All that was forgotten though as Mom and I stood on the lip of the forest in our wolf form, eager to feel the wind beneath our feet. Eager to run away from the day’s frustrations and be nothing but a simple element of nature.
Behind us the bonfire burned bright, and hot-headed teens stripped down to rush off into the night. I’d never brought Mom to the bonfire before—afraid she’d shut it all down when she learned that most people drank alcohol before a run—but she didn’t react the way I thought she would. Instead she took a beer when it was offered and simply gave me ‘the look’, making a statement that if I ever even thought about drinking alcohol before I was twenty-one, she would skin me alive and use my fur to keep her feet warm.
I decided it was pretty cool having her here, even cooler that I could now join everyone on their run instead of sitting back and feeding the fire until they returned at dawn.
As the trees waved bare branches overhead we stood looking into the darkness deeper into the forest, the crisp wind moving our fur softly. Then, in a voice that was neither words nor thought, Mom told me to meet her at the clearing—where we’d howl with the alpha later on—but for now, she needed to run alone. And so did I. It was the best way to clear out all those old ghosts making the heart go stale.
Once Mom was a mile or so ahead I burst into the tree line like a playful puppy, bounding over rocks and branches, ducking low and jumping high as I soared through the forest. Under the elation of a wild run I was also half nervous and half curious about what my pack would do when I waltzed in to the clearing as their equal. Most of them saw me on the peak that first night I turned, so all knew now that I could take on wolf form, but I hadn’t yet run with any of them. Word had spread quickly after my first shift, bringing out of the woodwork more parents admitting their children were half wolves. As a result, Mom now had a rather lucrative side business making bine-runes. At least ten people had half-wolf kids, some even coming in from other packs to buy our runes. No one judged me for it now, but they still judged me for no longer being the queen of them all. After all, this had never happened in the entire history of our pack.
A few feet on either side of me I could sense other wolves, lingering out of curiosity but not coming near enough to seem a threat. They wanted to get a sense of me—of what I was and what I’d been through—as much as I wanted to keep it all a secret. But nothing ever stayed secret in this pack, and eventually they would all know how I felt about what happened at the mansion. They would all know its horrors and they’d be glad it didn’t happen to them.
For now, though, I would keep it to myself, so I ran on, harder and faster than any of them dared to go.
I arrived at the clearing, cold in the nose and with energized paws, just as the moon sat at the highest point. Up on the peak, Theo stood overlooking the night, his shiny black coat gleaming, a human beside him. My heart skipped when I realized it was Katy, safe and well and standing tall in modern clothes, with one hand resting on her companion’s head. He was making a statement by having her here, and it incited a lot of fuss around the pack members standing beneath them.
I pushed through them all and came to stand at the head, my eyes shooting in a direct line to the alpha. He looked right down at me, the distance meaning nothing to us, and bowed his head. I bowed mine in return, rolling my snout up then at the moon as Theo howled. Rightfully, the Elders should have been the first to howl after the alpha, but as if making a statement to my pack I opened my throat and let it out into the night. No one challenged me; not Theo, not the Elders, not even my own mother; they simply joined the chorus, taking my stand to mean what it was supposed to: I was no longer their queen and alpha, but I would forever hold firm footing at Theo’s side. I would forever stand taller, be placed higher than any of them, and for that I deserved respect. For ending our barbaric traditions and saving future generations of young girls, I deserved respect. And I would demand it.
When the howling ended with Theo taking leave, I sat back on my haunches and lifted a paw in a very human wave at Katy. She smiled and waved back, turning away then to follow Theo. I wished I could go with them, but bold as I might be I was not so disrespectful as to engage in an uninvited run with the alpha. At least, not tonight.
Mom came up behind me then and bumped me softly with her shoulder, sitting down after.
Where to? she said.
I remember you and Dad talking about those hidden falls. I want to run there.
I’m not sure I’m ready. I haven’t been out there since…
Since he died, I said for her.
She lowered her snout.
I got up, wagging my tail. Come on. It’ll be fun.
But she didn’t move. I lowered my head and trotted back over, sitting down in front of her.
Mom, I know it’ll be sad seeing the falls again without Dad. And I know that’s why you haven’t gone back, but I bet you always imagined going back alone, right?
Mom looked up at me, her eyes clear even in the dark.
Bet you never imagined showing them to me.
If wolves could smile, then she surely just smiled. We both took off running then, like two dogs that heard a chocolate wrapper in another room, and after a while I let Mom take the lead, since I had no idea where I was going. It felt great to run with her—to be free and let loose, not bound by borders and restricted areas and ugly goons on my trail. This was the best run ever, and as much as I knew now that there were no fences around me any longer, tonight was the first time I truly felt it.
***
As I headed back to the bonfire the sun reared its warm head, touching the hills with soft, auburn light. But before I reached the smoky dirt surrounds I caught a scent on the breeze. A familiar, doggy scent.
I switched course and headed sideways toward the cemetery, following the smell. Whatever Sacha did when she visited George’s grave we still weren’t sure, but I had assumed she was pining for him. Until now.
Her scent, I realized, was a happy one. She was excited as she trotted her way to see George, and when I arrived on the fence line to the cemetery, the old church steeple blocking the path of the sun and making it easy to spot her across the way, Sacha’s ears twitched. At first I heard a low, guttural growl, but as I approached her with my head down, the ears came up and the tail wagged. She came over to me, snout to the ground and licked my nose cautiously, testing the waters.
What are you doing here, girl? I thought. And as it was with wolves, words didn’t translate quite like human words did, and it wasn’t like she could read my mind, but there was still the ability to understand.
She turned her head and looked at George’s gravestone.
I looked too, waiting to see what it was she had to show me.
It’s just a stone, I thought, disappointed.
Sacha sat down, tongue out, her happy face on, as though she was just waiting for George to break the ground and surface to play. I didn’t want to disappoint her, but if ever she was to learn that he wouldn’t come back, now was the time. In this form, I could make her understand.
As I went to move around and sit in her line of sight, she stood up like a puppy waiting for a treat, giving one soft bark. I followed her eyes to the gravestone again, and there, touched lightly by the morning sun, was a green bird with red-tipped wings.
My hairs stood on end, the whole world coming to a standstill around me. I got up too and whimpered at the bird, staying back though, like Sacha.
A moment later another green bird came down and landed beside the first—a strikingly familiar bird, with wise eyes that fixed on us from across the way.
Wolf and dog side by side; two green birds side by side. We stared at each other for the longest time, my thoughts racing, wishing Alex was here to see this. It was uncanny. Too uncanny. I knew I could rationalize it away, but instead I chose to believe that maybe that bird was the spirit of George, and beside it his mom, returning from the land of lake and sea to say goodbye.
I turned away. Wi
th the rising sun and the waning power of the moon I’d shift back soon to human form. I didn’t want to be naked in a graveyard when that happened. I needed to make it to the bonfire before I changed, but first I needed to go get Alex.
No, scratch that; he was already here.
“Sacha!” he called, running down the slope through the iron gates. His eyes scanned the graveyard, hand pressed to his brow where the rising sun blinded him. He didn’t see me in front of him until he got close enough to almost step on me. He stopped dead, staring down at me, half scared, half awed. “A wolf.”
I whimpered and lowered my head to show I wasn’t a threat.
Alex, in his boots and shorts and a long trench coat, squatted down before me. “Hey there, girl.”
I walked slowly into his hands and let him rub my neck, even though I really didn’t like that.
“Hey, are you human?” he said. I lifted my head and his eyes went to my necklace, widening. “No way.”
As if to say ‘Yes way,’ I sat back on my hindquarters and panted softly—smiling.
“Red?” he said to confirm. But he already knew.
He looked over at Sacha, who came up slowly and sat beside me like a dog in trouble for running off again. I really wanted him to look at the headstone and see the birds—before they flew off—but he couldn’t understand my gestures.
Sacha, I said.
Sacha moved her eyes onto me.
Show him.
She turned away then and I followed, sensing Alex’s presence behind us as he followed too. He knew we had something to show him, but he didn’t notice the strange birds there on the stone until I licked his hand and jerked my snout in their direction.
“No way,” he said breathily, getting down on his knees beside me. He looked at Sacha and laughed. “So that’s why you’ve been coming here?”
Sacha sat down with a whimper and Alex looked at the birds again, a new kind of smile flooding his face. He believed it, I could tell. He could have rationalized it away with anything in the world, but he chose to believe it instead, and I was proud of him for that.
The two birds took flight, passing low over Alex’s head as they went. He laughed, ducking down, and then watched over his shoulder as they flew away.
“Go on, George!” he yelled happily as he stood, waving his arms like a marooned man on a beach. “Get out of here! You don’t belong here anymore.”
Sacha got up and barked at the birds and I just sat and watched Alex cheer, jumping around like a wonderful, beautiful lunatic. I decided then that perhaps he was a bit mad, but I also liked it.
“Aw,” he said, squatting and roughly wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “If that’s not closure right there, then I don’t know what is.”
I turned my head and licked his face, making a mental note to tell him how not to hug a wolf. Also making a note never to hug Sacha like this ever again.
A willow of dread slinked through me then as I felt the change begin in my bones. I looked around the cemetery for prying eyes, wondering if I had enough time to dart into the trees before it happened. But like a rush of bile up my throat with little time to get to a bucket, my form began to shift. A freaked-out wail left Alex’s throat and he scuttled back against George’s headstone, wide eyes grasping for explanation and yet failing to comprehend.
I kept his gaze, wishing this hadn’t happened, watching his face go from horrified to curious to revolted and, finally, as I crouched naked in front of him, horrified even more. He ripped off his coat and walked over to me, eyes shut.
I stood up and took it, hiding myself under its warm folds.
“I didn’t see anything, I swear,” he said.
“You better not have.” I punched him softly in the arm. “What’s wrong with you? You couldn’t look away?”
“Could you if you saw that?” he retorted.
I rolled my eyes. No, I never had. I was always fascinated with the change. Now, I felt like a circus freak.
“You didn’t tell me,” he said, eyes scanning every inch of me. “Why didn’t you tell me you could turn?”
“You weren’t ready to talk about it all.”
He put his hands in his hair, pushing it off his face, then he sat back down against George’s stone. “I’m ready now.” He swallowed hard. “I mean, holy crabsticks. You have to tell me everything now.”
I laughed and sat down beside him, my knees and ankles cold in the icy morning. “Crabsticks?”
“Yes. Crabsticks! Now…” —he shook his head in disbelief— “what happened up there on that hill?”
I sat back, looking up at the peak of the tower rising just over the trees—the one where I used to live—welcoming Sacha’s warm body when she came to sit on my legs. “Where to start?”
“At the beginning—from the moment you arrived at the mansion.”
“Well…” I started, remembering it all for the first time since I explained it to Mom. “The mansion wasn’t anything like I remembered it…”
Once I finished my story—a quick version, so we didn’t freeze and die by the final act—Alex shook his head, rubbing his cold hands together between his bare knees. “You had it worse than me.”
I thought about Max and what Luther had done to him. I didn’t, of course, tell Alex it was kind of his fault. I told him it was because I refused to wear anything but jeans, which wasn’t completely a lie, but other than that, and the obvious horrible ending, it wasn’t anywhere near as bad as losing a sibling. “No,” I offered, “I definitely think you had it worse.”
“But admit it,” he said, “I was right about the silver.”
“You were,” I confessed, trying not to get emotional. “You saved my life, Alex.”
“No. You saved your life,” he said with a smile. “Because you’re totally badass.”
I laughed. We both sighed then and sat back against George, looking up at the clear blue sky as the oncoming day breathed new life into us.
“Do you think it really was George?” he asked.
“The green birds?” I said, looking to see if they were still nearby. “No. But then also I think yes. Because who knows?”
“Right,” he said. “Who are we to say it either is or isn’t?”
“I concur.” I gave a very Plain-like nod of the head. “I mean, if I can change into a wolf, why shouldn’t George and Mom be birds?”
Alex smiled. “You’re a pretty amazing wolf, Red.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You’re really…” He swallowed hard, clearing his throat. “You’re actually kinda beautiful.”
I sat back again, looking down at my bare, icy feet sticking out from under Sacha’s warm belly. “I haven’t seen myself yet.”
“When will you turn again?”
“Tonight, on the last vestiges of the moon’s power.”
Alex bit his lip, eyes narrowing. “Could I…?”
“You wanna come with me?” I asked, nodding. “Sure. Why not?”
Alex smiled, picking up my hand and holding it. “Thanks, Red.”
“For what?”
“For being here. For rescuing me. For being patient with me.”
I squeezed his hand, feeling a layer of sweat slick between our palms, my nerves making my heart race. “You’re my best friend, Alex. I’ll always be here for you.”
He nodded, his brow drawing in and making his face look sad. “Red?”
“Yeah.”
“Is it okay if I cry on your shoulder for a bit?”
I sighed sadly for him, turning my body in a little and letting him put his face down on my coat. “It’s all going to be okay, Alex. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” he said, his voice crackling. “I know.”
Part Four: Chapter Six
The Little Red Raven Girl
I charged down the stairs from my room and slammed into the tall man at our front door. “Theo!”
He laughed, hugging me tightly like a bear. “It’s good to see you too, Red.”
“It’s been so long.” I stood back and slapped his chest playfully. “Why has it been so long?”
“I’ve been busy.” Theo stepped aside then and brought forward a fuller looking Katy, with bright rosy cheeks, a chubbier face, and a small round belly.
I screamed, and she screamed too, and we both jumped up and down, hugging.
“I’ve missed you so much!” I squealed.
“Me too,” she said, and even her voice sounded different. It wasn’t as timid, as if every word she spoke held the confidence of the female alpha. The queen. The mom-to-be!
“Aw, look at you.” I leaned back a bit to see her belly beneath her pretty pink top. Modern pink top.
“How far along are you?” Mom asked, stepping aside purposefully, as if to hint that I should back off and let them get in the door before imposing the full inquisition.
“Twenty weeks,” she said, making an eye at Theo.
“Oh, right. I almost forgot,” he said, angling his shoulder to his car. He waved his hand then and the door opened. “We’ve brought a visitor, if that’s okay with you, Mrs. Redwood?”
Mom said it was, of course, more than fine.
I didn’t recognize her at first, her hair short now and dyed black, but when she turned back and then stepped out of the car with a baby in her arms, my stomach leapt up into my throat.
“Anne!”
“Red!” She put her arm out as I ran in to hug her. My speed and over-excitement scared the baby a little and she cried, clinging to her mother.
Red: The Untold Story Page 27
