Chapter Text
Jack Russell tapped his foot on the plain floor. He fiddled with the buttons of the register behind the counter. He slumped back into a tacky chair in a room with a blazing fan tucked into the ceiling corner. The sweat from his body started to stain his purple work shirt.
On this tropical Christmas day, Jack was by his lonesome in a dimly lit corner store. He turned his head to the window on his right. The small window only showed the vibrant color of the Brizzie blue sky, with the shining sun just out of its frame. He didn’t care to look towards the creaky glass entrance door that hadn’t moved for eight full hours. The clouds passing him by in their slow drift were the only thing that had even made a small motion on this wasted Saturday afternoon. Jack looked upon an empty city. One previously full of a ruckus of commotion was now just filled with the occasional seagull lost from its flock.
This Saturday afternoon, one that Jack had experienced so many times before, was just as eventful as being in slumber. But this repeated Saturday of sitting in the dingo’s corner store by himself was a day of disengagement. Jack was now lost in his own thoughts. The boredom of a desolate shop turned into the beauty of a delightful summer. For those days, walled in on a forgotten spot of the city, he could let life slowly pass him by like a cloud passing along the sky. Jack couldn’t look away from the picturesque scene of the small window. Even as the blinding rays of sun started to peek through the window into the sky of azure wash, he couldn’t look away.
Jack couldn’t look away from the picturesque scene of the small window.
He didn’t look at the store’s knick-knacks.
He didn’t look at the old toys.
He didn’t look at the dusty DVD collection.
He didn’t see the creaky door open for the first time all day.
He didn’t see a red kelpie perusing the store.
He didn’t see the kelpie walk to the counter with a face of disbelief.
And then he heard somebody calling his name.
“Jack? Is that you Jack?”
Jack was now brought back down to reality. He bolted his head back towards the front and got up from the foldable seat. He immediately got into the stance that his manager had badgered him to keep at all times. Jack started to prepare his apologies to the inconvenienced customer.
“SORRYSORRYSORRY, I’m sorry for the inconvenience of my poor service today, The Dingo’s Corner provides discounts to inconvenienced customers, if you’d–”
Jack finally saw the face of the dog that was standing in front of the counter. The dog standing in front of Jack looked as if he had just seen a ghost. His eyes were wide with confused shock. His yellow snout quivered in surprise. As an awkward silence filled the room, Jack got a better look at the dog’s features. He was a red kelpie coated in light crimson fur. But his paws, ears, and the diamond patch on his chest were so golden that they still managed to radiate in the flaming Queensland sun. He looked just like somebody Jack knew a long time ago. He looked just like…
Jack knew exactly who the kelpie standing in front of him was. Yes, he was bigger, taller, and older than when Jack had last seen him, but he was unmistakable.
“Oh… uh… Hi Rusty, um… it is g-good to uh-see you… again.”
In an instant, the kelpie’s expression turned into one of jubilant joy. A ten-inch wide smile appeared across his face as his maroon tail started to wag faster than the ceiling fan.
“Jack! It is you! It has been too long! How long has it been, eight years?” Rusty elatedly exclaimed.
“Um… I think it has been n-nine,” Jack nervously responded.
“Nine whole years! Not even a little chat since Glasshouse. And you look just the same as you did when you were twelve! Except for that purple shirt, that looks ridiculous on you. We should catch up, are you free now?”
“Well-uh, I’m on my shift, I can’t r-really do many things that involve being f-free right now, my manager won’t r-really like that, and–”
“Jack, is your manager here?"
"N-no…"
"And how many dogs have you seen since sunrise?”
“Well…”
Jack paused for a moment as he collected his memories of the past few hours.
“Well there is y-you of course, I think there was a shepherd walking by who l-looked a bit hungover, and… Uh…”
“That’s it, right?” Rusty interrupted.
“Um… uh… Yeah, I think th-that is it,” Jack timidly answered.
“Come on Jack, it’s a sunny Christmas Day, everybody is on holiday, and the whole city is as empty as it can be. So why don’t I stay a while?”
Rusty glanced around the store until he saw an empty revolving chair next to the counter. He walked towards the chair before Jack interrupted him.
“R-Rusty, you are not allowed to sit on that. Th-that is the manager’s chair, and I you a-aren’t the manager. Could you like-um, find somewhere else to sit?”
“Jack, I can guess that this manager of yours isn’t here right now, so if he doesn’t know I’m here, then why should we care about what he thinks?”
As Jack sat in silence to Rusty's question, Rusty made his way to sit on the black chair placed adjacent to the store's counter. Jack started to tap his left foot on the vinyl floor during the brief period of quiet. Rusty started to speak again when he sat down.
“So how has life been treating you for the past few years?” Rusty questioned.
“It’s been… Okay… I think… I’m s-sorry I can’t really think of things to say right now,” Jack replied.
“No, no, don’t apologize, it’s all okay! I'll start first. Uni has been pretty great. I was studying abroad in India for the last semester, but I’m back for winter and will stay here for the next few months. You should go to Delhi for once, they go crazy for cricket over there.”
Jack tried to maintain eye contact as Rusty spoke, but eventually, his eyes wandered off. Even though his ears were hearing every word Rusty was saying, he couldn’t control his perpetually moving eyes. His attention shifted to the window opposite the counter. Jack noticed what looked like the top of a red-plated vehicle peeking out from the bottom of the window.
“Have you ever tried studying abroad at all Jack?” Rusty asked.
Jack’s vision shot back to Rusty in an instant as he asked his question.
“Ah, um… studying abroad. I guess I just um… Never r-really wanted to do it,” Jack shakily retorted.
“You have what, three more semesters left? That is enough time to get out of Brisbane and explore the world,” Rusty said with confidence.
“You-you know, the whole getting away from Brisbane th-thing was something that Lulu did. She got out of high s-school and then she just kind of left by August. I g-guess she just really hated it here.”
“Little sisters just want to fly away from home. Dusty left so quickly I barely got the chance to say goodbye. She may have learned that from her older brother though."
Jack mildly chuckled at Rusty's self-deprecating comment. He smiled slightly as he listened to Rusty continue talking.
"Home wasn't providing anything for her anyway. Imagine working day and night at Brushland High just to get into less universities in Queensland than a bulldog who picked his nose in class every day," Rusty snarkily stated.
"That sounds like a… weird acceptance pattern… I guess Brushland is j-just… um… Brushland," Jack cyclically commented.
"Oh, I just remembered, I never got to ask you why you never went to Brushland after Glasshouse. Kinda strange not seeing you there for the first few weeks, it was a bit confusing not seeing you there at first.”
The smile on Jack’s face started to droop as he heard Rusty speak. He started scratching his right leg. The tapping of his foot became mildly audible.
“W-w-well… I didn’t g-go to Brushland b-because I… because I… I just d-didn’t g-get in. I j-just didn’t g-get in. I th-think I-I just d-didn’t really m-make the um… cut,” Jack stammered out.
“Really? I don’t think I have ever heard of somebody getting rejected from Brushland. Pretty much everybody from Glasshouse went there, it doesn’t really strike me as the type of school to turn people away,” Rusty pried.
“W-well, I j-just um… I just d-didn’t… um…”
Yet again Jack's eyes wandered to the opposite window.
"Hey R-Rusty, is t-the car th-that is p-parked on the o-other side of the window like… y-yours?" Jack pivoted.
"Ah, that?" Rusty rhetorically questioned. "I just bought it yesterday. It’s the newest PupPudel. It cost me a tail and a paw to get, but it's beautiful.”
“D-don't those cars, like… explode?"
"No, no, no, no, that was the PupPudel 500, this is the PupPudel 600. Very different."
"Well… I guess I can kind of see it that way. But i-isn’t it like… a little bit scary to drive around in that thing all of the time?”
"No, no, I’m not driving a bomb, I'm fine," Rusty said defensively.
"I will t-trust you, but like um… it still b-bothers me.”
“If I can drive around Brisbane for a few hours without difficulty, then I can be spared the worry.”
"Okay, I’ll stop p-pestering you about that. But um… If you are driving such a fancy car, why are you even here in a very r-random part of the city?”
“Well for one, this is the only corner store crazy enough to be open on Christmas Day.”
“Um… uh… Yeah, that’s a g-good point.”
Rusty guffawed at Jack's light remark. He loudly laughed for what felt like several minutes. The speed at which his red tail wagged increased tenfold. The energy that already emanated out of him grew more radiant. As Rusty laughed, Jack continued to scratch his leg while he rapidly tapped his foot on the floor.
“H-hey, um… Rusty, that really wasn’t that f-funny…” Jack quietly interjected.
“ha-HA-ha-hick-hick, sorry, sorry, sometimes there’s stuff that surprises me,” Rusty responded as he wiped away tears of laughter from his eyes. “If I made you feel uncomfortable, my bad.”
“N-n-n-no,” Jack said. “It’s not… It's fine. It’s f-fine. I’m not really t-too uncomfortable.”
“Okay, I actually need to answer your question. I wanted to buy fireworks for New Years early since they usually all get sold out by Boxing Day.”
"F-fireworks. Yeah, we did get a lot of p-people on the 31st of last year trying to buy some. There was a lot of y-yelling that day from Alfie and this one spaniel. Um… Alfie is the name of my manager, by the way, I should have probably said that b-before."
"Well put me down there with your manager and that spaniel. I blew out my voice when I was buying fireworks a year ago at Hammerbarn."
"I can't really see you s-screaming like that over something like fireworks."
"Ah, just had a little bit of a hiccup then. Indy and I have an annual tradition where we light a few fireworks on New Year's Eve. I really look forward to those moments with her every year. That would've been the first year in a while without it.”
“Yeah, um… uh…"
Jack lost eye contact with Rusty again. His vision drifted towards the tall shelves at the very back of the shop. On the shaky shelves square in the small store's stern sat fifteen fiery fireworks of a firebrick finish. The packaging of the firebrick fireworks was littered with sparkling lights that blinked on and off every few seconds. As Jack's gaze stuck to the back shelf fireworks, he finally responded to Rusty.
"Um… uh… so you and uh-Indy are um… still… together? A-are you still?" Jack hesitantly asked.
"Oh, yes, we are still together. After all these years, we have stuck it out through it all," Rusty answered in conviction.
"That's-that's-t-that's um… good-uh for you two. I am g-glad y-you are st-still h-happy to-to-together," Jack spoke out as the pace of his foot tapping increased.
Rusty’s smile started to falter as he noticed Jack’s scratching and tapping.
"Jack, you look a little concerned about something. Was it something about Indy that I said?"
The tapping of Jack's foot on the floor echoed across the room. Jack scratched his leg to the point where his white fur started to fall off of his body.
"Jack… Do you still not have anybody? Are you still searching for a girl?"
In the instant that Rusty finished his question, Jack stopped moving. The scratching stopped. The tapping stopped. In this instant, Jack's gaze pierced onto the hard white tiles that littered the floor. And then, Jack fully turned his attention back to Rusty.
"Um… ye-yes, yes, that is um… that's-um, it. I-um am searching for a g-g-gir-um… someone. I am s-searching f-for someone, and it is um… not going ex-exactly the b-best right n-now, but I am l-looking," Jack replied with a light smile on his face.
"That's great! Fantastic even! You always seemed a bit lonely during the final few years of primary, and I am glad you are finally getting out there!" Rusty assuredly exclaimed.
"Yeah, y-yup, I am very h-happy about it. Um… if you were l-looking for the f-fireworks, they are um… on the shelves in the back."
"Really?"
Rusty turned around the manager's chair to the back of the store.
"Wow, they really are there. Thanks Jack!" Rusty said as he got up from the chair.
Rusty started to walk towards the fireworks section as Jack's eyes were locked onto Rusty. As Rusty returned to the counter with four firebrick flashing fireworks in his paws, he went up to the front of the counter instead of sitting back down. While standing at the front of the counter, he turned his head facing to the store's glass door.
"Wow, the sun has set already," Rusty said in mild wonder.
Jack turned to the window to his right to see that the afternoon's blue cerulean had turned into dusk's ember flush.
"I th-think I have to close up in like… an hour. Um… I have to go to my parents' house for Christmas dinner," Jack timidly added.
"Ah, I do too actually. So I will just buy these and mosey on out of here," Rusty said.
“Well-well… then I guess that is g-goodbye then?”
“Oh, I forgot, I didn’t get your phone number,” Rusty said as he pulled out his phone.
“It's uh… It's zero, seven, two… um… five, four… no, four, f-five, one, um… uh…”
Jack looked downwards. His eyes locked onto the piece of paper titled “DINGO’S CORNER SHIFT HOURS” attached to the counter. He found his name and designated hours in the bottom half of the paper, and with it, his phone number.
“Zero, seven, five, five, four, one, two, two, nine, eight,” Jack said in relative clarity.
“Great! Then I guess I’ll see you again soon?” Rusty said as he tapped Jack’s number into his phone.
“Y-yeah… s-soon…”
With his fireworks in hand, Rusty walked towards the door that led to Brisbane's dark desolate desert. For the few moments that he could still see him, Jack's eyes didn't waver from the red kelpie’s back. He watched as Rusty walked through the glass door out to a gloomy Christmas night. Even in the pitch black of night, the golden patches of Rusty's fur and skin radiated in the dark. Not even the flashing lights of the fireworks’ packaging could radiate more brightly than his yellow paws. And when he walked around the corner towards his PupPudel, the glass door became a black screen once again.
Five minutes before the empty store closed, Jack Russell looked at the plain floor. Scattered through were hairs of white fur that blended into the floor's vinyl surface.
Four minutes before the empty store closed, he fiddled with his five fingers on the surface of the counter.
Three minutes before the empty store closed, he looked at his manager's chair, with little strands of red fur sparsely spread out across its surface.
Two minutes before the empty store closed, he looked towards the back shelves of fireworks in the rear end.
One minute before the empty store closed, he looked towards the back shelves of fireworks in the rear end.
When the empty store closed, he looked towards the back shelves of fireworks in the rear end.
One minute after the empty store closed, he looked towards the back shelves of fireworks in the rear end.
And then he looked at the time.
Jack quickly gathered himself. He took off his purple shirt and put it into his gray bag under the counter before putting it over his shoulder. He got up from his foldable chair and walked over to the light switch placed next to the door. After Jack flipped the switch that powered the light of the store, the darkness of the outside night invaded the last bastion of Brisbane light. In the late hours of this Saturday, Jack walked out of the corner store he had been holed in for the past ten hours. With a brisk breeze blowing across his skin, he breathed in a gust of fresh air. On his wasted Saturdays, this moment was one where Jack smiled at the dark sky. On this eventful Saturday, Jack held a blank expression. The outside wind felt stale. The cool air didn't provide relief. Jack turned back to the store. He couldn't see the counter, the chairs, the old toys, or the dusty DVD collection. But he could see the radiant packaging of eleven fireworks, tucked away in the rear end.