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Aiden and Gene's dog (Short Story)
🕑 Added 2023-09-25 01:20:15 +0000 UTC!Warning!
this story touches on topics of abuse and the harming of animals
This has been keeping me very busy for the last week! This was made for a college course I'm currently in, which had a strict page limit. I had to condense the story a tad :)
Stale grass brushed against Gene and Aiden’s bare legs as they half heartedly ran from Gene’s new border collie pup who was trotting close behind. Aiden wore a bright purple birthday hat which disappeared halfway down in his dark curls, and Gene wore his new cowboy hat with white seams. The puppy’s head would bob up over the grass with each stride she made. The boys would laugh when she nipped, the thick pine trees above would sway, and the pup would let out a bark. When she stopped to snuffle at the ground, Gene scooped her up and held her close to his chest, scratching her head with two fingers. An innocent jealousy sat in Aiden’s chest. He said; and whenever you go on holiday I can watch her. To which Gene replied; yea, okay.
Aiden dropped his leather school bag on the back porch which made a brief cloud of dust rise from the white painted floorboards. Each wooden step creaked under his untied tennis shoes.
Robin stood with a wagging tail and she shifted from paw to paw in a dance as Aiden came to unlatch her lead. She was attached to the house by a chain hooked to her thick leather collar that sat comfortably on her black and white neck. Two metal bowls were resting on the grass beside her. One of which was empty, and the other half filled with water and floating globs of saliva.
“Hi, Robin,” he said, then reached down to pet her head.
Robin panted with an open mouthed smile and tried to lick his hand, to which Aiden recoiled. He reached out to scratch her ear, then pulled his hand away once more when she attempted another lick.
Aiden glanced at the window above the kitchen sink.
Water slapped against the rocks as Aiden tipped the bowl of water by the back gate. Robin- now unleashed- sniffed at the wet gravel as Aiden battled the water faucet. It squealed before finally popping free, and Aiden began to twist it which made the hose hiss. He propped the bowl upright, and aimed the hose. A fierce stream of water hit the metal and began to fill it like cow’s milk to a pale.
Robin stared bewildered at the stream, her ears upright. Aiden eyed her as she neared and nipped at the water once, then twice. He playfully waggled the hose which made her jump back.Aiden giggled and Robin's tail began to wag.
Aiden glanced at the window above the kitchen sink.
They played back and forth, Aiden teasing her with the water and her nipping at the stream. Cleverly, Robin found her way behind Aiden to the hose, taking the rubber in her mouth to begin pulling it back which ripped the spraying hose from Aiden’s hands.
His smile dropped.
Where Robin ran, a wet line of mud formed behind her on the dry ground. When Aiden neared her she play-bowed, tail wagging in the air.
“Robin! Stop it!”
Aiden reached down to grab the hose, beginning to yank it to drag the shepard closer to him. She growled and shook her head on the hose. Aiden feared her puncturing the rubber.
“Stop!”
He gave her head a push with his shoe. She playfully grabbed his shoe in her jaws. Aiden kicked her snout.
His kick was swift but firm, feeling the thunk of her solid nose under his sole.
Robin yelped, and scampered away with a tucked tail while looking back at Aiden. When she circled around to him again, her ears were down and her head was dipped lower than her shoulder blades. Aiden stared at her, scowling. She stared back.
Aiden’s scowl faded, and his heart sank. He turned off the water and stayed where he was while twisting the bottom of his own shirt. He studied her face, and he envisioned Gene seeing him kick his dog.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
Robin did not approach him again.
With his school bag slung around his shoulder, Aiden quietly opened the back door to slip into the kitchen. After closing it, he hesitated in his step when he saw his mother sitting at the kitchen table with her glasses perched on the tip of her hooked nose. She was carefully gluing the legs on a miniature doll’s bed.
The cream colored zenith radio that sat just under the kitchen window lazily played ‘Born Too Late’ by the Poni-Tails. Aiden’s shoes clacked against the olive green vinyl floor as he neared the sink, having to get on his tiptoes to reach for the flower shaped soap bar. The ceiling fan whirred, the radio played, and water hit against the metal bowl of the sink.
“Do you like that dog?” Aiden’s mother asked.
Aiden nodded. When his mother did not respond, he turned to look at her.
“She’s nice.”
“Is that right?...”
Aiden watched her face, then turned his head away to dry his hands on the scratchy hand towel hanging on the stove handle.
“Taking care of her is easy,” he said. Aiden reached up to hold the strap of his school bag. “I think if we had one, it would be really easy to have.”
Aiden’s mother took off her glasses and let her wrists drop to the table. She sighed and stared at Aiden, who was staring back while twisting his backpack strap.
“Just say that you want a dog, Aiden,” she said.
Aiden said nothing.
“Honey, I don’t think you should have a dog at all. You’d get bored of it and then who would take care of it?” she put her glasses back on her nose. “I already have to take care of
you, Aiden.”
“I wouldn't get bored,” Aiden replied.
“But you’d hit it?”
Aiden’s heart dropped, and shame spread in his chest. He pictured what he looked like kicking Robin’s nose from the kitchen window.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Well, a dog wouldn't understand that.”
She sighed and scratched the corner of her eye with a long red painted nail. Aiden felt her eyes on him as he kept his gaze on the floor.
After being excused from dinner, feeding Robin, and finishing homework, Aiden laid down on his barren mattress and naked pillow. His sheets had been removed a week prior after he broke one of his mother’s porcelain angels in the living room. An hour after he fell asleep, he was awoken by long howls from Robin in the backyard.
Despite the fog of sleep in his head, he mindlessly shot up and slipped on a pair of sneakers. He rushed to throw a shirt on then headed out of his doorless room- the hinges had been removed.
“Aiden!” his mother called from her room down the hall.
“I’m getting her!” he said back.
He jogged past pictures of his older brother on the hallway wall, through the kitchen, and then outside to see Robin standing with her head pointed up. Howling. When she howled, warm fog wafted from her nose and mouth in the biting cold.
Aiden rubbed his own thin arms as he walked to her.
“Robin,” he said.
She whined.
It was not cold enough to snow, but it was cold enough to make Aiden shake while he sat beside Robin on the dead grass with his back leaned against the house. She laid beside him, still whimpering while his thin fingers raked through her soft black and white fur.
He studied how the tips of his fingers would sink into her fur and disappear. She was so soft, especially her ears.
In that moment, alone to himself in the cold black backyard, Aiden felt that he was probably the only boy in the world mean enough to hit a dog.
Aiden took Robin for a walk the next day, using a leather lead rather than the chain one that kept her tethered to the house. He felt that he looked rather cool walking with his border collie who- if it was his- would be named Martha like Paul Mccartney’s dog. They walked down Wither street to the shopping area, where Aiden had the privilege of buying a creamsicle for a nickel.
Gene and his parents- Mr. and Mrs. Ramsey- got ice cream every single sunday together. Gene would tip his popsicle down and sneak Robin a few licks, which Aiden was not willing to do. As they walked back home, Aiden noticed Robin wore an expression of hope with a wide panting smile and perked ears. She stared up at him, waiting.
Aiden thought he would look so groovy with a dog who followed him without a leash.
“Sit,” he said. Robin obediently sat.
He reached down- with his creamsicle raised so Robin wouldn't jump- and unlatched her lead. He put it around the back of his neck like a scarf and watched her as he began to walk again. She followed, eye’s on the popsicle.
Aiden smiled to himself and pictured the image of him with a popsicle and Robin loyal at his side. He probably looked very groovy.
As a ford cortina rounded the hill coming towards them, Aiden watched the faint silhouette of the passenger and wondered if they would notice him and Robin walking together. He waved, and the car zipped past him.
As Aiden’s gaze stayed on the car, he noticed that Robin had in fact not followed him and was still a few paces down the sidewalk. She was digging at a lizard hiding in the crack of the sidewalk, which made Aiden giggle. She pressed her nose against the crease, then dug again.
The pale lizard darted out into the road, scampering across the dark asphalt. Robin bolted after it, her ears perked and her tail wagging as she pursued. Aiden’s heart dropped.
Robin’s body made a loud thunk as the car hit her. She yelped, but was cut off as the tire of the car rolled over her making the cortina bounce before continuing to drive down wither street.
Aiden stood still holding his popsicle while a stream of melted orange cream dripped down his fingers and speckled the pavement. Robin was laying completely still in the road, but she let out slow wheezy whimpers with each labored breath she took.
Aiden did not move. He dropped the popsicle and watched Robin attempt to writhe on the asphalt to stand, but she was unable to. He twisted at the bottom of his own shirt, slowly walking back down the sidewalk to see her face. When Robin saw him, her tail wagged.
Aiden looked both ways before entering the road. He knelt by her head but he did not touch her. She watched him with her eye, whining with each slow rattled breath.
Aiden felt useless.
He stood and ran back to the popsicle he had abandoned, picking up the stick with the now melted glob attached to it. He ran back to Robin, kneeling down once again to offer her the treat. His hands shook over her muzzle and a droplet fell on her lip. Robin did not move.
For a very long time, Aiden sat on the side of the curb and cried. Cars would drive by and swerve to avoid her. Gene would see her when they’re pulling into the neighborhood tomorrow. Aiden’s chest ached as he pictured Gene in the backseat, pointing at the roadkill ahead curiously.
And mother, she would be home from work to make dinner soon. He looked down at his leather watch and felt dread squeeze at his stomach. He had thirty four minutes to do something.
Aiden ran all the way back to wither street with a rug rolled under his thin arm. The ratty rugged rug had been left to rot in the garage since his mother had first bought it. The end of it dragged on the pavement behind Aiden. He checked both sides of the road again and he neared the black and white lump. He unrolled the shaggy mustard yellow rug flat on the asphalt beside her.
He pictured his mother’s car driving down the road, and his heart skipped a beat.
With shaking hands, Aiden scooped under Robin’s soft fur and rolled her onto the shag carpet. Her limp legs laid over one another unnaturally. Soon, the carpet was rolled up tight again and dragged back to the sidewalk so Aiden could begin jogging home. The bottom of the shag rug turned a dusty gray as it was scraped through the neighborhood.
Tomorrow, Gene would be home. Aiden would tell Gene that Robin had escaped, and that she had run off into the woods, and that Aiden was still looking for her. After school, while his mother was at work, he would drag the rug to the trash can outside- it was trash day tomorrow- and it would be taken away. Robin would be taken away.
After pulling it into the garage, Aiden propped it up beside the same abandoned boxes that he found it by. He took a step back to look at it, panting. It looked how it did before, except for the subtle lump resting at the base.
Aiden’s eyes went glossy and he covered his mouth with his palm. A black tail with a white tip was peeking out from the bottom of the rolled rug. He knelt to slip it under the rug, but instead of covering it he began to stroke it. The fur was still silky under the pads of his finger tips.
It was then that two headlights rounded the driveway and beamed into the garage like two spotlights. Aiden stood up and held his own shirt as he watched his mother’s car roll into the garage, seeing her silhouette in the driver’s seat. The car was smokey inside from her cigarette.
The humming engine fell silent when she pulled the key and opened the door. A red heel stepped out. She wore her thick leopard print coat with heavy pearl drop earrings. She stared at Aiden, and he stared at her.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Playing,” Aiden said.
“Do you have to do it in the garage?”
“I was- well I was thinking I could find a toy for Robin in one of the old boxes.”
Aiden’s mother neared him with clacking heels, opening one of the cardboard flaps to pear inside. She looked at Aiden.
“Is that what you were doing?” she asked.
Aiden nodded.
“Are you lying to me?”
“No.”
For a long time, Aiden’s mother said nothing. She stared down at her son with her thin pencil brows raised and her green eyes slightly wider than usual. It made the wrinkles on her forehead more pronounced.
Aiden stared back, twisting his own shirt. He could feel Robin’s tail on the ground just beside him. Finally, his mother sighed through her nose and walked to the garage door.
“Close the garage door, Aiden. I don’t like you snooping around in my things hun.”
“Okay, I’m sorry.” he said, watching her go.
After pretending to feed Robin in the backyard, practicing his piano, and finishing his homework packet, it was time for dinner. Thankfully, his mother had not approached the garage again, too fixated on preparing food for the boys.
Aiden’s mother sat at the head of the table with Aiden and Aiden’s brother on either side of her. Tonight, they were having pineapple chicken. Chunks of chicken on top of stir fry rice and round slices of pineapple. All was lathered with an off-white sauce and peas. Aiden picked at it with his fork, his eyes glossed over.
At the Ramsey household, they would always cook something italian. Aiden liked Mrs. Ramsey’s stroganoff with mushrooms and beef. He felt his heart sink as he recalled that Gene would often go outside with leftovers and scoop them into Robin’s bowl.
“What's wrong Aiden?” his mother asked.
“What?” he replied.
“You’ve just been sulking all dinner. Do you think it’s bad?” she gestured to the uneaten bowl of food.
“It’s good.”
“Really? You’re just being awfully quiet. If you don’t like it, then don’t eat it.”
“No, I want to eat it, I’m sorry.”
“Well I don’t want everyone to get sick. Do you think it’s gross?” she asked Aiden’s brother. He shook his head no, then glared at Aiden. “If I had known you didn’t want it Aiden, I wouldn't have spent an hour making it.”
Familiar guilt settled in Aiden’s chest as he dug his fork into a chunk of chicken, raising it to his mouth. He chewed and his mother watched his face. He scooped a mouthful of rice and ate another bite. His mother looked away.
Just before bed time, after Aiden had brushed his teeth and gotten into pajamas, his mother let out a shrill scream from across the house. The garage door came open, then slammed shut, and Aiden felt a numbing dread spread through his body. With no door to close, he stayed curled up and waited as his mothers steps came down the hallway.
A shadow loomed over Aiden before a cold hand took his wrist, yanking him up to stand. He was dragged through the house to the garage in silence. His mother opened the garage door, pressing a hand on Aiden’s back to push him inside. On the garage floor was a half unrolled rug, and Robin’s body resting atop.
“What is wrong with you!” she said. “How did you kill it? What did you do to it?”
Aiden said nothing.
“Did you hit her until she stopped moving? Have you killed other animals before?”
Aiden shook his head no.
“Aiden, this is what murderers do. Did you do this because you’re jealous? Oh because I won’t get you a dog?”
Aiden began to cry.
“What are you going to tell Gene?” she said, crossing her arms.
Aiden did not speak, and his mom said nothing. For a long time, Aiden only wept and she stared down at Robin.
“This is disgusting, Aiden.”
Aiden continued crying.
“Oh my god…”
Aiden kept his eyes on Robin. He imagined her tail beginning to wag again. He imagined her getting up and play-bowing at him.
“Look at me.”
Aiden looked up at his mother. She wore that wide eyed scowl that tightened the thin lines around her lips.
“You are going to bury this damn dog in their backyard. Do you understand? And when Gene gets home, I am going to watch you go over there and tell him what you did.”
The next morning, after Aiden had failed to fall asleep, the Ramsey’s pulled into their driveway. Aiden watched them from his window as they rolled down the street and into their flat dirt driveway. Mr. Ramsey popped open the trunk and began to unload the luggage within, hoisting each suitcase up and out before rolling them to the front door.
Gene stepped out of the car in his sheriff badge pajamas with a pillow and folded quilt that he kept in the back seat while they were traveling. He jogged to follow his mother in the house, shoeless. Smiling.
Aiden felt a weight pulling in his chest.
Aiden’s mother stood in the driveway with a cup of coffee in both hands. She was wrapped in a robe with leopard print slippers and curlers in her hair. She watched Aiden walk down the road to the Ramsey home. He breathed quickly despite his blank
expression, and his hands twisted at his own shirt. Before knocking on the door, he glanced back at his mother. She took a sip of her coffee.
The door creaked open, and Gene smiled when he saw Aiden.
“Hi,” Gene said.
“Hi. Uhm- how was it?”
“Good.”
“Robin was ran over yesterday,” Aiden said.
“Oh…” Gene replied. “What?”
“I walked Robin yesterday and she got hit by a car.”
“Oh, okay,” Gene said. “Where is she?”
Aiden said nothing.
“Did she break anything?”
“No, she died.”
“She died?”
Aiden nodded, “I’m so sorry, Gene. I’m sorry.”
“Where is she?”
“My mom made me bury her in the backyard. Your backyard.”
“Oh… Really?”
“I’m so sorry.”
For a while, Gene said nothing. He stared at Aiden’s face with an empty expression. Then, he punched him. His knuckle hit the bridge of Aiden’s nose which popped the cartilage. Aiden wailed and fell back with his fingers holding his stinging hooked nose. Red began to speckle the porch floor under him, warm blood sliding from his nose down his fingers. Gene stood above him as though he was going to say something, but the front door was soon shut and Aiden was left on the front porch with a burning in the middle of his face. He began to stand, pinching the bottom of his nose and holding his head back. He walked back across the road, crying, with his nose tipped up and spots of red on his shorts.
His mother placed a hand on the back of his head as they went to the front door again, then waited for Aiden to open it for her.
“I’m glad you feel sorry, Aiden,” she said. “Honey, do you see why I’d never get you your own? I don't think you can control how destructive you are.”
She laughed, following Aiden to the kitchen. He plucked three tissues from the box and held them to his nose.
“It was an accident,” Aiden said with a strained voice.
“What?”
Aiden said nothing.
“Is that what you think?” she asked.
Aiden felt his mother’s eyes on him while he stared at the vinyl floor. She took a long sip of her coffee, then turned and left him in the kitchen.
Comments
Aloof encyclopaedia
POOR ACE
Christie
IVE BEEN FED TY FOR THE MEAL😋
Lesbugz
I feel BETRAYED (the dog thing makes sense now and I honestly truly am never going to recover)
