Dentistry

Somehow, his last meal had managed to wiggle away from him and bash his teeth in with a baseball bat. It hadn’t concerned him at the time, because he’d always healed immediately before. In fact, his skin, those tender lips of his and his gums were back to their usual condition before he’d tracked the little witch down. Unfortunately, he discovered, just as he was about to enjoy dinner, one of his fangs remained jagged and painful to the touch. He made a horrible mess of the meal because of it. The worst part was the ensuing obsession and worry. He couldn’t keep his fingers or his tongue off of it and he began to question his own immortality. None of the others had ever related such an experience. Not surprising, he decided, they never really told him much. Maybe, he thought, it meant he was growing old and feeble. He tried to remember how old he was, but contemplating it made his tooth ache even more. The oldest memory he had was watching a man in a powdered wig ride away on a black horse. Whatever that meant. In any case, after several days he couldn’t stand it anymore and sought out the others for their advice.

They had a support group of sorts in the basement of an abandoned building on Ninth Street. The structure housed a bakery once and a hint of cinnamon and sugar still hung in the air. They had chosen to hold their meetings in it for that reason, claiming the scent reminded them of their humanity. He went around to the back and let himself in. There were two large rooms, the second being darker and somewhat larger making it the preferred meeting place. He drew in a deep breath, enjoying the aroma and admitting there was something faintly comforting about it. Collin was whining in the next room about his most recent dining experience and the others were making soft sympathetic sounds. For a moment, he considered leaving them to it, but he took another deep breath and forced his feet forward. They’d invited him to join the group some time ago, but he’d passed on the invitation. All they did was moan and groan about the horror of it all, and how tragic their lives were. They were also given to frequent ravings over not being given a choice, but being forced into this life. He found them tiresome. After all, he really liked the horror in his life.

As soon as he poked his head around the corner, Collin broke off his nauseating recital while the others stared at him in surprise. Collin was the first to recover. “Hey old man,” he greeted him jovially. “Decided to take us up on our invitation and join us?”

“Hardly,” he muttered.

“What brings you here then, Simeon?” Collin asked, his round face covered in smiles. A tender-hearted pediatrician before the change, Collin was always ready with a concerned manner.

“Well,” Simeon started, suddenly feeling somewhat embarrassed. “A funny thing happened the other night and I was hoping…”

“He’s talking funny,” Cynthia interrupted. She glared at him suspiciously.

Nothing new there, miss former CIA agent was always looking for a plot of some kind. Too bad too, if she wasn't so prickly she'd be quite attractive, he decided. “I was coming to that,” he explained, only to be cut off again.

“There, did you hear it,” she demanded. “What’s wrong with you?”

Instead of trying to answer he bared his teeth, pulling up his lip slightly so they could all see. They fell back with a collective gasp. There was a long silent minute and then they burst into excited and confused chatter.

“How can that be?”

“It’s horrible, can it happen to us?”

“What does it mean?”

“Things can break?”

“Well sure, things break,” Collin finally commented, “but they never stayed broken before.”

“How about some constructive advice?” Simeon said, letting go of his lip and temporarily covering the evidence. Everyone fell silent, thinking.

“Well,” Cynthia murmured. “I know this dentist, maybe he can do something. I understand they can fix just about anything these days.”

“You never told us you knew a dentist,” Collin said. The others nodded their heads emphatically.

Cynthia went over to her chair and retrieved a small black handbag. “I handled a marital problem for him,” she told them as she rummaged through the bag. Pulling out a card, she crossed back over to him and slid it onto his palm. “Here’s his name and address, but don’t go over there tonight. He’s rather timid and I doubt he’d be much help if you just showed up at the door. I’ll call him and explain the problem for you.”

“Thank you, Cynthia,” he smiled, taking the card. He was just about to tell her how much he appreciated her help, when she gave him a saucy wink and blew him a kiss. It was so uncharacteristic, he had to laugh and he went home in better spirits.

***********************************************

The next night, he made his way to the address on the card. There was a solid wood door with brass fixtures and a nameplate that read:


M. Reynolds D.D.S D.M.T


The door opened before he could knock and a little fat man stuck his head out. “Are you Simeon Greuder?” he asked, his voice squeaking slightly.

“That’s right,” he responded and was quickly ushered in. He followed Reynolds down a hall into a room with a dental chair and lots of fascinating equipment. When had he last been to the dentist, he mused. Well, they weren’t called dentists then so it must have been awhile. He allowed Reynolds to examine his tooth, listening to the ‘hmmms’ and ‘ohhhs’ with trepidation.

After some time, Reynolds sat back with a sigh. “I don’t think this will be too hard to fix. I’m going to give your teeth a thorough cleaning too. They look like you haven't brushed in a hundred years.” Reynolds got busy and fussed around, taking impressions and measuring. There was a lot of talk about casting his own dentures and making his own molds and such. Simeon understood very little of it. The cleaning was positively annoying, but his teeth did feel marvelous afterwards. Just when he was getting antsy and thinking he might be spending the day holed up in the closet, Reynolds stood up and gave him a satisfied smile. “My best job yet,” he announced. “Now, I think your teeth are probably naturally prone to break. Not enough calcium in your diet. I suppose it could be considered a disability of sorts, for your kind anyway. You need to brush regularly and floss. Take some calcium tablets, that should keep the other one in tip top shape.”

Simeon ran his tongue tentatively over the tooth. It was smooth, sharp and felt just like his real tooth. Better than that, the pain was gone. “I appreciate this so much,” he said holding out his hand. “What do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” Reynolds assured him, shaking his hand with a surprisingly firm grip. “I owed Cynthia a big favor and it was a pleasure to even the score.” He shoved a bag at Simeon and hustled him out the front door.

Dawn was coming, but Simeon took a moment to look in the bag. There was a paper instructing him on the care of his new tooth along with a free toothbrush, a tiny tube of toothpaste and a package of dental floss, mint flavored. He was so elated he almost skipped home, and when he saw the cute blonde on the corner he couldn’t resist trying his new tooth out. It performed perfectly, and he arrived home in the best mood he’d been in for years. He should do something for the others, he decided. They’d really come through for him, even after he’d been rather antisocial. He went into the bathroom and put away his freebies, keeping out the floss. Tearing off some, he tried it a couple of times. Not bad, he thought, the mint seemed to help remove the aftertaste of blonde bombshell. By the time the sun was fully up, he was in bed with a clean mouth, dreaming of the party he intended to throw and that little tease Cynthia.