Doug the Pug

 Welcome to the Spot Writers. This month’s prompt is to write a story using the word/concept “pugnacious.” This week’s story comes from the pen of Phil Yeats.

In April 2024, Phil published The Body on Karli’s Beach, the third book in his Barrettsport Mysteries, a series of soft-boiled mysteries set in a fictional South Shore, Nova Scotia town. For information about these books, The Road to Environmental Armageddon, his trilogy about the hazards of ignoring human-induced climate change, and his latest, a novella titled Starting Over Again: A Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy visit his website: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/.

 

 Doug the Pug

by Phil Yeats

 Douglas MacAdoo had been labelled ‘Doug the Pug’ by one of his junior high classmates, but no one would address him that way because he was the schoolyard bully. The moniker made sense because pugilistic and pugnacious were words that described his behaviour. I thought it was unfair to pugs. Those funny little dogs with wrinkly flat faces and bulldog shapes were, according to Wikipedia, gentle and friendly creatures. I might have called him ‘Doug the Slug’ if I called him anything, but I tried to avoid him at all costs.

I was always the smallest kid in my class, the proverbial 98-pound weakling, and to make matters worse, I stuttered at the first sign of a stressful situation. The perfect target for the class bully. I withdrew into a shell, focusing on my schoolwork, which I was good at, and avoiding sports or any involvement in the teenage culture of our school.

When I went to college, I thought I could put all that behind me, but it was too ingrained. I continued to be an outsider, afflicted with terminal stuttering, but at the top of my class academically. My goal was medical school, and I had the marks, but I failed miserably at the interviews that were required to gain entry. I blamed Doug the Slug, but it was probably unfair—I was a social misfit before I encountered him.

It all worked out in the end. I got a good job in a small pharmaceutical lab working with doctors and lab personnel who put up with my occasional fits of stuttering. This story came full circle on one hot summer day when the receptionist, a young woman who seemed comfortable with my foibles, phoned.

“Hey Ty, how’s it going?” Hannah said. “I have a bicycle courier here with a package you ordered. He won’t let me sign for it.”

I hurried to the lobby, happy for the opportunity to spend a few minutes talking to Hannah. I immediately recognized the courier. It was Douglas McAdoo, someone I hadn’t seen for ten years. Dirty and sweaty from riding a bike in the chaos of the urban streets on a hot day, he looked thoroughly downtrodden and much more than ten years older than when I’d last seen him.

I signed for my package, and he trudged away with stooped shoulders.

“What’s with that guy?” Hannah asked. “I sign for everyone’s packages. Why should that one be different?”

“I knew that guy in high school. Star athlete, king of the student mountain, but not much of a student. He probably expected me to be a downtrodden techie.”

“And it wasn’t to be. He was facing our up-and-coming star, soon to be manager of our laboratories.”

“Hardly. Managing one scientist’s research project is enough for me.”

She beamed, and I panicked.

“I-I’d b-better get back to the l-lab.” I held up my package. “We’ve been w-waiting for this to arrive.”

Her phone rang, and I scurried away.

 

The Spot Writers:

Val Muller: http://www.valmuller.com/blog/
Catherine A. MacKenzie: https://writingwicket.wordpress.com
Phil Yeats: https://alankemisterauthor.wordpress.com/
Chiara De Giorgi: https://chiaradegiorgi.blogspot.com/