A Not So Natural Boy

An adventurous young boy, has an encounter with an old man. An old man who may know things about him that have not been yet explained,

"What did Mr Eggstaff say to you Ben?"

"I'm 5, I was walking down the road when Mr Essaf wanned to talk to me."

He was a grim old man with lines of death running down his face accompanying his blonde, thin, streaky hair which he had long begun losing so long ago it seemed like he was finished, the same could not be said for his unkept and yellowing beard, and piercing blue eyes . Never thought much of him, but one afternoon into night, dusts and small sand rocks paved the road in the tan city. as the sun took with it all that was, present. The old man seemed very much a part of the town, as all turned from yellow to gray. I walked as I often would, down the road. On the way past his house before suddenly hearing a coarse lullaby from the old man, I had no intention of doing anything more than exploring to where my small feet would take me, so immediately this aligned with my plans and I was sold.

I walked toward the doorstep and grew the odd feeling that fright was just beyond the man that stood before me, a piece of candy, I held out my hand for what seemed like forever, when in a flash he grabbed the open wrist of my open palm, asked to see the other, I showed him the small adolescent hand then he paused a moment before dropping the candy in my hand with hesitation and unease. It was jawbreaker that sat what only onlookers would describe as uncomfortable in my small face with its gigantic nature, but I was content, because I loved sneaking jawbreakers, especially since my mom wouldn't let me have them very often.

I feel its important to mention that I hadn't taken time yet to begin to feel insecure about the length of my index finger, nearing the end of middle school my classmates saw to that changing. Still as a twenty-one year old, every so often, I find myself remembering as someone stares at my hand for a long period of time or asks a stupid question.

But that night Mr. Eggstaff didn't ask any questions, I remember it vividly. He seemed less happy that I had come by, I felt as though he imagined that I had stolen the candy from him. What if this whole thing was to tell my mom and get me in trouble? Uh oh.

Noticing my fear he gave me another and told me to "Put that one in your pocket champ" with emotionless eyes, I had put it in my right pocket of my overalls and figured now was a good a time as any to walk around with both hands in my pocket like they do on tv and sat down on the tall couch in septicemic accomplishment, swinging the shoes on my feet in pendulum motion. Happy as a clam.

Then the ground begins to shake, I shudder in fear and Mr. Egstaff looks at me all the while low browed with his spotted, varicose, hands crossed at the wrist, calmly. How can he be okay when there is surely imminent terror in the forthcoming seconds. The trembling in the floor grows then I identify scratching at the floor with every pound of the large claws. The sound of them coming at me far too qickly to react, but what would I do. It was coming for me, it was big. Terrified I turn to my left and my face went white. There is a black lion headed straight for me with its mouth agape. My heart went from the top of my neck and took a plunge, to the pit of my stomach. I clutched the inside of my pockets and felt the warmth of my inner thighs build up as though hands hovering gently over a fire, looking down at the growing puddle, I had wet myself, but I had not reminded myself about the more important matter at hand. I looked back to my left and there it was, a giant mammoth of a black and brown beast, silvery lines of drool oozed from its mouth. Its hot, heavy breath hung through the air as it pulsated heat waves through my face to the back of my slink neck. Yellowish ooze crawling its way out of its dark brown eyes behind folds of skin and a thick coat on to blacked out fur. It let out a gruff that shook the skin of his lower mandible. Horrified I had forgotten the man who had led me to this early death was in the room. I look over and he is there still slinked over with his hands crossed as though nothing had changed with the eyes of a beaming blue laser. I turn my head back and soon vow to never look away from  this beast ever again. Finding its muzzle centimeters away from my face sniffing quickly at me. The air in each passing becoming more and more fragile. I wanted my mother so badly but if I screamed that perhaps the beast would eat me quicker. I was stuck with fear. The terrorized state had begun to make me cry, a small with tightened eyed whimper somehow knowing Mr Eggstaff was still there, just as ready to watch my head be bitten off right before his eyes.

Then I felt a nuzzle from what felt like a large wet cold napkin, followed by a ticklish velvet glove dipped in slime of a tongue across the majority of my face and sliding over my nose. Something like a dog. Wait? I opened my eyes to another lapping slide of the giant tongue across my face and began to recognize, maybe this was a dog I was looking at?

How much it tickled and realizing that it wasnt a giant monster brought a smile to my face and I saw after a lighter, continuous pant of breath, its giant coats hairs whisping in the air. It was a dog. I loved dogs and dogs had seemed to like me in majority. I put my hand up to pet the giant lion and was pleased to see the giant was playful. He sniffed at the crescent of darkness across my crotch a while then with a giant harmonic thud laid its two front claws in front of him, lowering his body in front and back of me.

"Tibetan Mastiff, one of the oldest dogs there is." said Mr Eggstaff

Well how old is he I wondered

I turned to reply this before being taken off guard again by his hand at my eye holding a skinny metal silver tube. 

*Click*

He peered into my pried open eyes with a thin silver flashlight, I remember seeing something that bright before, I had just my eyes checked and there were a bunch of tests just so they could tell me I had 20/80 vision. Some people tried to come by the room with microphones like on tv, I wanted to tell them about the turtle I had earlier made of play doh but I remember being slightly dissapointed that my father wouldn't let me. I worked hard on that turtle. I suppose Mr. Eggstaff had caught wind of the occurance. 

By this time I was familiar with the routine but had forgotten to not look directly into the light.

It burned so I squint for a moment

"Look up boy"

He said impatiently.

When I opened my eye looking up, within that second. Mr. Eggstaff now had terror in his face, he was taken back and I was confused. The giant Bear-Lion was still sitting happily and looking around the room, panting away.

Then he swore something under his breath that I repeated for weeks, "Well I'll be damned". He continued in an introverted monologuewhich I could hardly make out muttering,"...too young to survive the change, how?". Moments passed as he hurried to a book at a desk flipping quickly through what looked like pictures, this excited me. I got up from playing with the fur covered gargoyle and proceeded over. I walked toward the desk with my eyes fixated on something mangled, with earthy and red colors, I had no clue what I was looking at but the book was filled with them. Mr. Eggstaff met me with cold eye, unnaturally swift for the old man. I was immediately scolded then he stilled himself a bit before asking me with short breath, 

"You ain't been bit by any dogs lately have you boy?".

"Ben!" I heard my mother calling for my whereabouts of the small town. Instantly the dog, Mr. Eggstaff, and I were all in alerted terror. "Time to come in Ben!" she said.

Then a thunder in which i had never heard shook my head with a "WOOF!" deep and long right next to my ear.

I was taken off balance but hopped to my small feet. Walking to the front door, I looked back to Mr. Eggstaff and he was still visibly shaken, I had no time to ask why so concluded with a "Bye Mr. Esstaff, Bye Doggie!" Then opened the front door.

My mother stood down the road and saw me exiting the old mans house and asked "what was that noise, and what were you doing in there?" 

"Wanted him to meet Seri, Mz. Elhers, little fella got mighty frightened and had a little tip over, I reckon he's alright though."

"Oh jeez Ben, now I have to get you in a change of clothes, and you're cutting it way too close to your bedtime mister."

"He has a nice Monster Doggie mommy." I exclaimed

to which she quickly replied "Monster Doggie or not its time for you to get in the damn house." She hardly cursed at me but was frazzled by the experience, this didnt stop me from crying and we quickly walked home with her hand at my wrist down the old dirt road. 

See, my mother had an odd feeling of the man from the time we moved to the neighborhood. It didnt help that word slowly after this incident a rumor got to her of an odd past. Of course, nothing good comes from an old mans past coming into question, but this particular rumor was that Mr. Jonathan Eggstaff was once a member of a death squad in his younger days, a deathsquad of werewolves. 

Now as a toddler running around peeing in my overalls without a second thought, this didnt matter very much to me when i had heard the same rumor in broken english at my elementary school. But now, now is a different story.

I looked back as my mother pulled me by my arm to see a look of worried concentration on Mr. Eggstaff's face. but all of the trip was not lost.

I had made a new friend, a friend in which I wasn't allowed to see for the next 16 years.

Author's Note

Open to criticisms. Thank you for reading.

Reviews

[Alleyway Rover]

I like the pacing and the length and scope of this story. This strikes me as a story that can be told at this scale. May seem kind of a weird thing to notice, but this was always a problem I had writing short stories, I would (ands still do sometimes) always dream up situations that couldn’t be told in under 10,000 words.

Not sure I follow exactly what the conflict is or where the story ends up. I feel like you’re kind of all over the place talking about things that really aren’t important to the story and leaving out other parts that are fundamentally crutial.

I’d like to talk about your characters. I think, in the process, I’ll end up touching on the other issues that I see.

Ben:
Five year old boy and narrorator speaking from sixteen years in the future.

My big question when it comes to Ben is, why is he telling me this story? I imagine if he is telling me about something that happened to him when he was five, it would be one of those life-changing experiences. But I’m not seeing exactly what that is right here.

Furthermore I’m missing the key elements of the character in the story
Motivation: This could be a desire for adventure or natural curiosity, but if that’s the case I think you could bring that out a little more and show me the child acting this way a little more.
Goal: No idea here. It’s not really the child’s curiousity that draws him into the house… it’s has more to do with a stranger with candy.
Conflict: Again, not sure. What prevents him from acheiving his goal?
Epiphany: What does the boy learn from his experience? This is doubly important because it’s got to justify why he’s telling the story so many years later.

Mr. Eggstaff:
Same questions for him regarding Motivation, Goals, Conflict and Epiphany.
Motivation: What drives him to meet with the boy?
Goal: It seems to be to actually meet the boy and examine his eyes... though I'm not sure why.
Conflict: None really, he acomplishes his goal with almost no problems.
Epiphany: There is one, but it's not written. He just looks terrified for a moment and sends him home.

That, I feel is a big part of the story that is missing. What did he see in the child's eyes that was so disturbing?

I would start by answering those questions for yourself and using them to guide you as you continue to refine this piece.

Hope there was something useful in this kind of wandering review.

Cheers