Chapter 10.
The kitchen was a little noisier than usual. Chuck made a beeline for the refrigerator, which was not unusual. He foraged through the shelves like a caveman who’d missed the kill. Lenny’s daughter, Bunny, was screaming at her mother, Muffy. Muffy tried to calm her down. It was just another hysterical episode in their daily soap opera. My family carried on with their regular routines, like it was a loud TV show playing in the background, that nobody was actually watching.
“Look, look it’s rejecting me. It’s rejecting me. My chin is rejecting me,” Bunny yelled, pinching the tip of her chin.
Her high-pitched screams filled the room and hurt my ears but I wanted her to feel better. I reared up and put my paws on her lap. Most of her face was covered in bandages but I could see that she struggled to smile. She ruffled my ears gently and hugged me. I could smell dried blood and antiseptic cream, coming from behind the heavy mask of bandages. I could never understand how some of my kind could become cadaver dogs. I was ok with the scent of drugs or explosives but definitely not human bodies – I always hated the smell of human blood. And forget about dead bodies. Explosives dogs are crazy but cadaver dogs are just plain creepy – I never liked any dogs from the zombie squad.
“Sweetie, I’ve eaten or served up rejection with millet every day of my life,” Muffy said. “It’s a process, Doctor Tranh is like a sculptor and this is the first stage of his masterpiece.”
“First stage? It looks hideous. I’m a monster.”
“You’re not a monster. You’re perfection in progress,” Muffy said re-assuredly.
“From where I’m sitting, if I was to be honest, you do have a little Jay Leno going on,” Dallas joked, from behind his Fruit Loops, cereal box.
“Don’t be an asshole to your sister,” Muffy snapped. “That’s not a nice thing to say. She’s under a lot of stress. You might be needing some work yourself in a few years. Those teen years are closing out.”
Dallas peered over his cereal. His full mouth hung open. Milk dribbled down his chin back into the bowl.
“Gee thanks Mom, maybe you could take me out for some beers and Botox shots for my next birthday,” he said.
Muffy held her hands up like she had said nothing wrong. She peered into one of Bunny’s three strategically placed mirrors. Bunny turned and twisted her head into her multiple reflections to get the best view.
Minnie stole into the kitchen and dealt a slab of meatloaf to Chuck. She also gave a little piece to me. She offered some on a plate to Bunny. Minnie always seemed to appear when a situation needed to be diffused – even if her only weapon, was a very tasty looking meatloaf.
“Have some meatloaf child, there isn’t a pick of fat on you,” she said. She looked to Muffy and said, “You know men like to have something to hang on to.”
Bunny recoiled. “Thanks Minnie but I forgot my i-defibulator. Meatloaf eeeeuuch. Gross. Eyeballs and tongues. Ewwww. Fat, just fat. Gross. I can like, hear my arteries hardening just thinking about it.”
Minnie looked to Chuck, who was gobbling down a generous slice, like a hungry German Shepherd. I couldn’t stop thinking about more meatloaf. It was delicious. I begged Minnie for more with my eyes and a soft whimper – I knew how to work the look. Even though she knew I was working her, she cut me off another piece.
“What’s she talking about?”
“I think she’s fat shaming your meatloaf, Grandma,” he mumbled with a stuffed face.
“Kids today. Pah, in my day a bit of meat on your bones had the men queuing up with their napkin and spoon.”
Muffy grimaced. “Nice image Minnie. Fat people rolling around on the floor having sex, tugging on each other’s muffin tops, trying to find each other’s bits.”
“I like a lady who’s a little on the shapely size myself,” Chuck declared. “I’m not talkin’ ten ton Tessies here but none of this skin and bone look. It’s not healthy you know. Just not healthy.”
“We can quote you on that I presume,” Muffy growled. “Speaking of tons, you look like you’ve been slapping on a few Chuck.”
Chuck slapped his belly with both hands. It made a loud smacking noise.
“Hey, I’m a stuntman, the only six-pack I need comes out of a bottle. This here, is natural padding to break my fall.”
“Sounds like you might need more meatloaf after that last stunt of yours out on San Fernando. And your stunts might be on a hiatus for a while,” Muffy said.
“A minor setback,” Chuck said. “And stuntmen don’t do hiatuses. By the way who told you about that?”
“Some friends at lunch showed it to me on their phone. It was quite embarrassing to be honest.”
Minnie glared up from behind her 1984 Polish fashion magazine.
“You’re looking very tailored yourself Muffy,” Minnie said. “New diet or doctor?”
Muffy did her best to frown but since meeting Doctor Tranh, her frowning days, were long over.
“You know Doctor Tranh could do wonders with your neck,” she said.
“I prefer being able to move it,” Minnie said.
“I thought I could smell meatloaf,” Rufus said, barreling into the kitchen like a Bloodhound following a scent. “Minnie, I hope you haven’t been feeding too much meatloaf to Chumley, he’s got a big day tomorrow. He doesn’t want to be too farty on his first day of ‘Office Dog’.”
“He might get fired for causing a gas leak,” Dallas joked.
Minnie lowered her magazine. “Murray got the contract ironed out with Chumley and this Office thing?” Minnie asked.
“Yes, Murray and I swung a pretty good deal if it all goes ahead. But the first two weeks will be just a trial,” Rufus said
“Back at Pete’s Printing Rufe, for the interim?” Dallas asked.
Rufus shrugged and stretched out his jaded t-shirt that read, ‘Pete’s Printers Do It Better’. He gave me the last of his meatloaf and wiped his hands on his shirt. “Drudgery pays bills too. Let’s hope something happens with this Office Dog thing. I might be able to stroke a gig as Chumley’s assistant or something,” Rufus said. “But what of you young man? What does the world serve up to you on your plate?”
“The usual audition stuff. One’s a reality show thing with five girls and five guys trying to survive on Vancouver island. It’s called ‘Bridge Over the River Joy’. Also got a teen drama. It’s a kind of Buffy meets House meets CSI vibe. I’m hopeful.”
“That’s a lot of meetings,” Rufus said. “A word from the wise Dallas my boy, if you manage to nuzzle past the bottom feeders and amateurs and you get to suckle on the sweet teat of success, then bite down hard and don’t let go til you’ve bled it dry.”
“I’ll remember that one Rufus,” Dallas said feigning interest.
Everyone in the family had to earn – we weren’t the Brady Bunch of Hollywood. We were grafters. Hustlers and grafters. And that’s what I liked about them. Outside of looking after each other, morals were low. We all sank or swam together. If one of the family wasn’t earning then the other had to carry their load, but only for a while or serious questions would be asked. We did it to survive.
“Hey Max, I saw Walt over at the retirement home earlier,” Chuck said, waking Max from one of his lengthy naps.
“Hmm? Walt? What was that hack up to? Still pulling rats from hats?”
“I think his act is going ok, but you know his son?”
“Son?”
“Yeah the comic. He’s in Vegas pulling in three thousand bucks a week. A few blocks off the strip.”
“Comic my ass. These comics today don’t know a punch-line from a punch in the schmalzonies. Probably doing twenty minutes telling gags about women’s privates and men’s tackle. Pussy this, cock that. In my day, we’d do a two hour stint and break for lunch and be back on. That was Vaudeville baby.”
Max always slipped into a state of melancholia when ever he spoke about the good old days. All his family knew he missed it more than anything but no one really wanted to see a grown man miming someone with a wheelbarrow, while doing a funny walk anymore.
“They don’t make ‘em like they used to,” Chuck said. “Golden years.”
“You betcha kid.”
He slipped back into yet another nap.
“I think we need to get you to bed Chums,” Rufus said, bribing me with another finger sized piece of meatloaf. It didn’t take much to bribe me – food and sleep were my two favourite things.