by Terra Wolf
Janelle's arrival should have been welcome, but I couldn't help but feel that something horrible was about to happen. I shouldn't have been so naive. I shouldn't have let her get in my head. This was a trick. I knew it was. Why I betrayed my gut instinct, I'd never know. Janelle was dangerous.
“It's late. I should head on back inside,” I tried, making sure not to get too close to her.
“This is where you belong, though. You can't run from it.”
She was right. I couldn't, but how did she know that? Who was this woman?
“I'm just tired. I don't feel well and, well, thanks for coming out again, but I just need to be alone.” I walked back to the house, noticing that her car wasn't sitting in front of the house. “How did you get here?”
She whispered, “I've always been here.”
I turned to face her, but she was still standing next to the fields. My heart lurched into my throat.
“How did you do that?” I asked just as my mother appeared at the front door.
“Who are you talking to, Gabriel?”
I motioned to Janelle, but she was gone.
Had I imagined her there? Was I dreaming?
“No one. Just thinking out loud,” I answered as I scanned the perimeter.
Where had she run off to?
…
I couldn't take another day of this. I had to do something, but doing so would mean exposing those I care so much about to potential pain. I needed to find a way to stop this from spiraling out of control and not involving my mother.
“Good morning, Mom!” I kissed her on the cheek as I headed out the door. She wouldn't suspect anything if I behaved as normal as possible. I needed her to believe that all was fine or as close to fine as she would accept. Letting her believe that she'd done something wrong had weighed on me long enough. It was time for an intervention.
“Are you going out? What about what the doctor said?” My mother asked.
“I feel great! All better. I have some business to attend to this morning. Would you mind keeping an eye on things around here for me? Jesse is here. He can keep things running smoothly, just stick around and make sure things are okay for me.” I feigned a smile, hoping she'd buy my explanation.
“Sure. I'll do some cleaning up around here.”
Normally, I would have defended myself and my ultracasual style, but I didn't want to ruffle any feathers, so I let the remark slide. I had more important matters to attend to at the moment.
As soon as I was far enough out of view, I grabbed my phone and dialed the only number I had for the person I hoped would help me to resolve my issue.
“Hello?” His voice was gruffer than I remembered.
“Dad?” The word felt unfamiliar as it rolled off my tongue. “It's Gabriel.”
He hesitated long enough to make me wish I hadn't gone to the trouble of calling him in the first place. Clearing his throat, he said, “Yes? How are you, Gabe?”
I hadn't realized I'd been holding my breath until I exhaled a gush of air. I explained my situation to him and, just as I'd expected, he wanted no part of it. I fully intended to show up unannounced, but second guessed myself and convinced myself to call first.
After years of growing up without him, anger came easily for me. The way I saw it, he should have considered himself lucky that I ever agreed to formerly meet him in the first place. I made sure he understood why I was so quick to anger. “I'm already on my way. You're going to have to do this someday. Why not do it now? It's not like I call you every day. I don't see what the problem is.” I could feel the heat rise in my throat. He was going to make me beg. I could feel it, but no way was I going to allow that to happen.
“Meet me at Clover Park. Don't come to the house. There's no need to get everybody all worked up over this. I don't know what you expect me to do for you,” he complained.
“Yes, you do. This doesn't just happen to people. It happens because of people – people like you, so deal with it. I'm your son, remember?” My hands shook with frustration. No one could make me as angry as my father.
All the fight he had in him dissipated as soon as I said those words. He knew he owed me more than just this favor. He owed me a lifetime. Because my mother chose not to speak to him, didn't mean that I didn't have this need to connect with him.
It didn't take me long to figure out that he and I would never ever really be connected, not like my mother and I were. What I gained from growing up with my mother, I never took for granted, but a part of me always felt like I'd missed out on something, until my one true connection to my father and his family made itself known. That was the year everything changed for me. That year made what I'd just been through inevitable and my father was going to have to finally provide some answers for me whether he wanted to or not.
…
“You think I did this?” My father was really good at sounding innocent, but we both knew the truth.
“I think you a hand in this. Why wouldn't I think that?” I answered, sarcastically.
My father, Mark Moreno, a small town Nebraska police chief, always had a knack for deflecting blame. He was an innocent man in all matters where I was concerned.
Looking at him was like looking into my future. We had the same build, the same high cheek bones, and the same smile, except mine fell more on the sincerity side and his masked something dark and sinister most of the time.
“Why don't you explain to me how this all started?” Even with his own flesh and blood, his only son, he still managed to always sound like a cop. The only thing was, this wasn't some petty theft or vandalism case. This was my life. This was everything to me.
I still hadn't answered. There was no reason to. I'd said what I had to say already. Now, what I needed was a viable solution and protection for my mother and, possibly Regina, before things went any further.
He put his head in his hands, speaking low so others couldn't hear our conversation. “It's your birthright. This is what's expected. Either you live with it and let it carry you to places you've never known or you can cower in a corner somewhere and hope it remains dormant for a long time. My experience told me, dormancy didn’t last forever.
Finally, I spoke, “Regina moved out.”
My father hesitated, shocked by that news. He was the only person I knew who genuinely liked Regina and hoped that one day we'd marry. Although he and I didn’t have a relationship, news – any news – spread quickly in small towns. I never mentioned to anyone that she and I were having problems before today. There was no need to. Things had been going well between us for so long, it hit me hard when things suddenly became sour. Tense. Too emotional for my taste.
He asked, “Does she know?”
“What? The truth? Of course, she does. I have no reason to lie. Why hurt the people you love? Oh, I forgot; that’s how you get through life. I'm just glad I didn't inherit that from you too.” As soon as I'd said it, I regretted it.
My father raked his hands through his thinning silver mane. This wasn't a conversation he'd hoped to ever have with me. I knew that. He had other children. Children he raised. Children who adored him, but none of those children were born of his blood. The blood of his clan ran through my veins and although he wanted to forget I ever existed, that blood would ensure we would remain connected forever, despite my desire to keep him as far away from me as possible.
“Why would you tell her?” His eyes turned angry.
Standing, I puffed my chest out, feeling proud of myself for being so honest with someone I loved, unlike him. “She deserved the truth. Did you want me to let her think she had some kind of powers over me like you did to my mother? Did you expect me to lie to the woman I love? I'm not you. I wouldn't do that.”
He stood up, looked me directly in the eyes. “I loved your mother. I did that to protect her and you. Why can't you let it go?”
“Why can't you take responsibility?” I hadn't intended for the conversation to go this way, but I'd spent thirty plus years loath
ing this man. My mother and I had nothing but each other when I was growing up, while this man – lauded as a tough, no nonsense police officer with a good reputation and a good family – ran from us, hid like a coward. Of course, I was angry with him.
He sat down. “Who else knows?”
“No one,” I answered.
“Who else?” His tone was more stern this time.
I wasn't yet ready to tell him about Janelle. I still didn't really understand her myself. She was a clear distraction, but determining why would be up to me, not him.
“No one,” I answered again.
He took a deep breath.
“Tell me everything.”
I told him everything I thought was pertinent. He didn't need to know that Regina left me after I'd done everything I could to push her away from me. I practically forced her into another man's arms, but not because I didn't love her, but because I loved her too much.
She had such high hopes and big plans for us. I thought it was unfair to pull her into this part of my life and risk having a child born like me. I didn't know who I was. In spite of my best efforts to make myself normal – whatever normal was – the fact remained that I was not a man. I was an animal – a beast. A hybrid half-human, half-beast. I thought I had control over it. I thought I could function while denying that part of me, but it all became too much for me. The pull was too strong.
That's when the nightmares began and then wandering off at night. Regina worried that I was overworked and needed sleep, but as soon as it I knew started exactly what it was. What I didn't know is why something, some part of me that had vanished almost ten years earlier, had suddenly come back. What had I done wrong?
“So, why did you tell her? It would have been easier to let her believe you were tired or depressed or something. Now, you've put everyone in danger. What were you thin--”
“In danger? What are you talking about? How would I put anyone in danger? That's why I told her.”
It was happening again. I could feel the change coming on. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. I used to avoid being outside at night. I made sure that the moonlight never entered my house when I was angry. I don’t know why but something about being angry and the moonlight always had a negative effect on me. I did everything right.
My father saw the change coming. “Calm down. Things have gotten out of control. Let's get out of here. People are looking at us,” he warned, pointing me to his car.
Being a small town police chief, everyone knew who he was, but given that he spent so many years denying my existence, no one knew who I was.
Curious residents watched as we walked to his car. One was brave enough to ask him about me. “Wow! If I didn't know any better, Moreno, I'd swear that was your kid. Dang near looks just like you.” The man turned to me saying, “Don't worry, kid, Mother Nature isn't that cruel. She'll never let you look like this old devil.”
I tried to laugh, but it was difficult to do anything but feel like I'd been punched in the gut again by my father. Like I'd witnessed him do on several occasions, he chose to say nothing and let the old coot believe I was just another guy he knew.
“Get that look off your face. I don't need to tell everyone everything. I know you're my son,” he said it as if I was supposed to accept it and move on. Perhaps, that seemed right on the surface, but inside, I was boiling mad. I was tired of being denied and tired of lying to my mother about who I was and who my dad was. This had gone on for too long.
Choosing not to engage in a battle I had no chance of winning, I reverted back to my original question, “How did I put people in danger? Who are you talking about?”
My father started the car and backed out. Knowing I'd ask where we were going, he said, “We're going out to the Wildcats. It's time you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“You'll see. Now, shut your trap and let me try and fix this.” Again, an obvious sign that he had no clue how to deal with me. He spoke to me like I was a child. But, I did nothing to show him that I wasn't. Like all of the other people in his life, we just accepted what he told us and moved on, tucking our doubts out of sight.
…
My father moved like a man half his age. He barreled up the hill, choosing not to take the man-made path, and climbed through the brush. The fifteen-minute ride to the Wildcats gave both of us time to cool off and focus on what was important for the time being.
I needed a solution to my problems and he needed to get rid of me as quickly as he could. The morning had already turned to afternoon and we both knew that people would start looking for us. He had his staff and new family. I had my mother.
“Watch your step. Listen; there's coyotes out here. They'll hear us coming and run, I hope. But in case they don’t, be prepared to get out of here as quickly as your feet will carry you. They can sense these things. And, you might want to watch out for rattlesnakes. They love it up here,” he said it as if the thought tickled him.
Unlike him, I didn't care to spend my time up in the hills, surrounded by trees and who knows what kind of critters. These days, the only critters I saw were those coming down from the hills to my property. They'd wreak havoc on my crops and with my animals, but that was about it. I kept a close watch and did all that I could try to keep them at bay, but being keenly aware of their nature and their need to feed, there wasn't a whole lot I could do outside of killing them and that wasn't something I wanted to delve into, not if I intended to live life as normal a life as possible.
“What are we doing up here?” I asked, but my father didn't bother to answer. I knew he heard me.
Rustling in the brush ahead caused us both to pause. Our senses were heightened. I could smell whatever it was, but I'd not spent enough time learning all that I should have learned to know what it kind of threat was lurking.
A growl rumbled in my throat. Both my father and I growled in the direction of where the mountain lion waited for us. It growled in response, but didn't move from its position. Instead, the fierce creature arched its back, making it appear larger, as she readied to attack.
I had no defense. I was in the wrong form, but my low growl continued. My father began to shake. I knew what was happening. His change had always come easily. He knew what to do. He'd learned to control it.
Within seconds, he was transformed and staking his claim, daring the mountain lion to move. She remained in place, defending her stance. Without realizing what was happening, I'd begun my transformation too. Mine was painful because I'd spent so many years willing myself not to let it happen that I didn’t ever truly allow it to take hold properly.
My chest broadened. My jowls extended in one fell swoop and I collapsed into a fit of enraged metamorphosis until I stood side-by-side with my father, looking down at the mangled remains of the mountain lion that dared take us on.
In that state, I had no memory of what I'd done or why. The human part of me closed off and I was completely and utterly under the control of the wolf.
Our fresh kill remained on the top of the Wildcats as we made our slow, proud descent back down the hill part way to where my father wanted me to find the truth behind what was happening. Once we arrived, our human forms had returned.
“You cannot deny what you are. This is a gift,” he said proudly.
“Why can't I deny it? Isn't that what you've always done?”
The pride he felt disappeared with those words. My words were like a gut punch to him. Although they were true, he still felt as if I'd betrayed him somehow.
“Forget whatever it is you feel about me and think about your mother. Can't you feel what is happening? Don't you know that you've done something that you can never take back?” His face was red with anger. I'd seen that face before, but not when it was directed at something I'd done.
“I don't understand. What do you think I did? What I tell someone I care about is none of your business.”
He stood directly in front of me and shouted, “It is my business! You are my b
usiness!”
…
The last thing I wanted was company when I returned home, but as luck would have it, that's exactly what I had. Jesse was manning the grill, while my mother sat chatting with my work crew and Father Reynolds. I wasn't in the mood to deal with anyone right now. The information I'd just learned from my father had my head spinning. I needed time to think.
My mother jumped out of her seat as soon as she saw my truck. I smiled and waved, hoping she couldn't read the disappointment on my face.
“What took you so long, son? How are you feeling?” She hugged me, checking my forehead for any sign of a fever.
“I'm good. Long day. What's all this about?” I asked, pointing to the revelry in my front yard.
She shrugged, saying, “I thought we should celebrate. You've had a couple of rough nights, so I thought you could use some cheering up. Besides, Janelle was anxious to see you. You can't ruin a good thing before it's even started.”
“Janelle?” My heart jumped up in my throat. “Where is she?”
My mother mistook my question for interest. It didn't register with her that I didn't want to see Janelle. Not now and not like this. The information was still too fresh. I was still trying to reconcile my feelings about my father and hadn't decided yet if he was telling me the truth about her or her clan.
“She's inside. She's doing something special for you. She said her family has been making it for years. I like that. A woman that cooks will take good care of you.” My mother never failed to remind me that I needed a woman to care for me like she would.
“I'll be right back.” The only thing I could focus on was getting in my house to see what Janelle was up to. I needed to see for myself and I didn't care if it made me look crazy or not. I was going to just come out and ask her about her family and her lineage. Was she truly what my father suspected she was?
I didn't bother to stop and greet everyone. I would get to them later. I needed to get inside my house, but it seemed like everyone had to speak to me directly. First, Father Reynolds stood up to ask me how I'd been feeling. Then, Jesse stopped me in my tracks to shove a raw steak in front of me.
