Something Wonky This Way Comes

by Jeff Baker

Some of the lights over the convenience store parking lot were burned-out, giving it a shadowy creepy look. The tall redheaded kid and his dog, a small mixed-breed hopped out of the car and headed for the store.

“Hey, guys! Howzit goin?” Said a slurred voice.

Benjy Baxter looked over to see a beat-up white Mustang with a pair of legs in jeans with bare feet sticking out of the passenger side. He waved politely, as his parents had taught him to be, then addressed the dog in a low voice.

“Gosh, Wonky! Remember, this isn’t our side of town!” Benjy opened the door and he walked inside, the dog trotting in after him.

“Hey! You can’t bring that dog in here!” the big clerk said from behind the register.

“This isn’t a dog, sir,” Benjy said. “I mean, he is a dog but not just a dog. This is Wonky, the TV dog.”

The clerk stared down at the dog who was sitting on the floor, looking up as bright-eyed and appealing as he could make himself.

“Well, I’ll be! It IS Wonky! My kids used to watch him every afternoon!” the clerk said, beaming. “But I thought he’d be, you know…”

Benjy smiled. “This is the second Wonky, he was just a puppy when they moved the show to cable six years ago.”

“Well, Wonky can come in as long as he doesn’t make a mess.”

“Don’t worry, he’s trained,” Benjy said. “We’ll just be a minute or two.”

Being the guardian to Wonky was a pretty good job, Benjy thought. His Uncle had trained both dogs (Little Wonk being the older one’s puppy) and had Benjy appear on the show sometimes where Wonky helped introduce cartoons and reruns of shows like “The Man Upstairs.” But the Nineties were almost over and local shows were being canceled. But Wonky was still a big local celebrity and he and Benjy did local TV and radio appearances, usually for the local animal adoption centers. It beat grilling burgers and besides, the first Wonky had been a shelter dog.

Benjy grabbed a burrito for himself and got a bottle of water for Wonky as the burrito was microwaving. When it was done he walked up to the cashier, Wonky trotting happily behind him.

“Okay, this’ll do it,” Benjy said. “The Burrito’s mine the water’s his.”

“You buy him bottled water?” laughed the clerk.

“Actually he bought me the burrito,” Benjy said with a grin. “It’s his money after all.”

“I bet he made some,” the clerk said ringing up the order.

“Yeah, he’s living of those HealthyDog commercials,” Benjy said. “And off the free HealthyDog biscuits and food they give him.”

“Interesting life,” the clerk said.

“Bet it gets real interesting around here,” Benjy said.

“Usually around Eleven-Forty-Five, right before the beer sales stop,” the clerk said. “But it stays pretty quiet after that.”

Benjy waved goodbye and he and Wonky walked out to the parking lot. But wonky stopped, sniffed the air and growled.

“What’s the matter boy?” Benjy said. “You smell cat?”

Wonky suddenly ran to the Mustang and jumped up and latched on to one of the protruding bare feet with his jaws as Benjy looked on in shock thinking of lawsuits.

“Wonky, NO!” Benjy yelled.

In another instant, Wonky slid down the car door with what looked like a manikin leg pulled out from the pant leg.

“Oh, golly!” Benjy said.

Wonky looked around and ran to the darkened side of the convenience store. Benjy followed. There was a growl and a yell. Benjy found Wonky wrestling with the real owner of the real legs who was prying open a side door.

“I’ll call the cops!” Benjy yelled, running for the front door.

When it was all over, Benjy and Wonky heard the story from the clerk. Disgruntled employee, prop legs so he’d look like he was still in the car from the window, and he knew which security cameras weren’t working and he was probably the one who had shot out the light casting the side of the parking lot in darkness so the man could slip out the passenger side while the clerk thought he was still “sleeping it off” in the car when he was really robbing the safe in the back office.

“Yeah, the manager needs to replace the cameras and change the combination,” the clerk said.

“Yeah, especially in a tough neighborhood like this,” Benjy said.

“Hey, if you think this neighborhood is so tough, why did you come to this store in the middle of the night?” asked the clerk.

Benjy grinned. “I grew up around here! I got caught breaking into one of these places when I was about eleven! My Uncle took me in and made me turn my life around!” He bent down and scratched the dog between the ears. “Or I might have wound up a shelter animal too!”

—end—

AUTHOR’S NOTE: My late Husband Darryl had never heard the word “wonky” (which I use a lot) and suggested I do a story about “Wonky The Dog.” He even suggested the title! (Thanks, Honey!)

When I started the story I was going for a “Buster the Show Dog” vibe, more sarcastic like the Prairie Home Companion sketches from 40 years ago. The story changed as I wrote it and I didn’t see Benjy’s last lines coming!

I grew up on a lot of local TV in Wichita, so it all fit in the story. And Benjy and Wonky will have more adventures.

——jeff baker