A Perfect Day

Author's note--I'd love some comments on this one. Looking to make it more humorous, so if you've got any ideas, let 'em rip. Thanks!

The Perfect Day
By Sara King

         Edward held his breath as Speckles squatted over his neighbor's lawn, strain etched into her patchy white muzzle. She held that pose for one minute, two, then stood and moved on, leaving nothing in her wake.

         Edward checked his watch and cursed. He had to be at the DMV in the next twenty minutes or he wasn't going to be able to get his car registered this week. There was only one DMV in town that opened at five in the morning--an experimental attempt to try and coax the restless LA crowds into spreading out over an extra three hours before and after normal operating hours.

         Still, if Edward didn't get in line twenty minutes before opening, he wasn't going to be finished before daybreak. Already, the azure sky was getting dangerously close to pre-dawn.

         "Come on, Speckles," he said, willing the dog to finish her business. Speckles bounded in front of him, thinking he was playing.

         "No," Edward snapped, pointing back to his neighbor's lawn. "Go, damn it. I'm not gonna be able to walk you again today. I have stuff to do."

         Speckles panted up at him, oblivious. Twenty minutes and she hadn't even peed.

         "Goddamn it!" Edward glanced at his watch again and sighed--he supposed the dog having an accident in the house wasn't that horrible, in the grand scheme of things. Compared to getting caught outside after sunrise, a few turds wasn't exactly earth-shattering.

         Yet he'd just had his carpet shampooed.

         "Fine," he said, jerking her leash maybe a little too hard. "If you don't need to go in twenty minutes, you don't need to go." He dragged his mutt back to the house, shut her inside, and hurried to his car. He heard Speckles jump up on the door and whine as he got out his keys. Edward glanced at the car, then his keys, then back at the door.

         He went back and got the dog.

         "Hurry, hurry," he chanted under his breath, eying the ever-lightening sky.

         Once more, he held his breath as Speckles squatted.

         Nothing.

         The little bitch was beginning to piss him off.

         Tail wagging, Speckles sat down beside him and stuck out her tongue, wiggling her tail against the grass as she looked up at him. Edward stared at his dog, then at the spot she had just left. She hadn't even released a dribble. He would have smelled it.

         Rage welled up inside him before Edward squashed it. No. He was going to have a good day. He was going to celebrate.

         "Have it your way," Edward said. He hauled the dog back up the stairs, left her inside the house, and slammed the door. Immediately, she jumped up and began whining.

         "Get off the door!" Edward roared.

         The dog got down...for a minute. Then he heard her quietly place one paw on the door, then the other. As if the damn beast didn't think he could hear her. Sure enough, her spotted head appeared in the door window, peeking at him over the edge.

         Edward bared his teeth.

         Speckles dropped back to the floor immediately. And started whining. It was the high-pitched, desperate whine of a dog about to shit herself.

         Grimacing, Edward yanked open the door of his Subaru, sat down on the threadbare seat, and slammed the door shut hard enough to rattle the entire vehicle. He could deal with the dog later. He was going to enjoy himself today. He'd waited all year for this moment and he wasn't going to let a damn dog ruin it.

         Now all he had to do was get his car registered at the DMV. God, what a pain in the ass. He fired up the Subaru and backed out of the driveway, then took off toward the decrepit little office complex.

         Halfway there, he got pulled over for a broken tail-light.

         Sitting in the car, waiting as the officer took his license-plate and called it in with dispatch, Edward could not believe it. He watched the horizon slowly grow brighter, increasing by the moment, now.

         "Look, officer," Edward began, when the fat, bald bastard finally decided to come talk to him and give him the news. "I really don't have time to--"

         "License and registration," the officer said as he wrote out a ticket in his handy little pad. "Gonna have to write you up on that windshield, too. Can't be tinted like that, son."

         Edward glanced again at the horizon, then slapped open his glovebox and handed over the requested documents.

         The officer grunted and took his time reading them. "You Edward P. Wright?"

         "Yes," Edward said, desperate now. "Please, just write the ticket."

         "You know your registration's expired, Eddie?"

         "It's Edward."

         "Says here you should've renewed it Tuesday, Eddie."

         "I couldn't," Edward said, bristling. "Look, I really need to go."

         The officer slowly lowered his pad and leaned both hands against the window, casually chewing gum as he looked down at him. "And why's that?"

         "The DMV--"

         "The DMV's open all day." More gum chewing.

         Edward's hackles prickled. "Write the ticket."

         "What's the hurry, Eddie-boy? We got all night." The officer never took his hands from the window-frame. Edward had the impulse to roll up the glass and crunch his fingers in the jamb. Instead, he smiled. Deeply.

         The officer stopped chewing his gum.

         "You know, you're absolutely right," Edward said, motioning at the deserted highway. "Please. Take your time. I imagine there's nothing else to do this time in the morning, anyway. Not many people around. It must get boring to patrol such a lonely stretch of road."

         The officer continued to stare at Edward's teeth even after he'd hidden them again. The man cleared his throat. "Uh. Huh. Well, I... Huh." The bald bastard cleared his throat again and straightened. He glanced at the ticket pad in his hand, then at Edward's license. He handed the latter back to him, minus the ticket. "You have a nice day there, Mr. Wright."

         "Thank you." Edward sped off, frustrated but reminding himself that he hadn't gotten a ticket and he still had time to finish the DMV...if he hurried. Nothing had gone wrong, per se. He just wasn't going to get at the head of the line. No biggie. He could still enjoy himself today.

         Or not. When Edward saw the line at the DMV already stretched out into the street, he fell into a morose silence.

         He could always put it off another week.

         And have the dog shit on the carpet twice for the same stupid slip of paper?

         Muttering, Edward climbed out of his beater and slammed the rickety door. He wanted to have his plate cleaned for tonight's celebration. The last thing he wanted to do was worry about his registration.

         Edward scanned the DMV line, cursed, then chose a likely candidate to let him cut in. She was about five feet tall, with arthritis that made her fingers look like knobby strings of pearls, her hair as white as his skin. She was bent over her cane with a permanent downward-stare due to advanced osteoperosis.

         Edward fluffed his hair, adjusted the wrinkles from his shirt, and put on his debonair half-smile, the one that made ladies' hearts flutter in the mall. He approached her. "Excuse me, ma'am, but I'm really late for--"

         "Screw off," the old lady said to the ground.

         Edward blinked. "I must be at Barnes and Noble by six. My whole day's going to be ruined if I can't--"

         "I gotta go get a Pap Smear from a crotchety old fart who's gonna lecture me on smoking and drinking and eating when the fat pig weighs three hundred pounds and chokes down pizza and a six-pack every night, then I gotta go chew on tasteless, soft-shelled tacos at a Mexican restaurant while my daughter-in-law and her eight spoiled little brats eat the chips and salsa without me. My dentures are being cleaned and my insurance won't pay for another pair while the dentist's got 'em. You ever eaten Mexican food without teeth, boy? Didn't think so. Go get your skinny ass back in line and wait like everybody else."

         Edward grimaced and moved further up the line.

         "Prick!" the old woman called after him.

         Edward ignored her, but when none of the other people in line were any more understanding towards his needs, he began to get irritated. It's going to be fine, he thought, staring at his watch. He could handle waiting in line.

         And he did, though just barely. He occupied himself with delicious thoughts of how he would spend the rest of the night. Ah, yes, it was going to be delectable. He could see it now. All the screaming, all the blood...

         "I said next!" the bearded woman at the counter snapped. Edward blinked. He was at the front of the line, several disgruntled DMV patrons glaring at him as he held up progress. He hurried to the booth.

         "What do you want?" the bearded woman demanded. At first, Edward had thought it was a trick of the light, but once he was closer, he saw that yes, she really did have a beard.

         "I, uh..." Edward dropped his papers on the counter. "Here's my license and my old registration. I just need to--"

         "This is expired," the bearded woman said, giving his paper a cursory glance.

         "I know," Edward said, gritting his teeth. "That's why I'm here."

         "We don't do registrations," the bearded woman said. She jerked a thumb at a bigger, longer line, one that snaked out the other door and down the street. "Drivers' tests and vehicle transfers only."

         Edward's eyes caught on the pile of forms labeled REGISTRATION in the file-bin to her left. He narrowed his eyes. "Look. I really have to get this done...George?" He blinked at the name, then back at the woman's face, now unsure if he was looking at a man or a woman.

         "Of course you do," she said. "Just not at my booth. Sorry."

         She wasn't sorry. Edward could tell. He had a brief glimpse of himself chomping down on her neck, then smiled politely. "I would really appreciate a break here."

         She either did not see his teeth or did not care. The bearded wench actually yawned. Then she leaned to one side, glanced behind him, and shouted, "Next!"

         I can't eat her. Too many witnesses.

         Then, Maybe later. She'll keep a few days.

         That thought cheered him some, but Edward was still fuming as he turned and strode from the room, his registration crumpled in a fist.

         On the sidewalk outside, he saw a teenager decked out in a baggy Spiderman T-shirt and bookbag, skateboarding across the parking lot. Edward halted in his tracks, eyes riveted to the Spiderman shirt. The kid kept skating, in no particular rush, obviously on his way to school.

         Edward stopped him as he skated past. "Hey. You like Spiderman?"

         "Dude. He's the best." The kid hopped off his board and caught it with a fancy flourish, mid-air. He grinned at Edward. "Why?"

         "Because he's my favorite." Edward sized him up. One of the smart types that took up skateboarding out of a need to rebel from the ever-increasingly constraining rules of society. Comics probably played the same role in the kid's life as the four-wheeled slab of wood he now hugged to his side.

         Excellent.

         "I'm Alan," the kid said, extending his hand. "Spidey's the bomb."

         "Edward," he said, shaking it. "And I agree," he said, smiling carefully.

         Lowering his hand, Alan said, "So you got a collection or what?"

         Edward could not contain his glee. "What would you say if I told you I've got signed copies of the first eighty original issues?"

         The kid snorted. "I'd say you're full of shit."

         "No," Edward said. He nodded at the kid's T-Shirt. "The Amazing Spiderman. All of 'em signed by the writers or artists. A couple even by Stan Lee. Mint condition."

         "Then you're a sucker. That dude on Ebay or wherever you got 'em was a crook." But the kid was interested. He had that gleam in his eye.

         Edward set the hook. "No, man. I've been collecting them since I was your age. Missed a couple issues in the early '70's 'cause I got...sick."

         "Seriously?" Alan still didn't believe him.

         "Yeah." Edward shrugged. "Just saw your shirt and wanted to see if you were a fan. I'll talk Spiderman all day if you'll let me. Anyway, see you. Gotta get to the bookstore to buy the next installment."

         Alan frowned. "It's out already?"

         "Two days early," Edward said, bobbing his head happily. "Found out this morning on the Marvel blog."

         "Wow," Alan said. "Spiderman's gonna fight Spawn again this issue. Been waiting for that all year."

         "I know what you mean," Edward said, delighting in the kid's innocence. "Hell, I'd love to show you my stash. You wanna come over, you can. You got any friends who like comics?"

         "Yeah," Alan said, looking at the ground and shifting feet. "They're more into Wolverine, though. Seriously? You got the first eighty?"

         "Yeah. And bring your friends along," Edward said. "I'll show 'em why Spidey's the best. You got a few hours tonight? I'll take you guys through the first three arcs. Some of the art is just the shit."

         The kid's jaw just about hit the floor. "You actually touch them?"

         "Hell, yes, I touch them," Edward said. "No point in having them if you're not gonna read them. I don't collect things just to collect. That's a waste." He grinned. "Besides. I'd be happy to introduce a couple more young people into the cult."

         The boy's eyes went wide and Edward realized too late he'd bared the wrong teeth. Quickly, he gave the kid his address, said his courtesies, and made his exit, hoping he hadn't ruined his chances of entertaining young blood that evening.

         The skyline was really starting to worry him by the time he got to Barnes and Noble, selected a handful of comics, including the all-important Amazing Spiderman, and got to the checkout line.

         Too late, he realized the checkout he'd chosen said CLERK IN TRAINING. The pimply kid gave him a nervous smile and started fumbling through the transaction. He scanned one of the comics twice.

         "Oh, sorry," the kid said. "Let me fix that." He moved to the register, then furrowed his brow at the display, obviously trying to puzzle out which buttons he needed to push to void the last purchase.

         In the windows outside, the sun was rising.

         "I really need to hurry," Edward said.

         The kid flushed a deep scarlet and swallowed hard. "Sorry, sir. Here. Let me just..." Before Edward could stop him, the kid hit a button that made the register beep at him. Then, every button the kid pushed thereafter produced an angry tone that grated on Edward's nerves.

         "I have to go," Edward said. "I'll check out at another line."

         The kid let him have the other magazines, but he continued to hold Amazing Spiderman in his hands, gaping down at it. "Wow, I didn't know it was out already. This is the one with Spawn."

         "Yes," Edward gritted. "It is." Then he frowned at the register. It read 30.45. Eyes on the rising sun, Edward reached into his wallet and took out a 50. "Look. I've gotta go. This should cover it." He reached for the magazine.

         The kid pulled it away. He was blushing, but he refused to give it up. "Sir, I can't take that. Your magazines only cost twenty five bucks because I double-scanned that one. You're giving me double."

         "I know," Edward said. "Keep the change."

         "Excuse me?" a new voice from behind the counter demanded. A man with a bright little MANAGER tag underneath his name stepped into view. "Sorry, sir, but we can't accept tips." He took the Amazing Spiderman from the kid and frowned at it, then at the register. "Jesus, Phil. What did you do?"

         As the two of them tried to backtrack and undo the kid's mistake, Edward began to seethe. He was already late. He was already going to hurt like hell from what itty-bitty rays were poking themselves over the mountain. He did not have time for this.

         Edward placed his hand on the counter and squeezed. His fingers sank into the wood. The creaking caught both the manager and the trainee's glances.

         "Perhaps you didn't hear me properly," Edward said, driving his fingers deeper into the mahogany. "You are making me late."

         Their mouths fell open.

         Edward reached out and took Amazing Spiderman from the manager's limp grasp, then yanked his fingers out of the counter and snatched another bill from his wallet. He set a hundred down beside the fifty. "Twenty-five is for the comics. The rest is to pay for damages." The way he said it, Edward made it clear that the 'damage' was going to be a lot more extensive if they tried to stop him from getting to his car. Then he smiled; the most pleasant, genteel smile he could manage, given the situation.

         Somehow, the trainee found his voice first. "Have a nice day," he whispered, his eyes wide.

         Edward nodded at him, then brusquely took his purchases and fled to his car.

         He was right. It hurt like hell. By the time he was sitting behind his wheel, he was rocking back and forth, grinding his teeth against the pain. And the sun wasn't even out yet.

         Edward peeled out of the driveway, leaving rubber on the parking-lot. Stupid, he thought. Stupid, stupid. Then he glanced at the comic crowning the pile on his seat and his face broke into a grin despite the pain.

         It was worth it.

         Once he was home, Edward wrapped himself up like something from a pharoah's tomb and rushed inside his house.

         Speckles had, indeed, needed to go.

         Several times, in fact.

         For a long time, vampire and dog merely stared at each other. Then, slowly, Edward lowered his comics on the couch and went to find some paper towels. Once he got it cleaned up, he gleefully settled into a reading frenzy.

         He was startled out of his comics later that night, when his doorbell rang. Edward hurried to the door and, gauging by the lack of light filtering through the curtains, it was around seven or eight. His visitors were here.

         Excellent.

         The Spiderman vs. Spawn comic had been everything it had been hyped up to be, the other miscellaneous comics had been decent, and he had three youngsters on his doorstep, begging to come in.

         The day couldn't possibly get any better.

         "Come in!" Edward said, motioning them inside. "Good to see you, Alan. Who are your friends?"

         Alan introduced them, then crooned over Speckles, who lapped at his hand as if he'd coated it with grease. Edward narrowed his eyes at her, then led his visitors upstairs, to his library. As they watched in amazment, he pulled out the boxes upon boxes of Spiderman comics and gave them each rubber gloves with which to handle the sensitive paper once he pulled them from their slipcases. Issue #1, in particular, drew great reverence, even from the two who proclaimed to favor Wolverine.

         Halfway through, Edward cleared his throat. "I haven't offered you food yet. I have beverages and sandwich-makings in the fridge. Alan, why don't you come help me get your friends something to eat?"

         "Sure," Alan said, in a state of oblivion after finding himself in the presence of such a perfect collection. He followed Edward from the room, casting wistful glances over his shoulder as he went.

         Edward took him to the kitchen, showed him the supplies. Seeing the food, Edward's own appetites lashed out, pounding at his veins, sapping the very life from his body. He cleared his throat, his eyes fixed on Alan's neck. "I've gotta go to the bathroom. Can you handle yourself here?"

         Alan nodded and took a bite of a sandwich he had made, grinning around the pastrami.

         "Good." Edward rushed from the room. And fed.

         Later, as Alan and his friends were leaving, Alan cocked his head at the stairs. "Where's Speckles? I haven't seen her all evening."

         "I'm sure she's just resting," Edward said. "Stop by again soon. Spiderman fans are welcome at my place anytime."

         The boys grinned and started down his stairs, babbling to themselves about what they'd seen. Edward sighed and closed the door. Then, slowly, a smile crept over his face. It looked like Speckles wouldn't be a problem when he went back to the DMV next week.

END

-Sara King
http://www.kingfiction.com