Purpose - The Shaggy Dog Part II

Though he feels a tinge of hunger, he ate well last night and thoughts of perhaps finding a treat or a snack are enough to motivate tonight’s journey. And the city smells pleasant tonight. Just like last time.

Emerging from the alleys the shaggy dog spies the young boy across the street. His upside-down empty hat replaced with a guitar case full of coins and paper, his quivering hands now creating a wonderful sound from the instrument he plays. His voice once a mutter now booms out into the world, and it makes the shaggy dog happy to see how much he’s grown. He wags his tail and plods on.

Leaning against the wall of spray-painted brick is the man with the kind eyes. He stares intently at his phone, fingers working furiously against the screen as the shaggy dog greets him. The man stops and returns the greeting, though his hair is now silver and his face houses a few wrinkles, his age is contrasted in the youthfulness of his smile.

“You’re looking a little plump these days,” the man laughs as he kneels down and pats his head. “I’m glad you’re doing well, take care out there okay?”

The shaggy dog smiles and licks the man’s hands, who pulls them back and wipes them on his pants, laughing. The shaggy dog wags his tail and plods on.

He sniffs the air, searching for a particular scent. Finding it, he wags his tail and breaks out into a run, careful to avoid bumping into anyone, and savvy enough to stay away from the fast-moving things on the street. He stops outside the restaurant window and looks in. Though the food smells wonderful, its the smile of the woman he was searching for, and his tail wags as he sees it. Some time ago she would come and eat alone. Now she sits with another man across from her, and a baby in a high chair in between them. They laugh and share food, trying to keep the small baby from making too much of a mess. Their happiness is his favourite smell. He wags his tail and plods on.

He begins to return home, satisfied with the knowledge that his people are doing well tonight. He turns into his alley and prepares for an early night.

His head whips around, a vile smell assaulting his nose. The shaggy dog lets out a whine, he’s never smelled anything so foul before. Tense and ready, the shaggy dog follows the smell back out onto the street, scanning for its source. He finds it immediately.

It’s not the smell of medicine coming from the man, he’s smelled that before. It’s not even the smell of the sickness he carries or the treatments he has to take that have caused his body to lose its muscle and his hair to fall. Unfortunately, he’s smelled those before too.

It’s the horrible creature whose claws dig into the man’s shoulders, pressing its weight down onto him. It’s the horrible creature whose jaw rests upon the man’s head, whose body billows out like a hideous cloak making it impossible to see the street behind.

The shaggy dog cocks his head as the man approaches, his movements slow and gentle.

“Hey buddy,” the man says, holding out his hand. “Where’d you come from?”

Cautiously, the shaggy dog approaches and sniffs the man’s hand. Underneath the smell of the creature is the scent of a gentle man, one that reminds him of the man with the kind eyes. He smells a man who wants to be happy. Most of all he smells the scent of someone who needs his help.

“You don’t have a collar or anything,” the man says, kneeling down and giving him a scratch behind the ear. “Maybe you’ve got a chip?”

Let’s go, Mr. Shadow spits. It’s just a wretched stray, and besides, you don’t have the time to dote on something other than yourself.

The man pulls his hand back and mulls over the creature’s words for a moment. As he begins to stand the shaggy dog barks.

No!

Mr. Shadow recoils and glares at him. How dare you. He’s already mine, find another!

You’re wrong, the Shaggy Dog says, matching the creature stare for stare. You don’t get to have him, you don’t get to have anyone. Not ever. Not while I’m here.

Look at you all big and brave. Mr. Shadow snipes. Those are bold words for a mongrel, what makes you think you have the right to interfere with me?

Because it’s who I am, the Shaggy Dog fires back. It’s my job. I help people. 

Mr. Shadow’s claws loosen their grip in the man’s shoulders. It’s a fleeting movement but the Shaggy Dog notices.

Don’t be so presumptuous, Mr. Shadow sneers. Do you really think you can help him?  You can smell it can’t you? He’s already gone. There’s nothing you can do about what’s to come.
Maybe, maybe not, the Shaggy Dog responds, his eyes fierce with determination. But I’ve seen people in this city overcome this and more. And while I may not be able to save his body from disease, believe me when I say I can save his soul from you!

The man runs his hands through the Shaggy Dog’s fur, it’s a pleasant feeling. Mr. Shadow’s body shrinks just slightly at first but enough to reveal some of the street behind him.

Who the hell do you think you are? Mr. Shadow rumbles, his voice an inky blackness, but the Shaggy Dog can hear the fear.

I’m Purpose, The Shaggy Dog replies simply. I’m a guardian, a protector, a lifeline, a friend and a family. I’m everything you’re not. And that’s why you’re afraid.

The horrible smell is vanishing now as Mr. Shadow’s claws lift themselves from the man’s shoulders, his grip tenuous. His billowing body shrinks and fades, revealing the rest of the street behind him.

This doesn’t change anything, Mr. Shadow growls. And you certainly haven't won. I’ll fade for a time perhaps, but I’ll always be here, always waiting. I’ll be strong again. I promise.

I’ll always be here too, the Shaggy Dog says. And I’m always strong. I’ll beat you every time. That’s my promise.
 
“Would you like to come home with me?” the man asks, scratching his fur. “We can see if you have a chip tomorrow mourning and if not you can stay with me. We’ll get you a bath and there’s a soft bed you can sleep on, and lot’s of food.”

The shaggy dog smiles and wags his tail. The man stands and together they begin to walk, the shaggy dog looking up at him as the man moves with an ease he didn’t have before. Together they come to a small house with a beaten old door and an unlit porch light.

The man jingles his keys in the lock and holds the door open. “After you,” he says with a smile. The shaggy dog bounds inside, anxious to take in all the new smells and explore his new home.

The man closes the door behind them, and the light on the porch flickers on.

Mr. Shadow

Its name was Mr. Shadow. Or at least, that's what he had always called it. Whether it had a true name or not wasn't really important to him. It was simply Mr. Shadow.

Mr. Shadow; whose claws dug into his shoulders, whose jaw rested atop his head and whose body billowed behind him like some kind of nightmarish cape. Mr. Shadow had always been there, small at first, but as he got older Mr, Shadow got bigger, putting more and more weight on his shoulders, its claws sinking deeper and its body growing ever more consuming, eclipsing more of the light from the outside world.

It was sunset when he left, locking the rough old door behind him and leaving the flickering porch light on, as he always did. His walk had taken him well into the night, the street lights and the sound of his footsteps invading the otherwise quiet solace. Every now and again he'd round a corner, cross a street, or otherwise alter his course but the truth was that he wasn't giving any thought to his direction or destination. He figured he'd simply enjoy the walk while he still could.

Because today had been a very bad day, at the end of a bad month, in the latest of a bad year.

And this time it wasn't Mr. Shadow's fault.

He'd become accustomed to being sick. That wasn't new to him. However it was only now, only today when the doctors began using words like metastasized, inoperable, and a host of others that his mind had tuned out, that he understood just how truly sick he was. The end of a terrible day, at the end of a terrible month, in the last terrible year of his life.

This is what you wanted. Mr. Shadow said, its voice dripping with an ichor that coated his insides black. The choice was taken away from you, now you don't need to find the courage anymore.

"Shut up," he spat. "This was never what I wanted don't be ridiculous."

Of course it was, Mr. Shadow sneered. Maybe not like this particularly, but you were always searching for a way out. Now you get an escape without any of the guilt of escaping.

"That's...that's not true. I never wanted to escape like that. Not like what you mean. I just wanted things to be better, that's all. I just didn't want to have to fight anymore."

No, no of course not. Except I've been here your whole life, long before you got sick. What about all the nights you laid awake with me, listening to me, talking to me. If I'm wrong, then why am I here in the first place? Why have I always been here?

"Because I'm sick, and because I'm tired. I'm always so tired."

Because you have no hope. And don't lie to me, I'll know, I always do.

"Why won't you just leave me alone?"

Mr. Shadow laughed, malice and apathy given sound. I can't leave. You know I can't. I can't because you've never done what's necessary.

"Stop saying that!" He snapped, his voice booming against the cold night sky. Startled by his own outburst, he put his head down and quickened his pace. "I keep telling you that's not what I want...not really."

No no, not really. All the thoughts of pills, or drugs, or a gun, or a razor, just thoughts right? All harmless.

"No... I could never do that... there are too many people that...."

 And that is exactly the point I was trying to make. You've just been given the greatest gift you could have received. See the silver lining, like I do. You've just been given permission to die.

"...You...you're a monster..."

And you're in denial. Accept the powerlessness you've always longed for. Accept the gift that no one will curse your death as selfish, as a weapon meant to harm someone else, as incomprehensible or any other some such reason. Accept that fate has made the decision for you. You get to die like you've always wanted. But now you get to be surrounded by friends and family who never have to know the truth of your mind. Cancer gets to be the villain, not you. And ultimately, that's what has always stopped you. 

Mr. Shadow gripped its claws deeper into his shoulders, its face the abject horror of a smile. He could feel the darkness of the creature growing ever larger, enveloping more and more of the area around him. He had never felt it like this before, the largest and most powerful Mr. Shadow had ever been and it knew it.

You and I, we get what we want. To be free. And all you have to do is accept. Accept, and when the time comes, all that will be required of you is to sleep.

"I...you're wrong I..." His voice was hollow, and he could feel Mr. Shadow's ichor now coming from his own mouth, choking any further attempt at protest.

Mr. Shadow's smile widened. Sleep. And when you do, I won't be there. You'll be alone at last, just like you've always wanted. I will be gone.

He was staring at his own front door now. He wasn't sure exactly how his path had brought him home, or for how long he had been back, but in this moment the beaten old door and flickering porch light had never looked so welcoming.

He stood silent for some time, staring at the light with Mr. Shadow's weight pressing ever stronger on his body, its wretched claws gripping tightly into his flesh, his bones.

"Maybe that...." he said softly as he placed his key in the lock. "Maybe that doesn't sound so bad, in the end."

He closed the door behind him. The light on the porch flickered once, twice, and went out.

One Last Ride

Nights like these, where the air is warm and clean and a faint smell of moisture lingers in the air, these were the nights he liked take it all in. The sounds of a city sleeping floated gently through the open window of his car, and a cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he watched whatever the city displayed from the empty parking lot.

The sound of his passenger door being opened shocked him out of his reverie as a small woman slipped into the seat, a gun in hand.

"Drive," she said, her voice soft but he could feel its chill contrasting with the warm night air.

Where the hell did she come from?

She noticed his hesitation and her eyes flickered towards the pistol. "Please."

Don't start the car, just get out and run.

He felt the engine rumble to life.

Okay now just run.

He shifted the car into gear and pulled onto the road.

What the hell is wrong with you?

"Thank you," she said.

He flicked his cigarette out the window and tried to find his voice.

"Where are we going?" He asked tentatively, the first words he'd had to speak in hours.

She looked puzzled for a second before saying, "Just...around, I guess. Hey can I bum a smoke?"

Tell her to go to hell.

"Sure," he said, handing her his pack, crumpled from his jacket pocket.

Seriously what is wrong with you?

He knew every inch of this city, especially at night. As he drove he flicked his eyes to his uninvited passenger, every time picking out another little detail.

She wasn't much younger than he was, a couple years maybe, and tall. Her hair was cut short and dyed a ridiculous orange colour. Her jacket was heavy and mostly consisted of patches sewn into the fabric. Her boots were well worn and dirty, and a layer of dust covered what could be some very cute freckles on her small face.

Stop that right now.

He noticed the gun, resting on her lap, her hands folded neatly over-top.

She hasn't touched the trigger once.

Her eyes were gazing out the window, focused on the city lights.

Grab the gun, slam on the breaks, punch her in the head, dive roll out of the car, do something!

"I like the billboards in this city," she said softly the chill in her voice now gone, replaced by the warm night air. "They have a kind of artistic vibe to them you know? They feel more like graffiti than corporate advertising."

"Yeah I'd noticed that too," he said.

The worst part is that you actually have.

"You haven't told me where we're going."

"Far away," she said, the icy edge in her voice hinting at a return.

"You're running from something huh?"

"Someone."

Just like you should have run from her.

"Oh."

"I kept noticing him," she said. "First out on the street, then at shops I was at, bars, until finally it got...really bad."

Jesus.

"So far away then." He said.

"Yeah..."

And when you get her there...?

"Are you going to kill me?"

Subtle.

"I'm sorry..." She whispered.

Perfect.

They drove together for some time, the street lights flashing above them. Every so often he would look over and catch her smiling wistfully out the window.

Finally she motioned towards an intersection.

"Take a right here," she said.

"You sure?" He asked. "That'll take us onto the highway."

She knows.

"I know."

Told you.

He did as he was told, making the turn as the city began to get darker and darker, until finally they were out of reach of its gentle light.

All alone now.

"Where are we going?" He asked again. "There's nothing out here for miles."

"I'm not sure," she said. I'll know it when I see it though."

This is bad.

"Um...okay."

I bet there's a grave pre-dug somewhere.

Finally she pointed to a lone tree, growing several yards off the side of the road.

"There," she said. "That's perfect."

She's going to kill you!

"Should I pull over?" He asked, trying to keep the voice from being heard.

"Please."

He pulled the car over and she looked over to him.

"Thanks for the ride," she said with a half smile. "I'm okay from here."

Oh. I understand now.

"What, what do you mean? It's dangerous out here by yourself. At least let me drop you off at a service station or something."

No she got where she's going.

"That's okay, under that tree is perfect," she said getting out of the car. "You should head back. Thanks you again, and I'm sorry about all this."

"I don't understand," he said watching her walk toward the tree, illuminated by the headlights.

Yes you do.

She sat down under that tree and gave it the weight of the world from her shoulders.

Turn around, it's time to go home.

He turned the car around, slowly. A glance in the rear-view mirror saw her bring her hands underneath her chin.

She had this planned out from the start.

A flash of light and deafening bang chased away the night for the briefest of moments, and he saw her slump to the ground.

Her last ride away from it all. She just needed someone to take her there in peace. Sorry it had to be you.

"I'm not," he muttered softly. He felt tears on his face for the orange haired girl covered in dirt. He let them linger for awhile before wiping them away and focusing on the road back to the city.

She Noticed Me

Have you ever looked at someone and just knew? Like just knew? That's what happened to me when I saw her for the first time. She was tall and awkward, which made others withdraw but made me enamored. She looked at me and smiled a small smile before her eyes went back to her phone. She noticed me.

Have you ever looked at someone and just knew? Like just knew? That's what happened to me the second time I saw her. It wasn't long after our eyes met. She was out with friends, a birthday party? I wasn't sure. She was drinking and dancing, her body moving with all that endearing awkwardness but she was smiling and that made me happy. I asked her to dance but she didn't seem interested. Just here with friends she said. I watched her the rest of the night. She noticed me.

Have you ever looked at someone and just knew? Like just knew? That's what happened the third time I saw her. It was after she was done work. I asked her if she needed a ride home. It was late. She jumped a foot off the ground. I told her I didn't mean to scare her. I asked if she remembered me, she said to get away. I said it can be dangerous out here this late. She said she'd be fine and left, her steps hurried, her long legs moving quickly. That was smart, she should get home quickly. I followed her to make sure. She noticed me.

Have you ever looked at someone and just knew? Like just knew? That's what happened the fourth time I saw her. She was just getting home. I saw her kick off her shoes and let her hair down. She poured herself a glass of wine and fell into her couch with a sigh. I wanted to ask her about her day. Was it hard? Were they making you stay late again? Were you getting enough rest? You look tired. Do you need anything? Her eyes started to flutter. She set the glass down and allowed them to close completely. I should just let her sleep. I slipped quietly out the back door. She noticed me.

Have you ever looked at someone and just knew? Like just knew? That's what happened the fifth time I saw her. She was staying at a friend's. He was tall like her, and big. She seemed upset. He was making her upset. Why was she there and not at home? Her eyes were tearing as she spoke, her voice shaking. I couldn't make out what they were talking about, the window wasn't open. But she was upset. He was making her upset. I'd speak to him after she fell asleep. She slept in his bed, he slept on the couch. The glass smashed as I let myself in. I spoke to him. She noticed me.

Have you ever looked at someone and just knew? Like just knew? That's what happened the last time I saw her. She had moved away almost overnight. She had quit her job. I found her a little while later. She was a long way from home. I was concerned. She shouldn't just leave without telling me. We had a connection. She must have forgot to tell me where she was going. She's been under a lot of stress lately. It's bad for her health. She needed my help. Her breathing was ragged, her body tossing and turning as she slept. A nightmare. I whispered in her ear that everything was going to be alright. I would keep her safe. She wouldn't need to leave again. Her eyes fluttered open. She noticed me.

Jen (Seperation and Reclamation Part IV)

Jen’s favourite bar wasn’t exactly my scene but when it came to nightlife my opinions were usually entirely ignored in favour of Jen and Ryan’s more enthusiastic venues. The three of us had been friends all through high school and time had done little to change that. Still I sometimes wondered how we ever got along at all.

This was one of those times.

Jen was a bar star. Ryan too, and they were definitely proving it tonight. While they drank and danced and generally looked like the whitest kids in the world, I hung back near the bar and tried not to let the lights and the music get to me too much. Being a designated driver meant I couldn’t be nearly drunk enough to enjoy the atmosphere, however I had drawn the short straw so here we were.

“Brad!” Jen shouted, coming over and tugging on my arm. “Come dance with us! This girl from my work is here I want you to meet her!”

I sighed, knowing full well that resistance was futile and allowed myself to be assimilated into the collective that was the dance floor.

“Sarah!” Jen shouted, waving at another girl dancing near Ryan. “This is Brad, the one I was telling you about!”

“Hi,” I said, trying not to yell but quickly realizing that was a ridiculous notion. “It’s nice to meet you!” I said, a little louder this time.

“Jen talks about you guys all the time!” Sarah said smiling. “It’s good to put faces to the names!”

“Hey come outside for a smoke!” Ryan shouted and Jen nodded. Sarah shrugged and followed us outside into the crisp night air.

Without the flashing lights I got my first real good look at Sarah and was surprised by how closely she and Jen resembled each other. Each with similar styles of dress and hair, and each with a wide smile that was proving infectious.

Ryan and Jen each lit up a cigarette while Sarah and I made small talk.

“So how do you guys all know each other?” Sarah asked.

“We all went to high school together,” Ryan said.

“Ryan and I dated on and off,” Jens said, “And he and Brad were good friends. Now we all hang out.

Brad makes sure we don’t do anything too stupid, and we try and get him to have fun once in a while. I think we balance out nicely.”

Sarah laughed, “I can see that, you do look like the big brother type.”

“I guess,” I muttered. “I’ve never thought of it that way though.”

“The people in those kinds of roles never do,” she said. “So does this mean you’re looking out for me now?”

“Um...” I stammered, “Well I...”

“Stop teasing him,” Jen scolded, interjecting with a huff. “He’s too simple when it comes to that kind of stuff.”

“Wait simple?” I said, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Before Jen could answer Ryan let out a very exaggerated sigh.

“Oh my god no one cares,” he groaned. “We’re going back inside now.”

Sarah laughed, “Aw you guys are fun, Jen we need to hang out more often.”

She shrugged, “Sure why not, Brad’s your big brother now anyway.”

“Perfect,” Sarah grinned as they went back inside.

I stood on the sidewalk for a moment longer, scratching the back of my head.

“The hell just happened?” I muttered, before following them back inside.

Absence (Seperation and Reclamation Part III)

I grit my teeth and cursed under my breath. I wasn’t really interested in stopping for anything but if I didn’t gas up my bike soon, I’d be walking the rest of the way. A sign I passed earlier said there was a rest stop just a few kilometers away, which would have to do, and a break was probably the smart thing considering I had been tearing down the highway since noon, and the sun had long since set.
 
I pulled in and killed the engine, then stepped off to fill up the bike that was by now running on fumes. As I did so I took out my phone and flipped to the picture I had received earlier that day It looked like it was taken as soon as they had arrived at Ryan’s cabin, but it was tough to be sure. Tristan, Ryan, Sarah, Jen, Dana. They were looking like they were having a great time as they posed for the camera.
 
Normally, I’d have been happy to have received a picture of them having a great time, but the circumstances were anything but normal.

It had been three months since I heard from any of them. Much too long.  I spoke to Ryan’s parents about it, and they said they had got a message from him saying he was going to be out of range of cell service as they continued backpacking and that they were going to be a little longer than they thought, and not to worry. Jen’s sister got a similar message, as did Sarah’s mom. Tristan wasn’t from our city originally so I didn’t know how to get in touch with his family, and Dana had lived alone for a long time now. Still, the people that would worry had all been reassured.
 
Except me. It wasn’t that I was lonely, or that I was regretting not being able to go with them. It was that the messages I heard all sounded very similar. Similar wording, little real personality, it sounded to me like they were reading a script. Not only that but they knew I would worry most. They would have called me, texted me, anything. But they hadn’t, and for three months is was like they just disappeared. Until today. Today I got my first real piece of evidence that they had at least made it to the lake safely.

At first I kept telling myself that they were just having fun somewhere, that they had forgotten to call me or whatever. Even being forgotten by them would be better than something having happened. But I knew more and more with each passing day that I was fooling myself.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

Those past three months were a blur. I wasn’t able to focus on anything, I was so worried. But today, today offered a brief glimmer of hope that maybe I could find them, and find out what had happened. When my phone rang and that picture came through, I immediately quit my job, withdrew a chunk of change from my savings, packed up and took off, intending to start my search at the lake, and hopefully find some answers.
 
Finally my motorcycle was full, and I quickly paid before hopping back on and taking off. I was determined to find out what had happened to them, so determined that I told myself I would do whatever it took to get the answers I needed.

It wouldn’t be the first time I had done something awful to protect them. It wouldn’t be the last.

Sarah (Seperation and Reclaimation Part II)

“You don’t like him do you?” Sarah asked me after a brief silence. She was leaning heavily on me, gripping my arm tightly as we made our way back to her car, the alcohol keeping her from moving too quickly, or gracefully for that matter.

“I never said that,” I said, trying not to laugh at her current state. Sarah wasn’t nearly as much of a partier as Jen or Ryan, so it wasn’t often that she ever needed a ride home, let alone someone to cling to lest she fall over.

“But you barely said anything to him all night,” she said with a pout. “I really like him so you should too.”

“You know we have this exact same conversation every time you get a new boyfriend right?”

“We do not!” She exclaimed, a little too loudly for 2:30am but we were hardly the only people filtering out of the club so I supposed it didn’t matter.

“We do,” I replied. “Every time you worry about what the others are going to think of whoever you may be dating, but I’m the only one that you actually pull aside and ask for an opinion.”

“Well that’s because I know if you like them, then they must be a pretty good person,” she grinned at me. “Everyone knows you’re hardest one to impress with this kind of stuff.”

“What? I am not, no one thinks that.”

“You’re the fun police.”

“I am not the fun police,” I grumbled as we rounded a corner, her car just up ahead.

“You are, and you were out in full force tonight.”

“No one thinks I’m the fun police.”

“Everyone thinks you’re the fun police. I’m going to get you a badge to prove it. You can flash it in people’s faces when they get too fun.  You can walk up to them and say excuse me sir, this is the fun police, you’re going to have to take it down a notch, the amount of fun is exceeding the legal limit, please bring it down to within the previously accepted levels of fun in accordance with city law.”

I sighed, heavily. “I just don’t have an opinion on him yet that’s all.” I said, trying to compromise. “You deserve the best, you really do. We’re all going to make sure you get it.”

“That’s sweet,” she giggled, causing her to stumble a bit. “But the others aren’t nearly as judgmental.”

“Oh come on, I am not judgmental.”

“Okay maybe that’s the wrong word, but whatever, he’s been really nice so far, so you should like him.”

“We’ll see.”

“You’ll like him,” she said, seemingly convinced she had won this round. “He has a really cool job.”

“He’s a musician,” I muttered. “You met him in a bar.”

“Fun police!” she shouted with a punch to my arm. “Told you!”

“Ugh, fine fine,” I said, rubbing my shoulder as we made it to her car. I took out her keys and unlocked her door, helping her get settled.

She smiled at me as I walked around the car and hopped in. “What was his name again?” I asked as I started the engine.

“You’re a dick,” she chuckled, leaning her head back and closing her eyes. “It’s Tristan.”

“Right, well he seems alright so far I guess.”

“Maybe I’ll marry him one day, then you’ll feel silly. For standing in the way of true love.”

“You’re drunk Sarah,” I laughed.

“Very,” she agreed. “Hey,” She said, suddenly serious. “Thanks, for always looking out for me.”

I looked over at her, barely keeping her eyes open and her blonde hair a mess from dancing with Jen.

“Always,” I said, giving her hand a squeeze as she closed her eyes and let herself sleep.