That’s his name. I’m taking him home.”

  I brought Franklin home. For the next couple of weeks I nursed Franklin back to health. Elaine and I fought over Franklin daily. She wanted him gone, wanted him put down. Often she lingered near his bed and I found myself fearing that she would interfere with his recovery. After a while, although still heavily bandaged, Franklin could wobble his way around the apartment. One of his eyes was permanently destroyed, causing it to point up and off to the side, a white glaze covering it. The sight of it caused
me unspeakable guilt.

  Time passed and I was pleased with how Franklin’s recovery was coming along. Elaine managed to become tolerant of him but insisted that he still frightened her and demanded that she never have to be left alone with him. She was also disgusted by the fact that I was still calling him Franklin.

  One day I heard a commotion coming from the balcony. Franklin had Elaine backed up near the edge of the rail and she was defending herself with the poker. This was the second transgression that I wrote of at the beginning of this journal entry.

  She screamed at me, “Throw him off! Throw him off the balcony, Charles! Do it!”

  Franklin looked back at me, teeth bared, but his one good eye looked as though he were pleading for understanding.