Incinerate

Chapter 10 - New Kid in School

My alarm cuts another flying dream short just before I splat onto the ground. The sun shines its early light into my room, greeting me like an old friend as I stretch and get out of bed. A warm shower helps me wake up even more, sending my muscles alive with its glorious restorative stream. Once clean and rid of intrusive shower thoughts (for example: Were Goofy and Pluto both dogs? What if oxygen is mildly noxious and it slowly kills us over time? Things aren't on fire; fire is on things.), I pick through my dresser for a good First Day of School outfit. Jeans, shorts, polos, and t-shirts galore, there are almost too many combinations to choose from. I eventually decide upon the Ash Woodward Starter Pack: khaki cargo shorts, gray tank top, plaid button-up on top, and red Hi-Top Converse sneakers.

As I add the final touches to my outfit (rolling the sleeves and putting on my silver watch), a furry figure nearly half the height of my doorway nudges the ajar door open. Cujo eyes me for a moment, head tilted to the side in slight confusion.

"First day of school, bud," I inform him, running my fingers through my short blond hair to make sure it's all in the correct place. "What's up?"

"Breakfast," he tells me as the scent of bacon and pancakes waft into my room.

"Thanks, I'll be down in a sec," I smile to him. He backs out of the doorframe and retreats down the stairs, likely to be served his own meal of kibble. If he's lucky, or if he whines enough, Mom might slip him a strip of bacon.

To my lack of surprise, I find Cujo chowing away at his bowl full of kibble, bits of bacon, and even a torn up pancake. Mom sits at the dining room table, enjoying her own almost empty plate. In the middle of the table sit three plates: bacon, pancakes, and scrambled eggs. Grabbing a plate of my own, I load it with all three.

"Ready for your first day?" Mom asks as I sit.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I reply, covering my food with enough syrup to drain Canada of all its sweet sticky splendor.

"Do you have all your notebooks? Your schedule?"

"Yeah, it's all in my backpack," I tell her. "I've done this rigamarole a few times now, Mom. I think I've got a handle on it by now."

"Just making sure," she says with a breath of a chuckle. She finishes off her last bite of eggs and her morning coffee, taking her dishes to the sink. On her way back to the table, she stops for a moment and places a soft kiss atop my head.

"I've gotta head to work," she says, passing over to the front door to the table's left. "Have a good day at school. Tell me all about it when I get home. Love you."

"Sure thing, Mom," I say with a mouthful of syrupy pancake. "Love you too."

The door opens and closes moments later. Cujo trots over to the table and takes a seat next to me. The handle of my plain black backpack sits between his teeth as he smiles up to me.

"Oh, thanks, buddy," I say as I finish another bite.

Cujo releases the handle from his jaw, but nudges it closer to me with his head.

"Trying to rush me out?" I chuckle.

"Don't be late," he urges.

"Let me finish breakfast first, okay?" I plead. "Then I'll head out."

Approving the compromise, he lumbers off back toward the living room. He hops up onto the couch and nestles into a comfy spot, laying his head on the headrest near the window.

Silly dog, I think.

Once I finish my food, I clean my dishes and get ready to leave. Cujo gets a loving pat on the head as I grab my backpack and head out the door. I lock it behind me, even though I feel like we would be fine leaving it unlocked. It's more for my own peace of mind than anything else, really. That said, I'm sure any burglar would run once Cujo started barking at them.