This is a silly little short story I wrote for a competition. My guidelines were Dental Hygenist, Ransom, and Spy. It turned out pretty good and I've proud of it considering i had such a short deadline to get it out.
Tooth Hurty.
I knew the second I walked through the door that day was going to be different. After scraping and cleaning teeth for months, he was finally giving me a real assignment. Something I could seriously sink my teeth into.
“Kathy,” my boss said. “There’s a new dentist in town. Dr. H. West. He's taken a few of our patients. Can you go over there and see what his office looks like? See if he's offering anything we aren't. We've had a few too many cancelations.”
“You want me to go undercover? Spy for you?”
“Yeah. Sure. Just don't do anything weird, okay? I don't want him knowing who we are.
“Of course,” I said. “I'll get to the bottom of this. The truth always comes out.”
He had picked the right woman for the job. All the plaque cleaning had left me anxious for something real to do. The cold, hard streets of our small town were a breeding ground for ne'er do wells that needed to be scraped clea—
“Kathy. You're doing it again. I need you out there, not spacing out in my office. What part of ‘don't be weird’ didn't you understand?”
“Sorry.” What did he know of weird? He hadn’t see the things I had.
He stopped and glanced at me over his shoulder. “Oh, and don't take Tom. He's kind of a douche. I don't want him messing this up.”
“Of course. No Tom. Got it.”
Tom and I walked down the street towards Dr. West's office. The gutters were filled with the debris of a thousand disposable lives. A waste basket for the selfish indigents these hard-suburban streets had given birth to.
We had stopped by my apartment to get a long coat and hat. Tom asked if it was going to rain. I pulled out a bent cigarette I kept in the jacket for this sort of occasion.
“No, kid,” I said, lighting it up. “We gotta keep ourselves incognito. On the down low. In disguise.”
I pulled a hard drag on the stale cancer stick and coughed until I almost barfed. Life as a dental hygienist had made me soft. Maybe too soft. Could I pull off one more mission?
“What should I wear? You got a cool coat for me?”
“Nah kid. This is my only one. Let’s kick rocks.”
“I don't know what that means.”
Poor Tom. Pretty as a nice smile of straight white teeth, but as many mental molars as a new born baby.
“Stick with me, kid.”
As we got to the office, a little white dog trotted up towards us from around the corner. It was cute, and fluffy with an energetic bounce and playful bark. It was the kind surrogate baby that bored house wives toted around all day. Its tongue hung out its mouth like a hangman’s noose. She was bad news. I could see it in her happy little face. The kind of dame that was all legs, and just enough tail to make a person look twice.
“Cute dog,” Tom said. “Where's it's collar?”
“A dog that cute belongs to someone nearby. If she’s still here when we get done, we'll take her case.”
“Okay,” he said, with an audible huff.
Poor kid. He just didn't understand the cold heart a job like this required. The endless hours, and ever vigilance. It could grow callouses on the heart of the most innocent children. The dame would have to wait. That's what the job meant.
As we stepped into the office, a sugary sweet woman in her fifties greeted us with a smile. Those pearly whites were something to behold. But as nice as she was, there was something as rotten as a cavity in that place. I could smell the placid decay of moral judgement from the front office. They were up to something. I could taste it in the air. It tasted of mint.
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked.
Oh no. I hadn’t thought that far ahead. I panicked. “Yes!”
“What’s the name?”
“Kathy J Bond.”
My heart sank. I had just given her my real name.
“I don't see you on my list. Are you sure you have an appointment.”
“Oh, I misheard you. I need to make one.”
Nice save.
“Ok, fill this out, and he'll be right with you.”
Their office was smaller than ours. The boss would be pleased by this. Though, there were plenty of people waiting for a cleaning. They sat there, like dull witted cattle, in an anesthetized life. Someone needed to save them.
“Ma'am,” she said. “Would you care to take seat? You're just sort of standing there.”
“Of course,” I said, smiling back. I couldn't let on that I knew something was afoul under the bleached veneer of their office front.
I popped out my small notepad, and scribbled down some things. Small office. Lots of patients. White teeth. Big smile. Handsome—
Everyone perked up with quiet anticipation as the office door opened up and Dr. West stepped in with a clip board. Their excitement abated when he called someone else’s name.
“Mr. Brimley?” he asked.
I must admit, seeing him took my breath away. Six feet of man meat, chiseled and shaped to perfection like an artisan’s dental plate. He was tan, with dark hair, and moody eyes. He must have seen me staring because he looked right at me. My spine became as weak as a strand of dental floss. I looked away.
Good Morning, Mr. Brimley. Let me ask you a question.”
“Shoot,” Brimley said, removing his hat and jacket.
“When is it time to go to the dentist?”
Mr. Brimley looked confused. He was about to fall for the dumbest joke in dentistry, but I couldn’t save him. I was forced to watch the travesty unfold. “Today?”
Dr. West had a big, corny smiled on his face. The kind a kindergarten teacher wore every day. “Close. Tooth hurty!”
It took Mr. Brimley a moment, but it came to him. Like a patient waking up from being put under, he said, “Oh! I get it. Very clever.”
As they exited the room, two old hens began clucking.
“He tells that joke every time.”
“It's a good joke,” the other said.
I rolled my eyes, and got up.
“Lets scoot,” I said. Tom was confused until I motioned towards the door.
As we stepped outside the little dog greeted us again. Its beady brown eyes looked confused as he tilted his head at us. My heart melted just enough to feel a twinge of guilt as I walked off. This isn’t the world for such attachments.
We made it one block when I heard a bark. I turned around, and there she was. Standing there, glaring at us with her tongue out.
“Faster,” I said, hoping to leave her behind.
We stopped again at the next block and the dame was still behind us. I clinched my fists in a fit of rage.
“Go home! Its too dangerous with us. We're spies, and spies don’t have cute little dogs. Get!”
I stormed off, determined for her to go, but at the next block, she was still there. I dug the cut of her jib. It takes moxie to be so tenacious.
“Come on, kid. You're with us now.”
“I thought I was kid?”
“You just got promoted to galoot.”
“I don't like that.”
“Why do you have a dog?” my boss asked as we stood by his car.
“I got some bad news for ya, boss,” I said. “The recon trip was successful. We're working with a hottie.”
“A hottie?”
“I think she means he's a hunk, sir.”
“Thank you, Tom,” he said, before turning towards me. “What's he doing here?”
“Some assignments are too big for one person.”
“Are you high?”
“What? No. I'm just having fun. Stop trying to ruin it.”
“Whatever. Just don’t act like this at work.”
“Fine, Dad.”
“Listen, you’re getting a little old for all this. Go find someone to spend time with who isn't Tom. No offense, Tom.”
“None taken, sir.”
“What’s wrong with the dog’s mouth?”
My boss knelt down on his creaky knees. He was showing his age more and more. The suburban life had grinded down his edges. It left him jaded and incurious. That's why he hired me for these sorts of jobs. The expert.
“It's tongue just seems to hang out of it,” I said.
“That's because she's toothless,” he said, spreading the dog’s jaws. “There's nothing to hold it back. You should really find this dogs home. You don't want to have to hand feed it. You coming over for dinner?”
“Maybe tomorrow. After a case this big, I might need a few days to recover.”
“Your mom's making stroganoff.”
I shook my head in disgust. He knew my weakness. “I'll be there, you sly bastard.”
“Love you too, Sweetheart.”
We made the long walk back to Dr. West's office. The halcyon sun was already hiding its face behind the trees, desperate in its escape from the long, bitter night.
“Maybe we should knock on some doors,” Tom said.
The kid was wizening up. Its was a good idea. One I would have thought of eventually. A good spy always has an idea up her sleeve.
The first house we knocked on was across the street from the dentist’s office. An old woman opened the door a crack. Just enough to poke her boney face through.
“Yes? Can I help you?”
“We were wondering if you know who this dog belongs to.”
I held the dame up to the woman’s face. The little tongue hung free, bombarding the woman with all of her white fluffy cuteness. The woman smiled, and opened the door enough to scratch the dog’s chin. The dame must have enjoyed that because she started pawing for more. In all the towns, in all the places, why'd she have to follow me?
“I've seen her around. I think she belongs to Dr. West. But I’ve only seen her on occasion. I think I have his number, he lives just a few blocks that way. I'll get you the address.”
She disappeared and returned with the information. I tipped my hat to her. You’d think I had stolen her cat the way she looked at me. She closed the door without a goodbye, turning us back to the road. Back to the coming night.
“Let's jet,” I said. "There's much to do.”
“Can we get a Dairy Queen after this?”
“Not until we get paid.”
“We're doing this for free.”
“Then there's your answer.”
We walked along in silence, deciding not to call. The streets were bathed in the moonlight, but the trees and shrubs cast eerie shadows about. There could have been a thug around any corner, ready to snatch a purse or wallet. But not on my watch.
We came up to a flier posted on a telephone that had the dames picture on it. Her name was Irene, and she was dearly missed. The number didn't match up with the one the old woman had given us. Maybe the dame wasn't Dr. West's, after all.
“I don't want to give her back,” I blurted out. “I mean, we don’t know who these people are. Maybe she ran away.”
“That doesn’t matter. You have to.”
“Hear me out. We call them up and tell them we want a reward. If they don't pay it, they obviously don't love her as much as we do."
“You mean like a ransom? You want to hold her for ransom?”
To be fair, I was a little shocked by his accusation. It wasn’t a ransom. It was a test of their love and devotion. The kid was too soft to understand Solomon’s choice. Too green to understand that some things weren’t so black and white.
“We’re doing this,” I said, hoping he would get it when the time came.
I called the number and recognized the voice as soon as he answered. It was Dr. Tooth Hurty himself.
“Hello?”
“Yeah, we got your dog.”
There was a quiet mumbling on the other end. A woman with a shrill voice was elated at the news.
“Great. When can we come get her?”
“Is there a reward?”
“What? No, just our eternal gratitude.”
I thought about pressing the issue, but the dame looked up at me with those big brown eyes, and I knew I couldn't do it.
“We'll drop her off at your house then.”
“Um, no, no.” He kind of chuckled a little. There was obvious nervousness in his voice.
“We’re a block away. I can basically see your house from here.”
“No! I’ll meet you somewhere. Okay?”
“I’m staring at your front door. I’m about to ring the doorbell.”
“Don’t! I'll give you whatever you want. Just tell me how much, as long as we can meet somewhere.”
It dawned on me then what was going on, and a wry smile crept across my face. He hadn't told his wife he had lost the dame.
“Give us 100— No, 200 hundred bucks, and we won't take her to your wife.”
We met in the Dairy Queen parking lot. It was full of young kids, doping up and smoking acid after school. They were the losers, the burn outs, the dregs that society turned a blind eye on.
He pulled up in a fancy car. The kind my boss couldn't afford now that his business was in trouble. It made me angry watching him get out. He was just as handsome after work. The bastard.
“I recognize you,” he said. “You're the weirdo’s in my office earlier. Did you take her just to exploit me? How did you find out?”
He begrudgingly handed me two bills. I stuffed them in my pocket, before grabbing the dame from Tom. I hesitated for a moment, but handed her over. He was about to say something when we heard a loud voice. His face went white.
“Howard?”
A heavy-set woman with large arms dropped her bag of food and ice cream cone before she came storming up.
“That fucking dog again? I knew you were still cheating on me! Where is she? I'll kill her.”
The dame jumped from his arms and I picked her up. We all took off as Mrs. Dr. West, smacked him around. He yelled out for us to stop, but she got him good in the mouth. I saw one of his perfect teeth hit the ground. I had to wonder if he knew what time it was then.
As we walked down the street towards home, I turned to Tom and said, “It’s like I always say, the ‘tooth’ really does always come out.”
End.