by Lewis, D. C.
Pressing her body up close to the old giant, she peered out towards the road. The tree was still damp, having not fully dried out from the morning dew since it spent most of its time covered in its own shade. Kiera could hear the moisture falling all around her, providing sustenance to fledgling plants and trees reaching up with all their strength to gain every bit of height possible, their leaves stretching towards the sunlight.
Kiera noticed that her feet felt wet and looked down to realize that in her haste to hide, she had run through the mud around the paw print. Her white shoes were ruined.
"Great, just great, now I get to go all the way back home with wet shoes. Smooth move Kiera," she mumbled to herself. "But that does give me the chance to go shopping," she realized. This revelation put a small smile on her face as she saw the car come around the curve.
A faded blue minivan came into view. It looked like a much older model, rust spots covering the hood and cab, making the van look like it had some deadly disease, or at the very least a bad case of acne. The engine didn't run very smoothly, and Kiera could smell an unusual amount of smoke coming from the tailpipe. It sounded like the van was on the brink of death.
"Who would be driving a beat-down old loser cruiser down this road," she thought. Racking her brain, she couldn't think of anyone she knew with such a vehicle.
The windows had an awful "do-it-yourself" tint job that made it impossible to make out who was sitting in the driver's seat. The only thing Kiera could tell was that it was a woman. Possibly someone to come ask her mother to mediate a problem, was Kiera's best guess. It wouldn't be the first time this had happened. It seemed as if someone were always coming to Katrina for advice.
Convinced that this was what was happening, Kiera felt a little silly for cowering in the woods like a frightened pup, but she decided to hold her position until the van was well out of sight.
Moving at what seemed a snail's pace, the van finally passed her. Kiera could easily see a "I Love My Dog" sticker on the bumper, with a picture of some small breed of dog right below the wording.
"I love my dog," Kiera mocked in a high-pitched and childish voice. "Who cares?"
The van finally putted out of sight and Kiera left her hiding spot. Her shoes squeaked with each step, reminding her of her carelessness and getting on her nerves. Headed back down to the print, she realized that in her hurry to hide, she had actually stepped directly onto the print, ruining it and covering any scents it might have held. All that she could see was the leftmost pad and claw print. Once again admonishing herself for her foolishness, she quickly scanned the surrounding area to ensure that there were no more prints. She was pretty confident that she wouldn't find any but she would not be satisfied unless she made the effort to look.
As she suspected, that was the only print. Once again berating herself, she decided to return home to see if the van was waiting at her driveway.
Even with the heat, Kiera had shivers running up and down her spine as she began the trek home. She saw eyes behind every tree, something waiting for her under every bush as she squished her way home in her wet shoes. Too much was going on for her young mind to be able to fully process it. She wrestled with the idea of telling Katrina but was unsure how she would react. Fearing another lecture on "responsibility" she decided to forgo telling her mother right then.
Her shoes squeaked louder and louder with each step. The water-laden leather became uncomfortable so Kiera decided to take her shoes off and finish the journey barefoot. She moved from the pavement to the grassy shoulder, wet dirt squishing between her toes. She giggled in childish glee, momentarily forgetting her current crisis and regressing back to childhood. She couldn't remember the last time she walked barefoot like this but admitted that it did feel really good. Being able to feel the earth beneath her bare feet provided a better connection with nature, as if she were meant to walk like this.
Picking up the pace, she started jogging, with each stride watching her feet become totally immersed in muddy ground. The cool mud covered her tan feet in its cool capsule and then flung in all directions when she pulled her foot from its suction. By the time she got back home, she was covered in mud. The irony was not lost on her that she had paid hundreds of dollars to be covered in mud at the spa though it did smell considerably better than this. Still, the earthy smells had their own appeal.
Finally making her way back to her mother's house, she saw the van sitting at the front gate, the driver ringing the doorbell on the intercom.
"She must be determined," Kiera thought, considering that while she, herself, didn't exactly take her time getting home, it still took her about 15 minutes to arrive.
"Has she been sitting there ringing that stupid bell the entire time?"
Walking up from behind the van, Kiera could make out the person's face in the driver's side mirror. For a split second she thought it was Katrina driving the car, until she got a better look. While the hair and skin complexion was similar, the turquoise colored eyes were vastly different. The driver's face was slimmer than Katrina's, and slightly more oval, with high cheekbones and a button nose. This woman would be considered pretty by many people.
As Kiera approached the van from the driver's side, those eyes turned cold as the woman's head swiveled to regard her. Kiera found it odd that a woman such as this was driving such a run-down old van, that it must somehow be a joke. The woman's looks and bearing clearly showed that such a mode of transportation was clearly beneath her station and Kiera is quite sure that it wasn't self-imposed. Though Kiera has never seen this woman before, there was something familiar about her that had nothing to do with her resemblance to her mother. She smelled something very familiar, something that she knew she should recognize but that she couldn't quite grasp, like when you try to catch smoke. You know it was there but is gone so quickly that it doesn't leave a trace, it just slips right through your fingers.
Standing there covered in mud, Kiera felt slightly embarrassed as the woman looked her up and down. Kiera noticed a grimace on the woman's face, one that she would get when she encountered something she didn't like. Lifting her head in a haughty manner to peer down her nose at the mud-spattered teenager, she spoke in a musical voice that was laced with displeasure.
"You must be Kiera," she said as more of a statement than a question. "Is your mother home?"
Completely intimidated and unable to trust herself to speak, Kiera simply shook her head. Her hesitation was noticed by the woman and she cut a small grin, the right side of her mouth going up ever so slightly, a look that was more sinister than humorous.
"Tell her I stopped by and that we need to talk"
Before Kiera could find her powers of speech and ask the woman who she was, the van cranked up and peeled away. A large cloud of bluish smoke, emitted from the broken tailpipe of the blue behemoth, found its way to Kiera just as she was inhaling. The toxic fumes filled her lungs, causing her to fall into such a round of coughing that she saw spots in her vision from the exertion of trying to clear the smoke from her inner body. When the smoke cleared and she looked towards the van headed now into town, she could barely make out the smile on the woman's face in the driver's side mirror. The smile chilled her to the bone.
Twelve
Larissa was fuming. This whole predicament was embarrassing and completely uncalled for. Now to add injury to insult, she had to have interaction with the blonde pup while she was driving that junky van. But it did provide her with the first close up inspection of Kiera. How could Katrina Hemming have possibly given birth to such a weak offspring? Apparently the rumors were true and she wanted to live as a human. She did seem to spend a lot time with that social outcast Brandon Phelan. All the better for Larissa's intentions. It would be all that much easier to usurp control of the pack from Katrina if she didn't have a strong heir. Still, being in the presence of such a weak and powerless Lycoan set Larissa's teeth on edge. To think that Katrina wanted such a pathetic creature to rule over the pack was simultane
ously laughable and infuriating.
The van bounced all over the perfectly smooth road and with it so did Larissa's thoughts. "What if she wants to try to take over," she thought while fighting the steering wheel to keep her conveyance pointed in a straight line. The suspension and steering had long worn out on the dilapidated box on wheels but Larissa refused to spend any money on her imposed punishment. Of course she didn't have any money to spend, that being taken away as part of her punishment.
The more she considered her situation, the more furious she became. The thought of spending any more time under the leadership of the Hemmings caused her to want to pull her hair out. Her beautiful hair was her favorite feature about herself. She would spend hours combing it, making sure every strand was in its assigned position. She spent hundreds of dollars a month on product for her hair, making sure it was washed and moisturized to give it that blue-black sheen she was so fond of. She hadn't been able to take care of her hair in weeks, being forced to eke out her existence in the woods, living out of the stupid van, not being allowed to return home until Katrina decided she had been punished enough.
The only positive side to the whole banishment was that she was beginning to develop sympathy among other members of the pack. These fellow Lycoans who had historically been immune to Larissa's talk of dissent and need for new leadership were starting to find the length of the punishment a little extreme. Though not ready to confront Katrina directly, the seeds of dissent were now being planted in their minds, from which Larissa hoped a full-fledged rebellion would grow. Then she herself would finally be able to challenge Katrina for the right to be Alpha, and thus control the pack. And what a glorious day that would be. Larissa would take over the big house overlooking the water. She might allow Katrina to be her servant, if she didn't kill her first. The blonde pup would be completely cut off from everything. She would have to live the rest of her life destitute, scrounging out an existence on what she could scavenge. She would look even worse than she did today all covered in mud. She would look like the worthless creature she was. The thought put a smile on Larissa's face and temporarily allowed her to forget her current circumstances.
Things had already been put into motion. Katrina was losing her grip. Soon she would no longer be the strongest member of the pack. Already she was showing signs of weakening. Physical altercations were no longer so sure and Katrina was barely able to come out the victor in the last few. Another month or two and Larissa would be taking the reins of leadership.
But could she wait that long? And what if Kiera decided she wanted to try and take over control? Larissa decided that Kiera was the wild card and must be taken completely out of the equation. She had the ability to screw up everything that Larissa had spent years working on. Maybe it was time to give her a little motivation to continue her facade of living as a human. Maybe it was time to encourage her to leave and never come back.
A dark plan was forming in Larissa's mind her eyes gleamed with fury.
Thirteen
Unsettled by her encounter with the strange woman, Kiera punched in the gate code and headed inside. More than what meets the eye had occurred during the exchange and it bothered Kiera that the woman had such an apparent disdain for her, almost as if there were some unknown grudge being held. What it was, Kiera had no idea, this being the first time she had laid eyes on the woman. Although the woman had seemed to know her. Having to refer to her as "the woman" also rankled Kiera. Not having any clue as to what her name was caused further irritation. It was almost as if the woman felt that Kiera didn't require enough respect to have the honor of knowing what her name was. Kiera was also disappointed in herself that she didn't take better control of the situation, but there was something about the woman in the van that made Kiera feel very uncomfortable and on the defensive.
Before going into the house, Kiera went around back to hose her feet and legs off so that she didn't track mud into the house. She considered spending a few minutes under the outdoor shower but had a strong desire to get to the safety of her bedroom as soon as possible. She took a few moments to spray the mud off her shoes to see if they could possibly be salvaged, but realized that even if all the mud washed off, the shoes would likely mildew as they dried, and the thought of putting her feet in such a smelly environment didn't appeal to Kiera in the least. On the way into the house, the shoes found their way into the big green garbage can in the driveway.
Suddenly feeling exhausted, Kiera didn't race up the stairs to her bedroom, instead taking her the steps one at a time. Making her way into her room, she pulled off her dirty clothes and threw them into the hamper in her closet. Looking at herself in the mirror, she was surprisingly devoid of any dirt on her body but felt the need to grab the blue washcloth hanging on the towel rack next to her sink and give herself a little bird bath. The blue rag got stained with dirt particles that had not collected in enough density to be visible but were there hiding in the pores of her skin, like guerilla warriors just waiting for their opportunity to attack and soil whatever clothing or bedding she would contact next.
Drying off with the matching towel, she threw it over the shower curtain rod and flopped down on her bed. Wriggling to the center of the big bed, Kiera adopted the classic full lotus posture known as the Padmasana. Using her hands to pull her left foot high on her right thigh near her groin, she repeated the process for her right foot, bringing it up to her left thigh close to her groin. Sitting perfectly straight and absolutely still, she rested her hands on their respective knees, palm up, with only the forefinger and thumb touching. Many people find the amount of bending in this pose to be rather uncomfortable but for someone as flexible as Kiera, it is actually quite comfortable, giving her thighs a good stretch. It also takes a lot of discipline to sit in this pose for any amount of time which is why Kiera liked it; it challenged her.
Meditation is something she had only discovered in the past year. She had always thought it was something those New Age quacks engaged in, a conversation piece so that people thought you were enlightened when you said "Yeah, I meditate, it helps center me". She had written it off as pure silliness until it was recommended to her by her therapist.
The therapist was something new as well to and something Katrina didn't know about. The experience had been part of her Freshman Seminar class. The university figured that many of the new students would be having adjustment issues, being away from their families and on their own for the very first time in their lives, and that having a few sessions with a campus counselor would be beneficial. Kiera had been very resistant to go, afraid of what would come out in therapy. She remembered seeing shows where the traumas of childhood would reveal themselves and the person would have an emotional breakdown, leaving in worse condition than when they came. Kiera had enough on her plate and wasn't very interested in adding any more to it. In fact she considered taking the one letter grade penalty for not going. It was Lara who finally convinced her to go.
Walking into the office for the first time she was apprehensive, unsure what to expect. She knew her therapist's name was Dr. Murphy and that he was "really nice" according to Lara who had gone earlier in the week. Sitting in the waiting room dreading the upcoming interaction, she was happy that she was the only one there. She also didn't feel like making small talk, and having to do so was an aggravation she didn't want to deal with any more than she wanted to deal with talking to a therapist.
Sitting there watching the clock rapidly make its way to her 11 o'clock appointment, she was amazed at how quickly time passed when it was leading up to something you didn't want to do, and conversely, how slowly when it was something you did. Before she knew it, her name was being called. She didn't fail to notice that it was exactly eleven.
Practically dragging herself into Dr. Murphy's office, neither the man nor the office was what she was expecting. Dr. Murphy stood there with a warm smile on his face. Instead of looking like an intimidating clone of Sigmund Freud, Dr. Murphy had a very casual air about h
im. Kiera guessed his age to be late thirties to early forties. Thinning hair and a beard flecked with gray, he had a genuine kindness in his eyes that put Kiera at ease. He was of average height and by the looks of his tanned face and arms, liked to spend time in the great outdoors further demonstrated by his lean build. Kiera noticed that he smelled clean, almost as if he had just gotten out of the shower.
The office was unique in its own way. While it had the standard desk and chairs, it also had beanbag chairs littered throughout the room and from the look of them, they received the majority of use. Pictures of various outdoor scenes with who Kiera could only believe were Dr. Murphy's wife and two children, hung from the walls, giving a 360-degree view of scenery. Kiera noticed that the pictures were arranged by season, one wall containing pictures of snowy landscapes, another wall the blue waters and white sands of a tropical beach, and so forth. The air was laden with the soothing smell of incense being burned somewhere, yet Kiera couldn't see any smoke, or pinpoint where the smell was coming from. Surprisingly, Kiera didn't see any diplomas or other framed certifications hanging anywhere in the office, almost as if Dr. Murphy didn't really consider those things important. Since this did not support her preconceived notion of what therapy was going to be like, her apprehension returned. As if he read her mind, Dr. Murphy spoke.
"Not what you were expecting huh? You were thinking there was going to be a miniature library or maybe a bronze sculpture of myself or maybe even a big leather chair that I sit in while I devise new and ingenious methods of torturing my clients?" he said with a chuckle. Feeling slightly uncomfortable, Kiera couldn't help but smile, because that was exactly what she was thinking.
Once again, looking into his kind eyes, Kiera felt her body relax. She felt like this was a man she could trust, maybe not with everything about her, but with enough to where she thought she might receive a little benefit from therapy.
