Josh Roseman - The Clockwork Russian and Other Stories

“Almost sunset,” Ricky said. “You sure this is going to work?”

“It has to,” Lee said, and Sam barked. “Otherwise we’re going to spend the rest of the summer teaching Rex how to be a human.”

“Dog,” Rex said. “Sam human. Rex good dog.”

“You’re a good dog, Rex.” Lee shifted from foot to foot, then checked her watch. “Come on, come on!”

The sun passed behind a cloud. The clubhouse grew dim. And then the wind started to blow.

Rex remembered that from last night. He ducked his head, covered it with his arms, and pushed up against Sam. “Good dog. Rex good dog. Sam good human.” He said it over and over, trying to convince himself that it wouldn’t be so bad this time. “Rex good dog. Sam good human.”

The wind howled through the clubhouse windows and Rex looked up, wishing he could howl too. “Rex good dog!” he screamed. “Rex good dog!”

Sam barked in response, and for just a moment Rex thought he could understand.

“Rex good dog!” The wind was loud enough to drown out his voice, and he barked with all his might. “Rex! Good! Dog!”

The clubhouse door slammed shut with a bang and Rex jumped to his feet.

And fell, tangled up in something. He kicked with all four paws to free himself and—

Four paws!

Rex looked up at Lee. Her bright clothes had dimmed, and — he took a deep breath — he could smell her. He could smell them all: the gum in Steven’s mouth, the dirt-and-grass smell of Ricky, the wood of the clubhouse, and… and Sam! Rex turned toward the smell and saw Sam on the floor. He practically jumped on his human, licking his face, and Sam dug his fingers into the fur on Rex’s neck and shoulders. “Good boy, Rex,” Sam said. Rex barked in his face and Sam laughed. “Good boy.”

Sam and Lee sat next to each other, backs against a huge tree by the lake. They took turns throwing a tennis ball for Rex, who bolted after it, happy to be on all four paws, happy to be playing with his human. He smelled something new about Sam, smelled it stronger than ever when he was close to Lee. And Lee had a new scent too.

Rex tore after the ball yet again as it sailed toward the lake. He ran up onto a rock and soared, knowing instinctively where the ball would land, knowing he would reach it quickly once he hit the water.

But someone yelled Sam’s name, and Rex lost his balance and tumbled. Ball forgotten, he swam back to shore.

Terry was there, with two other humans, both of them bigger than Sam. Rex didn’t recognize their smells, but he could tell Sam and Lee were scared.

No, that wasn’t right. Lee was scared, but Sam… Sam was angry. Angrier than Rex had ever smelled him. Rex dropped his belly to the ground and crawled forward slowly.

“Don’t be stupid, Terry,” Sam was saying. “What would you prove by beating me up?”

Terry laughed. “You deserve it. You both do,” he said, looking in Rex’s direction. Rex stopped moving until Terry turned away, back toward his human. “Your stupid girlfriend really can do magic, and your stupid dog hit me, and you bit me, and now everything’s supposed to be fine again?”

Rex was close enough to smell the ham sandwich Terry had had for lunch.

“Just go, please,” Lee said. Her voice wasn’t steady; Rex thought she might want to howl, if she knew how. “You made your point.” She grabbed Sam’s arm. “You win. We’re scared!”

“I was going to steal my dad’s rifle,” Terry said. “Then I really would’ve scared you.”

Sam’s heart began beating faster — Rex heard it. He wasn’t sure why, so he inhaled slowly, trying to smell it out. That was when he caught some new scents on the wind. Familiar scents.

“Okay, fine,” Sam said. “You really want to fight me? Then come and get me!”

“Ha!” Terry took a step closer to Sam — and Rex. “Last time, I kicked your ass. Think it’ll be any different?”

Sam’s hands curled into fists. “Try me.”

“Sam,” Lee said, “you don’t have to do this.”

“Just get back,” Sam said. “Yell if those guys try to cheat.”

“I won’t need them,” Terry said. He raised his fists; Sam flinched, and Terry began to laugh.

The laugh became a shout as Rex leaped forward, digging his jaws into Terry’s heel, hard enough that hot blood dripped onto his tongue. Terry shouted and tried to pull away, but Rex didn’t let go. He growled, and bit, and hung on as Terry tried to kick at him. But Rex came from ancestors who had to avoid much bigger and stronger animals than humans, and he easily stayed out of Terry’s way.

Then there was a crunch, and a thud, and Terry collapsed to the ground, hands between his legs. Rex let him go and saw Sam shaking his right fist.

“What are you waiting for?” Terry asked, groaning, clutching his crotch, blood on his lip. “Get him!”

The other humans came closer, and Sam started to smell afraid. Rex barked a couple of times, then bared his teeth. If only Sam or Lee knew what he knew, or smelled what he smelled.

Then they all heard it: the booming bark made by only one dog in the entire neighborhood.

Bull.

The other humans jumped back, looking around. “Where is he?” one asked. “Where’d that come from?”

“Right here, buttheads!” Ricky and Bull trotted up the path, followed by Steven. Bull’s large paws padded silently on the grass. “You want some?”

“Hell no!” The human looked at Terry, who’d managed to get up onto his knees. “I’m not messing with that dog, Terry. No way.”

“Me neither!”

“Fine!” Terry didn’t look back as his friends ran off into the woods. “I’m not scared of a stupid dog!”

Ricky’s hand went to Bull’s collar and unhooked his leash. Bull barked again, and Rex let out several barks of his own. Then Bull stepped up beside Rex, both dogs staring at Terry. Not growling, not showing teeth; just daring him to try and hurt their humans.

Terry looked away first. He stood up and backed off. “This isn’t over,” he said. “Someday, you won’t have your dogs to hide behind. Someday, Sam!” He turned and limped away.

Sam laughed, a little nervously, and dropped the rock. “Thanks, guys,” he said. “Just in time.”

“I saw Terry heading this way with his friends,” Steven said. “I got Ricky and we came as fast as we could.”

Sam nodded and called Rex over. He dug his fingers into the fur behind Rex’s ears and gave him a good scratch. “Good boy, Rex.” He looked at the other dog, so much bigger than Rex was. “Good boy, Bull,” he called. Then he saw Lee, holding a tree branch. “You okay?”

Lee set the branch on the ground. “I would’ve hit him if I had to.” She kicked it out of the way, and Bull took that as an invitation to play. “Oh, no, Ricky. I’m not letting him drag me around!”

Ricky laughed and grabbed the other end of the branch, and he and Steven went to work on wrestling it out of Bull’s jaws.

Sam looked down at Rex. “Good boy,” he said again.

Rex rubbed his side against Sam’s leg, tail wagging. He felt kind of bad about biting a human, but Sam had needed his help. If he got in trouble, it wouldn’t matter.

Because Sam was happy. And when his human was happy, Rex was a happy dog.

And now more than ever he was happy to just be a dog.

“A Dog and His Boy” was my entry into the Dunesteef ’s second broken mirror story event. The prompt was “a child is named king but discovers that it’s not just a game”, and since Rex means king, I decided to write a story about a boy who becomes a dog and a dog who becomes a boy. The story didn’t win, and has never before been published, but I still liked it, mostly because I always wanted to be able to turn into a dog when I was a kid.