Short Story
I had to write a short story for Creative writing. Everyone else in the class has had a week already to prepare. I did not...but I still think I did a good job.
So this is it, pretty close to the end product, if not the finished product itself. Comments would be appreciated! mischief_86 I think you'll...react most to this story.
When the door opened and the red face of a familiar patient stepped into Dr. Rosamund’s office, Rosamund knew exactly what Mr. Connors would demand. Each week when he opened Rosamund‘s plain office door, his face became redder, and his requests became demands.
“I will not have my kids living in an iron cage” Mr. Connors barked, pounding upon the top of the physician’s desk. The pens and pencils rattled in coffee mugs not were not already filled with cold coffee. The sound sent a bit more pain into the physician’s head.
“Mr. Connors, calm down. Scientist are working very hard to find a cure, but things take time to-”
Connors interrupted, fist pounding on the table again. “No! I didn’t come back from the war to let my kids become god-damned cripples. I won‘t sit back and do nothing. I won’t!” Polio was a fixed edition to the news on the TV and radio now, and Robert Connors did not want his kids to end up crippled and living in Iron lungs.
“There are charities you can support, like the March of the Dimes-”
“Yes, what about all the god-damned dimes I sent to the white house? What exactly are they doing with my money? Wasting it away and laughing behind our backs!” Connors replied. He was sitting in the gray chair now, and it creaked with age and with the weight. Dr. Rosamund gave an audible sigh. Of all the patients worrying about Polio, Mr. Connors was the most persistent as well as the most intimidating.
“Look Robert, there hasn’t been anything official yet, but there are drugs that are being tested right now. Things are looking promising, pretty soon there could be a vaccine-”
“There are drugs out now?” Robert cut in. “ Why haven’t you told me? Where are these drugs? Lewis and Bobby could have been safe by now, and you’ve just been sitting there telling me to god-damn wait?!” Another fist slammed on the table, and a mug rolled off the desk and onto the steel gray carpet below. The physician gave another sigh, pushed up his glasses and rubbed each side of the bridge of his nose.
“There are tests going on now, in which parents volunteer their children to test promising vaccines. Many of the tests have been positive, but there is always a chance there could be unforeseen side effects, Bobby or Lewis could contract polio altogether.” Rosamund said, closing his eyes while his fingers continued to rub.
“They test vaccines on children?” Mr. Connors replied a bit incredulously. Dr. Rosamund’s eyes flew open.
“Oh no, oh God no, not right away. They test on animals first. Extensive tests and then if everything looks promising, they move from rats all the way to human volunteers. If the volunteers react positively, then the vaccine becomes mainstream.” Mr. Connors took this all in, jutting out his chin that signaled he was in deep thought. After a short time he came to a conclusion, while Rosamund waited patiently for the boorish man to speak up. In Connors mind, the chance to do something himself against the war on Polio was the deciding factor. He leaned in and demanded his children become a part of this test.
“You’re sure Robert?” The physician asked. He knew that reminding Mr. Connors of the dangers might change his mind and Dr. Rosamund sorely wanted Mr. Connors to stop barging in and demanding the polio vaccine quicker than now.
“Yes, no sons of mine are going to wait around for these god-damned soviet scientists to do their god-damned jobs. Give me the best ‘promising‘ vaccine you have.”
Rosamund, realizing this was the perfect way to rid himself of Connor‘s demands, walked to a metal cabinet and pulled out a bottle.
“These are the best possible vaccines pills that you can try; so far they’ve had the most promising results. Over thirty children have taken these and have shown……great progress.” he said, pouring the contents upon the desk and sorting them into two smaller containers.
“Here, seven pills in each, fourteen pills in total. One bottle for Albert, and one for Lewis, respectively. Take these with food, once a day, and if there are any unusual symptoms that appear, bring the kids to the emergency room downstairs and ask for me. If all goes well, I’ll want to check up on them at the end of the first week, second week, and every week thereafter for a month or so. Just to be on the safe side.”
The sound of the pills that fell into the bottles made Mr. Connors jut out his chin for a moment.
“Any questions Mr. Connors?” Dr. Rosamund ask mildly, as he placed the little white medicinal bag between his over bearing patient and himself.
“No Dr. Rosamund. Thanks for letting me do this.”
Mr. Connors stared at the little white bag that sat on the corner counter while he tried to eat June Connors’ pork chops. A nose bumped into his leg, and he looked down to see familiar and friendly eyes peer up at him. With a sigh, Robert deftly slid a piece to Reno, and hoped no one would hear the Beagle gobble up the scraps. Reno bumped his snout again on Robert’s leg, surely learning this trick from the boys, but got another piece of pork chop for his trouble.
“Robert, honey.” A light voice twittered it’s way to his attention. “What did Dr. Rosamund have to say this week? You brought something home,” The light voice had turned into a whine, “but I didn’t understand which medicine it was.”
“I’ll tell you after supper dear,” Robert said, fixing an harsh stare at June. “Sons, how was school today?”
“Billy Tumak is gone from school, dad!” Bobby burst out, “they say he’s got polio, or giant lice!”
Robert again jut out his chin to think, this left him with a choice to make. He would have set his troop of men out even if he knew there were hidden dangers he knew about. His own sons were another question. And if something did happen, surely his wife would nag and cry, while his sons would be cripples. No, what if his kids got polio while playing out in the park, or with some school kids? He’d have had a possible vaccine--no a real vaccine-- but stood around like a god damned-fool and did nothing.
The snout hit his leg again, and a light whine meant only for Robert's ears reached him. Reno got a few pats, and another morsel of pork chops.
“Boys, did you feed Reno today?” Robert asked, annoyed by yet another light bump to his leg.
“Of course dad!” Lewis cried, indignant, “twice, and walked him once! Me and Bobby were gonna walk him again.”
“Well clear your dishes and be off with you. And Lewis, I want you back in the house by eight. You need to work on your numbers.” Robert said, pushing Reno lightly away with his foot.
A few moments passed until both boys and Reno were gone and the back porch door banged shut.
“Robert, what did Dr. Rosamund give you?” June asked her husband, pleasantly, as a woman should.
“Vaccine. He gave us a trial vaccine for polio to use on the kids.” Robert said, a bit distracted again.
June gave a sharp intake of breath at the word trial.
“Trial…Robert?” She said warily. “You can’t be serious. This could be dangerous for my babies! I think -”
“Hush woman!” Robert said, as his fist pounded onto the cedar table. “They’ll take what I say they’ll take!” He threw another harsh stare just in case. June didn’t reply, but her eyes filled a bit with water.
“I know it’s dangerous,” he snapped a moment later, “but they’re in danger just going outside. I didn’t come back from winning the war in Europe just to lose the war at home. I’ll think of something. I’ll make this better.”
June started to shake her head, opened her mouth to speak, and was again interrupted.
“Not another word, woman. I’ve made up my mind. Come now, there are dishes to be washed.”
As June finished, and was leaving kitchen, she stifled a sound close to the whimper of a frightened animal.
The sound didn’t bother Robert, in fact it gave him a brilliant idea.
It had been three days since Robert had forced an entire contents of one bottle down Reno’s throat, and the dog was doing fine. It ate normally, acted normally, and pissed normally. Everything was perfectly normal aside from the kid’s complaints of Dad, rather than themselves, spending so much time with Reno. Three days became five days, all marked with a nice green check on the calendar. It was safe, Reno was healthy, and perhaps even Polio protected. Mr. Connors decided he was going to go ahead with the volunteer trial for his sons. Unfortunately, after Reno, he only had one bottle of vaccines left. So, which son should he give it to? The trial pills still had a bit of possible danger, so the choice between sons needed to be thought out carefully. Albert, or Lewis, second born, or first born. It led to Robert sitting through yet another dinner, chin jutted out, with meatloaf being sneaked to a Dog with a very happy stomach. Reno, despite the trauma Robert put the dog through when forcing him to swallow seven pills in half a hour of struggle, still waged his tail at Robert and bumped his nose into Mr. Conner’s leg. An absent-minded hand patted Reno’s head, while Robert continued with his inner turmoil of choice. Albert or Lewis, they were both his own flesh and blood. Robert finally decided, with a pleased conviction, that it would be Lewis to take the bottle. Only a year younger, Bobby had already surpassed Lewis in his numbers. Bobby obviously had a better chance to become someone of respect.
“Lewis, could you stay after dinner?” Robert cut into the conversation, “I want to have a chat with you before we start on your numbers. Meanwhile Bobby can go take Reno on his walk.”
Bobby looked happy, while Lewis’s face developed a bit of an unhappy sag.
June looked very, very worried.
Dr. Rosamund sat with his fingers on each side on the bridge of his nose, rubbing with a grimace on his face, and spectacles on his head.
For once, Mr. Connors did not say anything, only sat dejectedly on an aging gray chair. Mrs. Connors, instead, was the one to speak, if only in a tired and breathy voice.
“How bad is it?”
The physician gave another sigh, only much more ragged that the sighs Mr. Connors had heard only a month ago.
“Lewis…” Dr. Rosamund paused, as if to find a more delicate voice, “Lewis has contracted paralytic polio. We are lucky to have such state of the art facilities in Boston. You’ll be able to visit him…. and stay close to him if he should pass away.”
Neither spoke, no fist pounded on the table, nor was there a sobbing gasp. Both were numb after watching their eldest son weaken and be placed into an iron box so he could breathe.
“June, darling, please go check on Bobby. I want to speak to Dr. Rosamund about something that is a bit too stressful for a woman,” Robert lightly ordered, while Dr. Rosamund just watched with an absent stare. June nodded her head, politely excused herself from the Physician and went to check on her remaining son.
“Robert, I know this seems bad, but there are many parents that are in the same boat as you. A week ago there was another massive outbreak just beyond the city-- many have lost both or all of their children to iron lungs.” Dr. Rosamund said, in his most delicate of voices.
“But…he was fine. Perfectly fine. Ate normally, pissed normally, I just don’t understand…,”muttered Robert.
“Polio takes a bit of time for symptoms to occur. Meanwhile, the child seems perfectly fine. Better keep a close eye on Bobby, Mr. Connors. Some of those outbreaks have been close to your area. It‘s a lucky thing June forgot the second bottle of pills in her laundry. Imagine if Bobby also took the trial pills?” Dr. Rosamund said, losing his delicate voice to don the more professional.
“Steven,” Mr. Connors said, uncharacteristically using the doctor’s first name, “is there any other promising trial drugs out right now?”
“What? Well, yes. I mean, yes, there are some promising drugs. Robert, why...why do you ask?”
“I would like to try another trial,” Robert replied, “for Bobby, the wife and myself. And one extra, in case June does another god-damned medicinal laundry.”
“You sure Robert? I wouldn’t think-”
“I’m sure,” was the interrupting reply, “the best trail vaccine you have.”
Robert didn’t even need to slam his fist to intimidate Dr. Rosamund into giving him the new trial pills.
Reno wagged his tail in a fury when three of the Connors family stepped into the house at midnight.
Bobby ran to his beagle, buried his face into the fur, and let out as heaving sob.
“Bobby, get up to bed. It’s a school day tomorrow, and we don’t want your grades to suffer,” Robert ordered.
Bobby pleaded, with crying gasps, “Can Reno sleep with-” but Robert quickly interrupted.
“No. The rules are the god-damned dog sleeps downstairs in the family room. No buts. I want to see you in your Pajamas, teeth brushed and in bed in 10 minutes,” Robert said, fixing his son a harsh stare. He turned this stare towards June in case she decided to be disrespectful and object. Instead, they both trudged upstairs, leaving Robert alone with a similar white medical paper bag in his hands. Reno looked up at Robert, with one eye and a wagging tail. The other eye, swollen and stitched shut, wept a bit with infection. It had been a sore night for Robert when Lewis had shown signs of polio. Robert had then made it a very sore night for Reno.
“Hello Reno,” Robert said quietly, and put his hand towards the dog’s neck. Reno reacted by bumping his head against the hand for a pat, with his rump shaking with a fury of a wagging tail. Robert grabbed the scruff of Reno’s neck, and carried him to the kitchen. Popping open three of the four bottles, he looked at the whining dog.
“Time to get started then.”
Robert came down the stairs to smell bacon and eggs cooked by his loving wife. After grabbing a coffee and a serving of breakfast, he sat at the table, and barked at his son.
“Bobby! Get off the floor!”
“Dad...Reno...do you think he’ll…” Bobby said listlessly. Reno lay on a bed the boys had made, wagging his tail once every minute or so. Bobby sat next to him, devotedly petting him. Bobby hadn’t even attempted to feed Reno bacon, as it would gurgle back out in moments. Mr. Connors frowned, yet it was June who answered first.
“Bobby honey, there is disinfectant all around Reno, and I don’t want you to get sick from it. Could you please go and bring in your father’s newspaper? We all have duties, despite what has happened.”
With Bobby shuffling to the front door, June shot a red-rimmed stare at her husband .
“Honey,” Robert said, undisturbed by his wife’s distraught face, “bring me some toast, and stop worrying about the dog.” He had saved his entire family and one animal did not matter. If he had to see his family suffer from what the dog was going through, he surely would have become a broken man. Opening the morning paper and glancing at his son running to catch the bus to school, he nodded to himself. Bobby, his tests, was the right choice as well. Good with numbers, although a bit babied by his wife, he would grow up to a man people respected. Of this, he was sure.
“Robert, what have you done?!” June shrieked and whined, now that Bobby was gone, “Reno should be taken to a vet! I can’t believe this! I can’t believe what you‘ve done! No one should suffer two losses so soon,” she was sobbing now, “Robert, are you listening? Robert-”
“Quiet woman! A man can’t hear himself think! Look! Look! By god, they’ve done it! They have finally gotten off their god-damned asses and done it!” Robert shouted, teeth bared in a smug grin.
“Done what?” June shouted, still in a woman’s hysterics.
“Found the vaccine! Found the solution to Polio! God damn it woman, have you got no brains! A man named Sabin found it, found the solution!” Robert was standing up now as he read.
“One hundred percent safe and successful…soon to be mainstream…found by using monkeys…Monkeys? God damn it, Monkeys?!” Robert shouted angrily, and threw the paper down.
June took a step back, putting herself just a bit further away from her red faced husband.
“Robert. The dog. We need to do something about Reno. You need to make him…this all better.” June’s voiced cracked.
“What? Fine, I’ll make this all better.” Robert growled at his wife’s nag. He picked up Reno by the scruff, and half dragged him through the back porch door. June did not dare follow her husband, only started scrubbing the frying pans with a whimpered .
Robert tossed Reno in a heap, and went across the yard to where an old thick branch was laying. In his hands, the wood had a good solid weight.
“Should do it.” Robert stated.
Laying limp, Reno saw Mr. Connors walking towards him with a very large stick.
His tail tried very hard to wag.
So this is it, pretty close to the end product, if not the finished product itself. Comments would be appreciated! mischief_86 I think you'll...react most to this story.
When the door opened and the red face of a familiar patient stepped into Dr. Rosamund’s office, Rosamund knew exactly what Mr. Connors would demand. Each week when he opened Rosamund‘s plain office door, his face became redder, and his requests became demands.
“I will not have my kids living in an iron cage” Mr. Connors barked, pounding upon the top of the physician’s desk. The pens and pencils rattled in coffee mugs not were not already filled with cold coffee. The sound sent a bit more pain into the physician’s head.
“Mr. Connors, calm down. Scientist are working very hard to find a cure, but things take time to-”
Connors interrupted, fist pounding on the table again. “No! I didn’t come back from the war to let my kids become god-damned cripples. I won‘t sit back and do nothing. I won’t!” Polio was a fixed edition to the news on the TV and radio now, and Robert Connors did not want his kids to end up crippled and living in Iron lungs.
“There are charities you can support, like the March of the Dimes-”
“Yes, what about all the god-damned dimes I sent to the white house? What exactly are they doing with my money? Wasting it away and laughing behind our backs!” Connors replied. He was sitting in the gray chair now, and it creaked with age and with the weight. Dr. Rosamund gave an audible sigh. Of all the patients worrying about Polio, Mr. Connors was the most persistent as well as the most intimidating.
“Look Robert, there hasn’t been anything official yet, but there are drugs that are being tested right now. Things are looking promising, pretty soon there could be a vaccine-”
“There are drugs out now?” Robert cut in. “ Why haven’t you told me? Where are these drugs? Lewis and Bobby could have been safe by now, and you’ve just been sitting there telling me to god-damn wait?!” Another fist slammed on the table, and a mug rolled off the desk and onto the steel gray carpet below. The physician gave another sigh, pushed up his glasses and rubbed each side of the bridge of his nose.
“There are tests going on now, in which parents volunteer their children to test promising vaccines. Many of the tests have been positive, but there is always a chance there could be unforeseen side effects, Bobby or Lewis could contract polio altogether.” Rosamund said, closing his eyes while his fingers continued to rub.
“They test vaccines on children?” Mr. Connors replied a bit incredulously. Dr. Rosamund’s eyes flew open.
“Oh no, oh God no, not right away. They test on animals first. Extensive tests and then if everything looks promising, they move from rats all the way to human volunteers. If the volunteers react positively, then the vaccine becomes mainstream.” Mr. Connors took this all in, jutting out his chin that signaled he was in deep thought. After a short time he came to a conclusion, while Rosamund waited patiently for the boorish man to speak up. In Connors mind, the chance to do something himself against the war on Polio was the deciding factor. He leaned in and demanded his children become a part of this test.
“You’re sure Robert?” The physician asked. He knew that reminding Mr. Connors of the dangers might change his mind and Dr. Rosamund sorely wanted Mr. Connors to stop barging in and demanding the polio vaccine quicker than now.
“Yes, no sons of mine are going to wait around for these god-damned soviet scientists to do their god-damned jobs. Give me the best ‘promising‘ vaccine you have.”
Rosamund, realizing this was the perfect way to rid himself of Connor‘s demands, walked to a metal cabinet and pulled out a bottle.
“These are the best possible vaccines pills that you can try; so far they’ve had the most promising results. Over thirty children have taken these and have shown……great progress.” he said, pouring the contents upon the desk and sorting them into two smaller containers.
“Here, seven pills in each, fourteen pills in total. One bottle for Albert, and one for Lewis, respectively. Take these with food, once a day, and if there are any unusual symptoms that appear, bring the kids to the emergency room downstairs and ask for me. If all goes well, I’ll want to check up on them at the end of the first week, second week, and every week thereafter for a month or so. Just to be on the safe side.”
The sound of the pills that fell into the bottles made Mr. Connors jut out his chin for a moment.
“Any questions Mr. Connors?” Dr. Rosamund ask mildly, as he placed the little white medicinal bag between his over bearing patient and himself.
“No Dr. Rosamund. Thanks for letting me do this.”
Mr. Connors stared at the little white bag that sat on the corner counter while he tried to eat June Connors’ pork chops. A nose bumped into his leg, and he looked down to see familiar and friendly eyes peer up at him. With a sigh, Robert deftly slid a piece to Reno, and hoped no one would hear the Beagle gobble up the scraps. Reno bumped his snout again on Robert’s leg, surely learning this trick from the boys, but got another piece of pork chop for his trouble.
“Robert, honey.” A light voice twittered it’s way to his attention. “What did Dr. Rosamund have to say this week? You brought something home,” The light voice had turned into a whine, “but I didn’t understand which medicine it was.”
“I’ll tell you after supper dear,” Robert said, fixing an harsh stare at June. “Sons, how was school today?”
“Billy Tumak is gone from school, dad!” Bobby burst out, “they say he’s got polio, or giant lice!”
Robert again jut out his chin to think, this left him with a choice to make. He would have set his troop of men out even if he knew there were hidden dangers he knew about. His own sons were another question. And if something did happen, surely his wife would nag and cry, while his sons would be cripples. No, what if his kids got polio while playing out in the park, or with some school kids? He’d have had a possible vaccine--no a real vaccine-- but stood around like a god damned-fool and did nothing.
The snout hit his leg again, and a light whine meant only for Robert's ears reached him. Reno got a few pats, and another morsel of pork chops.
“Boys, did you feed Reno today?” Robert asked, annoyed by yet another light bump to his leg.
“Of course dad!” Lewis cried, indignant, “twice, and walked him once! Me and Bobby were gonna walk him again.”
“Well clear your dishes and be off with you. And Lewis, I want you back in the house by eight. You need to work on your numbers.” Robert said, pushing Reno lightly away with his foot.
A few moments passed until both boys and Reno were gone and the back porch door banged shut.
“Robert, what did Dr. Rosamund give you?” June asked her husband, pleasantly, as a woman should.
“Vaccine. He gave us a trial vaccine for polio to use on the kids.” Robert said, a bit distracted again.
June gave a sharp intake of breath at the word trial.
“Trial…Robert?” She said warily. “You can’t be serious. This could be dangerous for my babies! I think -”
“Hush woman!” Robert said, as his fist pounded onto the cedar table. “They’ll take what I say they’ll take!” He threw another harsh stare just in case. June didn’t reply, but her eyes filled a bit with water.
“I know it’s dangerous,” he snapped a moment later, “but they’re in danger just going outside. I didn’t come back from winning the war in Europe just to lose the war at home. I’ll think of something. I’ll make this better.”
June started to shake her head, opened her mouth to speak, and was again interrupted.
“Not another word, woman. I’ve made up my mind. Come now, there are dishes to be washed.”
As June finished, and was leaving kitchen, she stifled a sound close to the whimper of a frightened animal.
The sound didn’t bother Robert, in fact it gave him a brilliant idea.
It had been three days since Robert had forced an entire contents of one bottle down Reno’s throat, and the dog was doing fine. It ate normally, acted normally, and pissed normally. Everything was perfectly normal aside from the kid’s complaints of Dad, rather than themselves, spending so much time with Reno. Three days became five days, all marked with a nice green check on the calendar. It was safe, Reno was healthy, and perhaps even Polio protected. Mr. Connors decided he was going to go ahead with the volunteer trial for his sons. Unfortunately, after Reno, he only had one bottle of vaccines left. So, which son should he give it to? The trial pills still had a bit of possible danger, so the choice between sons needed to be thought out carefully. Albert, or Lewis, second born, or first born. It led to Robert sitting through yet another dinner, chin jutted out, with meatloaf being sneaked to a Dog with a very happy stomach. Reno, despite the trauma Robert put the dog through when forcing him to swallow seven pills in half a hour of struggle, still waged his tail at Robert and bumped his nose into Mr. Conner’s leg. An absent-minded hand patted Reno’s head, while Robert continued with his inner turmoil of choice. Albert or Lewis, they were both his own flesh and blood. Robert finally decided, with a pleased conviction, that it would be Lewis to take the bottle. Only a year younger, Bobby had already surpassed Lewis in his numbers. Bobby obviously had a better chance to become someone of respect.
“Lewis, could you stay after dinner?” Robert cut into the conversation, “I want to have a chat with you before we start on your numbers. Meanwhile Bobby can go take Reno on his walk.”
Bobby looked happy, while Lewis’s face developed a bit of an unhappy sag.
June looked very, very worried.
Dr. Rosamund sat with his fingers on each side on the bridge of his nose, rubbing with a grimace on his face, and spectacles on his head.
For once, Mr. Connors did not say anything, only sat dejectedly on an aging gray chair. Mrs. Connors, instead, was the one to speak, if only in a tired and breathy voice.
“How bad is it?”
The physician gave another sigh, only much more ragged that the sighs Mr. Connors had heard only a month ago.
“Lewis…” Dr. Rosamund paused, as if to find a more delicate voice, “Lewis has contracted paralytic polio. We are lucky to have such state of the art facilities in Boston. You’ll be able to visit him…. and stay close to him if he should pass away.”
Neither spoke, no fist pounded on the table, nor was there a sobbing gasp. Both were numb after watching their eldest son weaken and be placed into an iron box so he could breathe.
“June, darling, please go check on Bobby. I want to speak to Dr. Rosamund about something that is a bit too stressful for a woman,” Robert lightly ordered, while Dr. Rosamund just watched with an absent stare. June nodded her head, politely excused herself from the Physician and went to check on her remaining son.
“Robert, I know this seems bad, but there are many parents that are in the same boat as you. A week ago there was another massive outbreak just beyond the city-- many have lost both or all of their children to iron lungs.” Dr. Rosamund said, in his most delicate of voices.
“But…he was fine. Perfectly fine. Ate normally, pissed normally, I just don’t understand…,”muttered Robert.
“Polio takes a bit of time for symptoms to occur. Meanwhile, the child seems perfectly fine. Better keep a close eye on Bobby, Mr. Connors. Some of those outbreaks have been close to your area. It‘s a lucky thing June forgot the second bottle of pills in her laundry. Imagine if Bobby also took the trial pills?” Dr. Rosamund said, losing his delicate voice to don the more professional.
“Steven,” Mr. Connors said, uncharacteristically using the doctor’s first name, “is there any other promising trial drugs out right now?”
“What? Well, yes. I mean, yes, there are some promising drugs. Robert, why...why do you ask?”
“I would like to try another trial,” Robert replied, “for Bobby, the wife and myself. And one extra, in case June does another god-damned medicinal laundry.”
“You sure Robert? I wouldn’t think-”
“I’m sure,” was the interrupting reply, “the best trail vaccine you have.”
Robert didn’t even need to slam his fist to intimidate Dr. Rosamund into giving him the new trial pills.
Reno wagged his tail in a fury when three of the Connors family stepped into the house at midnight.
Bobby ran to his beagle, buried his face into the fur, and let out as heaving sob.
“Bobby, get up to bed. It’s a school day tomorrow, and we don’t want your grades to suffer,” Robert ordered.
Bobby pleaded, with crying gasps, “Can Reno sleep with-” but Robert quickly interrupted.
“No. The rules are the god-damned dog sleeps downstairs in the family room. No buts. I want to see you in your Pajamas, teeth brushed and in bed in 10 minutes,” Robert said, fixing his son a harsh stare. He turned this stare towards June in case she decided to be disrespectful and object. Instead, they both trudged upstairs, leaving Robert alone with a similar white medical paper bag in his hands. Reno looked up at Robert, with one eye and a wagging tail. The other eye, swollen and stitched shut, wept a bit with infection. It had been a sore night for Robert when Lewis had shown signs of polio. Robert had then made it a very sore night for Reno.
“Hello Reno,” Robert said quietly, and put his hand towards the dog’s neck. Reno reacted by bumping his head against the hand for a pat, with his rump shaking with a fury of a wagging tail. Robert grabbed the scruff of Reno’s neck, and carried him to the kitchen. Popping open three of the four bottles, he looked at the whining dog.
“Time to get started then.”
Robert came down the stairs to smell bacon and eggs cooked by his loving wife. After grabbing a coffee and a serving of breakfast, he sat at the table, and barked at his son.
“Bobby! Get off the floor!”
“Dad...Reno...do you think he’ll…” Bobby said listlessly. Reno lay on a bed the boys had made, wagging his tail once every minute or so. Bobby sat next to him, devotedly petting him. Bobby hadn’t even attempted to feed Reno bacon, as it would gurgle back out in moments. Mr. Connors frowned, yet it was June who answered first.
“Bobby honey, there is disinfectant all around Reno, and I don’t want you to get sick from it. Could you please go and bring in your father’s newspaper? We all have duties, despite what has happened.”
With Bobby shuffling to the front door, June shot a red-rimmed stare at her husband .
“Honey,” Robert said, undisturbed by his wife’s distraught face, “bring me some toast, and stop worrying about the dog.” He had saved his entire family and one animal did not matter. If he had to see his family suffer from what the dog was going through, he surely would have become a broken man. Opening the morning paper and glancing at his son running to catch the bus to school, he nodded to himself. Bobby, his tests, was the right choice as well. Good with numbers, although a bit babied by his wife, he would grow up to a man people respected. Of this, he was sure.
“Robert, what have you done?!” June shrieked and whined, now that Bobby was gone, “Reno should be taken to a vet! I can’t believe this! I can’t believe what you‘ve done! No one should suffer two losses so soon,” she was sobbing now, “Robert, are you listening? Robert-”
“Quiet woman! A man can’t hear himself think! Look! Look! By god, they’ve done it! They have finally gotten off their god-damned asses and done it!” Robert shouted, teeth bared in a smug grin.
“Done what?” June shouted, still in a woman’s hysterics.
“Found the vaccine! Found the solution to Polio! God damn it woman, have you got no brains! A man named Sabin found it, found the solution!” Robert was standing up now as he read.
“One hundred percent safe and successful…soon to be mainstream…found by using monkeys…Monkeys? God damn it, Monkeys?!” Robert shouted angrily, and threw the paper down.
June took a step back, putting herself just a bit further away from her red faced husband.
“Robert. The dog. We need to do something about Reno. You need to make him…this all better.” June’s voiced cracked.
“What? Fine, I’ll make this all better.” Robert growled at his wife’s nag. He picked up Reno by the scruff, and half dragged him through the back porch door. June did not dare follow her husband, only started scrubbing the frying pans with a whimpered .
Robert tossed Reno in a heap, and went across the yard to where an old thick branch was laying. In his hands, the wood had a good solid weight.
“Should do it.” Robert stated.
Laying limp, Reno saw Mr. Connors walking towards him with a very large stick.
His tail tried very hard to wag.