by Jason Starr
“Where do I press?” Simon asked, embarrassed, wanting to get this over with as soon as possible.
The guy showed him where the button was, and Simon took a shot of the happy, smiling couple posing with the buildings of Central Park West, including the Dakota, above the trees in the backdrop.
“Perfect,” Simon said.
“Thank you very much,” the man said, wincing again as he took his camera back.
“Yes, thank you,” the woman said.
Simon noticed the woman was wearing a small, shiny diamond ring. They were probably newlyweds, on their honeymoon in New York. As they walked away, giggling and holding hands, obviously in love, Simon remembered how he and Alison—back when things were good—would take long walks in the park, holding hands, never running out of things to talk about. She still hadn’t responded to the text he’d sent yesterday. The image of her wielding the knife was still fresh in his mind and, though he wanted to go home, he knew going back now would probably be a bad idea, especially if it caused another scene in front of Jeremy. Besides, he knew he couldn’t trust himself around his family, not until he somehow got hold of the remedy Volker had mentioned. While much of Volker’s story about Nazis and werewolves had seemed bizarre, given what Simon had experienced himself and how similar it was to most of what Volker had described, he had no reason to doubt any of it. If Michael had invented a beer that could turn men into werewolves, why couldn’t there be another beer that could turn them back?
There was a public bathroom, Simon remembered, adjacent to the Boat House restaurant, on the other side of the lake. A few minutes later, Simon arrived there. At the early hour, the restaurant was closed, but there were a few homeless guys in the restroom—two were washing up in the sinks, and the other was sprawled, asleep, next to a urinal. All the men had very pungent, very distinctive scents. Simon waited until one of the guys was through at the sink, then took his turn, splashing water on his face and then bending over and dousing his whole head.
“Man, you stink,” one of the homeless guys said to him.
Simon knew if this guy told him he smelled, then he must really stink. In addition to his stench, the T-shirt he was wearing was torn at the seams, thanks to his transformation, and his sneakers had holes in them from where his clawed feet had poked through. Feeling his hairy face, he knew he needed a shave desperately. He hadn’t shaved since yesterday morning and had the equivalent of what used to be a week’s growth of facial hair.
He took off his shirt, noticing that his chest was very hairy as well, and splashed water over his armpits and then rinsed the shirt and wrung it out the best he could. Then, wearing the damp shirt, he left the bathroom, wondering, How has my life come down to this?
He took out his cell and texted Charlie:
OK, I’m ready to meet you guys
Less than a minute later he got:
Awesome. Come to the playground.
Simon was typing a text to ask what time when he got:
@10
It was seven twenty-eight now, which gave Simon plenty of time. He would have loved to go to an H&M or wherever and get some new clothes, but stores probably wouldn’t open till ten or eleven. Besides, he had a more pressing need—to eat meat.
He exited the park at West Seventy-second and frustratingly couldn’t find a place with any decent meat—there were just coffee shops and bakeries filled with carbs. Carbs. How could anybody want carbs? Simon had no idea how he used to have a scone or muffin for breakfast and feel satisfied.
Heading straight, toward Broadway, he passed a newsstand—the Post and News both had pics of Charlie crossing the finish line of the marathon on their front pages. The News headline was BLAZING FAST and the Post’s was ON FIRE. Simon shook his head but was too hungry to stop and read either of the articles.
Finally, he found a diner. He went in and sat at a booth, planning to order a big plateful of bacon and sausage. He must’ve really built up an appetite from running around as a werewolf last night because the odor of the mingled meats was so intense Simon had to resist an urge to barge into the kitchen and gobble up whatever meat he could find.
Then an older, gray-haired Greek guy came over and said, “Sorry, you’re gonna have to leave.”
“What?” Simon was confused.
“Come on, out of here,” the guy said.
Simon didn’t understand what was going on until he noticed that the guy was wincing the way the Italian couple had been wincing. He realized that what with his partially ripped, wet T-shirt, overgrown facial hair, and reeking body odor he probably seemed like some crazy homeless guy.
“Oh, no, you don’t understand,” Simon said, trying overly hard to enunciate his words as a lame attempt to prove that he wasn’t some kind of bum or drug addict, that he was actually educated and together. “I live in the neighborhood. Well, uptown. Not too far uptown, on Columbus and Eighty-ninth.”
“You gotta go,” the guy said.
“Wait, look.” Simon took out his wallet and showed he had credit cards and cash. “I can afford to buy food here. You have to serve me.”
“I don’t have to serve nobody I don’t wanna serve,” the guy said. “Now get the hell outta my diner before I call the cops.”
Simon was going to insist on being served, but he was afraid if he got too angry he might turn into a werewolf. So he left the diner and went into a deli, to the first meat he saw—beef jerky—and bought two big handfuls, charging whatever it cost on his Amex. Then, resting on a bench in Verdi Square, near Seventy-second and Broadway, he tore into the jerky sticks, engulfing them almost as fast as he could open the wrappers. He was completely absorbed in eating—he had fifteen or twenty of them—and then noticed a woman passing by with her daughter, maybe ten years old. The daughter was staring at him, and then her mother noticed and pulled her along. When they were farther ahead the woman assumed they were out of earshot and whispered to her daughter:
“Never stare at crazy people, sweetie.”
As Simon continued to swallow partially chewed pieces of the jerky, he decided there was one thing that Volker was wrong about—being a werewolf wasn’t a gift.
It definitely wasn’t a gift.
A little before ten, approaching the playground in Battery Park, Simon was missing Jeremy terribly. Although he hadn’t been a stay-at-home dad for a very long time, he’d gotten used to the routine of being with his son every day, and it felt especially weird to be at a playground alone, as if he were going to a party he hadn’t been invited to. The joyous sounds of other kids’ laughing and screaming only made Simon feel more out of place.
Then, among all the other strong scents in the area—people, dogs, mulch, rotting garbage—he could smell Charlie, and was it Ramon? He looked toward the bench they usually sat on but didn’t see them there. Suddenly he had a buzz of anticipation, but he couldn’t tell if it was excitement about hanging out with Charlie and Ramon again, or fear of seeing Michael again.
“There’s my man,” Ramon said.
Simon turned to his right and saw Ramon and Charlie walking toward him, both smiling widely, pushing along their sons in baby carriages. Ramon was sharply dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt, and a black blazer. Charlie had cleaned up well since the marathon, in jeans and a tight white long-sleeve shirt accentuating his lean, muscular body. Looking at them, it was hard to believe they were living secret lives as werewolves. They looked like a couple of normal, good-looking dads out spending a beautiful fall morning with their sons in the park.
“Hey, it’s great to see you,” Simon said.
Simon couldn’t resist rushing up to Ramon and hugging him tightly. Ramon was hugging him back, and neither of them wanted to let go. Simon had forgotten how good this felt; he wanted the hug to last forever.
Then Charlie said, “What, I don’t get some too?”
Simon stopped hugging Ramon and hugged Charlie, saying, “Don’t worry, there’s enough to go around.”
After about thirty sec
onds, Simon ended the hug with Charlie, knelt down, and said to Ramon’s son, Diego, and Charlie’s son, Nicky, “And how about you two little guys? How’re you doing?”
“Good,” Diego said, but Nicky looked away shyly.
“Good is good,” Simon said. “Good is better than bad, anyway.”
Seeing the other kids made Simon miss Jeremy again.
As if reading his mind, Ramon asked, “Where’s your little man at?”
“Oh, um, he’s with his mom today,” Simon said.
“So you came down here just to see us?”
“Yeah,” Simon said. “Actually.”
“That’s cool,” Ramon said. “You’re makin’ me feel so special.”
“Can we get out, Daddy?” Diego asked Ramon.
“Yeah, I wanna go uppy,” Nicky said to Charlie.
Ramon and Charlie unstrapped their kids, who then ran off to play. Then the three men went into the playground—getting admiring, even lustful, looks from practically every mom and babysitter—and sat on their usual bench. Simon breathed deeply but didn’t smell Michael.
“Looks like somebody was wolfin’ out last night,” Ramon said to Simon.
Simon wasn’t sure why Ramon said this, but then realized it had to do with the torn shirt.
“Oh, yeah.” Simon looked at Charlie. “I think you forgot to mention something about that to me.”
“Sorry about that, bro,” Charlie said. “I wasn’t allowed to, but I did invite you to come to the brewery.”
Simon didn’t know what I wasn’t allowed to meant but assumed it had to do with Michael being the leader of their pack.
Simon wanted to be angry at Charlie, but it was hard when Charlie was such a nice guy.
“Whatever,” Simon said. “I avoided disaster last night anyway.”
“Where’d you hang out?” Ramon asked.
“Central Park,” Simon said.
“Cool.” Ramon was excited. “Bein’ in the trees and woods, damn, that must’ve been awesome.”
Simon remembered how amazing it had felt, running with Volker as a wolf.
“Yeah, it was definitely an experience,” Simon said.
“Maybe next full moon you can hang out with us,” Ramon said.
Thinking that in a perfect world, by the next full moon Michael would be dead and they’d all be human again, Simon said, “Sounds like a plan.”
“Or maybe we can all run together in the park,” Ramon said, “or up at Michael’s house.”
“Michael’s house?” Simon asked.
Ramon looked at Charlie, as if wondering if he’d said something he wasn’t supposed to say. Charlie shrugged.
Then Ramon said to Simon, “Yeah, he has a summer house. Upstate, but not too far up, like an hour and a half outside the city.”
Simon couldn’t deny that running as a wolf in the woods had to be the ultimate experience, but why hadn’t Volker mentioned that Michael had a house upstate?
“Have you guys been up there yet?” Simon asked.
Ramon said, “Nah, not—” and then Charlie cut him off with, “Michael said we’re not ready to go up there yet. But when the time’s right we’re definitely gonna let him take us.”
“Yeah, well, that sounds like it’ll be a lot of fun,” Simon said.
Ramon suddenly appeared very serious, which was unusual, because he usually had a wide, engaging smile. He asked, “So why’d you come back here anyway?”
Simon had prepared an answer for this. He said, “Last night taught me a lesson, I guess. I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”
Ramon absorbed this, then put an arm around Simon and said, “Well, you’re not alone anymore, man. Stick with us, all your problems’ll be solved.”
“Yeah,” Charlie said, also putting an arm around Simon.
It felt good to be sandwiched between the two guys, breathing in their warm, familiar scents. He noticed some women in the playground staring at them, but he couldn’t tell if it was because they noticed or sensed there was something unusual about the three guys with their arms around one another, or if they were just uncontrollably attracted.
Ramon said to Simon, “So I heard you were having some problems downstairs.”
“Downstairs?” Simon asked.
“You know,” Charlie said. “Your problems in bed.”
“It’s not a problem,” Simon said. “Everything’s working fine down there; too fine, if you know what I mean.”
“Oh yeah, we know,” Charlie said.
“No, I meant I heard you been wolfin’ out.”
“I almost … wolfed out.” Simon felt funny saying that. “I mean I had a few close calls, so I’ve been avoiding intimacy.”
“Hang with us, all your worries’ll go away,” Ramon said. “Before you know it, your only problem’ll be you’ll be wantin’ it too much.”
“Yeah, so how is this gonna happen?” Simon asked. “Is there another beer or something I’m supposed to drink?”
Simon was hoping Ramon or Charlie would give away some info about the remedy beer.
“Nah,” Charlie said. “It’s more like a, you know, behavioral type thing.”
“Yeah, and trust me,” Ramon said, “when the floodgates open you won’t know what hit you. I mean, check it out, right now, all these women here in this playground, they want our bodies. Even the old ladies can’t resist us.”
Simon noticed a woman with a walker, probably eighty-five years old, who was taking a rest on a bench across from them, staring at the guys like they were slabs of meat on a rack.
“I could get any of these women I want,” Ramon said. “I know, I used to be the same, but it was never like this. Before, I had to work it. I had to have the right look, right clothes, say what they wanted to hear, but now, forget about it, bro, now it all just happens naturally. I get women proposing to me every day, like I’m, I don’t know, Derek Jeter or something. You think that happened to me before I got bitten? When I was just an unemployed actor living with my mother in el barrio?”
At the other end of the playground, a very attractive young blond woman, probably a babysitter, was giving Simon a come-hither look.
“I’ve definitely been experiencing that part of it,” Simon said.
“But you know what the funny thing is?” Ramon asked. “When you can get anything you want, know what happens? You don’t want it anymore. You want one thing, one solid thing you can hold on to forever. And that’s what happened to me last night.”
“Oh no, here we go,” Charlie said.
Ignoring Charlie, Ramon said to Simon, “She was like an angel that dropped from the sky and showed up at my doorstep. She had the silkiest black hair I’d ever seen, and when I looked in her eyes I wanted to get lost in them and stay lost forever.”
“We’ve only heard that a gazillion times before,” Charlie said.
“Last night was different,” Ramon said. “Last night was the real deal. Last night I fell in love for eternity. And want to know the funny thing? She’s a cop.”
“A cop?” Simon hoped he was joking.
“Yeah, you believe it?” Ramon said. “I’ve met so many beautiful women in my lifetime, but I never would’ve thought the one I would want to be with forever would be a cop. But, yeah, Geri’s the one for me.”
A cop? Geri? A sickening feeling was building in Simon’s gut.
“Wait,” Simon said. “Her last name isn’t Rodriguez, is it?”
“Yeah,” Ramon said. “She talked to you too?”
Simon’s throat was closing up. Well, not really, but that was what it felt like.
“You okay, bro?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah, I know her,” Simon said to Ramon. “She was the detective who questioned me when my boss was killed in New Jersey.”
“Oh yeah, that makes sense,” Ramon said. “She might come talk to you again, so just be ready.”
Now Simon had full-blown nausea. Suddenly he didn’t feel comfortable with Ramon and Charlie’s arms around hi
m. He felt trapped between them, and their arms were like clamps, locking him in.
“Is that how you met her? She questioned you?”
“Yeah,” Ramon said. “Don’t worry, nothin’ to do with your boss. My ex-girlfriend Diane was shot and killed in Michigan.”
Simon knew Diane. She was a friend of Olivia, the woman/ werewolf Simon had killed. Simon had warned Diane to leave New York because she knew too much about Michael and the pack, but apparently someone had found her.
