Bruce

It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, the grass was fresh, and my neighborhood was empty. After walking my five dogs around the neighborhood a few times, we made it back home.

“C’mon boys,” I say as I open the door, leading them inside.

One by one they waddle their cute little legs.

Max…then Bandit…then Ace…then Charlie…but where’s…

“Hey Bruce!”

My last dog isn’t coming in. He’s facing the opposite direction looking out, ears alert.

I snap in front of his face.

“Helooooo. C’mon, Bruce. Good boy, c’mon!”

Good boy doesn’t budge.

Instead, he looks out in the distance as if he’s expecting something. Hearing something I don’t hear. I look out too, confused.

“What are you looking at, Brucey?”

I stoop down to his level to try and see. Looks like clear blue skies to me. But his ears are high and tail alert, forward.

Probably just some squirrels or something.

“Alright boy, that’s enough.”

I try to push him toward the door, but he’s not moving. Gosh this dog is heavy!

Before I’m able to conjure up the strength to push him again, he jets off down the street, opposite of where he was looking.

“Hey! Bruce!”

I chase after him, trying desperately to keep up, but a dog’s speed is just too much to compete with. I stop short and hunch over out of breath, my lungs feeling like their shriveling with every breath.

Maybe I should work out more.

I sit on the edge of the sidewalk, waiting for Bruce to hopefully come back. He’s always been a weird dog. Never playing with the other dogs, and whenever I take them out in the backyard to pee, he always stays out longer just to sit and gaze toward the sunset. I’ve always wondered what goes through his mind. It must be a lot since he’s deciding to run away from home now!

Suddenly, I hear rumbling footsteps, sort of like a stampede.

I look back and I am flabbergasted.

I get up quickly despite my equilibrium still being off from chasing Bruce. I get ready to run again because this can’t be real right now.

A horde of monkeys start stampeding towards me at an inhumanely fast rate. But these aren’t regular monkeys; they’re like giant baboons. It looks like a scientific experiment gone extremely awry.

I jump into the bushes before I get trampled on, ignoring the thorns pricking my flesh. I look up from behind the scratchy leaves and see these monkeys are way bigger than I thought. They’re like monsters, screeching as they race past like angry warriors. I know they didn’t come from no type of zoo.

As I watch their bodies get smaller and smaller as they run down the street, I realize that they’re running in the same direction that Bruce ran off in. They’re not…running after my dog, are they?

Oh no.

Before my panic attack could come in full force, I hear a deafening growl and even louder footsteps trampling from the same direction. As the footsteps sound closer, the sky begins to darken momentarily. All I see from a distance is a shadow of a large animal. As it gets closer I realize it’s a…giraffe? What’s up with these zoo animals going haywire??? I didn’t even know giraffe’s made noises.

It breezes past me, but not without staring deeply into my eyes as it goes past.

I’m dreaming, right?

I blink profusely. 

Nope, still here.

I pinch my forearm.

“Ouch!”

Yep, this is real.

I walk timidly toward where the animals were going, which probably isn’t a good idea. I could very well die. But so could my dog though. What if those animals try to kill him? What if Bruce gets scared and gets even more lost and then never comes back home? I have to see what’s going on.

I walk through my seemingly normal neighborhood, looking up at the bright blue sky and the cookie-cutter houses. I’m surprised none of my neighbors have gone out today to see what’s going on. I can’t be the only one witnessing this. 

A putrid smell starts wafting through the air and flows through my nostrils and wraps around my throat. 

That’s a little dramatic, but the point is, it stinks. I almost gag.

All of a sudden, I hear screaming.

“Get em off  of me!”

“It’s in my shirt! It’s in my shirt!”

People are screaming their heads off, running in the direction I was coming from. It looks like they’re coming from the opposite direction from those mutant animals.

These people look weird too, having electric blue veins all over their body. I stop in my tracks, really examining these people.

Am I sure I’m not dreaming?

I overhear someone say it’s the ‘virus.’

Virus? Seriously?

So, we have people with viruses that make their veins electric blue and makes them smell absolutely horrid, and abnormally big animals running around.

I don’t do drugs, but I’m pretty sure this is what an acid trip would be like.

I hear high pitched barking and look away from the crazy blue people toward our neighborhood park.

“Bruce!” I exclaim.

I’m so relieved.

I run to him but quickly stop in my tracks when I see what’s happening.

And if I was on drugs, my high just got blown.

Bruce is on top of some sort of mutated leopard, spitting rocks at the monkeys, while the monkeys are hurling dead branches.

I pinch myself again just to be sure.

“WE WILL DESTROY YOU!”

Who said that?

“HA! YOU WISH!”

There are absolutely no people in this area, except for me. Who is yelling like that?

“HOW ABOUT THIS!”

Suddenly, the monkey starts breathing fire at the leopard my dog is on.

I almost faint.

A fire-breathing monkey. But more alarmingly…did that fire-breathing monkey just talk?!

“YOU’RE GONNA REGRET THAT!”

The leopard shouts as it climbs up a tree and starts hurling branches at the monkeys.

I can’t believe my eyes.

“FLANA!”

I hear my name called. Unable to move, I fix my eyes toward the sound of my name. I see my dog, Bruce, looking right at me. I see his mouth move but don’t hear anything. I refuse to believe this. I must be hallucinating.

“Huh,” I say, bewildered.

“I said what are you doing here?” Bruce says.

Before I can even fathom that my dog speaks human english, let alone understand what he said, I’m out like a light.

…

I wake up in my room. I don’t know how I got here, but here I am. I look beside me and there’s Bruce sleeping so soundly.

Did I dream everything? I roll up my sleeves and see indentations in my skin, showing where I pinched myself. So I wasn’t dreaming.

But how did I end up back here?

Did those giant animals actually exist?

Can my dog actually talk???

I look over at my other dogs sleeping on the other side of my room, cuddling. As they should. And here’s Bruce sleeping on my bed with me, almost looking like a normal dog.

Could have fooled me.

I contemplate waking Bruce up demanding for answers, but I hesitate, thinking how ridiculous it is for me to wake up my dog, ask him a question, and expect for him to actually talk to me.

But then I realize, at the rate things are going, I have nothing to lose. Besides, he has some explaining to do.

“Bruce. Wake up boy.”

Bruce opens his eyes lazily. He yawns while he stretches his body. As I watch my cute boy wake up, I question myself again.

Am I really gonna ask him a question?

More importantly, is he really gonna respond?

“Hey Bruce,” I say hesitantly. “How are you doing buddy?”

He stares at me blankly, licking his lips.

He’s hungry. And not speaking.

Okay, maybe it was a dream.

“Alright buddy, let’s get you something to eat.”

I roll out of bed and my other four dogs hear me rustle. One by one they slowly awake and follow me downstairs to the kitchen. I set up all five of their food bowls while I turn on the TV. On the news, I see the commotion about the damage that has been done since yesterday. I glance at Bruce involuntarily. I wonder if those news reporters will find out that my dog is somewhat part of the problem.

The news only shows the aftermath, but not the actual animals. The neighborhood park is destroyed, the branches are singed, there are holes all over the ground. I’ve always loved that park, and now it’s destroyed.

I think I would have preferred for this to be a dream.

Before I could wallow in my thoughts any longer, I heard a loud knock on the door. I walk over there quickly, turning the TV down. I look through the peephole and see a woman about my age, brown curly hair and bronze skin. She looks friendly, too. She’ll be the first person I’ve seen since the craziness that happened yesterday (which is most certainly not a dream, I’ve convinced myself). I can smell her from here though. 

I open the door and she greets me with such a bright smile. Her smile is almost as bright as her veins.

Oh brother.

My smile fades. I don’t want one of those virus-ridden freaks around me.

“Hi! My name is Christine. I just moved in here early this morning and wanted to introduce myself to my new neighbor.”

She stretches her hand towards me.

“Sorry, I don’t like physical touch.” No way am I letting her touch me.

She pulls her hand away quickly.

“Anyway, it’s nice to meet you Christine. I’m Flana.” I cross my arms and look at her up and down, gingerly. “Um, so what’s up with your…skin?”

She looks down at herself, as if she didn’t wake up this morning aware that she glows in the dark.

“Oh, this is…nothing. Nothing serious anyway. I mean, the news says it’s a virus, but my theory is they’re just trying to scare us. The cure is right under our nose, I’m sure of it.”

I stare blankly at her. Doesn’t sound very convincing.

“…Okay. Um, where are you from-”

“Well anyway,” Christine cuts me off. “I just wanted to say hi. Maybe we could talk later-”

She looks over my shoulder and all of a sudden her eyes get serious, face beginning to pale (if a black person’s face is even able to get pale). I look back, confused, and see in the midst of my dogs eating their breakfast, Bruce is staring right back at her with the same level of intensity.

I look back at Christine, bewildered.

“Hey,” I say, waving in her face. “Are you okay?”

She looks at me again as if nothing weird just happened.

“Oh. Yea, I’m fine. I’ll see you around.” She smiles again, but not as bright as when she first came to my door. “Maybe I can come over for dinner, yeah?”

“Um, I don’t think-”

“Great! I’ll come by later. See you on the flip!!”

Christine goes on her way but not before she looks back at Bruce with a sort of knowing glance, then continues down the street to her house.

I quickly shut the door and lock it, stalk back to the living room and turn the news back on. My eyes glaze over the TV as my mind races with all kinds of thoughts.

Why do all these people have the virus except for me?

Why did this weird lady come to my door? It can’t just be because she’s my new neighbor, why? 

And why was she having a staring contest with my dog, as if he has anything to do with this virus?

Wait.

I look back at Bruce again. He’s finished his food at this point, and now he’s laying down on the floor, gazing at the TV with me.

I turn back around slowly.

I don’t know what’s going on around here, but if I didn’t know any better, I’d say the insanity is far from over.