by K. R. Smith
Just as my blurred vision started to come into focus, I realized that I was staring at Declan. My worst enemy was staring right back, which gave me a jolt in surprise. I was looking directly into his bright blue eyes which made me embarrassedly look away.
Frickin’ hell, if he wasn’t the worst person in the world I could have been staring at? Attila the Hun would have come a close second. But when I had to look away from the pyre again, I found myself gazing his way once more.
Declan was still staring in my direction, or was he glaring? He was wearing his traditional scowl with his hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets, as he stood beside his mother and brother. He didn’t look away either. Declan didn’t seem to care if anybody noticed who he was looking at or scowling at, rather.
Isn’t this just great? So far my only two options are to stare at a dead guy on fire, or the rudest boy in the tribe. I gave up on looking at either, as I closed my eyes and turned to bury my face into my father’s arm. I think Dad must have thought I was overwrought with grief, as he next kissed the top of my head and squeezed my hand tighter.
As the Tribal Elders sang, I used this opportunity of self-imposed privacy to think about Uncle Jack. I remember him coming to my house a couple of times, to talk about pack business with my father. The two would leave the house and go stand at the end of the driveway to talk privately. Sometimes Uncle Ian as well as Ian’s younger brother Grant, would be with them for these conversations since they were members of the pack too.
I remembered how Uncle Jack was devoted to his wife and family just as all of the Lokoti Werewolves were. Uncle Jack and his wife were something like 70 years old; but because he was a Werewolf he aged slower than his human mate. It looked kind of funny seeing them together about the community, at how this man who appeared in his forties held hands with an elderly woman, or even when they kissed. As was customary with Lokoti Werewolves and their ‘mate for life’ policy; they in no way looked on their wives with any less love. When their mates died of old age, they mourned them deeply. It became the custom that Lokoti Werewolves didn’t take another mate after the death of their first.
Opening my eyes again, I looked on the elderly Aunt Meg who was being comforted by her grown children. Poor Aunt Meg, I guess she and Uncle Jack had always expected that he would outlive her. As I looked on his surviving family, I started to realize something else… What was usually the way, the eldest son’s Lokoti Werewolf gene would be activated upon the death of their father or grandfather. But the typical age bracket for a change to take place was between 10 – 25 years old. Uncle Jack’s son was 30 years old, so he was too old for the change and his son whom was 9 years old was too young.
Hmm, I wondered who else could be activated instead? I guess I’d find out on the next full moon, when a human Lokoti changed to become the fifteenth member of the pack. As my eyes started to scan the other male members of the tribe between 10 – 25 years old my gaze met Declan’s once more.
He was still glaring at me for some strange reason. It was seriously starting to make me feel VERY uncomfortable. I shot a scowl back his way, before I concentrated on staring at the tips of the flames, as they danced in the evening sky.
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7th September 2084
Last night I went with Mum and Dad to dinner at Gran, Grandfather’s and Great Grandma’s house.
They lived in the old Riverclaw family home which looked like a huge log cabin. Uncle Julian lived with Aunt Danika and their children in another house built at the bottom of the hill. Mum, Dad and I lived in a house which had been in Dad’s family for several generations. All four of our houses along with Grandpa and Nana who were Dad’s parents, were situated on the same road on the forest encrusted hill.
Their house was just slightly down from ours and was a seven minute walk. But Dad and his Lokoti Werewolf overprotectiveness, we still ended up driving there for a whole two minutes, including the time it took to reverse out of our driveway and into theirs.
As we pulled up, we saw Uncle Julian’s four-wheel-drive before us in the driveway which meant he, Aunt Danika and my cousins Phoenix and Phoebe were here. When we went inside, I also found Grandpa and Nana were here too.
“B!” My father’s parents were the first to greet. I rushed into their awaiting arms to receive numerous kisses.
Nana cupped my face as she examined me closely. “You’re looking taller every day! You’re even bigger than me now!”
I smiled in good humor on my slightly shorter, Chinese-American Nana when Grandpa distracted me by pulling me into another embrace.
“Bianca Grace, I swear you are looking a little taller and since I’m the tribe’s Medicine Man my diagnosis is usually right.” Then my Lokoti Grandpa affectionately messed up my hair.
“Grandpa!” I complained as I pulled away from his roughing-up.
“Fern, stop it!” Nana joking chastised. “Don’t you know that hair is very important to a young woman?”
“My bad, sorry Ling.” He smiled in good humor as he apologized to his mate before he tweaked my nose. “Sorry B.”
I giggled back as I was next pulled away from Grandpa’s arms and into my Uncle Julian’s.
“B!” He boomed. “You little heart-breaker! What’s this rumor I heard that you and Derik Sabre are engaged?”
Uncle Jules was doing his typical ribbing, but my parents didn’t look like they appreciated that particular joke.
“Shut up Uncle Julian!” I poked him in the side.
“Give her a break, Jules!” Mum glared at her twin brother. “She’s not even 18 years old.”
“But that didn’t stop Hunter.” He laughed as he nudged my father.
Dad threw him a warning look when I was pulled into my fourth embrace so far with Aunt Danika. She was also English and she had pale skin, brown eyes and dark brown hair. She and Mum were actually third cousins. I guess that was the type-set for my family, we either had blue eyes or brown.
“B!” She kissed both of my cheeks in the French style as her great grandmother had been this nationality as well as a telepath.
It was thanks to her great grandmother that she was bilingual as well as a mind-reader. Belle Dupont met my great, great grandmother, Elisha Worthall when she researched ESP for SSIT – Supernatural Scientific Investigative Team. Belle married Xavier Bell, her work associate who ran SSIT with her. Ironically, their daughter later married Elisha’s son, Bastian Worthall. However she had more in common with Elisha than marriage; all of their supernatural abilities were carried on genetically. Now with Aunt Danika’s marriage to a Lokoti Werewolf, their daughter was a mind-reader like her mother and their son was destined to join the pack.
“Bonjour Aunt Danika.” I greeted.
“Bonjour madamemoiselle Bianca.” She returned. “Comment allez-vous?”
“Bien.” I managed to remember the reply.
My 12 year old cousin Phoebe next looked up from her drawings as she sat at our grandparent’s dining table.
“Salut!” She gave a little wave.
“Bonjour petite belle.” I walked forwards to plant an affectionate kiss on top of her head.
I hope I just said, ‘hello little beauty’ otherwise I could be in trouble. But as I saw Aunt Danika next fall into a catch-up with my Mum, I assumed I was in the all-clear.
“Hi bitch-features.” Phoenix said casually, as he didn’t look up from his homework he had brought.
Ah yes… here was Phoebe’s 14 year old brother. Our relationship was an affectionate enmity which was similar to sibling rivalry. If I had been standing any closer I would have whacked him and given him ‘what for’ with his use of language. But then I didn’t have to.
“Phoenix!” Grandfather growled at his grandson as he came out of the kitchen to lightly punch him on the arm as a warning.
“Oow!” Phoenix instantly complained as he rubbed the spot where his fist had landed.
“Grandfather.” I smiled
as I walked into yet another embrace.
“B.” He squeezed me affectionately. “How are you?”
“Good thanks.” I answered before I pulled away to walk into one last hug.
“B.” Gran rubbed my back as she held me firmly. “How is the ‘Last Circulator’?”
“I still can’t phase.” I sighed as I looked on defeated. “I swear it just isn’t gonna happen Gran.”
“Of course it’s going to happen!” She spoke in her English accent which could sound very crisp sometimes. “You’re the ‘Last Circulator’. You certainly wouldn’t be called that if you couldn’t very well circulate, would you?”
It was thanks to our international ties, we were some of the few families in the tribe to call our mother’s ‘Mum’ instead of the American custom, ‘Mom’. Gran’s English accent remained constant, but sometimes she could slip into Australian slang as her grandmother had been this nationality. Elisha had married the English Jarrod Worthall, who had been the Lord of Blythe Castle.
“Mom, B’s here.” Grandfather turned his head to speak to Great Grandma who was busy cooking in the kitchen.
Great Grandma now came out of her favoured domain to give a smile and a kiss on the cheek before doing the same to Mum and Dad. She didn’t talk much and she was one of these old-fashioned types who never complained. She just did what had to be done and she knew what her strength was, her wonderful cooking. Great Grandma’s recipes were renown through out our tribe, in particular her gravy recipe.
She was full-blooded Lokoti and her deceased husband had been a Lokoti Werewolf whom died in saving Grandfather’s life when he was a boy. Great Grandfather was run over by a Logging Truck which from the size of the vehicle, not even a supernatural creature such as the Lokoti Werewolf could survive. After his demise Grandfather took his father’s place among the pack. It was also because of this Grandfather and his mother were close. When my grandparents married, Gran simply moved in them and the family welcomed her with open-arms.
I looked past my grandparents who were standing in the kitchen entranceway; at the food that was in mid-preparation sitting on top of the kitchen bench. “What’s for dinner?”
“Roast caribou and vegetables.” Grandfather answered.
“And Great Grandma’s special gravy?” I asked hopeful.
“Of course.” He smiled with a twinkle in his eye.
Then I stood back to let them greet my parents. Grandfather kissed his daughter on the cheek but when he shook Dad’s hand, he mouthed the words; “we need to talk.” My father looked from him to Uncle Julian and Grandpa, as he immediately guessed it was about ‘pack business’ then he nodded.
“Excuse us.” Grandfather now turned to the rest of the room. “We just have to duck outside for a moment but we’ll be right back.”
He led the way with Grandpa walking a close second and then Dad and Uncle Julian behind, as they departed via the front door. I noticed how the older women didn’t look surprised by their sudden exit.
Once they were gone, Aunt Danika whom could read the men’s minds, said; “it’s about Jack’s death and the bad element brewing in Alma.”
“I thought so.” Mum frowned. “Hunter said that the Tribal Elders had been considering the town’s representatives request to move the bad element on.”
“I guess Jack’s death only confirmed their decision.” Gran sighed.
However Great Grandma redirected the conversation to protect the Werewolves private talk. The elderly woman looked on my youthful grandmother. “Arabella, can you please check on the bread rolls in the oven? Danika, can you please help me shell the peas? Jess, you can cut up the pumpkin.”
“And me, Clara?” Nana stepped forward to volunteer her services.
“Ling, can you please peel the potatoes?” Great Grandma requested.
Next, I moved out of the way as all of the older women streamed into the kitchen to busy themselves with matters other than worrying about their husbands playing law keepers.
“Ha ha!” Phoenix teased. “Women belong in the kitchen.”
“Phoenix!” Aunt Danika barked at her son. “You can set the table thank you very much!”
“D’oh!” He complained ‘Homer Simpson’ style.
“Ha ha!” I pointed at him .
Since Phoebe had to tidy up her drawings so Phoenix could set the table for dinner, I took her outside to sit on the veranda steps with me. I also brought her as I had a secret agenda and she knew this, as she was used to me ‘borrowing’ her telepathic abilities now and then.
We looked out at the woods that surrounded the house as we pretended to talk about something when really we were eavesdropping. The male Werewolves were standing at the end of the driveway and talking quietly, well outside our hearing range. Phoebe and I deliberately didn’t look their way as we whispered.
“So, what’s up?” I prompted my little cousin.
She frowned as she stared at a particular tree across the driveway, “they’re talking about fighting.”
“Fighting the bad element in Alma?” I queried as I too stared at the tree.
“Uh huh.”
“When is this going to be done?”
“Soon…they had been planning to wait until the next full moon when a new Werewolf turns to make the fifteenth member of the pack? But they decided that they can’t wait that long.” She whispered.
“Do they know who’s going to be activated?”
She shook her head, “they don’t know for sure but they think it’s gonna be Uncle Ian’s son, Leaf.”
“It makes sense.” I thought out loud. “He would be the right age.”
Just then she added on, “oh, they already removed half of the bad element the night that Uncle Jack died. They’re planning moving on the rest.”
“OK.” I purposefully kept my eyes averted. “How many bad people are they going to be sending away?”
“Um…” she frowned, “…I don’t know. They’re not thinking specific numbers.”
Suddenly we were interrupted by Aunt Danika walking out of the front door to give us a warning look.
“Phoebe,” she started, “what did I tell you about eavesdropping on deliberately private conversations?”
“I’m sorry Mummy but B asked me to.” She pouted.
Aunt Danika held open the door and motioned us to come inside. Before I disappeared into the house, I looked over at Dad standing in the distance. I saw him frown when he saw what my Aunt was doing. Frickin’ hell, I’m probably in for a ‘what for’ now.
A couple of minutes later he, Grandpa, Grandfather and Uncle Julian returned to the house. As Grandfather went into the kitchen to help his wife and mother with the cooking; Dad walked over to where I was sitting on the couch with Phoebe and he didn’t look happy.
“You and I are going to have a conversation when we get home, at how it’s not only rude to eavesdrop but how it can be for safety reasons as well.” He said gruffly.
Then I watched him go and stand with Grandpa and Nana.
“Frickin’ hell.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m gonna get it now.”
“Yeah well, at least you’re older than I am.” Phoebe said annoyed. “You’re old enough to leave home if you wanted to. I’m gonna get it much worse than you.”
Hmm… leave home? That notion reminded me of what I had wanted to discuss with my family tonight. I wondered what the reaction would be to the idea of me going away to study History at Cambridge University? Would my parents or my grandparents object?
Phoebe’s mouth fell open as she stared in surprise, having just read my thoughts.
“Shhh!” I hissed at her. “I’ll ask them over dinner so don’t say a thing!”
“Oh, now you want me to be quiet?!” She stood up in a huff before she flounced off to go and be picked up by her father. Uncle Jules readily did as he put her on his back whilst he talked to the other adults.
I’ll give it to Phoebe, even though she was probably in just as much trouble as I was over t
he ‘eavesdropping’ thing? She could certainly work the room. She was cute and she knew it and all she had to do was give her father or grandfather a certain kind of look and they would scoop her up into their arms whether they were angry or not.
Twenty minutes later, everyone sat down to a set table that was laden with food. A huge haunch of roast caribou sat at the head of the table as several dishes followed, full of home-grown vegetables or bread rolls and of course, there were two large gravy boats for Great Grandma’s special gravy.
Grandfather sat at the head of the table with Great Grandma sitting on the other end and the rest sat in between. As he busied himself with carving up the meat, we all took turns to serving ourselves with vegetables or bread rolls. I broke open my roll before I reached for the butter when I soon found, Phoebe wasn’t just good at divulging people’s secrets to me but she was also good with sharing out mine too.
“Where’s Cambridge University?” She asked her father.
“Cambridge University?” Uncle Julian echoed. “Well it’s in Cambridge, in England.”
“Hence the name, Cambridge University.” Phoenix snickered.
“It’s where many of your ancestors studied.” Grandfather explained. “Like Elisha Worthall, Xavier Bell as well as Jarrod and Bastian Worthall.”
“Oh.” Phoebe pondered on his words then she looked my way.
Now everyone else looked my way too, suspecting that she asked this question as it was on my mind instead.
“Thanks Phoebe.” I rolled my eyes before I slightly changed the subject, “Mandy told me and then I saw it for myself on the internet today that Cambridge University is open again.”
“Yeah, Mum told me last week that Oxford has reopened too.” Aunt Danika added on. “As has Kings and a few other of the old private schools and colleges in the UK.”
“Why are you asking about Cambridge, B?” My grandmother asked.
“Didn’t you go to Cambridge, Gran?”
“No, I did my Environmental Economics degree at the University of London.” She answered. “Why, are you thinking of doing a degree?”
