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MB Short Story: Three Truths and Two Dogs (Part Two)
🕑 Added 2022-04-29 07:45:16 +0000 UTCPart One: https://www.patreon.com/posts/65701262
“Cerberus!” Glitch cursed, cradling his hand to his chest. “Hellhound, Devil Dog! Vile beast!”
Kent glared from where he knelt, stroking the heads of two trembling shih tzus. “Calm down,” he ordered Glitch. “You’re frightening them.”
“I’m frightening them?” Glitch exploded. He thrust his hand at Kent’s face; a crescent of tiny red pinpricks marred his dark skin. “The smaller one bit me!”
“Only because you scared her,” Kent retorted. “Cassandra isn’t used to wearing jackets. She didn’t understand why you were reaching for her legs.”
Both men glanced down to where the velcro schoolgirl uniform, a giant pink bow on its back, lay discarded on the floor of Jeremiah’s office. With the aid of treats, Kent had coaxed Antigone into her blue Sailor Mercury costume without bloodshed. Glitch, who had volunteered to dress Cassandra despite Kent’s warning, had not been so lucky.
Glitch pouted. “You’d think she’d show a little appreciation. These outfits weren’t cheap, you know.”
“I paid for the outfits,” Kent said.
“Yes, well, I found them on eBay,” Glitch countered, sounding affronted. “What kind of monster mauls their personal shopper?”
“Cass isn’t a monster.” Kent picked the Sailor Moon outfit off the ground, keeping his voice low and calm as he addressed the aforementioned beast. “Who’s a pretty girl? Come now, lovely. Give me your paw. That’s it.”
Tentatively, the dog held out her front leg. Without making any sudden movements, Kent slid her limb through the sleeve. One down, three to go.
“Show off,” Glitch grumbled accusatorily. “Seducer, magician. Dog whisperer.”
Kent smiled faintly as he slid Cassandra’s other paw into the outfit and closed the velcro collar around her neck. “Not a magician. Just patient.”
“‘Just patient,’” Glitch echoed in a mockingly deep voice that Kent assumed was meant to mimic his own. “I swear. You’re almost too humble to be likable, you know.”
Kent’s smile widened. “The girls won’t sit still for long,” he said, pulling a bag of treats from his pocket. “You have the camera ready?”
Glitch waved his cellphone in a lazy arc over Kent’s head. “Call me Frans Lanting.”
“Who?”
“Wildlife photographer.” Glitch pouted. “Philistine. The joke isn’t as funny if I need to explain it.”
Make more accessible jokes, then, Kent thought before deciding to keep that comeback to himself. Glitch was, after all, doing him a favor. He motioned for the dogs to sit. It took some doing—Kent had just taught them the command, and Antigone still hadn't figured out that she was supposed to sit facing him instead of turning her back—but soon both shih tzus were staring in the appropriate direction, wide eyes glued to the treat Kent held between his thumb and index finger.
Glitch snapped as many photos as possible before Cass broke formation, jumping up on Kent’s leg and her teeth digging into his thigh.
“No bite,” Kent said firmly, doing his best not to wince as he gently shook her off his leg. “Cassandra, let go.”
She released him and sat back on her rump, her tongue lolling in expectation of the treat. Instead, Kent leaned down to give the treat to Antigone alone, who gobbled it up and then stared smugly at her sister, the look on her face clearly saying ‘Sucker.’
“No bite,” Kent said again to Cassandra.
She let out a plaintive whimper and laid down on her belly. Kent fished another treat out of the bag and held it up for several seconds. When neither dog launched at him, he broke it in half and gave each a piece.
“Good girls,” he said.
* * * *
Whatever hashtag magic Glitch worked, the photos that he’d taken of Antigone and Cassandra as Sailor Moon characters had over sixty thousand hits on Pet Pics overnight.
“Half of the likes are bots,” Glitch explained. “They boost the numbers and get the pictures to more feeds, so were worth the extra hour worth setting it up. But we need a follow-up hit.”
Kent sucked in his bottom lip contemplatively as he looked out the office window to the shelter’s kennels beyond. “You have an idea for another costume?”
“I’m thinking that we stick to the cosplay theme,” Glitch said. “A lot of the comments were from people wanting to give their own dogs similar costumes for Comic-Con.”
“Comic-Con?”
Glitch groaned. “How are we friends?”
Kent shrugged.
“Anyway,” Glitch said, “I found this at a Halloween surplus store.” He reached into his backpack and pulled out a child-sized, spikey black wig. “We can dress the dogs as Kiba and Akamaru.”
Kent’s head cocked incrementally to the side.
“From Naruto?” When Kent’s expression didn’t change, Glitch let out another long groan. “They’re characters from a tv show. Kiba is a ninja, and Akamaru is his dog.”
“Annie and Cass are both dogs,” Kent pointed out.
“That’s the genius of this costume idea,” Glitch said, his eyes sparkling with excitement as he reached back into his bag and dug out a doggie gray sweater as well as a blue headband. “We only need to dress up one of them as Kiba. The other won’t need anything—she’ll be Akamaru. A dog.” He eyed Cassandra warily, who growled at him from behind the bars of her crate. “Knock it off. I just said you won’t have to wear a costume!”
Kent mulled over Glitch’s suggestion. “This costume idea. People will like it?”
“They’ll like it,” Glitch promised. “By this time next week, the shelter will be doggie paddling in donations.”
* * * *
“You’ve been having fun.”
Kent stiffened at his father’s voice. He closed the front door and turned to see Tobias sitting in his living room, his arm casually thrown over the couch’s edge and an open book in his other hand. One of Kent’s books, now that he saw the cover, taken off the shelf behind. It was just like Tobias to spring an ambush.
Wordlessly, Kent set the plastic bag he’d been carrying on the counter. It contained costumes picked out by Glitch—Pokémon outfits, more spikey-haired wigs, a tin man suit that Kent had thought was from the Wizard of Oz but turned out to be from something called Fullmetal Alchemist instead.
Tobias cleared his throat, displeased with being ignored. Kent turned to him, keeping his face purposefully blank. He never should’ve given his father a spare key.
“So, your shelter is in trouble,” Tobias said. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Was that a rhetorical question? Or was Tobias pretending that he had nothing to do with the shelter’s sudden lack of funding? Either way, it was trap. Kent had learned the safest way to not fall in a trap was to avoid it altogether, so he kept his mouth closed.
“We could’ve reached an arrangement,” Tobias continued. “I would have gladly helped you find more donors.”
In exchange for what, agreeing to an arranged marriage? Kent’s thought was tongue-in-cheek at first, but, considering how many of his past relationships had started out as blind dates with the offspring of his father’s associates, he couldn’t actually be sure that Tobias wouldn’t demand such a sacrifice. Once again, Kent deemed it best to keep quiet.
“My secretary showed me the photos you’ve been posting online.” Tobias’s voice went sharp and cold. “She particularly enjoyed the one where you were in the background. That’s how she found the dog images, you know. Someone tagged you online.” His icy grey eyes, identical to Kent’s own, raked over his son’s lanky form. “I didn’t raise you to be a beggar.”
“We prefer the term ‘campaign,’” Kent said before he could stop himself. “You should be familiar with the concept.”
The silence was frigid.
Tobias stood. Kent was tall, but Tobias still had an inch on him. And that inch felt like a foot, just as it had when Kent was eight years old. He’d never stopped being dwarfed by his father—there was no way to escape his controlling shadow.
“Call my office Monday morning,” Tobias instructed. His shoulder brushed against Kent’s on his way out the door. “There’s a gala that night. You’ll attend.”
* * * *
“We’re closing down.”
Jeremiah’s announcement was met by a protesting squeal from Trina. “What about Zee’s fundraising?” she demanded. “Annie and Cass are practically viral!”
The shelter director forced a smile. “Online donations cover enough to pay back the bank loan on the kennel expansion,” they said, avoiding Kent’s silent gaze. “It’s still not enough to pay our operating costs. Three more donors withdrew their support today.”
Trina let loose a torrent of curse words, some of which Kent had never before heard. His heart beat fast inside his ribcage, so loudly that he could hear it as anger caused blood to surge to his head. This was Tobias’s collateral, then, his insurance that Kent would fall back and line and play the dutiful son for Monday’s gala.
Kent would go, of course. If the shelter was about to close down, he didn’t have any choice.
* * * *
“Of course you have a choice,” Glitch declared.
He was sitting on the same couch that Tobias had ambushed Kent the night before, his legs outstretched and checkered converses resting on the coffee table. Antigone and Cassandra were baying from their crates in the kitchen—Jeremiah was hosting one last adoption fair before transferring the other animals to Saint Francis, but they’d deemed the shih tzus too “risky” to include. Given that Cass had almost bitten Trina’s earlobe off when she’d gone to feed them, Kent couldn’t blame them for their hesitancy.
“We’re losing donors quicker than we’re gaining online support,” Kent said dully. “It’s over.”
The shelter wasn’t over, of course. Kent wouldn’t allow that to happen. What was truly ended was Kent’s brief affair with defiance.
“Your dad’s punishing you for not attending parties,” Glitch said. “He’s a loser. We don’t need him.”
“The shelter needs him,” Kent said.
“No,” Glitch argued. “The shelter needs donors.” He looked at Kent speculatively, and Kent felt a shiver go down his spine.
“What?”
“You should go to that gala tomorrow.”
“That was the plan.”
“Not for your dad. Go for the shelter.”
“It’s the same thing.”
Glitch leaned forward, his gaze intent. “No,” he said slowly. “It’s not. You don’t need your dad to save the shelter—you just need access to the rich invitees. Forget Mayor Z’s agenda for tonight, and instead focus on telling people about the shelter yourself.”
Kent’s palms began to itch. “Tobias won’t like it.”
“Screw Tobias,” Glitch said. “We just need a few big donations to tide the shelter over until we have enough online subscribers.” He flipped over his tablet and showed Kent the Pet Pic profile he’d set up for Annie and Cass. “The dogs are popular. Monetizing a following just takes time—time the shelter doesn’t have. You hook a few fat cat donors; you buy us time to save actual fat cats. No help from your dad required.”
* * * *
Kent Zarneki forced himself into a black tuxedo with a too-tight collar. He polished his shoes and practiced his smile. Then, surprised that he still recognized his reflection in the mirror, he stepped into his 1971 Ford Mustang and drove himself once again to The Starlight Hotel and Ballroom.
The gold and ivory curtains had been replaced with velvet red, white, and blue. Like all events Tobias hosted or attended, this gala was to raise funds for a nonprofit—something about veterans, if Kent recalled correctly. The charity didn’t really matter. Tobias’s number one priority was to either appear rich and electable (as with the last event Kent had attended), or patriotic and electable. Which quality his father focused on depended on the target audience, though, and this time around he’d clearly decided to channel All American Salt of the Earth.
Kent’s eyes scanned the ballroom and landed on Senator Martin, a retired naval officer turned jingoistic politician. So that’s why Tobias had broken out the stars and stripes. His father standing near the refreshment table, his gaze on Kent and his stance expectant. If Glitch hadn’t convinced Kent otherwise, he’d have headed right over, ready to broker peace and do whatever Tobias asked to save the shelter.
A short burst of static filled Kent’s left ear, followed by Glitch’s voice. “Wow,” he said over Kent’s concealed earpiece. “I’m looking through your eyes and this places is capital-F Fancy. How do the new contacts feel?”
Kent blinked. Other than some lingering dryness, the lenses Glitch had installed yesterday were functioning perfectly. In addition to letting Glitch have a visual, they also allowed his MIV to provide feedback and commentary on the guests. Silver numbers noting annual salaries hovered over the heads of the assembled guests, visible only to Kent.
“The lenses are fine,” Kent said, taking a sip of punch to disguise the movement of his lips as he scanned the other guests. “Kim won’t be happy we went ahead with it after he said no.”
“Kim Schkmim,” Glitch said dismissively over the com. “The lenses are helping us for a super important mission. Plus, it’s not like you went blind.”
Kent doubted that their instructor would agree that untested biotech was required to solicit wealthy donors for an animal shelter, nor had he realized that blindness was a possible side effect. But the lenses were already installed, so there was no use arguing.
“What about Arabella Zhou?” Kent asked Glitch. “She adopted a poodle from us.”
“Arabella Zhou . . .” Glitch let out a low whistle. “Who knew a boutique cosmetic company could be so profitable? Give me a second to pull up her info.”
While Glitch did background research, Kent avoided eye contact with his father. It was becoming harder and harder to ignore Tobias’s pointed looks, which at this point bordered on an outright glare.
“Arabella Zhou,” Glitch announced. “Seventy-five, thrice divorced. One granddaughter, who is, might I add, super attractive. Looks like Ms. Zhou's company had a history of run-ins with animal activism groups, and they’ve only recently sworn off animal testing. That’s our opportunity.”
Kent frowned, sidestepping around a pillar so that he was no longer in Tobias’s line of sight.
“How?” he asked.
“Publicly supporting the same shelter where she adopted her elderly dog from will be great PR,” Glitch said, and Kent could almost hear his smug smile. “She’s able to say ‘look, see, we really care about the cute lil' bunnies and aren’t just changing our testing standards due to political pressure.’ It’s a win-win. Think you can convince her?”
Arabella Zhou was one of the mayor’s biggest supporters. Tobias wouldn’t like his son approaching her without permission, especially for something unrelated to his campaign. Knowing Tobias, he wouldn’t just consider this as Kent going against their prior agreement. He’d view it as a declaration of war.
Kent thought of Antigone and Cassandra. If the shelter shut down, they’d have no place to go. Unless . . . well, maybe he’d do that anyway. For now, though, he needed to steal Arabella Zhou’s patronage away from his father. Good thing that Mei was coming to visit and she’d need a tour guide. He'd have to thank Tobias later for the tip on how to win over Ms. Zhou.
“Yeah,” Kent told Glitch. “I can convince her.”
Comments
John Q. Adams
“We prefer the term ‘campaign,’” Kent said before he could stop himself. “You should be familiar with the concept.” Kent woke up and chose violence.
