Challenge Submission Dog Days

[WhatISeemIAm]

It was a great neighbourhood. Right on a rail-line, and some distance from any station. With all the best stores. If one needed to buy hair extensions, foreign-language DVDs, had cause to exchange gold for cash, do laundry, or merely hungered after some ostensibly edible fried matter vended by suspect, elderly foreigners, who only accepted cash, then it was the place to be. A couple walking side-by-side along the otherwise empty sidewalk by a dismal looking urban park surrounded by a high chain-link fence seemed to be enjoying it at least. One of the pair; a young man in scuffed sneakers, old jeans and a sleeveless top seemed inconsolably torn in the heat. His attention split between a mostly-empty, plastic cup of bubble tea, and his girlfriend's largely bare, sweat-stained shoulders.

'Well, that didn't work,' the young woman tossed her own empty cup into a bin.

'No-' her boyfriend slurped at the last of his own drink down while lingering by the trash-can, '-it's barely cooled down at all,' Kurt shrugged as he threw the empty cup away.

It was true. The sun was long since gone, but its influence lingered on. Baked into every surface; metal, pavement, brick, all echoed the spent day's heat. The night air now thick, dead-still, and wet-warm, yet the summer had been close to perfect in spite of the heat.

'It's no good, Jen-Jen,' he continued as the two walked on, while staring at her back, 'you dressing like this-' Kurt frowned at the brunette's cut-offs and tank top, '-I get all these ideas, but it's too hot to do anything about them.'

The young woman took off her glasses, wiped some sweat from her brows as they crossed the street, glancing back with a smirk.

'Maybe you can hit me up later in a cold shower,' lightly made, but the suggestion made him smile.

They drew nearer to one of the squat and squalid apartment blocks on the street and she halted at the door, looking back when a hand fell on her shoulder.

'Let me help-' Kurt's hand plunged into a tight pocket on the front of her shorts, '-I know you could have done this easier,' he leaned over her, 'but you wouldn't have had as much fun,'

Jen did her best not to laugh and to stand up straight as he fished the keys out before she plucked the key-ring off the end of his finger and opened the door.

'Come here,' the brunette took his hand, and then his arm obliging the young man to walk alongside her.

'Am I in trouble?' he smiled as they stepped inside.

She shook her head, 'I just want you where I can see you,'

They made their way upstairs from the sparse lobby and were soon back in their apartment. The kitchen, and the primary living space were one and the same room although the latter boasted exposed, unvarnished floor-boards in contrast to the unattractive linoleum of the former. The listing had advertised the place as partially furnished, and true to this promise their landlord had given them a dirty brown couch, and a coffee table that looked as if it would not support the weight of a coffee unless it was in a paper cup. There were burn marks and stains on the kitchen counter with its four sets of cupboards, single sink, small greenish fridge. A circular dining table in the kitchen along with two chairs rounded out the arrangement. Large windows along the common area's two walls actually boasted a pleasant view for anyone with enough taste to appreciate rail lines, concrete, and a depressing urban park although at that moment none of this was particularly visible as the overhead lights had yet to come on despite Kurt flicking the switch as the two stepped inside.

'Didn't you just replace that light-bulb?' Jen frowned.

He did not respond save with laughter.

'What's so funny?'

'I think we've been robbed, again-' Kurt gestured at the dark room, '-fan's gone, and I'm guessing they took our lightbulbs, because why not?'

'Who the fuck steals lightbulbs?' His girlfriend baulked as they separated to swipe and tap at their phones.

'I don't know,' Kurt still seemed amused as the lights on their mobiles flashed about the darkened apartment, 'I'll get the old fan from downstairs, give me a minute.'

'Are you fucking kidding me?' Jen sulked as she strode further into the apartment to see what had been taken, 'It's too hot and I can't process this. I'm going to bed.'

He frowned while watching her disappear through the bedroom door before turning to inventory their losses. Though the answer was simple enough: everything of value. However that did not amount to much so it was hard to be too upset and Kurt flopped down on the unpleasant brown couch in front of a television that no longer existed, and sighed as he stared at the empty space it had left behind. He made himself comfortable just in time to hear his girlfriend's exasperated voice calling out from the bedroom.

'They took Snitter!' She stalked back out, throwing her hands up, 'what the hell is wrong with this place?!'

'Oh,' her boyfriend was trying not to smirk as he sat up, 'uh, sorry?'

It was impossible to conceal his schadenfreude as the young man had long harboured some irrational jealousy with respect to the treasured childhood possession.

'I've had him since I was five,' she crossed her arms.

'Yeah,' he responded, 'but-'

'-Not a fucking word!' The young woman glowered.

'Yeah, but, still. I mean, is it a bad thing for a grown woman not to own a stuffed toy?'

'You can be a jerk sometimes,' Jen huffed.

'I guess,' Kurt intoned guiltlessly.

'And you're not even going to apologise?' She gestured expectantly.

'Yeah, let's be honest, it's too late for that now,' some remorse had worked its way into the young man's otherwise resigned expression and tone as he spoke.

'Yeah, actually, it is too late,' she frowned.

And Jen was gone. Yanking the bedroom door shut behind her with a thud.

'Well, I'm still sorry.' Her boyfriend called out after her.

Obviously too late. There was nothing else to do but go downstairs for the fan and then try to get some sleep.


Kurt was not-quite-sleeping on the couch, legs hanging part-way over one of the arm rests, uncomfortable in the oppressive heat, with the only fan in the apartment now aimed into the bedroom and humming away at full power when his girlfriend emerged the following morning. Her expression softened when she pushed the already-ajar door open and moved the fan aside.

'Thanks for getting this.' She intoned with only a hint of resentment.

'Not something a stuffed dog would have-'

'-Really?!' Jen interrupted, '-I came out here ready to forgive you, jerk.'

'No it's fine, I am a jerk,' he sulked, 'this real-ass man just can't compete with your perfect toy dog.'

'Snitter doesn't run his mouth like-'

'-Snitter can't fucking talk!' He sat up.

'Right. I'm going out to get another fan, you stay here and sulk all you want.'

'Good.' Kurt huffed, 'I will.'

'You do that then.' She crossed her arms and glared.

'I just said I would,' he cut back.

'Fine,' Jen made for the bedroom door to get changed, 'I'll be back whenever.'

'Fine!' He called after her while trying to get comfortable once more, 'I'll-' he sighed, lowering his voice, '-I'll see if I can get your stupid dog back.'

There really was nothing else for it, and after a pointless and fitful, sweat-stained second run at sleep Kurt dragged himself up off the couch, showered, pulled some fresh clothes on and went downstairs to see about getting their stolen property
back. As rivals went the aged plushie was a maddening one, and Kurt was glad to be rid of it on some level, but even if the thought of something else affecting her so put him in a bad mood seeing Jen unhappy was worse. Moreover its return seemed his best chance at getting their near-perfect summer back on the appropriate trajectory. Luckily he knew most of the residents of their block, had a good idea who might be responsible, and meant to get them alone for a polite conversation about it when the opportunity arose, but in the meantime he had a feeling Snitter might have ended up in a dumpster. That guess brought Kurt downstairs where a row of numbered garages encompassed the ground floor of the structure. Loud music blasted from one which had been repurposed as a living space, and another was opened to reveal a group of young men within working on a car. Further along a boy stood bouncing a tennis ball off the brick wall between two closed garage doors. He did not seem to mind the heat.

'Hey Chris,' Kurt greeted him with a certain familiarity.

The boy just nodded as he went on bouncing his ball.

'See anyone messing around with a TV or fans last night?'

'Naw,' Chris spoke over the pop and thud of the bouncing tennis ball.

'I see,' Kurt frowned, 'What about a stuffed dog?'

'Yep-' the boy glared when a large hand intercepted his ball, '-give it back,' he glared, his squeaky voice growing louder, 'I will dead-ass knock you the fuck out, old man,'

For all his affronted pique the threat lacked a certain credibility.

'Take it easy.' Kurt smiled, 'where'd you see it?'

The taller figure held the ball just out of reach.

'Molly had one.' Chris glowered, 'she was sewing it up. Now gimme my ball back you boomer ass douche-bag,'

'Oh, Molly-' Kurt smirked, '-you still crushing on her?'

'Bruh!' Chris intoned bitterly, 'She has full on girly-girl brain AIDS. I would high-key fuck your girlfriend, though,'

'You're a foul-mouthed shit,'

'Yeah that's how she likes me,'

'Save the squeaky copium for League of Legends,' Kurt cut back, 'and go get your ball-' he tossed it into the guest car park with a smirk, '-I'll tell Molly you said hi,'

The sun was climbing higher overhead as he turned back. It was already hot, and would only get hotter. Not a day to be out in, but with a clear lead to work with Kurt pressed on. Heading upstairs where a young girl answered a door on the topmost floor after he knocked. It wasn't giving too much credit to the likes of Chris to concede that Molly, the girl in question, could be described as having full on girly-girl brain AIDS. She was holding a freshly sewn-up dog plushie with a bow around its neck that matched those in her own, neatly braided dark hair as she stood in the doorway. Kurt recognised the plushie instantly in spite of the damage as the little white stuffed terrier's head bore a characteristic stitch-mark, owing to an unfortunate accident involving a terrible younger brother, from which the well-loved toy took its rather tragic name.

'Where did you get that?' He inquired immediately.

Molly turned away partly, holding the small dog protectively.

'It's mine.' The girl insisted while eying the taller figure warily.

'It was stolen from my girlfriend last night, Molly, c'mon, I need it back.'

'No,' she replied simply, 'I found it, I mended it myself. It's cute, and I like it.'

'You don't even know his name,' Kurt fixed her with a flat look.

'I called him Doggie.'

'See? His name is Snitter.'

'Imagine thinking Doggie's name is Snitter.' The little girl sniffed.

'Fine,' Kurt deflated slightly, 'I won't argue. Can I just buy it off you?'

'I'm eight,' the girl spoke slowly, 'what do I want with money?'

'I don't know.' Kurt frowned, 'buy Pokémon cards and pop-rocks or whatever it is you kids love,'

Molly's suspicious expression softened into a look of incredulity.

'What the heck are pop-rocks?' She evinced obvious confusion with this.

'You mean they're not a thing anymore?' Kurt looked like he was about to launch into an explanation, but he quickly thought better of it, 'Whatever, it doesn't matter. Look, I just need the dog back OK? Help me out.'

'Alright, if you want it back that badly,' the girl seemed to be weighing her options, 'do some stuff for me and I'll think about it.'

'Fine,' he came back bluntly.

It was not, in fact, fine. Kurt found himself hauling a very old, very bulky, and very heavy air conditioner up six flights of narrow stairs as his first favour. He had it tied down to a dolly but the stairs were steep enough that the young man was effectively carrying it, and it would have proven an exhausting job even if the weather had been less hostile. As it stood he could only grasp the loose ends of the ratchet-tie belts to lift it at whiles to wrench the unit up several stairs at a time before they inevitably slipped through his sweat-smeared palms, obliging him to put it down.

'You're slow,' a girl's voice spoke from one of the small landings above him when Kurt halted, breathless, and stretched the strained muscles in his arms.

'You can carry it yourself if you think you could do it faster,' he cut back without turning his head.

'I'm an eight year old girl, and that thing is bigger than I am.' Molly returned seamlessly, 'This isn't about how quickly I could do it anyway, it's about how slowly you're doing it,'

'Go play Candy Crush Saga or something, it's too hot to listen to kiddy-sass from a six year old.' He grumbled.

'I'm almost nine!' Molly snapped, and Kurt grinned.

'Fine,' he re-joined evenly while wrenching on the dolly once more and hauling the air-conditioner up, 'you can be as old as you like,'

This generous proposal clearly did not sit well with the girl who crossed her arms and fixed Kurt's back with a dirty look. He was too preoccupied to notice, and soon had other problems when his phone started ringing. Moving quickly he wrenched the air-conditioner up to the next landing, set it down clumsily, and went for his phone to answer it before it rang out. The slick case slipped free of his hand thanks to the sweat though, and the phone bounced down the stairs as Kurt watched with a frustrated expression.

'I'll get it,' Molly spoke up.

She had seen him unlock the phone before dropping it, and after scampering downstairs to pick it up the young girl made no move to return it. Instead she began browsing through his messages.

'Hello?' He was more stunned than put out.

'You and your girlfriend are sappy,' Molly observed as she continued to read, 'At least when you're not arguing. Kinda sad though, you argue a lot.'

'OK,' there was no point getting annoyed or getting into a dispute, 'Can you be useful, and tell me who called, or messaged me?'

'Your girlfriend,' Molly said.

'Did she text?'

The girl nodded.

'What did it say?'

'She's going to be longer than she thought,' Molly said, 'but that's OK. You're going to be busy.'

The girl wasn't wrong. Too busy, as it turned out, to spend much time thinking about why Jen might have been delayed. After dragging the bulky air-conditioner up to the top floor Kurt was obliged to haul it indoors and help install it. A job he performed alongside her slightly older brother, while trying not to wonder where the girl's mother was, and avoiding the subject because he did not want cause to feel bad for her. His phone had been left in Molly's care, largely in the hopes of distracting her, and when he returned for it Kurt found the girl was in fact playing Candy Crush saga.

'It's done,' the young man said while rolling his shoulders and pulling at his sweat-stained shirt. 'Give me the dog back now,'

'Uh huh,' Molly intoned, sitting on a couch staring at his phone, evidently too absorbed in the game to say more.

'The dog,' Kurt repeated while removing his phone from her hands.

The girl glared.

'I wasn't finished,' she intoned sulkily.

'Well, I am finished fixing your air conditioner, and now I want Snitter back,'

'I said I'd think about giving him back,' Molly pointed out. 'Maybe if you do something else, though,'

Kurt stared blankly.

'Fine,' he responded, 'What am I doing?'

Nothing fun as it turned out. The girl had a problem with some locals who loitered by the nearby train station, and whose presence was preventing her from visiting a pool-owning friend. There was only one way to resolve a problem like that, and when Kurt eventually returned it seemed clear it had been resolved. Molly appreciated this fact right away when the girl answered the door, her pale brows rising as she looked the freshly scuffed-up figure over; taking in the cut lip, skinned knuckles, dishevelled clothes and harassed expression.

'Huh,' Molly seemed stunned, 'Uh, jeez. Imagine thinking I was serious about getting rid of those jerks,'

'Yes, imagine it.' Kurt spoke in a low, steady tone, while gingerly rubbing the back of his left hand, 'Now, I would like the dog back.'

'Ehh,' the girl intoned uncertainly, 'I mean, I wasn't going to, but I kind of feel bad now. Like, you're not very smart, are you?'

'Evidently not,' he responded curtly.

'Fine,' she huffed slightly, 'I'll get it.'

'Thank you,' he responded, 'and thank you for re-confirming my belief that having children would be a terrible mistake.'


When Jen arrived home that afternoon she seemed harassed, perhaps due to the heat, and managed to overlook the twice-mended dog plushie sitting on the kitchen table when she set a bag full of light-bulbs down on the counter. The young woman only saw it after tearing some paper towel off a roll atop the kitchen bench and sitting down to wipe her glasses, and her face was briefly poised somewhere between a relieved smile, and a look of concern when she examined the toy dog's newly sewn-up scar. Her attention drifted away from the animal when Kurt stalked out of their bedroom and walked over to the fridge. He tossed something into the freezer and pulled out a packet of frozen peas that was promptly pressed against the back of his left hand.

'You look like you've been through it,' she remarked, while scrutinising the young man carefully.

'Yeah, I'll be fine though,' he sat opposite her at the small kitchen table, 'happy to have Snitter back?'

Jen smiled and nodded as her gaze returned to the small plushie.

'It looks like he's been through it as well,'

'Poor Snitter,' Kurt deadpanned.

She was too pleased to be concerned by the sarcastic response.

'Yeah-' she set the plushie down, '-it's funny, I was thinking of giving him away.' Jen was staring at the stuffed dog and missed her boyfriend's stricken reaction as she went on, 'I think that girl who lives upstairs would like him. Have you met her? She's so cute,'

'I disagree,' he responded lightly, 'but it doesn't matter. As long as you're happy and we can go back to enjoying this summer. Until today I'd have said it was close to perfect,'

'I agree about the summer,' Jen moved Snitter and met the young man's eyes, 'Until last night, but I am happy you got Snitter back, and I'm surprised you didn't get upset about the news.'

The news. Those two words had a portentous quality that saw Kurt sit up a little straighter. Words like that all too often meant things were about to go very wrong.

'The what?' He was too tired to explain that his phone hadn't been in his possession for much of the day.

It turned out things were, in fact, about to go very wrong.

'About us,' she said, 'having a kid.'