by Jason Starr
In the elevator Alison said to Simon, “I’m warning you, if you start growling like a crazy person again, that’s it, I’m calling the cops.”
He was looking at her in a seductive way, as if something amused him and aroused him at the same time, and then he said, “I’ve missed you.”
She couldn’t help feeling a desire for him, though—she told herself—maybe it wasn’t actual desire, maybe it was just vulnerability because of how rough things had been lately. Maybe she had a need to connect with someone and wasn’t thinking it through clearly enough. Wasn’t that what had driven her to Vijay?
At the apartment, Alison made sure that Simon entered ahead of her and she was between him and the door.
Heading past the dining area toward the living room, he said, “Ah, it feels so great to be home.”
“Right here’s fine,” Alison said.
Simon stopped and turned back toward her.
“Okay,” he said, “we can do it here.”
She wasn’t crazy about the ambiguity of do it here. But while she was concerned about her safety, she also felt weirdly protected at the same time.
“So you said you’re going to tell me the truth about what’s been going on, so let’s hear it,” she said.
“Okay, well, I guess the main thing is I don’t have lycanthropic disorder,” Simon said.
Alison took a moment, as this wasn’t the direction she’d thought this conversation would go, then asked, “Then what disorder do you have?”
“I don’t have any disorder,” Simon said.
So this was what this was about? More games?
Suddenly angry, Alison said, “Look, I don’t see what this is accomplishing. If you have something productive, something new, to tell me, I’m all ears. But if you—”
“You don’t get it,” Simon said. “I don’t have a disorder where I think I’m a werewolf, because I’m actually a werewolf.”
Simon seemed excited, almost giddy about all this, as if he’d just made some incredible revelation.
“Why are you doing this to me?” Alison asked. “Why do you keep playing these sick, twisted games with me? What’re you getting out of it?”
“Because I want you to know the truth finally,” Simon said. “I want you to love me for who I am, the same way I decided that I have to love who I am. I mean, if I couldn’t love myself, I couldn’t expect you to love me, right?”
She thought, My husband’s insane. And he’s farther gone than I’d ever imagined.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she said. “I think you need help. Serious long-term help.”
Then his face became the face of an animal. His face was hairy and his nose and eyes looked like the eyes of a dog or, no, a wolf. This happened so quickly that at first her brain simply accepted it, as a fact. But then the panic and disbelief and a swarm of other emotions hit her with full force. No, no, this wasn’t possible. She was just imagining it. It was a fantasy, or hallucination, because of all the stress she’d been under lately.
She was shaking her head violently back and forth and heard herself whimper, “No … no…”
Then she saw that his face wasn’t all that had changed. His body had expanded, stretching his clothes, and his arms were hairier and had claws.
His arms have claws.
“N-n-n…” she said.
She closed her eyes, telling herself it wasn’t real, none of it was real. She was the one who had the disorder, she was the one going crazy.
But then she opened her eyes and saw the animal face staring back at her, and then everything went dark again.
Simon had expected Alison to have a strong reaction to the truth, but what could he do? He felt he couldn’t go on like this any longer, living a lie. If he was going to get his family back, he had to open up about everything, put it all on the table, and deal with the fallout.
After devouring Volker in the woods, Simon wasn’t sure what would happen next. The meal was pure pleasure, but when he transformed back into his human form the horror and disgust set in. How could he have done that to Volker of all people, the one person, or wolf, who wanted to help him? How could he keep rationalizing that his uncontrollable craving for blood and flesh wasn’t a part of him? How could he deny responsibility for the awful things he had done?
Simon was expecting Michael, and maybe Charlie, to attack him next. While Simon had felt bonded to Michael when he was a wolf and they were feasting on Volker’s flesh, as a human Simon didn’t feel any bond or loyalty to Michael at all, and Michael had to realize this. And after Michael had killed and eaten his own father, why would he spare Simon?
Simon was ready to defend himself, and fight to his death if he had to, but Michael seemed disinterested. Maybe he was satiated from his meal and had lost the urge to kill Simon, or maybe he had another agenda. One thing Simon had learned over the past month or so—trying to figure out Michael’s agenda was pointless, as his actions rarely seemed to make any sense, or at least any sense to a rational human being.
Eddie, who apparently was a jack-of-all-trades—driver, hit man, body disposer—was hard at work, digging a hole in the woods. After he shoveled Volker’s remains in and filled the hole back up with dirt he returned to the car with Michael, Charlie, and Simon in tow.
Simon’s guard was still way up, as he was still expecting a surprise transformation and attack from Michael, but the four men got into the car, as if it were a normal evening and they were on their way home from an outing together, like a sporting event. In the car there was even some small talk from Charlie and Michael—mostly Charlie—about play dates, and times they would get together over the next week or so. The only indication of the horror that had just taken place in the woods was the lingering odor of Volker’s blood on their breath and blood in their hair and on their skin and partially torn clothing.
When they arrived in the city, it was clear that they were bypassing Manhattan.
“Um, so where’re we going?” Simon spoke his first words since the mauling of Volker.
“The brewery,” Charlie said. “We gotta change.”
This made some sense to Simon, but he still feared a hidden agenda. Maybe he was going to be ambushed in the brewery, consumed there the way Stephen Tyler, that PI, had been.
Simon’s fear was at its peak when they were all walking up the dark stairwell, but no attack came. They went right to the room with the shower and took turns washing up. Michael collected their bloodied clothes in a Hefty bag, and then they selected new snazzy outfits. Feeling healthy and spiffy, Simon left the brewery with Charlie.
Michael, who’d walked them down, said to Simon, “You will return soon.”
Simon didn’t answer.
Eddie was waiting with the SUV—the seats had been cleaned and now there was only a very faint odor of blood—and drove Charlie and Simon back to Charlie’s place in Manhattan.
It was still dark out and the moon had almost set. It was hard to believe that only four hours had gone by since Simon and Charlie had been picked up and taken to the woods upstate. Despite the horror of what he’d done to Volker tonight, Simon felt like he’d taken a giant leap toward if not resolving his situation, then at least learning to cope with it. He understood what Volker had been trying to tell him in the Ramble that morning: that he was at the mercy of his cravings and he would have to embrace the animal part of himself if he wanted to have any chance to survive. Already he’d learned how to transform faster, and he was confident that he would become even better at detecting scents, and maybe he’d be able to hide his wolf scent from others the way Michael could. Maybe, if he worked on it, he could even have sex again without fear that he would “wolf out” in the middle of it.
Charlie left for work, to resume his shift at the firehouse downtown, and Simon rested on the couch. Finally dawn came. Despite the eventful night, Simon was alert and, for the first time in ages, excited about the future. Even if he could never find the remedy, he was confident tha
t he could learn how to fully assimilate as a wolf in a world with humans. As time went on, he’d be able to understand his cravings and learn how to control them, and if he continued to gain control of his wolf powers he could keep Michael under control, or kill him if necessary. But mostly he was excited because learning how to control his cravings meant that there was a chance he could get his human life back, and he could be a husband and a father again.
Simon was giddy the rest of the day. Not only could being honest about what had happened to him repair his relationship with his family, it would also relieve a tremendous burden on himself. There was nothing more stressful than keeping a secret, and he was eager to let go of it.
But now, after he transformed back into his human form and knelt down, tending to Alison’s unconscious body, he knew that with honesty there was always risk. All he could do was show her who he was, and try to explain, but he couldn’t control her reaction. He hoped that she would be willing to give him a chance, to have an open mind about what she’d just seen, and accept him for who he was, and help him through it, but there was also a major chance that their relationship had become too damaged and that she’d have the opposite reaction. She might freak out, reject him, scream like a maniac, run for her life.
Simon knew that her initial reaction after she regained consciousness would be crucial, so he didn’t give her a chance to have one.
As her eyes opened he moved in very close to her and, in the most reassuring voice he could muster up, said, “It’s okay. Shh, shh, it’s okay.”
She looked panicked, as if she were about to lose it. He put a hand over her mouth.
“Please, just give me a chance,” he said. “I know you’re scared, you must be terrified right now, and that’s okay, but I promise you, I’m not going to hurt you, I’m never going to hurt you in any way ever again. I had to be honest, that’s all. I had to show you who I am now—well, who I am part of the time. I had to let you in on what I’ve been going through all these weeks, because I love you and I don’t want to lose you. And I know it’s going to take time for you to understand, for you to accept, to comprehend all this, but that’s okay. It took me time too, and there’re still times I can’t believe it’s really happening. But it is happening—werewolves exist.”
She shuddered.
“I know,” he said. “If you’re scared, how do you think I felt? I’ve been tortured, dealing with this alone. I was terrified, afraid I was going to die or kill somebody, but there’re some wonderful things about it too. Wait till you see the things I’m capable of; you won’t believe it. But I get it, okay? I know it’s a process. It took me time to accept it too; I’m still learning about it, and I’m not expecting any miracles here. I’m just asking you to be open, for you to give me a chance to explain to you what’s been going on in my life. Can you do that? Can you try to do that?”
There was still terror in Alison’s eyes. She was shaking.
“Okay, okay, I understand, I understand,” Simon said. “I know this is a lot for you to take in at once. Believe me, I know. But the main thing is, as you saw, I don’t have a disorder. I just told you that, or let you believe it, because I didn’t want you to leave me. I thought I could figure out a way to deal with it, to get rid of it on my own, and now I think I have figured something out. It’s a learning process, but I don’t think I’m a danger to you or Jeremy anymore. This is just something I have to live with, like a disease. Yes, think of it as a disease, and we said we’d stay together in sickness and in health, right? Well, that’s how I need you to think of this—that I’m sick, but I’m getting better. There’s hope now. I might even find a remedy and become human again, but even if I can’t, I can survive. I can have a normal, happy, functional life, and I can go back to being a husband and a dad too. Those are the most important things—you and Jeremy.”
Alison was trying to speak, but her voice was faint, not even a whisper.
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you, sweetie,” Simon said.
Continuing to shake, she tried to speak, and finally got out: “J-J-Jeremy. I—I—I have to get Jeremy.”
“I know,” Simon said, “but maybe I can call Matthew’s and they can watch him awhile longer so you can rest.”
“No.” Alison sat up. “I—I have to go. I have to get Jeremy now.”
“Okay, that’s fine,” Simon said.
He knew he couldn’t keep her, that ultimately she’d have to make a choice.
He followed her to the door, saying, “I know you’re still afraid, and that’s okay, but I need you to think about two things. Think about the strength it took for me to tell you all this, to show you this. And think about the risk I’m taking. If you run to the police my life’ll be ruined, and your life will be too. You know what kind of media event it would be if a real live werewolf were discovered in Manhattan? And it would have consequences for you as well—you’ll be known as the wife of a werewolf. And what about Jeremy? Think about the effect it would have on him if this went public. So, please, just give me a couple of days to prove to you that I have a handle on this now. A couple of days, that’s all I’m asking for.”
At the door, Alison, still shaking, but not as badly, turned and looked right at Simon. She looked terrified and wasn’t blinking at all. Then she rushed out of the apartment.
Well, Simon knew it was out of his hands now. He’d done what he’d felt he had to do, and he had no regrets. If she came back, he would work on his marriage and try to get his life back. If she went to the police, it meant he didn’t have much to live for anyway, so it was better to find out sooner than later. This was the way he was rationalizing it, anyway.
He waited, pacing back and forth. He expected that she’d gone to the police; why wouldn’t she? She’d just seen her estranged husband transform into a werewolf. What reason would she have to have any faith in him now?
He heard the elevator doors open. Maybe there was a SWAT team out there. They’d break down the door, arrest him, and his hellish future would commence.
But, wait, he only smelled Alison in the hallway, and…
Could it be true?
The door opened, and Alison and Jeremy entered. Jeremy’s face lit up when he saw Simon.
“Daddy!”
Jeremy’s excitement was priceless, and so was Simon’s.
Jeremy ran to Simon, and Simon lifted him up and hugged him tightly, determined that he would never, ever let go of him again.
While Simon was thrilled that Alison had returned with Jeremy, he knew he still had a long way to go before he fully regained her trust. But this wasn’t so uncommon. Every guy in a troubled marriage where a betrayal had taken place had to regain his wife’s trust before love could return. They were just dealing with what everybody else went through, on a much, much larger scale.
All in all, it was a pretty normal evening at home. The focus was on Jeremy, and Simon, so elated to be with his son again, wasn’t thinking about anything else. But after Simon put Jeremy to bed—Jeremy fell asleep during the second reading of Madeline—he joined Alison in the living room, where they had a long talk.
Alison, who still seemed traumatized, had a lot of questions about Simon’s condition, and he answered all of them as fully and honestly as he could. He explained how Volker and Michael were werewolves from Germany, but he didn’t tell her how long they’d lived, figuring it was important to dole out some of this information slowly. He did tell her how Michael had chosen four men to be in his pack, including him, and how it had all started the night Michael had given him a pint of his “family beer” and how it had caused physical and behavioral changes. This part of Simon’s story seemed to resonate with Alison as she realized that pieces of the puzzle that she’d been trying to put together in her head were finally fitting into place. Simon didn’t tell her much about the violence that had taken place, especially the violence he’d been involved with, figuring at this point that it would be way too much for her to handle.
Omitting al
l the violence, he summed up most of what had happened during the past, including how he had spent a night with Volker, who had told him about his history in Germany and about how he’d been learning to control his werewolf side, and how he was confident that going forward he would be able to avoid accidental transformations.
Alison absorbed most of what Simon had to say silently, only occasionally asking a question. When he was through, though, she said, “I don’t know what you expect me to say. I mean, what you’re saying sounds so bizarre, so insane, and yet I saw you. I saw you.”
She was quiet after that, looking away toward the windows and the view of the rooftops of tenements and the moon—not full—and Simon decided not to push it any further.
