Kipper & Cylus 1

Kipper & Cylus
by ntvrbbrboy

Chapter I: Kipper

I was nosey, rambunctious, and I damn sure knew my alphabet, shapes, numbers and colors. I even knew my parent’s home telephone number and my address. You can add an extra star to that list since I also knew both my parents full names, including the names of the businesses where they worked. Yep, I was a great kid with lots of potential, but my life changed the day my kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Hale, put a toy bone in the mouth of every student in my class. “Pretend you are puppies,” she said. “What do the puppies do with their bones in the stories we read?” Simple answer, I thought. I ran out of the classroom making a bee-line to the playground to bury my bone in the sand box. Mrs. Crosby, the school counselor, was the only one who followed me.

Once I was certain the bone was covered, and in a place only I could find, I sat on my heels leaning onto my hands. No, I thought. The dogs in Mrs. Hale’s books don’t have hands. They have paws. I balled my fingers into a fist and thought, that’s more like it. I stayed put watching and waiting. I had to be certain no one saw where I put the bone. Mrs. Crosby walked up to me and buckled a small belt around my neck. I felt great when scratched my head and said, “Good boy!” I smiled from ear to ear.

We sat quietly for a few minutes before Mrs. Crosby hurried me back to class. I finished the day learning fun things, and Mrs. Hale was really nice to me. She gave me lots of things to do, like putting things away, helping other students with their supplies and moving furniture around the classroom. Mrs. Hale always said the same thing Mrs. Crosby did, “Good boy.” I felt warm inside every time I heard my teacher say that.

I was the first kid in line to leave. I wanted to get home and show my Mom what Mrs. Crosby gave me as fast as possible! Walking to our buses I saw another boy had a belt like mine. His name was Randy, and he lived down the street from me. When we stepped onto our bus the driver told us both, “You boys sit up front please.” I thought that was nice of Mr. Randall, the bus driver, because no one ever sat in the front seats.

Mr. Randall stopped the bus for a red light and Mandi Tyler, a fifth grader, hissed at both of us. “Hey doggies, where are your bones?”

Mr. Randall was very upset with her. He screamed, “Mandi Marie Tyler, I recall your older brother is the same as these two. So, don’t you start on the young’ns because your family is ashamed of what he is?” The other kids on the bus laughed and said very mean things about Mandi’s family. She was soon sobbing to herself trying to cover her face. They shouldn’t have made her cry, I thought. I sat next to her, and apologized for the other kids making her upset. She gave me a hug, and even apologized to me for being nasty.

Randy and I were both waiting at the door when the bus slowed down for our stop. Mr. Randall said, “Remember, you boys are a special ones now!” We both said thank you, pushed our way through the door before it was completely open and flew down the sidewalk. I almost tripped more than once running so fast. I tore through the front door and went straight for the kitchen where Mom was working at the counter. I tossed my books onto the kitchen table, giving Mom a start.

She said, “Hello, Davy. Dinner will be ready before too long.”

I whispered tugging on her dress, “Momma, look what I got at school.” She turned around holding a casserole dish with both hands. When she saw me the dish crashed onto the floor exploding into a thousand pieces of glass and bits of food.

“Oh, baby! Oh, baby!” She started sobbing and collapsed. I started crying too. I couldn’t help it. She pulled me into her arms and held me tight. We lay there until Dad pulled his car into the garage. Mom stood me up and said, “I love you, sweetie. I’m sorry for making you so upset. You’re my first. You’re my precious.” I told her I was sorry, but she said it was her fault for scaring me. “Let’s get this mess picked up before your Dad finishes his cigarette, OK?”

“OK, Momma.” Mom and I worked quickly. The broken glass and scattered food were swept up and tossed out before Dad walked in. He was just as terrified as Mom when he saw me, but he didn’t drop his briefcase. He waved for me to come to him. I ran to him as fast as I could and he lifted me up with both arms.

He asked me, “Do you like your new collar, son?”

“Yeah,” I said softly.

“That’s good,” he whispered and hugged me real tight. I could feel him shaking. He was crying just like Mandi Marie. I tried to hold him as tightly as he was holding me.

I said, “Don’t cry, Daddy. Momma already made her dress all soggy ‘cause she cried too much.” He laughed and put me down. He hugged and kissed Mom while she asked him how his day was. I tried to hug them both, but my arms weren’t long enough.

The doorbell rang as we stood there, in a huddle. I broke away and ran for the door. Pulling it open I saw a man wearing shiny clothes, kneeling next to a man dressed like Dad. A business suit Dad would call it. The man who was standing knelt down to me and said, “Hello, David.” I thought he was really nice, but Mom and Dad rushed me to my room before I could say hello. His friend in the shiny clothes had something over his face.

I tried to hang over the railing upstairs to hear what the stranger was talking about. I leaned too far to one side and slid down a few steps. Mom was really upset with me for being rude, but the stranger said I was only curious and asked my parents if I could come downstairs. Mother said it was alright and I ran downstairs two steps at a time.

I apologized for being nosey, and the stranger said, “That’s alright David; I want you to meet Cylus.” He pointed to the man that was kneeling next to his chair, kneeling like I had in the schoolyard. “Why don’t you say hello?” I walked up to Cylus and patted him between the straps around his head. He tilted his head from side to side and let out a muffled bark. The stranger chuckled, “He likes you. My name is Dr. Whittle.” The doctor shook my hand and Cylus let out another, louder, bark. Dr. Whittle told me to have a seat and I sat down next to Dad. I really wanted to ask why Cylus’ clothes were so shiny, but I didn’t want to be rude again. I did ask Dad why Cylus didn’t have any hair on his head, but I was told to hush.

The adults talked for a long while, mostly Mom and Dad asking questions. I thought I would get in trouble when I knelt next to Cylus trying to make myself look like he did. Dad didn’t say anything, but Mom gave me a mean look. I sat down with my legs crossed instead. Cylus would look down at me and I would smile at him. He was smiling back, but you couldn’t see it, because he had that thing around his head. I lifted his arm so I could see what was covering his hand. They were strange gloves. They were soft and made of the same stuff as everything else he wore. I could feel his clothes were warm.

Dr. Whittle said, “I should reiterate he wasn’t chosen based on the bone game alone. His entering under my care was determined by diagnostic testing, which began when he entered pre-school two years ago. This program is in place to ensure his health and safety. This process also helps his family, you wonderful folks, adapt to the change as it occurs.”

Mom asked, “When will he begin to act out?”

“He has been acting out since birth. However, the first definitive signs of his transition will show as he enters puberty. When his body begins to change his mind will change as well. So, it is best to start the boys and their families at this age. He will mature physically about two or three years ahead of most able boys.” The doctor was really nice and would make Mom or Dad feel better whenever they would look uncomfortable. They stopped talking after a while, and Mom asked if Dr. Whittle would like a cup of coffee. Mom left and Dad started talking about the clothes that I will have to wear.

I fell asleep and forgot that I was leaning against Cylus. I squeaked as landed on my back and rolled over in a defensive posture. Cylus had moved his arm, and he looked at me like I was crazy when I growled at him. The doctor chuckled and started talking again, “He is a dog-boy, and dog-boys are an integral part of our society. We lost all canines to disease back in aught-five and we were given these young men in return. Providence? I can’t say for sure.” I could tell that Dr. Whittle really cared about Cylus.

I’m just like Cylus, I thought.

That moment my mind was a tornado. I had the chills for a second and then felt warm all over. I knew it was true.

Mom was about to say something but the doctor stopped her. “I’m sure David has behaved, before today, in a way that has given rise to this being a possibility. He is emotionally and intellectually ahead of the other children his age. I suspect he’s capable of dressing and cleaning up after himself, and capable of managing his own space without assistance. Correct?” Mom and Dad agreed and the doctor continued. “You still have doubts, and that is normal. You worry about your reputation as parents, and you sir as a businessman. The only relief I can offer is helping your family adapt to the change. And, hopefully, place your son with a good family when he’s old enough. I have found in the twenty years I have been with the Department of Placement, that members of the family who have greater concern for their well being than that of their special child are least likely to handle the transition well. Worry about him first, please.”

The doctor clipped a leash onto Cylus’ collar and said, “That being said, he will be taken care of, so will the two of you. If we start this process now, then it will be much easier on you all than if we start a year from now when it will be required by law. I have seen too many torn to pieces because they either waited far too long or objected when the required orientation date came to pass. The boys then become wards of the state.” They both sighed and Dr. Whittle answered more of their questions.

Cylus used his arm to push me from him, and looked away as if nothing had happened. I slid myself to where I was sitting and he did it again. This time he looked at me with mean eyes and then winked. I tried not to laugh. The doctor asked the both of us to be still and said, “The case I left at the door has all that he’ll need for the next week and the manual I’ve handed you will explain how to proceed. My office information is printed on the back cover, and I have penciled in my home telephone number. If you ever have any questions or concerns feel free to phone anytime, day or night. Remember, he was born this way. There is no shame in that.” The doctor leaned toward me and asked, “Isn’t that right David? No shame!”

“No shame,” I repeated and smiled back at him.

Dr. Whittle stood and whispered, “Walk.” He pulled on the leash in his hand and Cylus stood up proudly. I could see he wasn’t much taller than Mom, though Dr. Whittle was as tall as Dad. I tried to walk in step with Cylus but his steps were too big.

I looked at what Cylus was wearing now that he was standing up. It was one piece, really tight and polished like Dad’s car. He had things around his wrists and ankles that looked like his collar, only wider. They even had the same, big metal ring. His big boots were polished too and everything was solid black. I asked Dr. Whittle what was around Cylus’ face, and Dad answered, “Son, that is called a muzzle.”

“And his hands Daddy?”

“Those are called mitts, Davy.”

Cylus put his arm around me while we were saying goodbye on the porch. I stood on his boot, and he lifted his leg tossing me into his arms. Mom said something mean, but Dr. Whittle said it was all right. I said, “Good Bye, Cylus. It was nice to meet you!” Cylus let out a growl and rubbed his head against mine. I gave him a big hug.

Dr. Whittle said, “You’ll see Cylus again next week.” I really liked that.

We had Chinese take-out since mom dropped dinner on the floor. We never eat while watching television, but tonight was a special occasion according to Dad. The tall, skinny man that pretends he can speak different languages was saying crazy things. His program was really funny! Especially, when people fall down or play fight. I dosed off after I ate an entire box of rice by myself, and woke up to an announcer saying, “Your Show of Shows Special Broadcast will return after these messages.” A newsman was on next and started reading something in a very serious way, but Dad turned down the volume.

Dad asked, “Do you like the name Kip, Davy?”

“Yes.” I replied, “Sounds like my teddy’s name.”

Dad and I watched television way past my bedtime, and Mom sat next to us reading through the manual Dr. Whittle left. Mom told me after the last program was over, “Time for bed, sweetie. Put your ‘jammies on and take off your collar. Dr. Whittle left a new one for you to wear. Don’t forget to brush your teeth.” I didn’t want to go to bed, but I knew arguing with Mom never works. I knew something really exciting was going to happen tomorrow.

“I can’t wait, Momma,” I said out loud and ran upstairs.

I heard Dad say, “I love you Susanna Flint, and I’m proud of our son.” Mom said she loved Dad and me too. I almost started crying for some reason.

I put my ‘jammies on so fast the buttons were crooked and I brushed my teeth even faster without toothpaste. Mom and Dad told me to calm myself and try again. I straightened my shirt and brushed my teeth again, even rinsing twice.

We stood in front of the tall mirror in my bedroom, watching our reflections. Mom wound my new collar around my neck and buckled it tight. It looked just like the one Cylus had worn earlier. It was thick and heavy. When I hugged Mom and Dad the warm feeling came back. It was stronger. They both said, “We love you, Kipper.”

I was tucked into bed and Dad asked me the question he asks every night, “Kipper, what is today.”

“Today is Monday, March the 15th.”

“And, what will tomorrow be?”

“Tomorrow will be Tuesday, March the 16th, Nineteen and fifty-four.” Mom and Dad both kissed me good night before turning out the light. I grabbed my teddy and whispered to him, “Trip! Tomorrow is going to be fun!”