Good Uncle

By Dirt Coyote

Bo sat on his knees holding the tomato vine like it had just died in his paws. It was a withered thing, none of the flowers able to bear fruit. Brown and black spots patched all along it's stem. No, Bo was not a good gardener.
With a sigh, the wolf let the plant drop into his little backyard garden. Like the peas, strawberries, melons, and peppers before, the tomatoes lay just as dead. Next time he'd try carrots and maybe finish reading the articles he meant to before harming another innocent vegetable.
BUZZ.
Bo's brow furrowed and he looked down. He could feel his phone vibrating in his pants pocket. Tossing his gloves into the dirt, he pulled out his phone and examined the called-id. A smile spread his long lupine muzzle.
"Elijah! Let me guess. You’ve called to invite me over to show me that new grill you bought a couple months ago, and you’re sorry for taking so long."
"Oh, right. Um, no, it's not that. It’s—"
"Kidding," Bo interrupted. "You never get my humor. I assume he's on his way."
Elijah sighed into the receiver. "Yeah, hopped on his bike a few minutes ago. He'll probably be there in five or ten."
"Yeesh, must've been a pretty bad fight if he's peddling that fast," Bo with mild amusement.
He heard his brother snort through the phone, ever the brat of the siblings. "It wasn't, but you'll hear all about it. Probably make me out to be some sort of a monster—"
"I'm sure I will hear about it. Let me get ready. Wish you two planned these things out so I could at least shower."
They shared Love You's and Bo rose from the ground. His knees ached a little, a sign of his age sneaking up in his late thirties. He'd need to get tips from his neighbor's soon. Those retired cacomistles made it look so easy to go up and down tending their garden. Alright, he shouldn't be so jealous of the elderly couple.
Patting his pants, he headed through the sliding glass door of his cozy two bedroom cottage. Only pictures of friends and family adorned the walls, just the way he liked his sanctuary: no partner, not that he needed one, and no cubs, thank God. It was quiet and that's all the wolf ever wanted for a home.
Bo slipped into his bedroom, throwing off his dirty jeans and shit onto the carpet. He patted himself down with a towel, grabbing at a tropical powder to sprinkle into his fur. It stayed in his paw a second, the label of a palm tree and pineapple staring back at him. His mind wandered over to a bottle of powder inside of his closet, but he shuttered the thought.
No, one wolf needed to be the adult tonight.
He came out of the bedroom in an orange polo and white shorts. Looking over the mirror, it didn't blend well with his brown and grey fur. Devlin, the closest thing he had to a mate, would chide him about his choice. Probably add a comment about having to dress him like a cub. No, Bo was not a good fashionista.
Still, he wasn't going out and only his nephew would have to bare his attire. He snatched some dishes on his coffee table and washed them in his sink. He hummed to a song playing on his home device, though he was certainly out of tune. Through the music though, he heard the familiar sound of a bicycle speeding through the street.
He looked up through his bay window and spotted Andy cycling up his driveway. The lithe teenager screeched to a halt just under the rainbow flag hanging over his porch. He watched the young wolf fight to get off the seat, throwing the bike onto the grass to race up the steps. His nephew looked and acted so much like his brother at that age so much so that he almost thought it was Elijah for a second..
"Uncle Bo!" he heard from his foyer.
There were a couple steps made towards the kitchen, but Bo cut him off. "English first. Then we'll work on algebra."
With his sensitive ears, he could make Andy standing agawk, thinking things over before throwing his paws up and walking into the living room. Very much a brat like his father, but that just made him endearing. He listened to his nephew throwing his backpack onto the ground, pulling texts and notebooks outs. Bo finished his dishes and walked out into the living room.
Andy sat planted on the floor in front of the coffee table. One paw scribbled away with a pencil tightly clutched in it. The other was stuffed in his lap, stroking the tip of his tail. It’d curled around his waist tightly, a testament to pouting cubs everywhere. He looked younger than he was, partially his sulking, partially his plaid overshirt drooping off his arms and puddled on the floor behind him.
Bo rested on the doorway, a pleasant sigh fluttering out his chest through his nostrils. Andy's whiskers twitched, tail unravelling until it was behind him. He couldn't stop it from patting against the floor, though he looked to try. Even his ears, splayed as they were, swiveled towards his uncle as he listened to his every move.
"So, want a beer?"
Andy slapped his pencil to the table, his head twisting towards his uncle. A smile curved up his lips, though he said, "You're not very funny." No, maybe not a comedian, but seeing him grin was worth it. "Juice, please," Andy said before focusing on his work.
"Tch, all of your friends would've killed for the beer," Bo said before returning to the kitchen.
Hoppy fizz bubbled up to Bo's nose, the cap clanking noisily on the counter. He took a swig of his amber ale, half reading directions for the powdered fruit juice in his paw. A poppy song was playing on the speakers, and he couldn't keep himself from shaking his rump to the rhythm. As he made the juice, he danced, moving loose from pantry to sink to counter to fridge to cabinet like fluid. Something about having his nephew over always made him feel playful.
A cardboard box sat at the top of the highest shelf. Putting down the jug of red drink, he reached on the tips of his toes for the box. That didn't work and he was forced to climb onto his counters to retrieve the box. It was a chore, one he hated, but one that was important if he didn't want any other nosey family members butting into his privacy. That was how all of this started anyways.
Uninterested in rehashing those memories, he quickly clawed off the tape around the box and pulled open the flaps. He rummaged inside, claws clinking at plastic and metal until he felt the large conical tip. With a triumphant Aha!, Bo pulled out the sippy cup from the box. Not any sippy cup, but one with a lime lid, red rubbed grips, and about three or four times larger than any made for a cub.
Certainly, it was not fit for a little kid, but it would make a fine chalice for the big kid he had. With some swag in his hips, he brought his beer and Andy's drink out into the living room. His nephew looked up, his eyes flashed bright and arms reached out greedily. Bo sat an empty coaster on the coffee table, tapping at it first, tightening the cup's lid one final time, then held it out for him to take.
With a ferocious vigor, Andy snatched it with fingers wrapped into both side handles. Bo smirked, watching his nephew tilt it backwards as he sucked at the spout. Putting the lip of his beer into his muzzle, he matched him and took a sip as well. He imagined the juice must've felt similarly calming to him as his beer.
Andy took a final gulp before pulling his drink from his muzzle, taking a loud gasp of air. Bo scoffed, watching red dribble down his chin. Before it could drip onto his fresh carpet floor, he snatched a napkin off the table and reached across to dab at his face. The teen fought half-heartedly, groaning as he was cleaned.
"Gosh, I don't remember you being this messy as a cub," Bo chided before tossing the napkin aside.
Andy scoffed back, flattening his ears. "I am a cub."
Bo just shook his head, tapping on the notebook in front of him. "Not until you finish your homework, you're not."
He grumbled at that, but returned to his work. English was easy, a simple one page essay analyzing a poem. Bo guided him through it, highlighting the important bits and asking him questions about the metaphors. His eyes lit up as he ultimately understood the underlying allegory and he scribbled away at the paper until it was completely filled.
Algebra was a whole other story.
"This is some of that new math I've been hearing about," Bo grimaced.
There was never any intentions to have cubs of his own, so it felt funny saying the same words his father once said to him. He stared at the numbers and shapes, trying to piece together what they all meant. Several times he led Andy into an answer, only to see the pieces didn't fit. After half an hour's frustration, they agreed to finish the rest in the morning. No, Bo was not a good tutor.
“So, you want to tell me what the fight was about?” Bo asked, unable to stare at the numbers any longer.
Andy tossed his pencil down with a little harrumph, “Dad’s a jerk. He wants me to teach me how to drive, but I’m not ready.”
“Did you tell him you weren’t ready?” Bo asked, taking a sip of his beer.
“He won’t listen. He’s always yelling nonstop in the car. It’s not fair!”
Bo sighed, “Yeah, that sounds like him,” He paused, thinking before he might badmouth his brother. “I know he just wants what’s best for you.” Andy wasn’t very convinced, crossing his arms with his ears splayed. Bo turned his attention to the pages, flipping through until he couldn’t find anything helpful. “We’ll think of something.”
Closing the book, Andy nodded up and down, his expression softening. He was hesitant, putting away his notebooks and school supplies slowly before asking softly, "Now?"
Bo finished his beer, the clock on the wall read five. As much as he did want all of the homework done, he couldn't stand the thought of staring into the textbook any longer. Though he smiled, Andy's eyes were weary. With a sigh, he nodded up and down.
Like a bullet from a gun, he leapt off the ground. Andy almost banged into a wall as he raced towards the free bedroom. "No running," Bo called as he rose to his feet. He could hear him bouncing onto the bed, clothes flinging off in every direction.
Bo didn't follow him in, turning to his own bedroom towards his closet. Tucked in a corner was a cardboard box, the same one his nephew found a year back. If he was smarter, he would have hid it better and probably should start thinking of a new spot for it. Too late for that now.
He hoisted it up with a grunt, his knees still groaning from gardening. There was a time that this box felt lighter, even when it was packed to the brim. It was stuffed of old adventures from his twenties with men his own age and their same interests. Now it was mostly just memorabilia, until a nosey cub rummaged through his stuff.
The box dropped softly onto the carpet just near the bed his nephew lay on. Andy was on his back, bare, but unminding. Bo opened it up, shuffling through things until he found what he was looking for inside of a plastic bag.
"Can you hold this for me?" A joke he always said every time.
Thump thump thump went the little wolf's tail as he anticipated what was coming next. Bo reached inside the bag and pulled out a baby blue pacifier. The plastic bulb gleamed in the light of the sun shining through the blinds. He shifted it around, making sure it was still clean from the last time they used it. Then he leaned over his nephew and held it just above his muzzle.
In a flash, the pacifier was snatched out of his fingers between fangs. Andy smiled triumphantly for a second before wrapping his lips around it, suckling gently. A thanks was murmured between his teeth, but cocked his head confused. Bo saw the expression and remembered.
"Oh right, I forget you like to do this with company," Bo chuckled and shuffled around the box a second. "Ah, how could I have forgotten your faithful companion?" He asked teasingly, pulling out a stuffed toy quadruped fox and handing him over.
It was swiped from his paw, clenched tightly to Andy's chest. He embraced it like an old friend. The ugly thing was ancient, cloth frayed and seems stretched, but he loved it all the same. Bo sighed at the sight lovingly.
Andy was quickly to snap him out of it, a cough through his pacifier to speed him along. Impatient cub. Bo reached into the box and gave a couple teasing grabs. Crinkle crinkle went the padding inside, getting another anxious squirm from his nephew before he revealed it to him.
In his paw was an oversized diaper. A checkered blue and yellow strip ran over the waist while starships, stars, moons, and planets stickered the front. He waved it in front of Andy's muzzle, turning it side to side, but he didn't acknowledge it. Well, he tried not to, but his shit eating grin split his muzzle in half behind the pacifier.
"Up," Bo said, getting into position.
His nephew's rear went up, the diaper sliding in underneath. Large plumes of baby powder rose in columns as Bo dumped gracious amounts of baby powder. The tapes closed, a pat to make sure it was snug, and Andy was good to go. Bo beamed with added smugness, feeling pretty proud of his handiwork.
"Still got it," he laughed, unloading his finger guns into the air.
Andy half paid attention, eyes glazed and half open. Bo recognized the haze, something he’d done himself as he sank into his own headspace. Leaning over, he flipped through several folded outfits inside the box. Most were made for himself, a size too big for Andy, but the onesies would fit him well enough. He slipped a grey and black striped one over him, receiving only mild protests when he took the fox out of his paws.
“Alright, alright. You can have it back,” Bo groaned, fastening the last button of the onesies bottom, before returning the toy back to the whimpering boy.
He hugged it to his chest again, muttering something about never letting him go. It was cute, Bo couldn’t deny that, but a little dramatic. With a devilish smile, he reached down and ruffled Andy’s headfur between his fingers. The cub tried to bob his head away, but was unable to escape his uncle’s paw. All he could do was splay his ears and give his best deathglare.
“Such a primadonna. C’mon, snacktime.” He didn’t move, and Bo knew what that meant. “You’re not gonna make me do this, are you?” The only answer he received was his wagging tail. Bo’s knees whined preemptively, but he didn’t want to feel as old as he was. Heck, it wasn’t that long ago that he was in diapers.
With a grunt, he hoisted the wolf off of the bed and pulled him into his chest. Andy wrapped his arms and legs around his uncle, holding him tight. Bo scooped his paw underneath him and slowly started towards the living room. He narrowly missed the doorframe, ducking in time not to bonk his nephew’s head. All the while, Andy giggled his little brains out.
Bo nosed his shoulder, taking in his scent as he walked him down the hall. It reminded him of amusement parks and museums; times he’d offered to carry him around when his feet got too tired. As much as he told himself that he was doing this for Andy, he couldn’t deny some part was for him. He lowered him onto the floor, his back and arms not feeling nearly as bad as he feared.
“Carrot sticks or crackers?” Bo asked as he pushed the coffee table aside. Andy stretched his legs out, his back against the couch’s seat. He thumbed his chin, thinking while Bo flipped the TV to the junior channel. The pacifier popped as he pulled it between his lips. “Crackers, please,” he said before stuffing it back inside.
There’d always been boxes of snacks inside of the house, even before the teen begged to use his old cub stuff. Some habits were just impossible to cut. He grabbed the crackers out of the pantry for his nephew, the carrots from the kitchen for himself. With a bowl in each paw, he came back into the living room and sat one in front of Andy. The other stayed with him on the armrest of the couch.
And then they just existed for a bit.
A family of cartoon coyotes played on the screen. The littlest, a girl in a yellow dress with a sunflower in his hat, lost her doll and was pouting. Each of the family members took turns trying to cheer her up, but nothing seemed to work. Her father danced a silly dance, her mother sang a soothing song, her older brother told a funny joke, and her older sister performed a magic trick. It wasn’t until the coyote realized that the doll she pulled out of her hat was her little sister’s that she lit up in relief.
All the while, Bo’s fingers tangled in Andy’s headfur. Half the carrot sticks disappeared without him even noticing. The loud crunches of crackers drowned under the show’s melodic outro. Bo literally strained to pull himself from the show. Maybe it was genetic, this wave of comfort that washed over when reverting to a cub, because his nephew was long gone. One paw was stuffing his face absentmindedly, his other lay limp on the carpet with the pacifier clutched loosely. Sitting in his lap was the stuffed fox.
Bo thought to take a picture with his phone, but decided against it. Though he thought it would look cute, he couldn’t actually print and hang the picture anywhere. If his brother saw it, there’d be a lot of questions. Andy could tell him on his own time, but personally, he had no intentions of talking to his brother about his private life. He probably wouldn’t understand, so he didn’t mind this being between them.
“I’m gonna get dinner ready,” Bo paused and added, “No fussing, but there’s going to be broccoli.”
Andy’s face twisted, but otherwise remained fixed to the TV. Chicken was on Bo’s mind, the carrot sticks having done little for his appetite. A grumble in his tummy hastened his movements. He was quick cutting the veggies, cubing the chicken, whisking the honey garlic glaze, and throwing it all together in pots and pans. Soon the kitchen was a flurry of savory aromas, and Bo’s chest swelled with pride.
“Uncle Bo!” Andy cried out.
Bo was fast, out in the living room in a flash when he noticed the TV frozen, the characters stuck behind a rotating buffer wheel. “Aw, shit,” he said, clasping a paw over his lips. Andy’s arms crossed and ears folded back. “Aw, poop. Is that better?” He waved his paw at the teen, pointing towards the stuffed fox. “Just play with your toy. I’ll fix this, I promise.”
And he tried. At first, he struggled to even get to the streaming box’s wifi settings. Even when he found it, it wasn’t much help telling him what was wrong. Several times, he turned the device on and off, switching between different apps to see if something would work, and going back to the settings for some hidden fix-all. It wasn’t until he tried searching online for answers did he realize his internet was down.
“No, no, no,” he whispered, fiddling with the router as if he had the slightest clue where to start. No, Bo was not a good handyman.
“Uncle,” Andy called once more.
A couple sniffs later, and he was running back into the kitchen. He pulled the chicken off of the flame, though it was clearly too late. All of the honey glaze was now fused with the pan. His poultry was dark, not quite charcoal, but close enough to count. The cubes felt like rubber as he squeezed them with his tongs. The broccoli was waterlogged, practically mush by the time he got to it. No, Bo was definitely not a good cook.
He walked out of the kitchen, paw scratching the back of his head. Andy was in the middle of the living room, legs crossed and paws in his lap. All of the coyotes were still frozen mid dance. The smell of burnt chicken wafted from the kitchen, dangerous to set off the fire alarm. A whimper let loose from the pup’s muzzle, not quite sure what to say about anything. No, Bo didn’t feel like a really good uncle at this point.
He pointed a finger to his nephew and said, “Stay put, kiddo.” before racing back into the guest room.
If Bo was not going to be good at anything else, he would certainly make an effort to be a good uncle. He pulled out his phone, flipping through the apps until he found the one for food deliveries. With one paw, he placed an order from Peppered Patty’s for him and his nephew. His other dug through the box he’d left on the ground, pulling out things until he found the yellow box he was looking for.
“Bingo!”
Bo walked back into the living room holding the box inside of his paw. Andy had resigned himself to literally twiddling his thumbs, being quite the good pup but taking his order to stay put a little too seriously. He sat the box in front of him, giving him a little peck on his forehead on the way down. The cub grumbled, thinking all of that gushy stuff was for girls. If he was gonna be under his roof, he’d have to accept some of the gushy stuff, so Bo gave him another peck.
“Alrighty, so the TV’s out, but I’ve got something just as fun,” he said, getting down on one knee. It burned under his weight, but he forced himself to ignore it. “It’s my old lego set,” he said, opening it up and pulling out a couple for him to see. His nephew looked wide-eyed at the little pieces, nursing his pacifier in long slow suckles. Bo clipped two together and placed it in his paws. That got a giggle from him.
Andy reached into the box, shuffling around pieces and pulling out a little construction wolf with a hardhat. He danced the figure around a second, pulling out a fox waitress and acting out a scene Bo could barely follow. He didn’t have to though, just enjoying his presence. The little wolf shifted positions, getting onto his belly so that he could play better. After about half an hour, there came a knocking at the door.
“Thank you, sir,” an otter said, accepting the five from Bo.
“And you definitely got the right toy?” Bo said, not letting the driver leave just yet.
“Yes sir,” the otter said, taking small steps backward towards his car. “I specifically asked for the boy’s toy.”
Bo could see the delivery driver thinking weirdo loud enough for him to hear, so he made a point to explain with a scoff, “Okay, it’s for my nephew.”
Another step backwards and some patronizing nods. “Uh huh.”
Bo stuffed his nose into the bag, trying to make sure the order was right. He couldn’t see the toy, probably hidden underneath the food, and the driver wasn’t going to wait for him. Bo just shrugged his shoulders and waved before turning inside.The smell of french fries lifted the boy’s muzzle until he was up on his knees.
“Chicken nuggies?” Andy asked, pacifier still between his teeth.
Bo mimicked him, his teeth clenched as he confirmed, “Chicken Nuggies.”
The kids meal came in its own cardboard box adorned with action heroes from an epic movie universe. Featured prominently was Doug Riot, a border collie holding a laser rifle and Andy’s personal favorite. He was quick to rip open the top of the box, rummaging around until he found the tiny Doug Riot at the bottom. Bo swiped it quickly, having played this song and dance too many times.
“Nuh uh. Finish your food first, then you can play with your toys.”
Andy’s lips scrunched up, and he took a very mean bite of a french fry. His eyes never left the toy as he ate on the floor. Bo wasn’t just holding Doug Riot prisoner to keep him away from his nephew. It felt like a natural timeout for him to talk with Andy seriously and he didn’t want any distractions.
“So, I’ve been thinking about solutions to your driving problems,” Bo unwrapped his burger.
Andy was slow to leave his headspace, almost blinking out of it. As he did, his head went to the side, attention turning to the food like he couldn’t understand big boy conversations. Bo didn’t let him, turning his head back. Playing cub was fun, he certainly understood that more than anyone, but he also had to act his age when situations called for it.
“He’s gonna want you to drive. I can’t see him letting up on that,” Bo said with some regret in his words
Andy’s lower lip quivered, and it broke his heart to see it. A tea kettle whistled in the whimpering pup’s throat, but Bo settled it with a paw grazing his cheek. “I’ll talk with your dad, and I can be the one that takes you out driving. Probably be better doing it in my car than his big ol’ truck.”
Andy grumbled, his eyes shifting as he weighed his options. Bo smiled, leaning in. “Tell you a secret? The first thing I did when I got my driver’s license,” he paused for effect, waiting until his nephew was fully captured. “I drove to the next town over and bought my first pack of diapers. Kept them hidden in my trunk all through my senior year.”
A sly smile spread over Andy’s muzzle, and Bo nodded up and down. “Okay, I think I can do that if you don’t yell at me.”
“Just promise you won’t kill me. I got a feeling your dad might want to save that for himself if he ever finds out I’m giving you diaper hiding tips.”
Dinner finished with Doug Riot being heroically rescued by a brave little wolf. He didn’t quite fit in with the lego characters, but Andy didn’t seem to mind. Bo watched him play, flipping through his phone for router tips. After thirty minutes of poking around, he managed to get the wifi working again. He tested it out by flipping through the store on his TV.
“What do you think?” Bo asked as he browsed the catalogue of action films. “You think it’ll play Doug Riot’s Wildstar?”
Andy’s tail went crazy behind him as Doug Riot stood in a poncho, cowboy hat, and two laser revolvers. His head went up and down and up and down and up and down and up and down until Bo highlighted the rent button and selected it. The border collie came on the screen, blasting his guns into the air and blowing the smoke out the barrels. Bo sucked in the neck of his beer bottle, enjoying the dog in his own ways.
The end credits rolled up the screen, the final explosions having been exploded. Soft snores gently rose from beneath Bo. He looked down, spotting Andy slumped against the couch; his head slouched towards his lap, the fox dropped on the ground next to him. With a yawn, he pulled himself up and leaned over his nephew.
“Alright, cub. Time to sleep,” Bo said, getting sleepy protests in response.
He swept up Andy into his arms, the little wolf wrapping around him still insisting it wasn’t bedtime. His head rested on his uncle’s shoulder, nuzzling into him. The fox dangled by his tail, bouncing about haphazardly back and forth. It just barely made it all the way, falling on the bed’s edge right as Bo sat him onto the mattress.
It took a little bit of maneuvering, but he managed to get him underneath the sheets. A quick peck on his forehead, the fox tucked cautiously under Andy’s arm for safekeeping, lights off, and Bo was out on the other side of the door. He waited, counting down from ten. Just before he hit one, the loneliest little howl filled the house.
Bo smirked, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before opening the door again. “Sorry, sorry. Silly me,” he apologized, walking to the box.
It took him less than a second to find what he was looking for. Bo crouched, hopefully the last time he’d have to for the week, and shimmied the nightlight into the outlet. A dragon wizard with his staff raised lit the room in a soft blue hue. Before he could leave, a soft murmur from his nephew stalled him.
“Mmm, thanks Uncle Bo,” Andy sighed, cuddled into his fox, and finished, “You’re the best.”
Bo smiled and blew a kiss before closing the door. His tail wagged faster than Andy’s had all night. A warm thought followed him as he drifted off to sleep. No, he was not a good uncle. Bo was the best freakin' uncle that ever lived.