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Adventures In Living With The Mythical |
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 |
Each of us, in our own unique family serves a number of functions. I suppose in someways, I’ve become the “werewolf whisperer”. On more than one occasion, I’ve been called to talk to Crash after he’s had something hard happen. Usually, he’ll bring me a beer or a cup of coffee and pull me out to the back porch. We’d stare at the sun or moon and just talk. We’re kindred spirits, in a way. We’ve both seen our fair share of crap, but that’s not what makes me and Crash unique. To be fair, everyone of our little pack here has had their own portion of it. I just choose to not reveal all of the things that gets loaded onto everyone’s plate. We’re here for a reason, after all. We stick together, through fussing, fighting, teasing, joking, pranking. Through all the tears and all the laughter, we hold each other up with heavy hands and weary arms. In the end, isn’t that what a pack is supposed to do? This dour mood though was a bit worse than most. Crash had somehow gotten time off during his more busy season. A week. He’s got a solid week to do with as he pleases, but he just hadn’t yet chosen to do much of anything other than sit around the house and mope. Normally, Crash would run through the woods to relieve stress. He’d cruise around in his car. He’d play video games with me or the other guys. He’d work on his car in the garage and blast music into the night. He wouldn’t sit around the house, staring off into the distance, still in his human form, with his own chinstrap mustache growing out into scraggly, divorced dad length. I watched him flip that envelope over in his hands hours on end, staring down at it as if it contained the wonderful and terrible answers of life. He had yet to open it. Kris threatened to open it for him once, attempting to snatch it from his hands. That didn’t go over too well with Crash, who shouted at him. And, to Kris’ credit, he didn’t back down but shouted back. Names and insults started being thrown around of all kinds. Me and Zack pulled Crash back, while Sean grabbed Kris and had him back upstairs. Everyone had approached Crash in our own ways to talk to him about that letter. But, Crash ignored, brushed off, or insulted just about everyone. I figured it was time to try a different approach. It was his first day off. He was, of course, out on the back porch staring into the woods. Not shifting, not heading out there. Just gazing at it as if it called out to some part of him that couldn’t call back. There was a coffee cup near him sitting on one of the shelves we have stacked out there with our haphazard “not good enough to go inside” organization technique. The coffee looked barely touched. There was one way to get through to him. I hoped so, anyway. It would either work, or get very messy. I wasn’t quite sure yet which. But sometimes it takes a good swift kick in the ass to get someone moving when they get stuck in life. I set my pistol next to his coffee cup, and sat down in a rocking chair. “It’s loaded if you wanted to.” He gave me a dark look, then stared back into the forest. “You’ve been moping this entire time. Angry, snarling at all of us. I’ve seen this before. Have gone to my fair share of funerals for this. So, I figured instead of dragging it out, why not get it over with? At least I won’t have to go to another Last Roll Call. Those are painful.” “You’re not funny,” Crash growled, and continued staring. “I’m not laughing,” I countered. “See? Your jokes aren’t even funny to you.” He continued to stare out into the woods. “That’s no joke,” I said. “You’re continuing down a path of emotional and spiritual destruction. You want to die? Just get it over with and hurry up. Don’t make us sit here and watch you torture yourself.” “Jason, I know you’re trying to help. You’ve been in the middle of most of my werewolf situations. I don’t tell you to get out of it unless it’s something serious. This is serious. Stay out of it. You don’t want to be involved.” “After everything we’ve been through,” I snap, “that’s damn nice of you.” I stood and left the room, leaving the gun sitting next to his coffee. “I’m sick and tired of you humans messing around in shit that doesn’t involve you! Listen to your fucking betters and stay the fuck out of it!” I stepped towards Crash, and stuck my finger in his face. “You ever talk to me that way again, I’ll skin you for a fucking rug.” “I’m about to bite that fucking finger off.” Before I could tell him I hope he chokes on it, Kris stepped forward, and pulled me back. “You’re an asshole,” he shouted at Crash. “We’re all trying to help you. We’re here. You called us a pack remember? That’s your words, not ours! Don’t you go pulling this lone ranger shit. Tell us what the hell is wrong!” I’ve seen Crash in about a thousand different ways. He’s rescued me from more deadly situations than I can count, good deal more than half of them being my own fault, and now, here he was, looking tiny. Kris is smaller than me by a margin, and Crash shrank back and sat down in a chair. He made a double fist and began biting on the knuckle. “I…I can’t.” I knelt down in front of him. Anyone passing and saw it would have sworn I was proposing. “You’re a good person.” I said. “You’re a good werewolf. A good friend. You’ve been good to all of us. You rescued me.” “And me,” Zack said from behind Kris. “and us, dude,” Sean replied. “You know what you did,” Kris told Crash. “It’s time you let us rescue you.” I placed my hand on his knee and stared up at him. He placed his hand on top of mine, and gritted his teeth. A moment later, there was a knock, before the door just opened. “What am I interrupting,” Elouise said, “did I miss the proposal?” “Who called her,” Kris asked. “I did,” Zack responded. “I called her when those two began shouting.” “Now, what in the world is all this about? And don’t you go tellin me it’s ‘werewolf shit’ cause you know I’ll shove that fuzzy tail where the sun don’t shine if you try that.” Elouise said. Crash sighed, then looked at all of us. “You’re not leaving unless I talk, are you?” “Nope,” Elouise said. “And neither are you.” Crash nodded and silence filled the room. Just when I thought we were going to be at a standoff, he began to speak. “I did things,” Crash said. “Things I’m not proud of. People are dead because of what me.” There was silence for a bit. “One thing about Ghosts, is that they tend to ignore the why. They only care about the what. They’re assholes like that.” He smiled and shook his head. Then he slipped the envelope out of his pocket. It had been opened. Inside was only three sentences. “She finally died. Held the funeral. Thought you’d like to know.” “Who died,” Kris asked. “Sophia Rodriguez,” Crash said. “She was my first love. She came close to getting me killed so many times,” Crash replied, with a half-smile. “There was this one time that we had both shifted and ran through the woods to this farmers house. We snuck onto the property and was about to grab a couple sheep, when…” he stopped and the smile died on his face, melting back into a frown. “We had a lot of adventures together.” “So,” I asked, “what happened?” “That’s just it,” Crash said, standing. “She’s died before.” He stared out into the woods. “I don’t know if it’s real this time.” We all looked at each other for a moment, and didn’t say anything. Elouise started it. She walked over and embraced Crash, then literally picked me up and forced me to embrace them both. Zack hugged, and so did Kris. Sean came over, and joined the hug last. The moment lasted for half-a-second before Sean gave us the loudest cartoon sniff he could and wiped an invisible tear from his eye. “Moments like these are so beautiful! I love you guys.” Sean’s silliness broke the tension. Our laughter was one of relief as we stepped back out of the group hug. Kris smacked Sean in the head, and Crash laughed. It was the first laughter we heard from him in a long time. He wiped a tear from his eyes and smiled. “Thank you,” he said. “Thank you everyone. I love each and every one of you.” Before any of us could respond, looked at Elouise and said, “give me a minute to change, and I’d like to go on a run with you.” We all began to filter out away from the back porch. Crash clapped me on the shoulder, startling me. Even as a human, he’s freaking quiet! “Thank you,” he said again, looking me in the eye. “Thank you.” “I’m always here if you need me.” I told him. Crash nodded. “I will,” he said. “Over the next week I’m going to need everyone.” There was a weight to his words. A heaviness that said what was needed would be far more than usual. I understood that. If I knew what insanity and horror would have come from it, I know I still would have said the same thing. With a smile as warm and comforting as I could make it, I said, “whatever you need from us, you got.” |