The Gold Incisor WC: 298

The Gold Incisor
WC 298

Carl was sitting on the curb, thumbing through a discarded newspaper. Brandy walked his way.

“Hello,” she said, “I’m Brandy.”

He waved a finger.

“I’ve seen you before. Thought I’d introduce myself.”

He grunted.

“Mind if I sit?”

He shrugged.

Brandy sat down next to him.

“Are you mute?”

He shook his head.

“Beautiful evening,” Brandy said.

Carl yawned, exposing a shiny gold incisor. Brandy glanced his way.

“What you lookin’ at?”

“He speaks,” she said, “That’s some tooth.”

Carl clamped his mouth shut and moved away.

“Don’t be scared. I’m harmless.”

“I’m not scared. Not scared of nuthin’!’”

“Sure is shiny.”

“Ya got yer eye on it, do ya?”

“Hard not to notice.”

“That why you popped a squat?” He was getting agitated. “You been watchin’ me, girlie? Stalkin’ me! Trying to nab my gold tooth!”

“I’m not a thief, sir!” Brandy jumped up and placed her hands on her hips.

Carl struggled to his feet. “Follow me home! Wait for me to fall asleep.”

“Please don't go,” Brandy said, assuming a less threatening position. “Just lonely. Thought you might be, too.”

“Well, maybe I’ll see you around. The name’s Carl,” he said and turned to leave.

“Don’t go, Carl. Please.”

“Streetlights just came on. Dark soon. Gotta get this fancy tooth home before the lowlifes skitter out from under their rocks.”

“Where’s home?”

“The alley.” He pointed. “Built me a duplex refrigerator carton house. Snug as a bug.”

“Sounds cozy,” Brandy said. “I’m on Warren, over by the tracks.”

“Not a bad camp,” Carl said. “Gotta go. Later.”

“Well, have a good evening, Carl.”

“Yeah, you, too.”

Carl headed toward home.

After a bit, Brandy rummaged through her purse, pulled out a pair of pliers, and walked in the direction of the alley.