Contents
Title Page
Copyright
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
MASONIC WEREWOLVES
James Livingood
Copyright © 2019 James Livingood
All rights reserved.
CHAPTER ONE
When people envision being robbed, they never think about the crooks taking their dog. People usually think of their trusty hound barking or biting the assailants. As Jacob Almeter looked up, his mouth full of muddy water, he saw his dog was wagging its tail being led away to who knew where. Jacob had been accused of stealing their dog and was beaten into the ground. His lip pulsed and bled, and all he could think was that his dog was such a traitor. It was perfectly happy to be led off by strangers.
After Jacob could no longer hear the group, he got up and looked for his shoe. He found it, submerged in another puddle. He drained the shoe like it was a cup and tied it to his foot. He limped away, thinking about how he should have brought a weapon when walking his dog. He had never considered this area as dangerous, but now every shadow held threat. He got odd looks at a crosswalk, but no one asked questions. He fumbled in his jacket and pulled out his apartment key. He turned the lock and let himself into his safe home.
Sitting on the couch, playing a video game, was his best friend. They had become close because they were both skinny and intellectual. They shared similar interests, including music and video games. As Jacob slid his feet in and locked the door, his friend looked over in terror.
“What happened?!” Robert said, throwing his arms up, then down as he dramatically pressed the pause button. The controller was gently set aside before he walked over to Jacob.
"I was … I was robbed," Jacob said, almost bursting into a sob.
“What! When? Where’s Sir Licks-a-lot?” Robert said, looking around Jacob’s feet.
"They took him. They accused me of stealing their dog and roughed me up. I don't know what I could have done differently. They were on me before I had a chance to even… before I could even… I don't know what." Jacob said, trying to suck in a breath.
"You need to cancel your credit cards, immediately," Robert said, not quite catching the emotional cue.
“They didn’t take my wallet… they just took my dog. I can’t believe they took my dog. Why would they want my dog?” Jacob mumbled, sniffing more and more.
Robert disliked emotions as they were hard to figure out. He knew he should hug his friend, but that felt weird. Instead, he did a side hug and then tried to help his friend out of his jacket.
“How about you clean up, then we’ll call the cops, ok? Maybe we just keep a watch on the pounds or vets and see if they bring in your dog?” Robert said helpfully.
After a short shower and phone call with the police, Jacob had an idea of what to do next. He called every nearby pound and vet and gave his dog's description. He went online and changed his pet's chip identification to read stolen. He then built posters saying that his dog was taken.
"Can you come with me? To put these up?" Jacob asked his friend. His friend agreed, and soon the local neighborhood had posters all around declaring the dog was stolen.
The next couple of days saw Jacob a bit sadder than usual. He had a routine with his dog, and now that routine was broken. He was hoping to receive a flood of tips about his stolen dog, but that was not the case. He had one ray of light among all the frustration. Someone had texted him saying that they might have his dog. They asked for a place to meet up and talk. Jacob sent out the address to the local coffee shop and agreed to meet them there. Robert went with him, just in case.
Jacob walked to the local coffee shop, looking around for threats on the way. Robert went too, giving his friend small remarks about how clues can grow into more significant clues. Jacob's mouth was wide open when he saw one of the muggers standing outside the coffee shop with his dog. The man was thin and had pants that didn’t quite fit, slightly showing off his red underwear. The man’s grey sweat pants matched a grey hoodie, though his wrinkled shirt made it look like he just got out of bed. He was traditionally handsome, with stubble adorning strongly cut cheek bones. He had dark circles around his eyes and was scratching his stubble. His eyes were bloodshot and almost looked sad and apologetic.
Jacob took a few steps towards him, hesitantly. He shot a quick look to Robert and caught a glimpse of fear. He didn’t seem like a druggie, or a dealer, perhaps because he was just too handsome. The man threw out his hand in a gesture of trying to shake hands. The quickness of the movement made Jacob flinch and take a step back.
"Hey, I am Zan. Listen, I thought this was my dog. I tied the dog up, turned around, and it was gone. I then see you walking away with the same looking dog. I didn't know." The man said.
Jacob nodded and mumbled out, "Honest mistake." He did not mention how they had beat him up. However, he kept his eyes darting between the dog and the man. The dog had its tongue out, smiling, as if it was happy to be anywhere.
“Yeah, so… here!” the man said, thrusting the leash towards Jacob. Again he flinched, but then slowly took the strap.
Robert and Jacob began walking towards the other side of the street in silence when they heard the guy's voice one more time.
"Oh, you forgot one more thing," Zan said.
Jacob turned around, confused about what he had forgotten. The answer was a gut punch that doubled him over.
"That's for making my girlfriend think I am a thief! If I had known her stupid dog was going to show up the next day, I wouldn't have wasted my energy on you. Plus your dog pooped on my imported rug!”
Jacob held the leash and got back up, the pain in his stomach stretching as he moved. He saw Zan tip over a plastic chair outside the coffee house. Jacob looked at his friend, who was supposed to back him up in a fight. That certainly didn’t happen. He then looked at his dog.
Jacob remembered thinking that his dog was a traitor for going with the stranger. Now that the dog had pooped all over that jerk's rug, his opinion changed. It was a long week, but Sir Licks-a-lot was finally coming home. However, he needed to find some way to protect himself. He needed a group of friends that could not only play video games but could back him up in a fight. He needed some gang or brotherhood.
Perhaps it was destiny when a man ran outside of the coffee shop, looking ready for a fight. He had the posture of a boxing man, arms up. He cracked his first two knuckles and breathed hard, as if holding back was difficult. He turned toward where Jacob was huddled down and almost yelled, “You want me to teach him a lesson? I don’t like people picking on others.”
Jacob shook his head and was helped up by the man. The man looked like a weight lifter, his thick neck pulsing with a vein. As Jacob was being helped up he saw a Masonic ring on his finger.
Jacob pointed to the ring. “You know, I heard you have to be invited into that organization. Is that true?”
The man looked at his ring. He then looked up at Jacob and smiled, “Nope, you just have to ask to join.”
CHAPTER TWO
The Grand Lodge of Wonderous Repute stood between a gas station and a thrift store. The building housed men of all professions, many who were in the trades. Despite the vast talent of those inside, the building's shape was box-like and almost appeared vacant. Windows were shuttered up to prevent any secrecy spilling onto the streets. The peeling paint and gutter hanging down, spoke of a broke down system for repairs. Each man had sworn oaths to their brotherhood, their families, and their higher power. Unfortunately for the Grand Lodge of Wonderous Repute, no man had taken a simple pled
ge of weekly maintenance.
Some things were kept immaculate, such as the gates and the museum in the basement. That work was held as part of the mysteries discovered. Most members knew that the only secret was why newer members were not staying to do the grunt work.
Every fundraiser caught bystanders asking probing questions, and often led to the stray man or two wandering through the doors. The heavy wooden door might as well been replaced with a glass revolving door. As soon as a potential member walked in, they saw the requirements and walked right back out. Modern man has little need to discover the mystery of upkeeping the property. Nor does the modern man need the homework of remembering speeches. They did not need to own fancy suits and they did not need to dine with strangers.
For all these reasons, the Grand Lodge of Wonderous Repute made a perfect cover. Some men in the lodge belonged to a lesser-known category. They did not wear tiny hats, have parades, and support hospitals. Instead, their order was known for pet ownership. Most in the lodge could hear these men joke about dog parks, talk of a raw meat diet for their hound, and speak the praise of certain kinds of flea medication.
These men jabbed at each other about calling their order, the Moon Moaners, because of their other interest. Beyond pet ownership, they all liked to gaze at the stars. Some thought it was a touch coincidental that nearly half the lodge had pets and loved talking about telescopes. The humorous order gained some extra raised eyebrows when they introduced their emblem. It was designed to show a husky sleeping next to a telescope at night. While the Moon Moaners were unfailing in their politeness, they didn't let many other brothers in on their inside jokes or weekend events. They would have been more hated within the lodge for their exclusion of others, except that each man went out of their way to attend the lodge events. Indeed they made up the core of what kept things going.
That was why Jacob Almeter, a new member of the Grand Lodge of Wonderous Repute, was stunned when a Moon Moaner invited him to gaze at the stars. Many men glared at the invitation, jealousy plainly written on their face. Jacob did not know the history behind this group, instead, wanting to be part of something bigger than himself.
“Congratulations, Brother Almeter. I am sure those Moon Moaners will be great sponsors. “ An old man said, dressed in black and a white waist apron. The apron had symbols all over it, but Almeter noticed it did not have the pin of the husky and telescope.
Almeter twisted his hand slightly, trying to use a hidden handshake he had just learned, “Thank you, Brother Scott. My apologies, but I don’t know your last name. I also don’t know if I am doing this handshake right.”
Brother Scott Ywett sneered and let go of his hand. The man walked away towards the other half of the room. Several men there were staring at the exchange, shaking their heads. Brother Scott joined them and must have told a joke. The small group of men broke off into a chuckle. Jacob Almeter wondered for a moment if the joke was about him but quickly discarded the feeling. After all, what had he done to become the butt of a joke? Furthermore, he was sworn to these men and these men to him. They were his brothers, and they were all above that petty high school clique stuff.
Later that night, Jacob was removing his telescope from the car. He was parked near the entrance of a hiking trail, and beside him, members of the Moon Moaners also took out their telescopes. They exchanged banter about the upcoming meteor shower. Some of the men even had unique photography equipment that attached to their telescopes. Jacob wasn't sure how long this particular activity would take, since the shower was supposed to start in about four hours. He grabbed his packed lunched bag and slung it over his shoulder. Like all things, the lodge was probably about to do some ceremony before they could start chatting.
Jacob followed some of the men to a spot that was cleared out. He was then asked to help bring a cooler full of beer from one of their cars. He helped carry one of the ends of the cooler, his arms burning slightly afterward. Jacob didn't want to admit it, but the other man was carrying most of the weight. Still, he was happy to help and to be part of some brotherhood. He secretly hoped that Zan would show up, looking for a fight, only to have all his newfound brothers pop out of the woods. He thought of Zan running away, screaming and smiled to himself.
Once the men were in a rough circle, a fire was lit in the middle in a makeshift fire pit. They had dug it out and stones lined the hole. One of the members cleared their throat and then barked. Jacob looked at him an odd manner, wondering if he was already drunk. Jacob shrugged it off and knew that the ritual was about to begin. What Jacob didn't know, was that this ritual and night was specially set up to welcome him into the moon moaners.
CHAPTER THREE
“Brothers! Brothers! Tonight is an amazing night. We have some new blood in our group! Everyone, please welcome brother Jacob Almeter!” said a bearded man in a red and black plaid shirt.
“I am sure you all remember,” the man continued, pointing around the circle, “Your first times being initiated.”
“Yeah! I was as scared as a ladybug on a spiderweb!” another man replied, followed by the group laughing.
That answer made Jacob a little tense, though he smiled politely. The sound of popping from the fire sounded like even the elements were chuckling. Jacob could hear exceptionally well tonight. He listened to the grumble from someone's stomach, even though that person was at the other edge of the large circle. Jacob could hear frogs and crickets making noise in the forest. Had the forest always been this loud at night? How did anyone get any sleep while camping if this was the noise they had to listen to?
"Now, just like other ceremonies, I need to blindfold the new guy. As you all know, this is to symbolize ignorance. In this case, it may be a bit literal." The man with a beard walked towards Jacob.
Jacob remembered his name, Brandon, just before he was in front of him with a blindfold. Before he put the blindfold on Jacob, he announced in a loud voice. "Brother Almeter, I will tell you what we are about while you have a blindfold on. If you want, you may leave. You will still be a full Masonic brother in our eyes. If you stay, you can remove the blindfold. Once you remove the blindfold, you will have another choice. If you stay again, you will be a moon moaner, just like the rest of us. If you leave, which you probably will, you will still be a full Masonic brother in our eyes. Are you ready?"
Jacob nodded, and they tied the blindfold on.
“So, Brother Almeter, can you tell us why you are here today?” Brandon asked.
Jacob usually had been given lines to say when giving responses. The fact that this was ad-lib, and that he had no lines to pull from made him wonder what was going on. “I guess I am here to watch the stars?”
“A truthful answer, yes!” said Brandon in a loud voice. Jacob could hear that he was moving around the men, as Brandon’s voice alternated between closer and further away. “But, brother Almeter, tell me the reason why you joined the Masonic order at all.”
Jacob thought for a moment. A simple reply usually did not work, nor would it be useful to give a sarcastic one. He decided to approach the question with some flowery language, "I was looking for a brotherhood."
Jacob heard murmurs of approval. He had indeed found something that everyone was expecting him to say. He was proud of himself that he had been so lucky to guess what the crowd wanted.
“That is good news!” Brandon declared, “Because we are indeed a brotherhood. You’ve been successful in that goal. But what do you hope to gain from this brotherhood?”
Jacob sucked in a breath. He had to be extra careful in answering, yet he couldn't give a generic response. He needed to reply with honesty and sincerity, but he needed the response to be something others could sympathize with. He took a long moment and said, "I was robbed, beaten up, and my dog was taken from me. When I met the robber a second time, I got my dog back, but was still laid flat on the ground. What I want from this brotherhood is to know I am safe."
The circle of men grew quiet. Extremely quiet. Jacob thoug
ht he must have said something wrong. “Hello? Was that the wrong response?”
A hand touched his shoulder. Brandon's voice said quietly, "No, that was a good response. We can offer this to you, but the truth is that you already have this protection inside you. You now have a choice."
Brandon walked several steps away from Jacob and yelled, "Your first choice, is to either trust your safety to the brothers or yourself. If you want to learn to be safe, without any of our help, we offer you this: Brother Thomas is a black belt. He will teach you, free of charge, how to defend yourself. He will stick with you until you have a black belt as well."
A man replied from the other side of the fire, “I will! Until you are as skilled or more so than I am.”
Brandon continued, “You only have to leave now, and that will be yours. You have our word.”
The group became silent again. Jacob thought, and decided against it. He could have paid for lessons himself. Money wasn’t the issue. Why hadn’t he paid for lessons already? Maybe he needed something more. Jacob said to the group, “I will stay.”
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