The Flock of Luka
The Flock of Luka (9/18)
“So… When are you going to tell your family about us?” Bob asks. They’re at the stone, trousers pushed up above their knees with feet dangling in the water, pretending to be out on a long walk again.
Darren frowns. “I don’t… I don’t know, actually.” He hasn’t really thought of it yet, telling his parents and brothers that his dogs are humans as well.
“You understand that you do have to tell them, right?” Greta asks softly, leaning into Bob.
Darren nods, taking Chris’ hand, restlessly playing with the slender fingers. Chris nudges him with his shoulder, and he looks up, meeting the dark eyes. “It’ll be alright,” he promises.
“I know, I know, I just… I mean… How do I tell them, you know? How do I tell my parents that you’re the flock of Luka without having them send me to…I don’t know, a mental hospital, or something?” he asks, continuing to fidget with Chris’ hand.
“What if we show them, then?” Bob suggests putting an arm around Greta’s small shoulders. “Like, if we just walk in there in front of them?”
Darren shakes his head, dropping the hand in his lap, kicking the water surface, He listens to the splash. “No, I at least have to warn them or something, I don’t want them to have a heart failure. Or… scream and throw you out or… just… Just let me warn them.” He closes his eyes, inhaling the metallic scent of the pond. “When do they come back, by the way?”
“They’re supposed to get back in a few days, but they’re coming back tomorrow,” Greta answers, although he didn’t expect a reply.
“How do you know that?” He asks curiously. “I mean, you also told me that my brothers would come look for me, that day I found out about you…”
Greta shrugs. “I don’t know… I’ve just always been able to tell those kinds of stuff.”
Darren nods slowly, looking between Chris on his left and Bob on his right. “And you two, can you also tell?”
Bob shakes his head. “No, not like that… we can tell other things though,” he smiles and Darren’s expression urges him to continue. “Oh, I don’t know, but apparently I’m very good at convincing people to do various things… Nothing lethal.”
Darren turns to Chris, eyebrows raised. “And you? What do you do?” he asks, curious about why he haven’t been told about this, having spent so much time together.
Chris smirks slightly, letting his dark hair fall into his eyes as he leans closer. “I’ll show you later,” he promises in a whisper.
“Your brother’s,” Greta sighs and crawls to her feet, brushing dust from her dress. Bob and Chris follows her, and soon they’re back in their dog skins.
With a sigh similar to Greta’s, Darren stands and they begin to walk back to the far, dirt and mud sticking to his bare feet.
The minute they return to the house, Lewis comes up to them. “Good to have you back, thanks for all the help,” he says sarcastically but ruffles his brother’s hair playfully, earning a happy bark from Chris. Lewis smiles down at the dog, wiping his hands with a handkerchief. “Look, mom and dad just called; they’re coming back today –” Darren shares a look with the golden Cocker Spaniel “–and we need to clean the house – you do that, okay?”
Darren sighs miserably – because he really just hates cleaning – but nods. “Yeah, okay; I’ll do it.”
“Good,” his brother smiles, patting his shoulder before returning to the stables.
Darren frowns. “I don’t… I don’t know, actually.” He hasn’t really thought of it yet, telling his parents and brothers that his dogs are humans as well.
“You understand that you do have to tell them, right?” Greta asks softly, leaning into Bob.
Darren nods, taking Chris’ hand, restlessly playing with the slender fingers. Chris nudges him with his shoulder, and he looks up, meeting the dark eyes. “It’ll be alright,” he promises.
“I know, I know, I just… I mean… How do I tell them, you know? How do I tell my parents that you’re the flock of Luka without having them send me to…I don’t know, a mental hospital, or something?” he asks, continuing to fidget with Chris’ hand.
“What if we show them, then?” Bob suggests putting an arm around Greta’s small shoulders. “Like, if we just walk in there in front of them?”
Darren shakes his head, dropping the hand in his lap, kicking the water surface, He listens to the splash. “No, I at least have to warn them or something, I don’t want them to have a heart failure. Or… scream and throw you out or… just… Just let me warn them.” He closes his eyes, inhaling the metallic scent of the pond. “When do they come back, by the way?”
“They’re supposed to get back in a few days, but they’re coming back tomorrow,” Greta answers, although he didn’t expect a reply.
“How do you know that?” He asks curiously. “I mean, you also told me that my brothers would come look for me, that day I found out about you…”
Greta shrugs. “I don’t know… I’ve just always been able to tell those kinds of stuff.”
Darren nods slowly, looking between Chris on his left and Bob on his right. “And you two, can you also tell?”
Bob shakes his head. “No, not like that… we can tell other things though,” he smiles and Darren’s expression urges him to continue. “Oh, I don’t know, but apparently I’m very good at convincing people to do various things… Nothing lethal.”
Darren turns to Chris, eyebrows raised. “And you? What do you do?” he asks, curious about why he haven’t been told about this, having spent so much time together.
Chris smirks slightly, letting his dark hair fall into his eyes as he leans closer. “I’ll show you later,” he promises in a whisper.
“Your brother’s,” Greta sighs and crawls to her feet, brushing dust from her dress. Bob and Chris follows her, and soon they’re back in their dog skins.
With a sigh similar to Greta’s, Darren stands and they begin to walk back to the far, dirt and mud sticking to his bare feet.
The minute they return to the house, Lewis comes up to them. “Good to have you back, thanks for all the help,” he says sarcastically but ruffles his brother’s hair playfully, earning a happy bark from Chris. Lewis smiles down at the dog, wiping his hands with a handkerchief. “Look, mom and dad just called; they’re coming back today –” Darren shares a look with the golden Cocker Spaniel “–and we need to clean the house – you do that, okay?”
Darren sighs miserably – because he really just hates cleaning – but nods. “Yeah, okay; I’ll do it.”
“Good,” his brother smiles, patting his shoulder before returning to the stables.