SEAN ENNIS
Accounting
My father is a retired accountant and during a busy April he witnessed a horror show. At the home of one of his clients who were hoping he might perform some magic and get them a refund, he was greeted by the couple’s young son and their new puppy. The son was playing with a toy sword. I’m getting to the part.
Yes, the boy plucked out the dog’s eye with the sword by mistake. The eye, still connected, bobbed by the puppy’s chin. The puppy pawed at it—this is a detail my father always includes when telling the story. The boy began crying and the husband yelled to his wife to please stay in the kitchen. Of course, she didn’t, and when she saw the puppy, she threw up.
My father was home early that night, pale as laundry. When he returned weeks later to complete their taxes, he reported that the dog was fine, but lost the eye and depth perception, as well as love for the boy.
I recount this story occasionally, when I think of it, when conversation turns to parents or taxes, but not usually pets. It gets some shocked laughter. If the conversation hasn’t moved along, I add that years later, the one-eyed dog was hit by a car and died. I guess it depends on what type of mood I’m in. The moral quickly changes. I guess it says a lot about a person how they choose to interpret this.
We once had a dog that lost her leg to cancer. It wasn’t funny. The puppy we have now desperately wants inside the dishwasher or under the grill, an obsession that could kill her if we are not careful. I do wonder if the boy with the sword, probably an adult now, ever tells this story. It would be strange to blame him, but hurting animals is almost worse than hurting people for some people. Maybe his own son begs him for a puppy and he refuses, just leaves it at that.
My father doesn’t have many accounting stories as far as I can tell. His other favorite comes from when he was auditing a balking preacher and told him to “rend unto Caesar what is Caesar’s.” That’s direct from Jesus, the only time my father has quoted the Bible. It’s easy to see his moral code here. Of course, this is the opposite of the other story.
Switching gears, I woke up last night covered in hives, some mystery allergy. I was standing in my underwear in the kitchen while the whole family inspected my riotous skin, pink as laundry. It was embarrassing. I was asked to tell the story of my evening, which I did, emphasizing no exposure to known allergens, no spotting of poisonous insects in the bed. I itched. I had no reason to think my father was lying.
Sean Ennis is the author of CHASE US: Stories (Little A) and his flash fiction has recently appeared in New World Writing, Diagram, HAD, (mac)ro(mic) and No Contact. More of his work can be found at seanennis.net
Art by Meridith McNeal