by Willow Cross
Jason met her gaze for a moment. The muscles in his jaw clenched as he returned her scalding look with one of his own. Without saying a word, he sighed and lifted his chin in defiance. Stepping around her, he made his way up the stairs. He was starving, felt like hell, and was in no mood for her crazy logic. She wasn’t staying and that was all there was to it. End of argument.
Sarah followed behind. No one knew her brother like she did. Once he'd eaten and drank some coffee, he'd settle down and listen.
It felt strange to be cooking eggs and toast in her aunt’s quaint, sunny kitchen after what had transpired the night before. Jason slammed his fist against the table three times without uttering a word.
“Why don’t we just have the conversation instead of you making it up in your head?” she laughed. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”
“I don’t need to know what you’re going to say because you’re not staying. You're going to lock the cage and leave.”
“Quit griping and eat.” The plate clattered on the table sending a few small bits of scrambled egg flying as she dropped it in front of him.
They sat in complete silence for nearly twenty minutes while Jason drank his usual three cups of coffee. Seeing he was finally caffeinated and had calmed some, she broached the subject for what she hoped was the last time. “Okay, before you say anything else, or start yelling again, I want you to listen to what I have to say. First of all, yes, you are very dangerous when you’re in that…condition. But when the moon isn't shining in the window, you’re docile and sweet and seem to know exactly who I am. You listened to me and even tried to communicate.”
“Oh, my God. Sarah, it’s not a pet you can train. I know you’ve always wanted a dog, but this is ridiculous.”
“First off, you turn into a wolf, not a dog. I’m not a complete moron, and I didn’t say I could train you. I said you were reasonable and intelligent.”
Jason’s face turned pink as the muscles in his neck began ticking out an erratic rhythm.
“I think if you spend several nights caged with the moon shut out, you can learn to control it. I’m not talking about letting you out of the cage, Jase. I’m talking about giving you time to get control so you don’t have to spend three nights a month locked up.” He looked so sad and depressed, it nearly broke her heart. Sarah leaned forward and took his hand.
“I'm a monster. I killed people.” Jason‘s voice shook as his eyes pleaded with her to understand.
“You are not a monster. The other thing isn’t even a monster. Even changed, you are still Jason, just a really hairy version.”
It took thirty minutes to talk him into letting her stay and watch. She could hear Jason banging away in the basement making repairs to the cage. When the kitchen was tidy, she headed up to the attic to find their old video camera and do some research.
The stuffy attic smelled like must. Boxes were stacked and scattered over wooden planks that served as a floor. Neither of them had spent much time in the attic. Answers lay in those boxes. Answers to questions they were afraid to ask, although Jason would never admit it. Not that she had a lot of room to talk; she hadn’t wanted to look either.
Neither of them knew much about their ancestry. As children, they had been orphaned and placed in foster care. They were luckier than most, because they'd been able to stay together. When Jason turned sixteen, he found a job and started saving money. By the time he was eighteen, he’d saved enough to rent his own place and take his little sister with him. They lived in the tiny, two-room apartment for six months before receiving notification from the probate office that an elderly aunt had died and left them her home and assets. It was a huge shock because they’d never known they had any family. There was no information available to them about what had happened to their parents, or how they had ended up in foster care. Jason had vague memories of their parents, but Sarah had none. She was only two when they were placed in the first foster home.
The only information they had ever been given was a short cryptic letter written by the dead aunt. The message read:
Dear children,
Sorry I wasn’t around to help you. I didn’t have the time or energy. Sorry I won’t be around for what follows, you will figure out what to do. Know your parents loved you, and in leaving you this house, I hope I at least did my part. When the darkness comes, hide. It is all you can do.
That was it. No muss, no fuss, and it didn’t make much sense at all. Until now. Now Sarah wondered what kind of ‘darkness’ her aunt was talking about. If there was a clue, it could be in the attic. And if it was up there, she would find it.
As she rummaged through boxes and numerous old trunks, she found links to their past. Photo albums filled with pictures, several legal documents, even an old genealogy chart dating back to the fifteen hundreds. Glancing over it, she noticed the main part of her family had lived in Romania until the late eighteen hundreds. She sat it aside with the albums and two small boxes containing paperwork.
The heat of the day warmed the dust-filled room making it hard to breathe. Sweat oozed from her pores leaving trails of clean on her dirt-smudged face. As she continued working through the mass of boxes, an eerie silence settled in the small house. Sarah poked her head out of the small rectangular opening to the attic, and called, “Hey! What are you doing? Did you get everything done?”
Jason peeked around kitchen doorway. “No. I took a shower and now I’m making some sweet tea. Want some?”
“Took a shower? Holy crap, we don’t have time for that! You have things to take care of.”
“I’ll get them done, don’t worry. I’m thirsty. You want a glass or not?”
“Absolutely. It’s gross up here.”
“Well, come down. We’ve already been through a lot of that crap and didn’t find anything.”
Sweat dripped from the tip of her nose, landing on the fold down ladder with a plop. “We didn’t know what to look for then, we were just snooping.”
“You still don’t know what to look for. Come back down and get a drink.”
“I just have one more box to go through and I’ll be down.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, and his face disappeared behind the door.
Jason was seated on the living room sofa, staring out the picture window in a daze when Sarah crawled out of the attic. He looked defeated. “Hey, a little help here?” she asked. Arms loaded with picture albums and a few small boxes, she attempted to navigate the rickety ladder.
Jason jumped to his feet nearly smacking his head against the ceiling fan.
“I couldn’t find the camera; I don’t know where we put it.” She told him.
Reaching out, he pulled a mass of cobwebs from her rust colored ponytail. “It’s okay. I don’t see how it would help anyhow.”
She grimaced as he wiped the mess on his jeans. “Look, what happened was awful, but you didn’t know what you were doing. I don’t think anyone would be able to handle it without reacting in the same way.”
“What if I kill you? How am I supposed to live with myself then?”
“You’re not going to kill me. We’re going to figure this out and you’re going to get control of it. There’s no other option.”
Jason’s gaze became vacant as he stared off into space.
Sarah wiped the sweat from her face with the back of her sleeve, leaving a clean streak of honey colored skin. “Where’s my tea? I feel like I've been chewing on powdered cotton balls.”
He pointed to the coffee table.
She grabbed the glass and gulped it down. “Shew, I needed that.”
Before pulling old papers out of the boxes, she looked up at him expectantly. “Are you going to help, or stand there and watch?”
The couch creaked as Jason plopped on it.
Shaking her head, she handed him the old photo albums, and began leafing through a stack of papers. They worked quietly for several minutes. Sarah had finished ransacking one of the smaller boxes and was working
on another when she said, “Check this out. This looks important.”
Taking the age worn document in his hands, he glanced over it. “Whoa. This is a deed. And the place isn’t too far from here. I don't think it is anyhow. Why would it have our parent’s names on it? Something like this should’ve been listed through the courts.”
Sarah shrugged. “How do we find out?”
“We'll have to go to the title office and see if it's any good.” Still staring at the paper, Jason turned his head to the side. “Wait a minute; I think I know this place. Hand me the purple book.”
“This one?”
He pointed. “No that one, under the brown one.”
“Oh for Pete's sake. That's burgundy, Jase.” Pulling it from beneath the pile of albums, she handed it to him.
He thumbed through to a picture of a cabin in the woods. “I think this is it. When I saw this the first time, I thought it looked familiar. I think we used to live here.”
“We need to go there. There may be people still living around there that know us, or at least know our family,” Sarah replied.
Jason looked at the clock on the wall. “No time today.” It was nearing five o’clock and the sun would set around seven.
“Tomorrow then. I didn’t realize it was so late.” Standing, she began stacking the papers and albums in two neat piles. “I’m going to shower and get comfy for tonight. Did you take anything down there for me to sit on?”
“Sarah…please be reasonable. Don’t make me go through this. I don’t want to hurt you.” Gazing into her pale blue eyes, he knew there would be no changing her mind. She was determined to get herself killed and leave him to deal with it. Jason sighed in resignation before grumbling, “Fine, but I'm not springing for a funeral.”
She grinned and patted his arm. “Thank you. And you don't have to; you know I want to be cremated.”
Jason stiffened. “Whatever.”
She chuckled as she left to shower.
Shaking his head at her victorious attitude, he proceeded to make what he thought was her last night on earth comfortable.
When he returned from the basement, Sarah was standing at the kitchen counter with a large towel wrapped around her head. Humming, she swayed back and forth in rhythm to her tune while making a huge plate of sandwiches. The baggy sweats she wore made her petite frame seem even smaller. Without makeup on, she still looked fourteen. It's just like her to make sandwiches like we're having a picnic or something. Exhaling, he asked, “Company coming?”
Ignoring the sarcasm, she answered, “No, but I was starving last night and so were you. I’m going to throw some of these to you while we are working. Hey, take that pile of stuff down there and set it up for me, okay?”
“You’re seriously going to sit down there, eat bologna sandwiches and drink coffee while this is going on?”
“Yes.”
“Seriously?”
“We’re running out of time. Quit being a jerk and help.”
At 6:15, Jason was locked in his newly-refurbished cell, with Sarah standing at the door. Both of them were nervous, but Sarah refused let Jason see the anxiety she felt. With carefully calculated movements, she calmly strolled to the mattress and busied herself with looking through a picture album. A red thermos of hot coffee lay on the table next to her and she thought about pouring a cup, but didn’t think her nerves could handle a dose of caffeine just yet. She flipped to another page of unfamiliar faces while looking at her brother sideways. He paced back and forth, occasionally stopping to rattle the cage bars, or check the board he’d nailed over the window.
After a few moments, she couldn’t take it anymore. She stood and paced with him. He glanced at her but didn’t say anything. All he did was walk, walk, stop, rattle, walk, stop, tap, walk.
“Would you stop it? “
He flipped his head around. “What?”
She stared at him pointedly. “Doing that. Just take a breather.” She grabbed an old yellow blanket off the mattress and tossed it to him. “Here. Take your clothes off.”
“Why do I need to take my clothes off?”
“Those are your favorite jeans. If you stay dressed, we are going to have to buy you new clothes. You’re already going to miss three days of work and we are not even remotely rich. Now take off your clothes before they get ruined.”
When she felt his jeans smack into the back of her legs, she turned around. Although the situation wasn’t funny, she had to laugh. Seeing her brother behind bars, red faced, with a blanket wrapped around his waist was funnier than it should have been.
“Ha Ha Ha. Yeah, laugh it up little sister, it’s really freaking funny.”
She looked at the clock again, it was 6:45pm.
Jason sat on the chair she had insisted he put in the cage and waited for the change to begin.
Sarah, also seated, began showing him old photos from the albums. “Do any of these people look familiar to you?” she asked curiously.
He leaned closer while she turned the pages. “Wait. There.” He pointed to a pretty girl with flaming red hair and a friendly face. “She looks familiar. You know and something about her. Maybe bringing cookies or something.”
Turning the page, she gasped.
“What?”
She turned the album towards him. “Look at this. How weird is that? Do you think this is mom?”
Shrugging, he answered, “Could be. It must be mom at your age. Who else would look so much like you? She has the same pouty lips, long rusty-looking hair, and a huge beak of a nose.”
Narrowing her eyes, she stuck her nose in the air, and answered, “I have a tiny, nymph-nose thank you, and my hair is auburn. Maybe if you weren't color blind you'd know that, Mr. Purple.”
“Hey, it looked purple to me.” Jason smirked.
For the next hour, Jason and Sarah looked through the album. Few people seemed familiar. Just a man with jet black hair and another woman with a narrow nose and tiny eyes. Before Sarah knew it, it was 7:30. She took out her notebook and began to write.
“What are you writing? Nothing has happened yet.”
“Oh really? Look at the time. It’s 7:30 and you haven’t changed. I think keeping you out of the moonlight may stop the change from happening.”
They talked about the pictures and old documents for a few more hours. At 10, Sarah made Jason eat a few sandwiches and gave him some coffee. By midnight, she was convinced that as long as he stayed out of the moonlight, the change would not occur. As the grandfather clock in the upstairs living room chimed the last stroke of midnight, Sarah smiled at her brother and walked to the cage door. “I think it’s safe to let you out. As long as you stay down here, you’ll be fine.”
Jason turned and smiled at her. Something about his face didn’t look right. It wasn’t changing, but the expression on it wasn’t his. “Yesssss, you should let me out now. I am hungry.” He hissed. Grabbing the bars in his hands, his entire body grew rigid. The muscles in his face and neck pulsated as he threw his head back. A guttural human growl forced its way out. Just before his metamorphosis began, his terrified eyes locked on hers. With a raspy voice, he ordered, “Sarah, get out!”
Head shaking in refusal, she quietly sat on her mattress, and waited for his transformation to end.
It was almost the same as last night, but this time it happened faster, and he did not try to break the cage door, or attack her. This time when his change was over, he sat on the floor in front of the door, watching her.
“You’re getting better at this,” she told him.
Still watching her, he shook his head and laid down.
“I want to try an experiment to see how well you understand what I am saying, okay? I’m going to ask you yes or no questions, if your answer yes, bark once. If your answer is no, bark twice. Understand?”
The Jason-beast watched her and then let out a, “Woof.”
“Good job, Jase. See, I knew you could keep control.”
Two barks this time.
<
br /> “Yes, you can. You just have to try.”
Sarah began a round of questions. Asking him things he would know the answer to in his human form. It appeared the essence of her brother was still conscious inside the beast.
She hated to call it a beast, or even a monster. Although he was close to the size of a small pony, he was beautiful. The terror he evoked came simply from his massive size and teeth. He looked like he could easily rip her to shreds. His coat was a thick dark grey with light undertones. His belly was almost completely white, but his eyes…the eyes were giant black globes without pupils or irises. The eyes were completely alien; she’d never seen eyes like that before.
Jason listened intently and answered every question she asked. At one point, he looked up at the covered basement window and whimpered. Sarah assured him the moonlight would not come through and everything would be fine.
At 3am, she heard his stomach rumble and tossed him a few sandwiches. An unexpected giggle burst from her lips as he devoured them whole. Wolf or human, his eating habits remained the same. He wagged his tail in between bites and waited for more. Over half the tray was gone before he finally had his fill.
By 4am, she'd moved her mattress up to the side of the cage and had been petting Jason while talking to him. Just like any normal, domestic dog, he seemed to enjoy the attention and if she moved her hand away, he'd nudge her through the bars until she continued. At 5 am, an hour before sunrise, Sarah unlocked the cage door to let him out.
Jason sat just inside the door. His muscles rippled with tension as a low rumble issued from his chest. Not an ‘I’m going to eat you’ growl, it was more like a ‘How stupid can you be’ growl. Regardless of her intentions, her brother would not come out of the cage. He lay down and watched her intently. Even as an animal, he was stubborn.
Curious as to how much control he had, she stepped inside the door.
