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Adventures In Living With The Mythical |
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A military veteran is adopted by a werewolf and brought into his pack. Insanity ensues. About "Life With A Werewolf" Life with a werewolf is a dramatic blog. As such the characters in this blog are not real but maybe loosely based on real people. The situations represented are not real but maybe loosely based on real things that have happened in my life. There are a multitude of ways to view life, this is simply one of the ways I have chosen to view mine. Updated Every Friday unless I can't or don't want to. If this is your first time reading this...start here: https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1040400-Welcome-To-The-Pack My book, "Dreamers of The Sea" is available now on Amazon: https://a.co/d/0uz7xa3 |
| This was the first time I've ever felt like a holiday was needed and welcomed. Most people have thanksgiving filled with traditional foods like turkey and that cranberry gelatin stuff that comes from a can which everyone for some reason calls "sauce". It's a warm house filled with familiar bodies and scents. Warm hugs, a parade on television no one is really watching or a football game that people are watching. And of course, the traditional drama fest filled with political and social discourse, which leads to shouting, which sometimes leads to front yard fisticuffs. Our thanksgivings at the house have never been like that, thankfully. It's Mostly good food, discussions of what everyone is doing, and lots and lots of teasing. You can tell the health of a family, through it's jokes. Jovial attitudes and teasing means your family is good and healthy. If there's no teasing, no jokes nor any kidding, if you have angry shouts instead of love, then perhaps there's something you need to address. This year, Crash stayed human throughout most of it. Though, no fault of his own, he ended up having to shift to his night uniform and run out the door at about three in the morning. Sometimes horror shows don't take the holidays off, even if you wished them to. He cooked the turkey and the ham. And the pumpkin pies. And well, almost everything, really. Zack did his fair share of cooking as well: stuffing, reheating rolls and making gravy. Kris did his famous mac and cheese. Among all of this was a green bean casserole, a couple of other vegetables as well that currently slips my mind. We even had a bit of Cajun turkey, thanks to Elouise who brought over a fireball of pain cooked down to turkey form. This was started thanks to a bet that Elouise and Crash had going. I wasn't the only one Crash had been talking to at night. Elouise had taken to doing some nightly hunts with him as well, just to talk to him a bit and see what was going on. The subject of cooking had come up during one of these talks, and how he as a werewolf, could take just about anything. Of course, Elouise said, "well, not anything. Bet I could whip up something you couldn't handle." And somewhere between running through trees and running down deer or suspects he said, "My fuzzy butt can handle anything you put in front of me, you over grown handbag." Or something like that. I maybe embellishing a little bit. Their fault for not giving me the full story. So, when it came close to time to eat, Elouise stopped by with a 'real Cajun bird' she said. We wouldn't touch it. The turkey meat was a faint shade of reddish orange from the spices and peppers that it had been cooked with. It was injected with a special Cajun sauce, marinated in a different kind of sauce, and then basted with another kind of sauce as it cooked. I don't know all of the ingredients, but she later admitted that the peppers she used included names like 'Reaper', 'X', and 'Scorpion'. Just the scent of the plate made my nose run. She was kind enough to bring enough for everyone. Crash was the only one brave enough to try it. Zack literally covered his mouth and shook his head with an audible "Mmm MMm," when she offered. Crash called us all wimps and piled two big pieces on his plate. We watched with anticipation as he brought the first bite to his mouth. He smelled it and smiled, "You almost got it hot enough." Then took a bite. His face grew cartoon red. I swear smoke was coming out of his ears. He yelped in a high pitch that almost sounded like a whine and raced towards the kitchen sink. For five minutes he was spitting water on his face, rinsing his lips off and mouth out, and occasionally, rinsing his mouth out with milk. When he finally came back in, he said one word: "Uncle!" Elouise smiled and said, "wimp", then took the plate and started eating it. I wouldn't want to be her O-ring today, is all I'm going to say. Yeouch! This meal had something that we didn't have for a while. Something more was present at that table and ate with us. Something which felt it had been missing in the past several weeks. There was no polite smiles, no tiny talk for the big plates. Just genuine jokes, memories, and hugs all around had finally come to replace ignored bitterness and regret. It was a good meal shared with good friends that had grown closer than friends in some ways. We had a long time ago stopped being mere people who shared rent and bills in order to survive. We had become something more: a type of family. It wasn't the traditional family by any means, but it was family none the less. The people who sat around that table with me had grown to be more like siblings than distant friends. More like relatives than basic house mates. More like a bond that's needed by us all to get us through the toughest times. Though we had been pushed, pulled, hunted, attacked, cursed. We had been struck and insulted. We had been kidnapped. The past year shown us one thing: no matter how strained, how angry we may get, how small and insignificant we may feel at times, we're still more than a basic family. We're still a pack. And that is still more than anyone of us could ever ask for. |
| After a few days, it occurred to me that things had been handled a bit differently from last time. There was the whole squeaky bone war in the last excursion with The Nobility that we did to keep spirits up and break tension. To bring everyone back into the pack, as it were. In this one we all sort of went to our respective corners. Everyone attempted to just self heal and ignore each other. Well, everyone except one. Giving credit where credit is due, Zack did his best. He isn't the type to randomly grab a bunch of cheap pet toys and throw them at everyone, though. No. For his weapon of choice to fight the growing distance and dissonance, he chose the only weapon that made sense to him: 'Super Mario Party'. The rules were simple. Zack originally wanted it to be losers have to drink, but since I don't drink it was decided that we do something else. I suggested five push ups. That got a laugh, then Zack in his infinite wisdom said, "how about winner asks a question, losers have to answer it?" We all stared at each other for a moment in the dark living room. Crash was in his human form. Sean and Kris were out at work at their respective jobs. It was just the three of us at the moment. I shrugged, looking at no one in particular. "Sure. Like a 'truth or dare' thing?" "I guess," Crash said. "No dares though." With that settled, the television was switched on, and soon the game selected. We each had a controller in our hands. I selected Bowser just so Crash couldn't get him. Was it petty? Sure. But I handled it in a completely mature way. "Haha," I taunted, sticking my tongue out at him. "I got him first!" "Yeah, yeah," he grumbled, then gave me the finger. We all laughed as he was forced to pick Yoshi. Zack grabbed Mario, and we were off to the races. Mario Party, is the perfect party and drinking game. For each mini game, losers drink. If you get a star, that person gets to set the rules until the next person who has a star. This can range from everyone must stand up, everyone must salute the winner, to even more risque rules if you're so inclined. We weren't playing that sort of game, though. After the first couple of rounds, I partly wished we had been. The first game was some sort of fishing game. Yeah, Zack one that hands down. "Alright," he said grinning, "What's your most embarrassing moment?" I shrugged. "Accidentally making out with a cheerleader over the school intercom." They both looked at me. "What," I asked. "What was his name," Crash said, grinning. "Her name was Stella," I corrected. "We were both in the principals office for different reasons. He stepped out to talk to a guidance counselor or something. Me and this girl got to talking, and looking at pictures, and one thing lead to another, and well." I shrugged. "That doesn't sound too embarrassing," Crash said. "I asked her to call me baby. But in our heavy breathing, and mouth sounds, the fact that my hand partially covered the microphone, it sounded more like 'Binky'. I went through the rest of high school being called 'Binky'." Okay, so it had an air of bullshit on it. It was a lie, something I'd concocted on the spot. But Zack and Crash just looked at each other, and Crash shrugged. "I backed the family car into my neighbors house when I was six. And no, that's not where the name came from." "How," I asked. "Well," he said, "My parents went inside for a moment for something. The car was still running. I was in the front seat, and slid over to the drivers seat of my daddy's Caddy. It is where I got a love of Cadillacs from. So, I was playing like I was racing and bumped the gear shift into reverse somehow. Parents weren't too happy." Again, it had an air of bullshit, but I since I'd given them that 'American Pie' reject scene, I suppose I started it. Zack giggled a little, looking down slightly in embarrassment. I laughed politely and we played on. Next game was once again dominated by Zack. He asked us about first kisses or something, and it had became a game of one upmanship between me and Crash. We had to come up with the craziest plausible story that we possibly could. My story was something involving faking my own drowning at a public swimming pool so I could get the mouth to mouth from the life guard. Of all the things I'm grateful for, one of them is that Zack had never seen the movie "The Sandlot" because he never called me out. Of course, Crash had something about some woman who had a thing for werewolves so he'd met her in the woods or something. It sounded like something one of those steamy werewolf romance stories would concoct, but again, no one said anything. So, we went for it. Back and forth we'd went. When I'd won I asked about their most disgusting meal. Zack told of eating a gas station burrito that he found was almost fuzzy at the end of it, Crash, well, lets just say he won that one. He probably wasn't even lying either. When Crash had his turn, he asked about craziest kill. Zack turned white, and gave an audible swallow. Looking down at the floorboards that had suddenly became very interesting, he bit his lip for a moment. "I uh..." "No," I said. "You don't have to answer." "I want to hear it," Crash said. "Well," I said. "It doesn't matter now, does it. I'm vetoing." "You can't do that," Crash growled. "How about you have some taste," I said, stepping forward. "I still regret it." We both turned to Zack who sighed and said. "I can sometimes see her eyes. I know, I know. It was kill or be killed up there. They were werewolves, I wasn't. But, I can still see them." I put a heavy hand on Zack's shoulder and kept it there for a moment. "Okay," Crash said. "You're turn." "Pending investigation I must plead the fifth," I said with a glare. "Oh come on," Crash snarled, black hairs starting to sprout on his arms. "You had that crap about the principal's office. You have to do this." "Then," I replied, "I'm not playing." And set the controller down. He stormed off, growling and grumbling again under his breath. It was going so well, too. Now I had to try and talk to two different people about things I never talk about. Did I ever mention I'm horrible at the whole 'loving, touching person' thing? I sat down next to Zack. He was still staring at the floor, controller largely forgotten in his hands. "what would have happened had you not pulled the trigger," I asked. "Well," he said, bit his lip then swallowed. "You were turned around. She'd have gotten you." "Okay. That's a start. What would have happened then?" Silence for a moment. Then softly he said, "We'd all be dead." "What else?" "Crash too. And the Rodriguez clan." "What else?" "They would," he took a breath and exhaled it. "They'd have taken over. No werewolf or human would be safe." "Exactly," I said. Then I patted him on the shoulder. "If you think about it, you quite literally may have saved the world." "Thanks," he said with a soft sad smile, then stood up. "I think I'm going to play games in my room for a bit." I nodded. Guess it was time to talk to Crash. My chest grew tight as I approached his room. The hallway felt small. It wasn't as if Crash was going to physically attack me. We'd had blow ups before. Usually within the hour we'd talk things out and calm down. But since The Nobility thing, we'd had more frequent blow ups. More frequent shouting matches. At times, it was as if the entire pack was flying apart. I stepped inside his room without bothering to knock. Crash was naked behind his bed, out of the slats of his window blinds, staring out into the empty street. "You mind? I have to get ready for night shift," he said. I shrugged. "I don't mind." He turned and snarled at me. "Good, then leave." "But," I said, stepping forward, "you're going to listen." "What," he growled. "You had no right," I said. "And you do?" We stared at each other for a moment. Taking deep breaths. We were like wolves testing each other. Squaring off with snarls and growls. But soon the fight would begin. Throwing caution to the wind, I charged in. "Why the hell do you say you're 'protecting us', if you pull such juvenile bullshit?" "Oh, and ignoring problems makes them so much better, Mr. 'I think I'll drink myself to death'," he snarled, answering back with his own snaps, claws, and teeth. I'd charged in and been bit for it. But I wasn't giving up. "I'm handling it," I said. "I'm handling my own pain and doing the best with what I have. What about you?!" Another charge in to the fight. Baring my own teeth and claws in it. If this was done wrong, we could slash each other to ribbons. If the wrong thing was said, or did, neither of us would recover. "Oh, right. You're doing so well with this, that you would rather spend all night outside talking to a statue than coming to ME!? Right outside my own damn window, too! Why do you and everyone else thinks you can just walk on eggshells around me? That I wouldn't notice?" My charge met with his retaliation. Tooth and claw met tooth and claw. Two metaphorical wolves bloodying each other. Slashing so much of what the other had to death. His fur began to grow with his volume. "You don't get to preach to me about what is right and what isn't. You know I had to convince the sheriff twice now that you didn't need to be committed for your midnight conversations?" "Oh fuck you. Valyur listens. He doesn't walk away grumbling about 'damn humans' at every turn. Which is rich cause before I got kidnapped you always considered yourself one." Somehow I'd gotten lucky. He winced as my statement struck home, clawing to the heart. "It wasn't my fault! I didn't want you to get kidnapped! I never wanted any of it!" Claws out, hands flexing as he grew slowly into his size. "Oh come off it," I said. "Who said it was your fault! It just was. All we can do is the best with what we're dealt. You know my most embarrassing moment is when I was eleven and trying to impress some girl on my street with cartwheels. I slipped and landed in dog shit in front of the whole neighborhood. I told you that. You know the first time I killed was on my first deployment. It was practically an accident. The enemy combatant was fifteen. Fifteen! Who the fuck gives a fifteen year old a weapon and tells them to kill. That kid should have been playing soccer not going home in a pine box!" Taking a deep breath, I said, "Crash we all have shit in our lives that we have to live with. But you must forgive yourself. Living with regret is like watching home movies of your worst mistakes on repeat and hoping the ending comes out different. It never does." He turned back to the window. We stood there in his room for the longest time it felt. An eternity passed between us in a span of moments. Then voice wavered for a moment as he spoke. "I don't see their faces. I heard what you told Zack out there. You're right. It's not like I had much choice in the matter. You were gone. Or there was other people to save. Or lord knows what would happen if we just backed off and let Nobility take it. But still. I can see their shapes sometimes when I sleep. They grab at me, they pull and tear. Everyone I killed trying to get you back or to help someone else. Everyone who will never see their family again. Never play with their children again. They rip pieces out of me in the dark. But I can't see their faces." The only thing I could do was look down. He started pushing through the process. It looked painful as he did so. The bones popping, the crunching of things moving in directions that felt as if they may not be natural. But he bore it with the barest of grimaces as things snapped and scraped together. Then he started walking towards the door. Everything we had built together as friends and packmates laid bare between us. Bloodied, bruised, limping from our barbs and attacks. I took one last charge, no claws out. No teeth. One last attempt to save it. "I tell you what," I said, trying to hide the nerves in my voice. He turned around. "What, Jason." "I'm going to head out to that old cemetery tonight. You know the one, where the zombies kidnapped me for their little party the second time?" He smiled, ears tipping back into it. "Oh yeah, that one." "I'll head over there about midnight. If you like, you can talk to me about, well, anything you like." He chuffed a half laugh. "Okay Dr. Phil." "What, like you can get a therapist." "There aren't many for werewolves, no. We're expected to handle things on our own." "Well," I told him. "I'll be there. Midnight. Beneath the moonlight. You can confess your heart to the gravestones and me. Neither of us will tell." He turned to me with a sad smile, his ears tilted back. "Thank you," Crash said. Then headed out the door. |
| Gnomes. Even when they're helping. They're not. I swear. Gnomes. It's going to be on my freaking tombstone one day: "No more gnomes!" They protect the house, they say. From what? We never know. They protect our lawns form something, they claim. Not from moles, I can tell you that much. Not from dogs crapping on it either. So, what are we being saved from again? Class? From not looking like trailer trash rejects who hit the lottery? After our latest run-in with "The Nobility", we were all done in. Everyone wanted a break. Even Crash was tired of the werewolf shtick. He disappeared for a while off on an adventure with Mitch, then came back, stinking, growly, and not wanting to talk to anyone. His ears were flattened out and his muzzle showed more fang than fur. After that he didn't even show a sign of fur for days, spent most of the time walking around the house grumbling and growling in the evenings, and playing old video games in his room. Zack stayed in his room watching some old anime. I only caught a note of it here and there, but I think it was Full Metal Alchemist or something. I'm not entirely certain, though. Kris and Sean were gone more than home taking rides and spending time with each other and away from us. Not that I blamed them. No one was head over heals for each other, but we were healing. Healing and recovering in our own ways. Sometimes you have to work on yourself and your own issues first before you can assist someone else. It's even on the airline flight cards: put on your own oxygen mask on before helping someone with theirs. In essence, that's what we were all doing. Ensuring we could breathe for the next few weeks before we talked and decompressed with each other. Someone though, had different ideas. I spent a week away from the blog unwinding. That morning I'd decided to just sleep in. Why, I was going to be a real rebel, and sleep until eight in the morning! But as I rolled over, my bed made a creek, then wham. My bed literally falling apart woke me up better than an entire pot of coffee. But it certainly didn't put me in a good mood. "Who the hell," I snarled, bolting out of bed, and taking exactly two steps before twang. My right foot flew out from under me. I hopped a bit on my left, then collapsed and shouted "Damn it Crash! This isn't funny!" He stumbled into my bedroom, his hair a mess, and a yawn caught in his throat. "Why are you..." then he took two large sniffs. "Wait..." he began to sniff around more, starting to look up and down, even nearly resorting to putting his head down like a hunting dog on the trail of game. "Don't try to play this off," I growled. "And why did you use yarn?" It was at that moment Zack decided to come hopping in. Hopping because someone had apparently rigged his door frame to wrap his arms and legs up in brown yarn too. "Did you do this," he asked. "I don't even know how to do that," I said. "Give me a moment and I'll untie..." Crash bellowed as loud as he could, cutting me off. "Jason! Come cut me down!" "You." It didn't take me long to get untied. Though it was more difficult to explain to an increasingly vocal and grumbling werewolf that he was waiting in line as I cut Zack loose. We followed the growls and threats over to the stairwell where we found Crash hanging upside down like the worlds ugliest pinata. "How," I asked. "Gnomes," he snarled. "They're inside?!" Zack jumped back, his eyes darting this way and that as he looked. "I don't see any of them, though. Why aren't we plaster yet?" "That's cause they're house gnomes," Crash said. "Who are apparently unhappy with us at the moment." I cut Crash's arms loose, then gave him my pocket knife to he could reach up and cut the rest of himself down. Then we all backed up as he fell. He did not get up in a good mood. "I'm going to find those freaking yarn balls," He snarled, fur beginning to show on his face. The hunt was on. We heard laughter coming from the kitchen. It was as if the mice had an inside joke they didn't want to tell us. Crash attempted to sneak up on them. I was trying to slink around from the other side. Zack, well he was a bit mad at them. "I'll get you, you bastards," he snarled, racing down the hallway. Crash! No gnomes. Zack though, was in a heap nearly hogtied over by the kitchen table. "How," I scratched my head in confusion as Zack writhed on the ground. "They're quick. Let me go!" Crash was quick with my pocket knife, though he was looking as if he didn't need it. Dark thick nails had grown out from his hands with fur to match. "Uh, dude," I said, "You're night shift uniform is coming out." "Freakin gnomes," Crash said in response. That was most of the morning. We'd hear laughter. Try to sneak in on the room. One of us would end up with a table or something on top of him. Then we'd move to the other room. After the third time being hogtied, I had to call it quits, and laid up on the couch. "I'll shout if they tie me up," I said, limping over there. Thankfully, they left me alone. Zack was tied up three times. Crash tied up twice, suspended from the ceiling twice, and at least one time tripped on his way up stairs checking the basement. Kris and Sean? They came in late the night prior and was in bed for most of the bangs and snarling. So, they missed most of the fun. Leave it to Kris though. Crash was sneaking downstairs to the basement a third time trying to find out where the laughter was coming from, when Kris came down from his room. He glanced at a shelf and said, "where the heck did this thing come from," then came in the room carrying the dang thing by the head. "Which one of you thought this was funny? Jason...." "Hey you caught him," I shouted to him. "Caught who," Kris asked, then turned the gnome around to look at it. It was then the damn thing started screaming like a Furby with a dying battery. Kris almost dropped it. "What the hell," he said, then stepped backwards, almost tripping on the second one. "Gotcha," he shouted, picking it up. I got up and limped over towards Zack, just in time to pull him back. "Don't," I said. "You know what they did," he snarled. "Yes," I said. "And the footage will be hilarious if the security cameras caught it. But for now, don't." He glared at me, then stormed back to his room and slammed the door. "Okay, you little shits," I said, glaring at the gnomes, "why have you been torturing us?" Their eyes went wide when I said that word. "Not torture. Prank. Pranking you," they said in almost unison. "What are they saying," Kris asked. I held up a finger to him, then said to the gnomes. "No. Torture. Why?" "Valyur said your family is on the verge of breaking. Told us to prank you to help." "How long have you been here," I asked. They looked at each other, then back at me. "Since Kheid died." "What," Kris demanded more than asked. "Valyur's trying to help," I said. Valyur was a more traditional lawn gnome. Despite the fact that we could communicate, it wasn't going to happen in the day light so that was a conversation that would have to wait until nightfall. As Kris was holding the gnomes, Crash came up and said, "Good you found them," he snarled. Then grabbed them both and held them up to his face. "Unless you want to see what it feels like to be a werewolf's living chew toy, you will NEVER DO THAT AGAIN!" Both dolls audibly swallowed and said "yes sir!" Then he just dropped them. They scurried off, a look of terror in their eyes. Kris and I both looked at Crash and head-tilted. "Huh?" "House gnomes actually help you," he said. Then walked off without a word and went back to his room. That evening, I sat down with Valyur. He was less than apologetic about it. "This is the thanks I get for trying to look out for you," he snarled. "They nearly killed us," I snarled. "You big baby," he said, then patted my cheek. "You're still alive, meatie. Besides, they gave the werewolf the rougher stuff. And you guys need it." "We don't need house gnomes," I snapped. "Oh no? Who do you think kept your Nobility werewolf friends out of your house while you were gone? Did you think they just left this place alone?" "They were here," I asked. He nodded. "They tried to set a trap. Wanted the house to explode when you came home. One of their tricks. You go against them, they'll blow up yer home." "And the gnomes stopped it," I asked. "Well, you could say that. By the end, the two they sent were begging for mercy." "We don't need pranks," I said and stood. "Tell them to back off." "I heard your werewolf friend has already done that. Besides, you need somethin. I can see it. Your family unit is not holding up well, matey." "We're just fine. And matey? What are you, a damn pirate?" He snarled at me. "I'm the lawn gnome trying to keep the family together. Apparently I'm the only one tryin." Bitter bile rose up in my throat. I bit it back down and turned to go back inside. I got exactly two steps when Valyur called after me. "You never ask'em. Ask'em who he's huntin with now. How many of his hunts are getting noticed. He used to not make those mistakes before." Two more steps. Deep breaths. Clenched fists. Valyur of course, did not take the hint. "Why d'you think the couple keeps goin out all the time? They're lookin to nest elsewhere. They want out. They don't want you round." Another deep breath. Then I turned and gave Valyur as kind of a smile as I could. "Look," I said, "what Kris and Sean does and don't do on their time off is their own damn business. Sure as hell isn't mine. And I don't blame them for wanting to be away from me for a bit. Everyone has had to worry about me for the past lord knows how long. I nearly died Valyur. I just want peace for a bit." "Eye! You want peace. But do you want it together? Why don't you talk to each other? Is it because maybe, just maybe, you're starting to get sick of each other? You're growing apart?" It wasn't anything I wanted to hear. I ignored him and went back inside and slammed the door. I still don't want to think about such things. Crash is a big werewolf who has done his job a long time. It's not like he needs any of our help, is it? Not like he needs us to talk to him about it. Keep my head down, let him work it out. That's what's best. Kris and Sean are still good friends of mine. They just need time on their own. Zack? Well, he's Zack. Mr. Social/antisocial. He doesn't want or need my help. Besides, sticking your nose in your friends business is a good way to get it chopped off. If anyone needs to talk, they know where to find me. For now, I'll keep writing, keep reading, and maybe soon one of these magazines will actually pick up one of my stories. Hey, I've gotten close on a couple of stories to getting a sale. That's something, right? Things don't always have to be joyful to be happy. We may not be smiling at each other or having family sing-alongs in the living room after supper, but we still care for each other. Still help each other. still fight for and defend each other. If need be, we'll still die for each other. No that's not pranks and conversations, but it's something. Pranks and conversations will come later, after things settle down. We all just need time. And I for one want to help all my friends, help them recover and do what's necessary. But time I think is the best thing I can give them. |
| It was so good to be back at camp. I had only been gone a couple of days, but it felt like an eternity. An eternity lost adrift a drug induced haze, and running from the monsters in the dark. As apposed to the monsters that I felt comfortable being around. In some ways, we are all our own monsters and saviors at times. Both the best and worst possible things around. A dichotomy of existence that we each willingly blind ourselves to, perhaps. Or perhaps I was just waxing more poetic than usual due to barely surviving my second encounter with The Nobility. On other occasions when I'd survived the worst that this world could possibly throw at me, it had given me some perspective on life. That was the reason I'd given up drinking after all. Reflecting on life with the clarity that only just surviving a horrible encounter can bring you. So, as everyone sat around laughing, hugging, talking, I found a quiet corner. I sipped from a root beer as I let my mind wander, searching for what profound thing it could glean from everything. Sophia walked over dressed like Laura Croft, only with longer shorts. "So, you're alive," she said. "You managed to get the girl back and keep yourself alive. I was not expecting that." "You managed to get your boyfriend back," I said. "Means to an end," she said, then took a long pull from her beer. "We just needed you." Instead of responding, I took a long pull from my root beer. See? Progress. I'm slowly learning to choose my words carefully. I looked around the room instead. Crash was over with Sean and Kris, talking about the night. Zack was next to Eleanor. Wasn't sure if he was just into her tech, or being shy around someone he liked. Knowing Zack, either could have been possible. Tanika and Roam were in the kitchen. Half cooking a spanish dish of somekind, half talking and laughing. Killian was teasing Evelyn, but she was enjoying it and teasing him right back. No one was paying attention to us in our little corner of the world. Or so I thought. "I commend you for being resourceful enough to stay alive. Perhaps you can keep Crash alive. You have so far." I turned to her. There must have been a fire in my eyes, cause she paused a moment. Then grinned. "Oh, I think I finally hit a nerve. How quaint." Out of respect to Tanika and Roam, I walked outside. I had expected to be alone, to calm down, gather my thoughts below the stars. Sophia though was determined to have her say. "Look," she said, "I don't care if you're his little chew toy or not. But I have to shatter him tonight. So you better step up." It was then that I turned vicious. "I've seen a thousand people like you. No care for who you step on or over to get what you want. A heart of pure ice water. So, you got Evelyn back. I'm glad. A little girl shouldn't be dragged into the middle of a war. But don't stand out here and lie to my face that you give a shit about that man in there. Baby, I may have been born at night, but it wasn't last night." She grabbed my shirt and pulled me towards her. Her eyes growing dark and red. "I care. I am sick and tired of everyone treating me like the ice queen cause I want to win the war. I care. I do what I need to win. And you? What the hell have you done?" Not backing down, I nodded towards the house. "I've taken care of him. Picked him up when he's fallen down. Helped nurse him back to health. He's done the same for me. We've stood in front of the gates of hell together and smiled. Yes, smiled." She growled in my face. I ignored her and continued. "That's something that you'll never know. Cause for you, it's about winning. Not about caring. Loving. Having a bond with someone else. You have to win. And you have to fight. You never care about the casualties you leave behind." "Oh God," she snarled, a muzzle beginning to form on her face, "you sound like him now." "That's cause he knows something you don't." "What," she snarled. "Relationships matter. People matter. They're more than just chew toys." She threw me backwards at that and looked to the sky in disgust. Half transformed, trapped a bit by her clothing. She must have started forcing a change backwards. "I ought to kick your fucking ass." It was then that Elouise stepped in. She had already started going green. I didn't even see her arrive. "Your mangy butt will have to get through me," she snarled. I patted her on the shoulder. "It's okay," I told her. "I don't think she will." "Let the record show, that I do care. I just do the calculation. Every battle has one. The only way we got Evelyn back alive was with the trade. The only way we could get it was if you did it willingly." She pointed towards the house. "The only way he stays alive is if I stay out of his life. I do the math. Go, enjoy your little party." "Where are you going," I asked. "Away until you leave." She turned and gave me a half smile. "Crash was right about you, you know." Then she headed towards the woods. I knew before the hour was up, we'd hear a lone howl out among those trees. "Crazy flea-bitten," Elouise muttered and snarled. "That's twice you saved me," I said to her. That interrupted her muttering. She looked down at the ground. "Well, it's like you said. She wasn't going to hurt you." "Still, you saved me." Elouise shook her head. "I just don't like head games. That crazy mongrel loves to play them. 'I do the calculation'" she said mockingly, "Huh. She plays the head games. And hates being called out." "I hope we don't interact much." "Those types," Elouise said, "They always come back. Can't stand to lose a battle. She'll consider this one a loss, even though there wasn't a fight to lose. We'll see her again." "Great," I grumbled then drained the last of my root beer. The rest of the party itself wound down as parties do. I talked to Evelyn a bit and discovered she's a typical girl of that age. Kids seem to bounce back from such traumas, leaving them as hidden landmines later. But, seeing the way that Roam and Tanika doted on her, the way that Killian, Donte and the rest played and teased her, somehow I thought she'd be okay. That night held no dreams for me, except one. A lone werewolf sitting atop a cliff, looking down over it, giving over a mournful howl. When I approached it, he asked "Would you abandon me too?" His ears were back in sorrow and pain, his tail tucked. It took me far too long to recognize him. "Crash," I asked. Then I awoke. I had no idea what to make of the dream. Crash that morning seemed to want to leave quick, gathering everyone up in a hurry. Elouise cursed at him a bit in creole, using words I won't reprint. Mostly cause I don't understand creole. Crash just glared at her, and went back down stairs. "I'll be," I started to say. "Yeah, you ride with him," she snarled. "I'm going to head on and find my own adventure." She stood in the doorway wearing an old T-shirt and pajama bottoms. I hugged her tight. I don't think she was expecting that, but patted me on the shoulder and gave a half-hearted hug in return. "You okay?" "Just saying thank you," I said after releasing her. "You kept us all alive at one point or another." She laughed. "You know, Kris and Sean literally did the exact same thing last night." "Really," I asked. She nodded. "Zack was a bit standoffish, but I get the feeling he doesn't like being touched much." I shrugged. "That's Zack, for ya." "See you at home," I said. "Barbecue. Sunday. My treat. I'm going to do steaks, dogs and brats." She laughed. "Bring Tums. Gotcha." "I'm not that bad," I said. She patted my shoulder. "Honey, I tried giving one of your burgers to a dog before. He played with it then buried it in the yard." "You burn the burgers three times, you're marked for life." We said our goodbyes, piling into the vehicles and heading home. My last images of that property right now are Roam and Tanika standing in front of their home waving at all of us as we made our way back to the house. Elouise made good on her promise, turning westward instead of south, heading into parts unknown for her own adventure. She'll make it back for the barbecue, I know. Despite her jokes, she knows I do a good steak. When I don't burn it, that is. The ride back was done in silence. Crash just played the radio, and we all sat in our own thoughts. It's amazing how you can be in a crowded car, and still feel all alone. Thankfully traffic wasn't heavy on the road back home. We pulled in sometime early in the afternoon, with Zack, Kris and Sean walking inside not saying so much as a word. I sat in the car with Crash. "Look," I said. "I know," "Save it," he growled. Taking a breath, he said, "I know what you're going to say, so you can just save it." "What was I going to say, then," I demanded. "I know that you don't like Sophia. Part of me don't like her either. Part of me doesn't understand why I keep being pulled back into her games. But part of me just wants to fall in love all over again with her and pretend the world don't matter. I let that part override my thinking. I messed up! You almost died for it." "Oh? I was going to say all that? Funny. Cause I thought I was going to say, I know that Sophia broke your heart again, toyed with your emotions, again, and left you screwed up, again. Take all the time you need. Cause we're here for you. But, I guess I wasn't. Good thing you corrected me." I got out of the car and began to leave the garage. A heavy hand landed on my shoulder, pulling me back around. "Jason," Crash said. "I'm...." The look in his face. The pain behind his eyes. I knew at that moment what was really eating at him. "You saved my life," I told him. "You saved me. You were there when no one else was. Literally everyone in my life had written me off." "Yes," He said. "I was then. I wasn't this time." "Go hunt," I told him. "Call Mitch and go hunt." "Good idea," he sighed. "He called me earlier, but I was out trying to find you. I think I'll return his phone call." Just like last time, in many ways we had beaten The Nobility. But in one important way, we had lost. Our family had been shaken. The pack had once again been struck. Part of me wasn't sure what this was going to do to Crash in the future. Those are questions I'm still scared to ask. Only thing we can do is be there for each other. It doesn't seem like much. But, perhaps, in some small way, it may be enough. |
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