Fetch - A Short Story

in #story7 years ago (edited)

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No, Burton was never declared legally mentally retarded. He couldn’t qualify for disability. But he was just, slow, you know? Just not, well, slow enough. It’s that almost-there-but-just-not-quite-enough kind of place that can be the absolute worst place to be, and for Burton, he just wasn’t quite slow enough. It’s a shame really.

When you think about it, what’s worse—last place? Or second?

So Burton has to get a job, right? And where does he go to find one? Well, everywhere. But when you’re as, well, let’s say as underdeveloped as Burton is, no one wants to hire you. And so he finds one on craigslist. It’s a dog-walking job. What could go wrong, right?

Wrong.

So his mother, she tells him all about how she just doesn’t know about this job. She tells him craigslist isn’t always the safest way to find things. She tells him how anyone can post anything on that site, and that it’s just not a good idea. Really though, she knows he lacks the intelligence—common sense, even—and just doesn’t want him to work.

The thing is, Burton usually listens to his mother’s advice. She is, after all, one of his only friends.

But, Burton, he does it anyway. Maybe this is a breakthrough moment for him, to prove her wrong for once, to show her he’s independent, that he’s a man. Maybe one day he’ll be able to pay for his own apartment. What he says out loud is I’m a man, Damn it. So he calls the phone number.

The woman who answers, she says Prancing Puppies! We make your dogs dance! How can I help you?
And what do they do? Well, they hire him. Even if it is because they’ll hire just about anyone, still, they hire him. And they tell him he starts Monday. Don’t forget to bring a leash, they say. Don’t forget now.

It’s just not a good idea. But, for someone as dumb as Burton, what is a good idea?

Sunday night, Burton makes a sandwich. It’s ham and cheese. It’s tomorrow’s lunch. Then he sits down and watches his favorite television show, Two and a Half Men. But, he can’t stop thinking about that sandwich. So what does he do? Well, he eats the sandwich.

Then he takes a bath and goes to sleep.

Monday morning he pours himself some Fruit Loops and calls his mother. She asks him if he’s excited for his first day at his new job. She tells him to be careful. She tells him she loves him.

Burton puts on a pair of size 34 khakis and a blue-and-white-checkered button up shirt. He calls Prancing Puppies to ask where his first appointment will be. The woman on the phone, she tells him it’s for Mrs. Henderson. She tells him the poodle’s name is Bartholomew, and not Bart. She tells him Fourty-Two Winding Way, Nine-o’clock. Don’t be late!

So Burton, he pulls out his bus schedule and follows his index finger until he reads Winding Way and arrival and 8:45. Perfect, he thinks. He’s just about out the door, when he realizes he’s forgetting something. Then he makes a ham and cheese sandwich. That sure would have stunk, he thinks.

At the bus stop, there’s a girl. What she’s wearing are leather boots, black and red-striped leggings, a leather jacket. She’s smoking a Marlboro light. She’s sitting on the bench. And Burton, he sits next to her.

She’s friendly to Burton, but she’s sarcastic about it. She’s, you know, humoring herself. And being a bitch.

Burton starts to tell her about his new job, then he stops. Oh no, oh no, he says. I forgot the leash, he tells her.

Well, the girl, she tells him how he could always go to the store across the street. She tells him how she’s sure they sell leashes. Top quality, too. She tells him he probably has enough time before the bus comes. He can’t thank her enough.

The store, it’s called The Pleasure Chest.

When Burton walks in, he’s a little confused. He tries to ignore what he’s seeing, when a big black woman asks him if she can help him. He explains to her about the girl. She was smoking one of those cigarettes, he says. She told me I could find a leash here, he says. Do you sell leashes, he asks. What he tells her is that he really needs one, and quick.

What happens is she starts asking him questions. She’s asking him about personal preferences: colors, sizes, fuzzies, not-fuzzies, stretchables, chokers, chains, ropes, spikes, no spikes, firm, flexible. Then he cuts her off.

Listen, he says. I just don’t know what you’re talking about. I just need a leash for Bartholomew. Quick, he says. I can’t be late.
She raises an eyebrow, studies him a bit, you know? Then asks: Bartholomew? Oh, well, why didn’t you just say so? I’ve got just the thing, she says. What she does is she turns around, kneels under the counter, and digs through a box. What she pulls out is a package that reads “The Accommodator.” This should do the trick, she says.

And Burton, he just says okay, whatever you say. He just really needs to go.

Then the black woman, she laughs. I bet you do, she says. You go have fun with Bartholomew, she tells him. He pays her and runs back over to the bus stop, barely catching the bus. She shakes her head, smiling.

On the bus, Burton sits next to a woman, seventies maybe. What he does next is he smiles, he puts out his hand, and he says I’m Burton. The woman is quick to judge. What she does is she readjusts herself in her seat, you know, so as to look the other way, you know, so as to ignore the big dumb guy who sat next to her, you know, so as to say I’m not interested in talking to this scoundrel.

I’ve got a leash from The Pleasure Chest, he tells her. I’m going to use it on Bartholomew, he says. Then I’m going to eat my ham sandwich. I’m on my way there now, he says.

That’s nice.

Oh, I just can’t wait, he says. I haven’t met Bartholomew yet. But I found out about all this because of an ad on craigslist. They’re going to pay me ten dollars every time I do it. They told me to bring a leash. I can’t believe I almost forgot to bring a leash, he says.

The older woman readjusts herself, you know, so as to really, really, look the other direction.

And get this. A boy wearing a black turtleneck shirt sitting behind them overhears the whole conversation. His face, it’s beet-red. And get this. He fucking faints.

Okay hold on, lets back up a bit.

So, come to find out, Bartholomew isn’t just the name of Mrs. Henderson’s pretty little poodle. Bartholomew also happens to be the name of a well known, infamous even, figure in Chicago’s gay community. What he’s well known for, though, isn’t the prettiest of things. He hires boys to, well, treat him disrespectfully, to put it nicely.

And our friend Freddy on the bus, he’s just fainted because he had his only little casual encounter with Bartholomew just last week. And get this, he found Bartholomew on craigslist. The encounter, though, wasn’t what Freddy expected.

The ad, it was listed under Male to Male. The subject read Lonely Friday. The text, it said:

Hi there  I’m looking for a friend. Nothing serious, maybe dinner 
and some casual conversation. No one likes to be alone. 
Email me with a picture and a little about yourself. 
Oh, and put your favorite pant-cut style as the subject line 
so I know you’re not a scammer. 
(Mines straight-leg, bootcut)  Talk soon!         

And so Freddy thought to himself that, you know, well, he seems nice. So he sent him an email. His subject line read Loose Fit, and his text said:

Hey, my name’s Freddy. What’s yours? You’re right. No one 
likes to be alone. I sure don’t. Especially on Friday night. 
You know, big whoop, it’s just a day, right? I don’t know. 
Something about it just hurts, I’m sure you know what 
I mean. 

Anyway, a little about myself. I’m twenty-three, 
dirty-blonde hair, brown eyes, and skinny, as you 
can see in my picture . I work as a barista at 
Be Grounded Coffee. I don’t go to college because 
I think it’s a big waste of money. I prefer to gain 
my knowledge from interesting people and 
interesting experiences. Speaking of which, 
maybe you should tell me a little about yourself. 
A picture would be nice too. Take care, give care!  

Freddy

And within ten minutes, Freddy had a response.

Hey Freddy, thanks for responding! You’re really 
cute! I love the shirt you’re wearing in that picture. 
Is it J. Crew? Because I totally think I saw that same 
exact one when I was shopping there just a few days 
ago. Oh my god I got the cutest little sweater. 

Any who, my name’s Bartholomew. My friends 
call me Bartsy. 
I’ve attached a picture of me, hope you like it! 

And so one email led to another, and Freddy ended up going over to Bartholomew’s apartment for dinner. When he got there, though, Bartholomew didn’t quite look like the man in the picture he sent. Freddy didn’t say anything right away, though. He didn’t want to be rude, you know? Freddy was a loose fit kind of guy, after all. You know, non-confrontational. Easy going. Relaxed.

So Bartholomew had ordered Chinese food, and plenty of it. And the two of them sat there, eating Chinese food, getting to know each other. Even though Bartholomew looked like he was in his forties and dressed like he was in a bad eighties cover band, Freddy didn’t mind after all. He even thought it was kind of cute.

So what did they do? They sat down on Bartsy’s couch to watch some Eddy Izzard. And that’s when shit went down. Bartsy started talking about some weird shit. Like, really weird shit. Like, kinky, I-pay-you-to-gag-me-and-whip-me isn’t even close to this kind of weird shit. The kind of shit Freddy didn’t sign up for. The kind of shit Bartsy’s picture, and the shopping at J. Crew, and all the smiley faces didn’t ever even hint at.

So Freddy tried to get out of there. He told Bartsy he just remembered he forgot to feed his cat, that he had to go now.
But Bartsy wouldn’t have it. He grabbed Freddy and pulled him back onto the couch. He forcefully kissed him and licked him and grabbed him while Freddy demanded for him to stop. But Bartsy wouldn’t. He told Freddy to fuck him. Freddy started to fight his way out. And that’s when Bartsy did it. That when Bartsy bit him on the neck. Hard.

And when Freddy started screaming, Bartsy let him go.

And Freddy, he spent the rest of his evening at the police station, filling out reports.

So now that you’re up to speed, let’s hop back on that bus.

So our friend Freddy has just fainted from hearing Burton’s conversation about Bartholomew with the hag. The bus driver, he stops the bus. After a few moments, Freddy comes to, stands up, and approaches the now incredibly concerned Burton and the not-too-interested Hag Woman.

He tells Burton to look. He tells Burton he doesn’t know who he is, but that he should stay the fuck away from Bartholomew.
Now Burton, he’s puzzled. He asks why on earth he would want to do such a thing. He tells him that he really needs the money. He tells Freddy that it’s just a dog. How bad can it be, he asks.

Freddy pulls his turtleneck collar down aggressively and shows Burton the marks. He tells him, Yeah, he is a fucking dog. He fucking bit me, that’s why.

And Old Hag, she has had just about enough of all of this hullaballoo. She huffs and she puffs.

And then Freddy tells Burton that Bartholomew wanted Freddy to fuck him.

What’s funny is Old Hag Woman, she doesn’t know Bartholomew is a dog, or a homosexual sex-slave. She just doesn’t know. And Freddy thinks the kinky leash is for the kinky sex-slave. And Burton thinks the haggard bite mark on Freddy is from a dog that he’s about to walk and that tried to have sex with Freddy. And the girl from the bus stop, well I just don’t know. She’s humored. I guess. Bitch.

Freddy, he pulls the rope, you know, to stop the bus. The bus comes to a stop and Freddy gets off, still beet-red in the face, shaking his head furiously. And Bus Stop Girl, she tells Burton, nice job, retard, and gets off too.

So Burton, he just doesn’t know what to do. But he feels bad. So he grabs his lunchbox and the bag from The Pleasure Chest, tells Hag Woman (who is entirely confused and therefore rather appalled) to have a nice day, and he gets off, too.

Wait, Burton asks them. But they have already started walking, and want nothing to do with the big dumb guy. They simply ignore him.

He starts walking faster. He checks his wristwatch. Oh no, he thinks, I’m going to be late to Miss Henderson’s, he thinks.
And get this. As Bus Stop Girl and Freddy are walking away, they share a cigarette. And get this. Bus Stop Girl, what she doesn’t know she’s getting from sharing this cigarette with Freddy, is something she will never ever be able to get rid of no matter how hard she ever tries. Bitch had it coming.

When Burton finally finds his way to Mrs. Henderson’s house, he steps in for a quick meet and greet with her and Bartholomew. Then he asks to use the bathroom. She tells him of course he can. She tells Bartholomew that Burton seems like a nice fellow, and to be a good boy while she’s gone. While Burton is washing up, he wonders if he should bring up what happened to Freddy. He’s frightened that Bartholomew may try to bite him, too, or even worse, try to have sex with him. But he thinks about his mother. He doesn’t want to be sent home, jobless again, another failed attempt at being part of the real world. Another failed attempt at being a man, damn it. He decides not to ask Mrs. Henderson after all. That’s when Mrs. Henderson hollers to him that she is off to run some errands. She tells him to take good care of Bartholomew, and that she’ll see him next time. Oh, and to tell Lisa at Prancing Puppies she says hello!

And that’s when Burton pulls out The Accommodator. He eyes it, trying to figure out how he’s going to get it on the dog. He turns it over and over and he just doesn’t understand the ball gag.

So he rips it off.

He attaches the leash to Bartholomew and takes him for a nice stroll down Winding Way.

Back at the Henderson home, Burton takes the ball (gag) and throws it to Bartholomew. Bartholomew fetches it and brings it back. Burton and Bartholomew play ball for quite some time. That woman was right, Burton thinks, this was the perfect thing for Bartholomew. He loves it!

And when Miss Henderson comes back from her errands, what she sees is Burton and Bartholomew, new best friends, sitting on the front stoop, sex-leash and ball-gag to their side, sharing the ham and cheese sandwich Burton had brought for them.

Thank you for reading.

If you enjoy my original writing, paintings, and/or music, please be sure to follow me here.

-CTS

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HAAAHHAAAaaaaahahaha this is amazing!!

Thanks Savy! I had a lot of fun writing it!

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