As we got ready to go to the neighborhood’s annual Halloween Parade on Sunday there was a hurry, a flurry, a lot of motion and this and that as we dug through the costume box (a box large enough for the body of an adult human if need be) worked on makeup, found bits and pieces to customize ourselves with.
We were getting down to the wire with only 45 minutes before we needed to walk out the door and no one in costume yet when Mr. Kaos asked me to fit his fangs for him.
Having fit my fangs earlier in the week to ensure a smooth departure on parade day I was familiar with the process of pre-fitting, mixing and applying adhesives and then laying down for 10 minutes as the smell from the cement gets you high as a kite, so I thought it was natural that Mr. Kaos would ask for my assistance in his time of dental need. I instructed him to get my small mirror so he would be able to have a look and then I had him lay back so I could take advantage of… wait no… no.. that’s another story… so I could fit his fangs. I asked him to open wide and I gently pushed back his soft pillowy lips to locate his canine teeth…
his canine teeth.
I SAID HIS CANINE TEETH….
I was flummoxed, confused, in awe of what I found. You would think after 6 years of marriage (happy anniversary babe) I would have known that my husband had no natural fangs. Those sweet little pointed teeth that show up in so many others were just… well they were gone and all at once my mind traveled back to a story he had once told me, a dream from his youth he had confided in me:
There had been a problem at school you see, he didn’t remember doing it, he can’t recall how it happened, all he remembers is the blood, scarlet on his shirt, and the warm coppery taste, how it filled his mouth and satisfied a hunger he never knew he had.
Normal enough right?
It would have slipped by without another thought as the morbid mental wanderings of a 10 year old boy except that’s when they took him. He was taken away at the tender age of 10, put under sedation and wheeled into surgery… and they took them, his fangs, his canines, his teeth. There was a clever story they told the neighbors, that he had a few extra teeth and no room for them, they would grow in funny, they told them, if something wasn’t done about it.
And he believed it at the time. He thought they were only doing what was best. His orthodontist told him it would be much easier to make him look… normal.
And he thought they were only talking about his teeth but we suspect there was something more to this. We feel that we’ve stumbled upon a bigger piece of the puzzle and that if left as he were Mr. Kaos would never have been Mr. Kaos at all, instead he would have been Count Moreland…