Under My Skin (Wildlings)

by Charles de Lint

  "I don't know if it is or it isn't," I tell him. "I just know that no one wants to give us enough room to find out."

  We arrive at our classroom. Marina and I have English this period. I'm not sure what Desmond has. I catch his arm before he can go.

  "I know you think it's really cool," I say, "and a lot of the time, a big part of me agrees with you. But today's not one of those times."

  Desmond nods. "Sorry, dude. We should have saved this convo for another day."

  "No," I tell him. "This is also when I really needed to be reminded of the awesomeness."

  He grins and we bump fists. Then I follow Marina into the classroom.

  Marina

  It seems a long time until lunch. It's been hard enough to focus on everyday things ever since Laura was killed. This is worse. Josh seems really low and I'm worried about how he seems to be blaming himself for not picking up on Dillon's state of mind. I would love to be there for him, but after English, we both go to our separate classes. Eventually the long morning drags its way to the noon bell.

  Josh is waiting for me outside my chem class as I exit, and we walk to the lunchroom to hook up with Desmond.

  "He's going to let it slip, you know," I say as he falls into step beside me.

  He knows exactly what I'm talking about and shakes his head. "Come on. This is Desmond. He knows how serious this is."

  "Except he tends to talk first, think later. I don't think he'll do it on purpose, but—"

  "Don't worry. He'll be cool."

  I sigh. "Why did you have to tell us?"

  "You're my best friends. How could I not tell you?"

  I feel awful. Maybe I should have done the same, but maybe if I had, I'd be locked up by now. How can Josh be so sure that Desmond won't blow it?

  Josh sees the doubt on my face. "What?" he asks.

  "I just don't know. Maybe you shouldn't have. This is way more serious than any secret we'd normally share."

  He shakes his head. "It's just different. Anyway, Dillon kept it a secret and look what happened to him."

  That shuts me up.

  Desmond joins us just as we get to the lunchroom. I brought my lunch so I go grab a table while Desmond and Josh stand in line to buy theirs.

  I don't want to be nosy, but Josh's shoulders are slumped with despair, so I tune in to what he and Des are saying to each other.

  "What's with Gess?" I hear Desmond say to Josh. "He's totally giving you the evil eye."

  We all look over to where Desmond is jerking his thumb.

  Erik Gess is a tall white guy, so blond his hair's almost platinum. He's a big deal on the boy's track and field team, an A student, and he's the president of the Sunny Hill High Purity Club. They're like the nationwide Pure Love Club—you know, no sex, no drugs, no alcohol. Whatever. People are free to make their own choices and if they want to have an abstinence club, so be it.

  But on our campus, Erik and his pals take their mandate for purity a little further than the nationwide club does. They're as white bread as they come. No blacks, no Mexicans, no Asians, no Arabs. It's nothing that would ever be said aloud, but anyone who belongs to a minority in Sunny Hill knows better than to try to join the Purity Club.

  Erik is glaring at Josh as though he's Satan personified. I have no idea why he looks so pissed off. It's not as though Josh has done anything to him.

  Josh looks at Erik, then over at me. He sees that I'm picking up on this weird vibe.

  "Who knows," he mutters to Desmond as he turns back to the food counter. "Maybe he got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

  "I dunno. He looks seriously pissed."

  Josh shrugs. "Guys like him are always pissed about something or other."

  The cook hands Josh his order and he pushes his tray toward the cash.

  "Yeah, and today it's you," Desmond says.

  "Right. Just what I need. So I'll just stay out of his way."

  Josh and Des go through the cash, then join me at the table. Erik's animosity is like a physical presence in the room, but the three of us manage to ignore him all the way through lunch. As usual, when we finish eating, we go outside for some fresh air. I don't know about Josh and Desmond, but whenever I get outside, I feel like I can finally breathe again—doesn't matter what the weather is. That's only become more pronounced since I started sharing my skin with the otter.

  We're outside for only a couple of minutes when Erik's voice booms behind us.

  "Saunders!"

  We turn around to find him standing a few feet away with a couple of his track team buddies.

  "You need to listen very carefully to me," he says to Josh.

  "I don't know what this is about," Josh says, "but one of my best friends killed himself this morning. Whatever your problem is, I don't have the time or energy to deal with it right now."

  "Yeah?" he says. "Too bad, because I'm not in the mood to have another drug dealer in the school."

  "Say what?"

  "You heard me."

  "If you have a problem with dealers, go talk to the Ocean Avers."

  "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you? Have your competition do the dirty work for you. Rough me up. Then you can all sit around and have a laugh while you're getting high."

  "Are you nuts? What even makes you think I'm dealing?"

  "You were seen talking to Chaingang this morning—and it's not the first time. What are you doing? Working out your territories? Or do you just buy your dope from him?"

  I see Desmond's jaw drop, but I manage to keep my cool.

  "You need to give this a rest," Josh tells Erik.

  "Yeah, or what?"

  He gives Josh's shoulder a shove.

  "And don't go looking for your gang friends to help you here," he says. "Just because Chaingang's selling you dope, doesn't mean he gives a rat's ass what happens to you. You're no Ocean Aver."

  He starts to push him again, but Josh grabs his hand and holds it in place. I see the shock register on Erik's face when he realizes he can't move it. Josh squeezes his fingers and he winces.

  "Are you ready to back off now?" Josh asks.

  Erik strains to break free, but he's not going anywhere. Josh may be smaller than him, but being a Wildling makes him a lot stronger.

  "I said, are you ready to back off now?" he repeats.

  "Yeah, sure."

  But as soon as Josh lets him go, Erik takes a swing at him. It all happens so fast that it's hard to tell exactly what happened, but the next thing we know, Josh has Erik slammed up against the wall, his hand on his throat pinning him in place. Gess looks scared now, but that doesn't seem to faze Josh.

  "Whoa," Desmond says stepping up to them. "You don't want to go all mountain lion on him."

  I can't believe he just said that. From the look on Desmond's face, neither can he. Josh stares at Desmond then lets Erik go. Gess staggers and puts his hand up to his throat.

  "He went all mountain lion on me first," Josh says, trying to cover up, like 'going mountain lion' is some kind of slang we use.

  But Erik doesn't buy it and neither does anyone who was close enough to see the fight. It's clear what they're thinking. Josh shouldn't have been able to deal so easily with Gess. He's got the height and weight on Josh and he should have had the strength. He has to be in good shape to do so well in track and field. Josh is just Josh and everybody knows it. Just like everybody knows the news stories about the mountain lion that was in his house.

  "You're one of them," Erik says, backing off a step. "You're a Wildling."

  The look on his face says he likes Wildlings even less than non-whites and drug dealers. No big surprise there. The Purity Club worships guys like Congressman Householder.

  "Don't be crazy," Josh says. "I'm not a dealer and I'm for sure not a Wildling." He takes a step toward Erik. "I mean, look at me. Do I look like some powerhouse Wildling?"

  Erik backs away, not wanting to engage in another showdown. He turns to his friends and they all retreat back t
oward the school door.

  "This isn't over," Gess calls back over his shoulder.

  Everybody that's outside is staring at Josh.

  "Dude," Desmond starts. "I—"

  I elbow Des in the side before he can go on.

  "You're such an ass," I say, pitching my voice loud enough that it will carry. "People are going to think he really is a Wildling."

  "I'm not," Josh says.

  "Well, we know that."

  I don't know how many people are buying it, but when I focus my hearing, the other kids are talking more about the fight and how Erik backed off after Josh used some kind of kung fu on him. A few are wondering about Josh being a Wildling, but more of them wonder if Josh is really dealing. I hear one guy say to his buddy, "I wonder if his shit's cheaper than what the Avers are pushing."

  The bell rings for us to return to classes. Everybody starts to go back inside, but Josh hesitates. I come up alongside him and slip my arm into his.

  "I think you're okay," I tell him quietly. "Nobody's really sure of what they saw. It's not like you changed—it was just a stupid fight. And everybody knows Erik's an ass. They're not going to listen to him."

  I hope I'm right.

  Josh

  Marina couldn't be more wrong.

  Right after the first period of the afternoon, I'm walking by the administration offices on the way to my next class when Principal Hayden takes me aside. I can't look at Mrs. O'Shay as he ushers me into the office and closes the door. This time I know why Hayden wants to talk to me and I'm embarrassed that she's seeing me here in the office again. Hayden doesn't waste any time once we're inside where—thankfully—it's only the two of us this time. Nobody's called in the Feds yet.

  He sits down behind his desk and waves me to a chair.

  "I've heard something disturbing," he says, looking at me over steepled fingers, elbows on his desk.

  "Does this have anything to do with Erik Gess?" I ask.

  He nods.

  "I'm not dealing drugs, sir. I don't even do drugs. I tried some hash once and all it did was make me sick."

  I realize I'm doing that thing that the cop shows on TV always say you shouldn't: blathering and giving away far too much information when I should keep my mouth shut and see what Hayden has to say. But my nervousness has turned me into a motor-mouth.

  "You're admitting to drug use," he says.

  "I said I tried it once and I didn't like it. And it wasn't at school."

  I want to knock myself on the back of my head because I'm still doing it.

  "And it made you sick," he says.

  I sigh. "Yes, sir."

  "But that hasn't stopped you from selling it."

  "I'm not a dealer."

  "Then why does Erik say you are?"

  "I don't know, sir. You'll have to ask him."

  Principal Hayden nods. He regards me for a long moment.

  "Tell me about this other matter," he says.

  I'm learning, because all I say is, "Sir?"

  "Erik says you're a Wildling."

  "I'm not."

  "And yet this is the second time you've been in this office because of something related to Wildlings."

  I want to say, and what's wrong with Wildlings? Are we suddenly against the law? But this time I stay smart and keep my mouth shut.

  "Well?" Hayden asks.

  "What more do you want me to say, sir?"

  "Why would Erik say that?"

  I hesitate for a moment. I just want this to go away, but I can tell by the look in Hayden's eyes that he's going to keep after me until he gets some answers. The last thing I need is for him to get on the phone to the FBI.

  "Sir, he's a racist and he picked a fight with me," I say. "I used some self-defence moves I saw on YouTube. Erik didn't come off well in the fight and I guess this is just his way of saving face."

  "How so?"

  "Look at me. I'm a head shorter. If he tells everybody I'm a Wildling, then he doesn't look like a wuss for letting a little guy like me stand up to him the way I did."

  Hayden gives a slow nod.

  "Do you know we have zero tolerance toward violence in this school?" he says.

  "Yes, sir. And zero tolerance toward bullying, too."

  Hayden looks at me, but doesn't say anything. My heart's sinking. The last kids who had a fight on campus each got a couple of weeks' suspension. If that happens, how am I ever supposed to explain it to Mom?

  "So are you telling me you were trying to defend yourself?" he asks finally. "That he started it and you were only protecting yourself from his attack?"

  "Sir, I'm upset today and I lost my temper. I have to accept the consequences."

  He gives me a long considering look before he says, "That's a mature attitude, Josh. I appreciate a student who understands and accepts responsibility for his actions."

  I don't know what to say to that, so I just offer up a "Yes, sir."

  "You're getting a week of detention," he says. "Lunchtime and after school."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Mrs. O'Shay will give you a hall pass."

  "Yes, sir."

  I get the pass and head off to my class. As I walk down the hall, I hear the announcement over the school PA: "Erik Gess. Please report to the office immediately."

  I don't really care what happens to Erik, but I'd rather he didn't have the chance to plead his case against me all over again. There's nothing I can do about it, though.

  I sit through class wishing I were a fly on the wall in Principal Hayden's office. The only positive thing is that I don't get called back to the office. Which means I'm either in the clear or Hayden is still grilling Erik. Or worst-case scenario, he's already called the FBI and letting them handle it.

  When class is over, Marina and I head for the library because we both have a study period. As we make our way to a free study station, I see Rachel Armstrong sitting at a table by the windows with a couple of her friends. They pretend indifference when I catch them checking us out, but Rachel gives me a high-wattage smile before she looks away.

  "Well," Marina says when we sit down.

  "Well what?"

  "From the way she was flirting with you, looks like you actually might have a shot with Rachel. At least, for as long as it takes for her to satisfy her curiosity about you."

  "Meow."

  "Oh, please. We both know she's as shallow as she's cute."

  "How do we know that's not just a stereotype?"

  "Come on."

  "Okay. So maybe I have a shot with her. The funny thing is I'm not really interested anymore."

  Marina's eyebrows shoot up.

  "Elzie is more than enough for any one guy," I say. "I don't need to go looking elsewhere."

  She smiles. "Spoken like a good boyfriend." Then her smile fades and she leans forward, elbows on the table, chin supported.

  "What happened when you went to the office?" she asks.

  "I got a week's detention."

  "For?"

  "Fighting."

  "Why'd he let you off so easy? Jimmy Ford and Dave Lawson each got two weeks' suspension when they got caught."

  "I know. He said it was because I owned up to it and didn't try to make excuses. I think he might be cutting me a bit of slack 'cause of Dillon, too, though he didn't say that."

  "Huh. And what about Gess accusing you of dealing and the Wildling stuff? Did any of that come up?"

  "I'm pretty sure he doesn't think I'm dealing and he doesn't seem to have made up his mind yet about the Wildling business."

  "So that's good, right?"

  I shrug. "He called Erik back to the office."

  "The whole school heard that. Why do you think Rachel's suddenly interested in you? You've gone from some guy she's maybe noticed in the halls to the guy who stood up to Erik Gess."

  "I'm also the guy who might be a Wildling."

  She smiles. "Well, yeah, there's that, too. But I don't think anyone's taking it too seriously."

 
"Erik did. What if he convinces Hayden that I am?"

  "The cops would be on your ass by now."

  "I guess."

  She opens her history textbook.

  "We should at least be pretending to study," she says.

  I glance at Ms. Fyad standing behind her desk. I don't think the school librarian cares what we do in here, so long as we aren't loud. But I crack my history book all the same. The words blur on the page in front of me, no matter how much I try to concentrate.

  It's weird. When I'm keeping busy, I can almost forget how the day started. That business with Erik after lunch, talking to Marina right now, worrying in class about what Erik might be saying to Mr. Hayden ... it all distracts me. But as soon as there's a down moment, it all comes rushing back: the big black cloud of Dillon having killed himself. Some friend I ended up being.

  I guess my face is showing what I'm going through because Marina bumps her textbook against mine to get my attention.

  "You know," she says, as though we hadn't stopped talking, "this Wildlings business goes back forever."

  It takes me a moment to get out of my head and focus on her voice.

  "What?" I say. "Random kids turning into animals?"

  "No, stories about animal people. They show up in folktales and mythologies from pretty much everywhere in the world. They just don't call them Wildlings."

  I sit up. "What do they call them?" I ask.

  "Shape-shifters, skin-walkers, cousins, animal people—stuff like that. I ran across a cool site the other night that has all these stories from the Kikimi tribe in Arizona. They're about crow boys and antelope girls and this scary guy they call Old Man Panther. I'll send you the URL."

  "Okay, but what about what's happening here in Santa Feliz? Has anything like this happened before?"

  "You'd think it must have, but it didn't show up in any of my searches."

  "Cory told me that the Wildlings—he calls them cousins—have kept their lives secret for hundreds of years. Then kids here started changing and it got all over the news. Now suddenly the whole world knows about it."

  Marina leans across the table. "But what if this happened in the past, before information could go viral? They didn't have the Internet back in the old days. The government could have covered it up, like Roswell."