Junk of the Heart

chapter three - the stuffed dog

Half an hour passed before anyone stopped. The first item to go was a stuffed yellow dog with frightening cartoon eyes and a bright red tongue lolling out of its mouth. C.S. had remarked that it was thirsting for blood, and Brodie had agreed. But a young girl strolling by with her mother had been able to look past its frightening snout and abnormal coloring to accept it into her heart. There was a real mutt along with them, was sniffing about the yard.

Brodie stood and plucked the mad-dog from its display before he kneeled down and held it out to the girl. He was oddly talented in interacting with children. C.S. had always reckoned it was because the man was hardly more developed than a child, himself. “What’s your dog’s name?” asked Brodie.

Coyly, the girl trotted up to him and stole the stuffed animal into a tight hug while her mother slipped C.S. a five dollar bill. “His name’s Wrigley,” she mumbled, through a small smile.

“Like the field? Go, Cubs!”

The girl glanced over her shoulder to look at her mother, who gave her a reassuring nod. She turned back to Brodie and mirrored the gesture.

“Well this dog here,” he grabbed the stuffed retriever’s tail and wiggled it. “Her name’s Rene. And she eats boys.” He threw in a friendly wink. Behind him, C.S. let out a mighty scoff.

“Actually,” mused Brodie, after he had settled back into the shade, fresh glass of iced tea in hand. “That dog was named Noah.”

C.S. glanced up from where he was reorganizing the bag of bills and change. “Noah like… that kid Rene used to date?”

“That other kid Rene used to date.” Brodie swirled his drink and expelled a large breath - as he always did when prefacing storytime. “You know I won that fucking thing from the county fair…” He took a long sip in the name of dramatic effect. “I had to vanquish the plate smashing game. You’re familiar, I’m sure… The one that involves breaking ceramic with tiny little bean-bags? Run by some neck-bearded prick?”

C.S. nodded.

He took another sip. “Well, I win this thing like a fucking champ, right? I conquered. And people are watching and clapping as I pick out the least ugly stuffed animal I can find… then Rene has the audacity to name it after her ex.” Brodie snorted and slipped his shades back on. “Sometimes I wonder… did chivalry really die? Or was it murdered?”

Brodie slumped against the armrest of his lawnchair, forming words without speaking them; there had been but a few moments of chivalry during his time with Rene, and he knew the county fair hadn’t been one of them...

“What?! You think that just ‘cause a guy likes comics he can’t start some shit?! Let’s roll, asshole! It’s on!”

He had become a recluse once more, retracting back into his memories. The plate-smashing game at the fair. The sun had just dipped under for the night, and the carnival was ablaze with lights and colors. It was romantic. Or at least, it should have been... But instead, Rene was leaned against the game booth kicking popcorn kernels around and waiting for Brodie to quit barking.

“Easy there, Kid Flash…” The game-runner grinned, watching Brodie stir under his condescension. “I don’t think I like you when you’re angry…”

Frustrated, Brodie let out a storm of agonized groans and nearly yanked his hair out by the roots. He pounded his fist into the countertop. “Listen up Neckbeard, because I need to take you to school real quick. First of all…” Brodie presented the screenprinting on his shirt, balling his fists in the fabric and tugging at the hem. “This, friend, is not the Flash. So stop calling me that. This is Wolverine - and I would show some fucking respect! Because while I don’t share his indestructible adamantium claws, he and I have something in common...” Brodie leaned across the counter, pulling himself far closer than need be to shout at the man. “We can both go berserker on your ass!” A small crowd had gathered, drawn by the commotion and amused by the excessive swearing. “Secondly you don’t… You aren’t even…” He grabbed a fistful of his hair again, too flabbergasted for words. “‘You won’t like me when I’m angry’ is Bruce Banner’s catchphrase. AKA The Hulk. He and Flash aren’t even in the same universe. DC? Marvel? Ringing any bells?!”