Dirty Dangler

  Johnson Lo-Johnson “Lil’ Johnny” Jonbert beamed, prouder than he’d ever been in his entire life, as he stared at the bounty before him. Dirt. An entire truckbed of it. And every drop of it belonged to him. 

  “Where do you want us to dump it?” the driver asked. 

  Lil’ Johnny frowned. “Dump it” sounded like an uncivilized way to treat such a treasure. After taking a moment to sniff the air, he turned his head and leveled a squinty-eyed stare at the driver. 

  “You can UNLOAD it, carefully, here in the driveway,” Lil’ Johnny said. 

  The driver rolled his eyes, but he and his co-worker did as they were told. It took only a moment for the smile to return to Lil’ Johnny’s face. The Jonbert family were longtime losers, trapped in the unforgiving clutches of poverty, mainly because of their own poor choices. Anytime one of them had a glimmer of hope at making more of themselves, they’d go and do something dumb like getting in a fight their boss, get caught stealing a shipment of VCR’s, getting in a fight with the waiter at the diner, getting in a fight with the high school principal, getting addicted to meth, or getting in a fight with their parole officer. But there was a single memory that had always given Lil’ Johnny the belief that a better life was possible. When he was a tiny boy, back when they called him Tiny Johnny, his dad bought a load of dirt and had it delivered to the house. When Tiny Johnny asked what his dad was going to do with the dirt, the old man told him he might use it to fill in the holes in the foundation or to level the backyard so they could expand the house. A pile of dirt was the promise of progress. Later that night, Johnny’s dad got shot dead in the middle of the street when the neighbors caught him stealing the windshield wipers off their van. But that joyful promise of a pile of dirt always stuck with Lil’ Johnny. 

  As the workers neared the completion of their unloading, Lil’ Johnny heard the grating squeak of the screen door. Annoyance marched up and down his spine at what he knew came next. 

  “You wasted all your money on a pile of dirt?” 

  Everyone at the bar had warned Lil’ Johnny that having his ex-wife as a roommate wasn’t going to work out. So far, they were right. As nice as it was to have someone to split the bills, Josephina was proving to be a real thorn in his side. She took every chance she got to cut him down, and as he turned to glare at her, he saw that familiar self-satisfied grin on her face. 

  “I’m gonna do great things with this dirt, Jo. Just you wait and see.” 

  She threw her head back and laughed, sending the bitter noise skyward. 

  “You ain’t got plans for that dirt, dummy. I’m gonna go on that website and tell the Dirty Dangler you got a pile of dirt just sittin’. He’ll show in the middle of the night and gobble it all up!”    

  A blinding rage gripped Lil’ Johnny and he rushed Josephina. She stood her ground, knowing he’d never hurt her, and that just made him angrier. Shaking, he leaned close and yelled in her face. 

  “Don’t you dare notify the Dirty Dangler!” 

  One of the reasons their marriage had collapsed just eight months shy of their first anniversary was because she made Lil’ Johnny angry a lot, and when he was angry, he yelled in her face, something she hated. So it came as no surprise to him when she stomped back into the house, leaving him alone in the yard to fret over his pile of dirt.

  It was a little past 1 am when the Dirty Dangler came creeping up the driveway. They wore a tattered black sweatsuit and a loose-fitting balaclava that kept their face hidden. Like a moth to flame, the Dirty Dangler descended upon the pile of dirt. Their fingers sank into the dirt, and they took a moment to revel in the feeling before they leaned down and began an epic chow. Every once in a while, they shoved a handful of dirt in their pocket, because no one could be certain when a pocketful of dirt would be needed. Best not to be caught unawares. 

  Enveloped in the comforting darkness of night, the Dirty Dangler dug deeper. They stopped, confused when their fingers hit something solid. Then something moved beneath them. 

  “What the-” a masculine voice started to say from beneath the Dangler’s disguise. 

  The Dirty Dangler fell backward as a man emerged from within the pile of dirt. It was Lil’ Johnny, and after taking a moment to wipe the dirt from his eyes, he dove on top of the Dirty Dangler, pinning him to the ground. 

  “I gotch’u, you dirt gobblin’ miscreant!”

  If there was one thing the Dirty Dangler couldn’t abide, it was being pinned down. He went berserk, spasming, scratching, rolling, and doing anything else he could to escape. But Lil’ Johnny was mad as a pizza deliveryman without any pizzas to deliver, and he put all of his weight on the man to keep him trapped. 

  “You’re gonna pay for what you been doin’ to people’s dirt,” Lil’ Johnny yelled. 

  He twisted the Dirty Dangler’s arm, taking the fight out of the man. Holding tight to his arm, Lil’ Johnny pulled the Dangler up, then led him out onto the street. 

  “The police won’t believe a word you say,” the Dirty Dangler said. “I’ll tell ‘em you assaulted me!” 

  As he pushed the man down the street and out of the neighborhood, Lil’ Johnny set himself to the grim task ahead. 

  “No police for a villain like you,” he said. 

  They walked in silence after that, all the way to the bridge that spanned the bay. The salty ocean air whipped at them, and the roar of the distant waves crashing against the cliffs sounded like a hungry beast. One that Lil’ Johnny intended to feed. 

  With one final rough shove, Lil’ Johnny released his hold on the Dirty Dangler’s arm. But before he tossed him off the bridge, he had a mystery to solve. He snatched the balaclava off the Dangler’s head, then stumbled back, nearly falling onto his rear. There before him stood a fifty-something-year-old man, face grizzled from life on the street and a diet heavy in dirt eating. The man wore an angry glare, defiant to the end. 

  Tears ran down Lil’ Johnny’s face as he gripped the balaclava.  

  “Da…Daddy?”

  The Dangler’s entire posture changed. He tilted his head.

  “Uh… what’d you call me?”

  The Dirty Dangler leaned closer, squinting his eyes as he studied Lil’ Johnny. With a quivering lip, Lil’ Johnny stepped closer. 

  “It’s me, Daddy. Tiny Johnny.” 

  Realization struck, and the Dirty Dangler’s eyes went wide. Beads of sweat ran from his hairline, and he pulled at his collar and looked anywhere but at Lil’ Johnny. 

  “Oh, uh… dang, man. You uh…. You got me mistaken for-” 

  Lil’ Johnny rushed forward and wrapped his arms around the Dirty Dangler, squeezing for all he was worth. The Dangler didn’t return the hug, instead going completely still. After a moment, he started wriggling out of the hug. 

  “Now hold on, jus’, jus’, hold on I said!” he shouted, tearing away. 

  Once he was free, he took a few steps, putting some distance between them. 

  “I just got one thing to say before you go thinkin’ this is some family reunion.” 

  Lil’ Johnny wiped the tears from his eyes and nodded. He’d waited twenty years to hear another nugget of wisdom from his dad. He was ready.

  The Dirty Dangler turned and ran, leaping up and placing his foot on the bridge railing, then vaulting over the side. He disappeared from view, swallowed by the darkness of the long drop into the bay. Lil’ Johnny rushed over, trying to get a glimpse of his dad, hoping to see him land safely in the waters below. On the wind, he heard a voice rising up.  

  “Long live the Dirty Danglerrrrrrrrr!”  

  There was a distant splash, and then nothing. For a long time, Lil’ Johnny just stared into the darkness. For the briefest of moments, his heart had been so full, and now it was broken all over again. After all those years, it turned out that his dad wasn’t actually dead. He was alive. But now he was almost certainly dead. Nobody survived a fall from this bridge. 

  Then something funny happened. Lil’ Johnny smiled, a thought occurring to him. With the Dirty Dangler dead, nobody was left to eat, steal, and otherwise disturb the neighborhood dirt. And seeing as all the other Jonbert family legacies were terrible, this seemed like one worth stepping into. 

  As he walked back home, Lil’ Johnny wiped his tears away. New purpose, true purpose, filled his body. It was intoxicating, so much so that he almost walked right by old man Walter’s house without noticing the bags of gardening soil piled by the garage. Almost like they were just waiting for the Dirty Dangler. 

  Lil’ Johnny checked to make sure no one was watching, then put on the black balaclava and dashed across the yard. He dropped to his knees and tore at the top bag of soil, then without overthinking it, started eating the stuff. Through mouthfuls of soil, he mumbled something to himself and smiled. 

  “Long live the Dirty Dangler.”