Chapter 16: If Dogs Ruled the World

Saturday October 15
I woke up and was surprised I didn’t hurt as much as expected after hitting Pete Yoder last night. Chuck had collected my bodycam footage before he’d gone home for the night, and I was sure I would hear from Fritz today. I shudder to think what would have happened if those guys had pounded on me. All I knew was that once I was well again, I would have made it my mission to do them some serious damage. This combination rib/hip injury was no joke.

Duke did a little dance at the side of the bed.

“Can’t you wait?” I asked.

Apparently not. I took my hound downstairs, and Precious darted in as he went out. I found her camped out on my pillow again. I ignored her as I got ready for the day. When I sat down on the edge of the bed to put my socks on, she came to me and wanted some loving. I wondered where the cat from hell had gone. When I went downstairs, I was happy she followed me. I didn’t mind our new routine if Precious behaved.

Duke was waiting for her.

“Gentle,” I warned him because she looked like she was ready to pop.

He checked her out with a lot of sniffs that earned him a swat on the nose. I didn’t blame Precious. Getting sniffed all over wasn’t my favorite thing, either.

I’d slept in, so Mom and Dad were already up reading the paper.

“You need to see this,” Dad said, handing me the front page.

There was an article about our mayor getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The city council had removed him from office yesterday.

“Who didn’t see that coming?”

In our state, I think four out of the past seven or eight governors had gone to jail. Politics and corruption were nothing new. I know it used to make my grandfather crazy to have to watch some of the stupid stuff elected officials tried, thinking they were above the law. Now it seemed the group in Washington was following our lead.

“Read the next page,” Dad prodded.

That wasn’t good.

“He’s not qualified to be elected dog catcher, let alone mayor,” I said.

Thomas Fox had somehow gotten himself on the ballot as the sole opposition for our criminal mayor. At the time of his arrest, Mayor Doxsee was up by about seventy points. The article said his party was scrambling to find someone to oppose Mr. Fox. They had to get a candidate on the ballot by Wednesday, and the fear was they wouldn’t get the needed signatures. There was also the problem that Mayor Doxsee refused to pull his name from consideration.

The funny part was that getting charged with multiple felonies wasn’t grounds to keep you from being mayor. The paper stated that the only qualification was that you had to live in our township. The reporter surmised that as soon as Mayor Doxsee was locked up for his crimes, they could get him out of office for good. Once he was in the state prison system, he would no longer live in town.

“I bet Duke could beat him,” Mom said.

“You know what, that would be funny. If Duke took Thomas Fox down, my dream might really come true, and I would see him flipping burgers for real.”

I had an extraordinary level of hatred for Thomas Fox. He’d represented both Cal when he’d come after me about Pam and my child; and Brandon, Tami’s rapist. What a douche.

“I’d like to see him taken down, but don’t you think we should find a real candidate?” Dad asked.

I looked at Mom, and she didn’t give me a funny look. Tami warned me that my first idea was probably wrong, so I tried to reason out why not, other than that Duke was a dog.

“If a ‘real’ candidate gets his paperwork in on time, we pull Duke’s. I just don’t want to go down without a fight,” I said, making the decision.

“I’ll call some people and see what we need to do,” Dad said.

That meant he would call my grandma who’d helped my granddad get elected the whole time they were married. I was sure she would know what to had to be done, or she’d know who to ask. The three of us had big grins on our faces.

“This is going to be fun,” Mom said.

Somewhere in the back of my mind came the thought that Mr. Fox should never have pissed off my mom.

When I went out to the car, both Chuck and Cassidy were waiting for me.

“She’s going to start driving you when we need her to, so Fritz asked me to take her on a shakedown drive,” Chuck explained.

“Did you get a chance to watch the video from last night?” I asked.

I didn’t want to make a big deal out of Cassidy’s promotion, so I ignored what Chuck told me.

“Fritz said next time, let them hit you first. That way they can’t say you were the aggressor.”

“Dude. If you hurt like I do, you wouldn’t want them to touch you,” I complained.

“I understand. That’s why we won’t be leaving your side today.”

I had a feeling that that was necessary, but it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. There were times, even when you were supposedly in public, that you wanted to be alone. It was a shame that this was my new reality. All it took was a look at Cassidy to see how seriously she was taking my protection. I immediately dropped the idea of fighting them on this.

I figured out how Tracy had gotten us reservations at the Covered Bridge: we were doing her vlog there today.

“I wasn’t sure you’d make it,” Tracy said as a greeting.

“I was feeling a little fragile last night. I’m better today,” I said as I hobbled into the restaurant.

“Looks like it,” Tracy observed.

Marshal and Curtis were inside setting up for the interior scenes. It looked like the owner had brought in some people to make it appear they were dining.

“We’re doing this backward. We’ll shoot the customers trying the dessert and then have you in the kitchen,” Curtis told me.

Tracy shot her scene. The dessert they picked was a pistachio cake with strawberries, white chocolate, and meringue. I decided right then that Tracy was an evil genius in that she figured out a way for me to get to eat fantastic desserts. The evil part was that I wanted to eat the whole cake. With my new sedentary lifestyle, I could see Halle making fun of my growing butt.

Before I was up, I went to the men’s room.

“What are you doing in here?” I asked Cassidy.

“Wherever you go, I go.”

This was just great. The only problem was I didn’t think I could throw her out. My bladder made my decision for me.

“I can’t wait to tell Brook you showed me Mr. Happy,” Cassidy teased.

“I’m making a list,” I warned her.

“What list is that?”

“Everyone whose butt I’m going to kick once I’m feeling better.”

“Good luck with that,” she scoffed and then got an evil glint in her eye. “You could give me your list. You might have to prioritize it because I’m only allowed to hurt one boy a week.”

“Yuri,” I blurted, and then thought more about it. “No, Phil.”

“What about Dare? He stole your girlfriend.”

“You’d hurt Dare?” I asked, shocked.

That was like saying you would kick a puppy.

“On your orders,” she said with a straight face.

The scary part was, I believed her.

“I think I’ll take care of my own list for now.”

I could see Cassidy was disappointed. I was a little worried she might go rogue, though. Yuri had a habit of mouthing off to the wrong people. I could see Cassidy taking him down on principle. I would bet Pam would pay to watch that. Maybe that would be my Christmas present to her.

We had finished, and Marshal and Curtis were packing up.

“Hey, David,” Marshal said to stop me. “What are you planning on doing for your class project?”

I grinned because I was excited about this one.

“I’m going to shoot a campaign ad for my dog to run for mayor.”

They both gave me a funny look, so I explained about the current mayor being arrested and my deep hatred of Thomas Fox.

“What platform is Duke going to run on?” Marshal asked.

“I haven’t really thought about it. I just know that he would make a better mayor than Thomas Fox.”

“He doesn’t like squirrels,” Tracy suggested. “He could run on a platform of ridding the town of the vermin.”

Duke thought the little bastards should all die. That started a brainstorming session. Cassidy pointed out that she’d seen a bumper sticker that said that their dog was smarter than your first grader. We thought Duke was probably smarter than Thomas Fox, if his grades at State were any indication. Then we came up with ten things that would change if dogs ruled the world.

Duke’s Possible Platform:
1) Protect those that you love. That is job one.
2) There would be specific times each day for ear, chest, and belly rubs.
3) Fetch would be designated the official national pastime.
4) There should be a push for equality. Cats are people too.
5) Their human would be referred to as ‘Dog’s Best Friend.’
6) Conflict would be decided by a game of tug-of-war.
7) Squirrels would be in a higher tax bracket. The additional funds would go towards figuring out ‘What’s that noise?’
8) Doorbells would be outlawed. Same with the mail carrier.
9) A dog has more personality, integrity, empathy, and loyalty than any politician ever had.
10) You only wish you are as perfect as your dog thinks you are.

I wasn’t sure how to work that all into my ad, but it gave me a starting point. Marshal and Curtis loaded the equipment into my SUV so I could use it this weekend. I planned to get some shots of Duke in action so I could stitch it into my ad for my class project.

When I got home, Dad had already started Duke’s campaign.

“The first thing we have to do is get him on the ballot. There’s a link on the town’s website with the instructions on how to get signatures and the form it has to be on,” Dad said as he handed me one. “We need to get 550 signatures and have them turned in by close of business on Wednesday.”

“Why such a weird number?” I asked.

“I talked to my mom, and she said that we should get at least ten percent extra in case any signatures get rejected.”

That was a good call because if it were up to me, I would have gotten to 500 and stopped. I could just see Thomas Fox challenging the signatures. If it had been left to me, we would have had no margin for error.

The form said that Duke was running as an independent and it asked for the person signing the petition to provide their printed name and address. They then had to sign it. The form had room for three signatures per page. Dad told us that Grandma Dawson had pointed out that one of the most common disqualifiers of a signature was that people would forget to print their name on the form.

“Your mom took Duke to the hospital with a stack of these. She’s getting started,” Dad said.

“He should never have been a part of Cal threatening her grandbaby.”

“Yep. I would bet between Mom and Duke, they get several signed today. We need to find other places where we can knock out a large group of signatures.”

“How about church?” I suggested.

“Call them and see.”

I called Reverend Jackson and told him what I wanted to do.

“Hmm, that might be possible,” he hedged. “Did you hear we’re raising funds for a new roof?”

I just laughed.

“I’m sure I need a tax write-off for something. Call Caryn Buckley on Monday and tell her what you need. We have a process for my charitable donations,” I said.

“Smart man. Make sure I fulfill my end of the bargain first,” Reverend Jackson joked.

“I think I need to address the congregation on Sunday, as well.”

“If you somehow bring God into the conversation and mention the building fund, you have a deal.”

“How long do I get?” I asked.

“How big is your donation going to be?” the reverend countered.

I wouldn’t commit to anything because Caryn had made it clear that I wasn’t allowed to agree to anything like that. We had set it up so that I could just say that. Once word got out, the direct requests for money had slowed way down. Most of the local charities now knew to bypass me and talk to Caryn.

We finally agreed that the reverend would give me a minimum of five minutes and a maximum of ten. Reverend Jackson would also have tables set up in the lobby where we could have people sign Duke’s petition.

I was discovering that politics was all about making deals.

Brook had called while I was on the phone, so I called her back.

“What are you up to?” she asked.

I told her about shooting another vlog with Tracy and that I was working on getting Duke elected mayor.

“You have to be kidding me. Why would you do that?” Brook asked.

I explained how our current mayor had been arrested and that left only Thomas Fox standing in the coming election.

“Isn’t he that idiot that made up all that stuff about you and Pam?” Brook asked.

“Yep, and I think my mom looks at this as payback time. She’s out right now getting Duke’s petition signed so he can get on the ballot. I’ve been trying to think of ways to get enough signatures. I called my church, and Reverend Jackson agreed to let me talk to the congregation and have a sign-up table.”

“You really are a ‘stupid boy’ sometimes. All you have to do is ask, and I bet we can find a hundred or more people to go door-to-door this afternoon.”

“How are we going to do that?” I asked.

“I have twenty-four cheerleaders, and you have probably a hundred guys playing football. We do a call tree and have them all meet us at the school. Give them all a goal of signing up ten people each by Monday. Easy-peasy, and you’re done.”

Uncle John had always said I could get more done with the help of others. This sounded like a fun plan.

“We could make it a competition. We could pit the freshmen, JV, and varsity against one another. Whoever gathers the most signatures gets a prize of some kind,” I said.

“I know what the girls all want: a date with you,” Brook teased.

“I thought we just had this discussion in reverse. You sure you want to do that?” I asked.

“It’s just a date,” Brook retorted.

It seemed her mind was made up. It was for a good cause, so I didn’t fight it.

I don’t know why I was surprised when almost the whole football team and all the cheerleaders showed up to help out. My dad had come with me to help explain how the signatures had to be collected so they couldn’t be challenged. He predicted that Mr. Fox would do everything he could to keep Duke off the ballot. He’d called Ms. Dixon, and she agreed. She looked forward to facing our nemesis in court again. I think she disliked him almost as much as my mom did.

Brook came home with me after we’d sent our minions off to do their work. She, Peggy, and the little ones helped me shoot footage of Duke doing different things for his campaign ad. I made sure I captured a lot of tail-wagging and wet doggy-kisses. The little ones and Duke must have been tired out from being my actors because we found them all piled up taking a nap in the living room. Of course, I added that to the footage.

Mom and Dad were going out with Brook’s parents tonight. They planned to try the seafood restaurant in Washington that had fresh crab legs flown in each weekend. They asked if we wanted to join them, but Brook declined. I was a little disappointed because I love king crab legs. Rumor had it that they would have Dungeness crabs tonight instead of king crab legs, so I was a little mollified. Still, I extracted a promise from my dad to bring me some home if they had them.

“Where do you want to go for dinner?” I asked.

Peggy had taken the little ones and Duke to Pam’s for dinner. The plan was for them to take Little David and Coby swimming. The added bonus was Lacy, Pam’s mom, got some much-needed grandma time.

“I thought we could order in,” Brook replied with a sexy smile.

I gave her a confused look, and then it dawned on me. We had the house to ourselves, and we’d not had any alone-time in almost two weeks. I really was a ‘stupid boy’ sometimes. You would think the horny teenager in me would have come up with this plan on my own. Then again, I’d been hurting for a while, and the pain was still there, if diminished.

I got with the program and ordered Chinese. I then set the table in the dining room with the good china and broke out the candles. While I did that, Brook disappeared. When she came back, I smiled. My girlfriend had put on makeup and her little black dress from last night. She had something behind her back; moments later she pulled out her crown.

I bowed.

“My queen, may I assist you?” I asked.

Her brown eyes sparkled with mischief. Brook’s tiny crooked smile promised so much that it made my chest ache. She handed me the crown, and I looked down at it. I noticed this wasn’t the one from last night. This one had aquamarine stones and looked like it had been made from gold and silver coral with a large clamshell design in the center. Brook’s smile got bigger when she saw I didn’t recognize it.

“When I was younger, I wanted to be a princess. I loved Ariel from The Little Mermaid.”

She got a hesitant look when she admitted that last part. I loved that about her. I brushed her hair back and put the crown on her head. Either the crown had been big on her as a kid, or this was a more recent purchase. It wasn’t every day that Brook went all girly-girl, so this was fun to see.

“You’re stunning,” I whispered.

She blinked at me in an alluring way. If Brook weren’t careful, I would toss her on the table and have my way with her.

“Would you do me a favor?”

“Anything.”

“Go put your tux on. I want to have a special dinner.”

“Okay.”

I thought about what I’d told Yuri. Now who was whipped?

When I came back, Brook had turned out all the lights and put on mood music. The food had arrived, and I could smell the Chinese goodness. It always smelled so wonderful. It seemed to be a mix of steamed rice, high-temperature-fried meats, and the associated caramelized sugars and smoke, simmered broths, vinegar, and various fragrant spices that included garlic, ginger, soy, fish sauce, chili sauce, onion, and peppers.

Brook looked at me, and I could tell she approved. She handed me my own crown to put on.

“The only thing missing last night was you by my side during my special moment,” she explained.

I put it on, and she took off and came back with her phone. She wanted a selfie of us in our getups. She took three pictures before she was satisfied. A couple of keystrokes and she’d sent it out to the world. That was the problem with technology. My grandma had pictures of her and my granddad in matching outfits. At least he hadn’t had to endure being made fun of when those goofy pictures were taken. Only the fact that it was for Brook kept me from complaining.

I found that Brook had broken into my mom’s wine collection, consisting of about three cases of wine she’d accumulated in the basement, and had selected a Pinot Noir we’d picked up in California last year. Mom said it had a dry/earthy flavor. I was by no means an expert, but I liked it. To be truthful, though, I would’ve rather had a beer.

I went into complete gentleman mode, pulled out Brook’s chair for her and poured her a glass of wine. I don’t remember what we ate. Brook flirted something terrible with me, and Mr. Happy had firm control over the body. He’s not a real thinker beyond the obvious. For that, he had all kinds of ideas.

“Do you think you’re up for what’s next?” Brook asked.

“It will probably go best if I lay flat on the floor and you have your way with me. I don’t think I can do anything too strenuous,” I admitted.

Brook stood up, pulled the straps of her dress off her shoulders, and let her dress puddle around her feet. I sucked in my breath when I saw she was nude underneath. In my AP English Literature class, the female form was described in Gothic literature as focused on centrality and vulnerability—the classic ‘damsel in distress.’ There was none of that with Brook. She exuded a confident sexuality that I much preferred.

“Let me undress you,” she offered.

I chuckled because this was such a role reversal for me. Brook just shook her head at my silliness and began to untie my tie. It seemed her goal was to get my shirt open so she could kiss my neck and chest. I leaned my head back and let her do as she wanted. Brook ran her hands inside my shirt and pushed up towards my shoulders so that both my jacket and shirt came off at the same time.

I looked Brook in the eyes and used my left arm and hand to cover my nipples.

“Come on, Cutie. Show me what you have,” Brook teased.

I looked down, then back up and batted my eyes. That was probably too much because Brook started to laugh.

“You poor, shy, innocent thing,” she teased as she reached up and moved my arm so she could get the full effect.

Brook used a feather-light touch to trace every muscular bulge and ripple. She leaned forward and sucked my nipple into her mouth while playing with the other one. Brook then switched sides. I wondered if she’d learned this from Cindy last weekend or if she was working from my playbook. Brook looked up and made sure our eyes were locked.

“I’m going to rock your world,” she promised.

I shuddered in anticipation as she began to go downward, all the while licking and kissing my stomach. When Brook reached my beltline, she looked up again and then undid my pants. She soon had them around my ankles. Brook gave me an evil grin when she saw that I was already aroused.

She began to tease me with little tugs, running her fingernails down my length, sucks, licks, and kisses. Brook was about to drive me crazy with desire. In the back of my mind, I vowed that I would pay her back. It was all I could do not to beg her to help me with my release.

Without warning, Brook took me into her mouth. My hips twitched, but the sudden pain kept me from becoming aggressive. I loved how Brook didn’t do the basic in-and-out. Right now, that would have been fine, given how ramped-up I was. Her tongue was alive, and she used varied cadence, depth, and pressure.

It all became too much, and I had a tremendous release. For a teenage boy, going almost two weeks caused a little bit of buildup. I think Brook thought my goal was to drown her. For me, it was one of the best orgasms of my life.

We took a break, and I poured us some more wine. We talked about inconsequentialities to give Mr. Happy a chance to recover. I was impressed that she’d been able to bring him down like that. He seldom failed to be ready to go after my first orgasm. When he began to stir, Brook noticed.

“My turn!” she announced.

I lay down on the living room rug, and Brook crawled on top of me. I was fine, flat on my back. I had an issue if I tried to twist or turn. I’m not sure what hurt more when I moved wrong, my hip or my cracked ribs.

We made out until Brook’s desire got the better of her and she decided I needed to return the favor. She planted herself on my face, and her thighs clamped down on my head to hold me in place. I grabbed her butt to help guide her as I pleasured her orally.

I was doing a great job, if I do say so myself, because she was making her happy grunting noises. That was when I figured out I had a problem. There was the exquisite feel of someone mounting Mr. Happy. I froze. Brook didn’t like that at all. She thumped my forehead to let me know I needed to get back to work. With her thighs clamped on my head, I hadn’t heard whoever was using Mr. Happy for their pleasure come into the room.

It was distracting, not knowing who the mystery girl was. I ruled out several options quickly, either because they had boyfriends, or because Brook would never allow them near me. It had to be someone she was comfortable with. In the back of my mind, I hoped that she felt a little attraction for them. Guys really are everything bad that women think of them. Our fantasies run straight to the gutter if given a chance. The scary part was that I suspected women were even worse.

Then I had to eliminate anyone that didn’t know the code to get past the gate. Cassidy was the first name that popped into my head. Brook had already allowed her to have sex with me. I also knew that Brook wasn’t worried about her trying to steal me away. What Brook didn’t know was that if Cassidy decided now was our time, I would be hard-pressed to turn her down. In the end, Brook would win out, but I would have to think about it.