8 Ch 8 Man of a Beas

Wolf.

Man.

The wolf I had just been was more wolf than I had ever been before. I felt confused and disoriented. I glanced at dad as he eased the truck back on the freeway.

I am man, I knew I was! But...

My body twitched, even though I had completed my transformation. My clothing felt constrictive. I tried to speak, but the words wouldn't form.

Dad nudged the water bottle over until it bumped my thigh. I awkwardly managed to unscrew the top and take a sip. I didn't trust myself to put the cap back on. My eyes followed my fingers as they moved. It was like I didn't know my own hand.

I turned automatically when dad sighed.

"Open the glove box."

I pushed the button and the small compartment door popped open. Inside were the usual assortment of papers for the truck, a small first aid bag from which many a bandaid had come from when I was a kid, and the heavy leather pouch dad called his emergency kit.

I knew what was in it, had seen everything there many times when we went camping. I pulled the bag out now, knowing what he wanted. I slid out the waterproof matches, one of those emergency foil blankets, a flare, and a hunting knife cocooned in an old leather sheath.

I pulled the knife out, slid everything else back in, closed the pouch, and put it back in the glove box.

Dad reached out, put one hand on top of mine for a second, before clicking the radio off. We headed down the road in silence for a bit before he finally spoke.

"What does the wolf want?" He glanced away from the road and at me before continuing. "The wolf wants to live free. It wants to enjoy the sun on its back and the ground beneath its feet. It wants to play. It wants the companionship of family. It wants to hunt and to eat."

Another look over at me. Dad was grinning and I knew he was thinking of the appetite I had gained with that growth spurt, and how often mom had lovingly teased me about it. Or maybe he was thinking of how I had gotten into some garbage as a wolf pup and had my stomach cramp up with worms. Had to be the absolute grossest thing ever. I learned to be more careful where I stuck my nose after that.

"When food gets scarce, the wolf doesn't go on his own so only he can eat what he finds. The wolf isn't greedy or selfish like men can be. More wolves just as hungry will join him. They know they can overcome their obstacle together. Even if they've never worked together before, the wolf knows what to do. Their voices join in the night, until they hear the note they are listening for. When they find prey, they are on the move. Weakness becomes irrelevant. Previous competition becomes irrelevant. To survive they become of one mind and one accord. They become one pack. They fill their need by working together.

"And even when there is no need at all, there is the wolf's song. Even if they drift apart, they reconnect with their voices as their howls echo through the night. The wolf wants that connection, needs it."

He paused again. I knew all this. He knew I knew it. I didn't understand the point he was driving at.

"What happens when your human brain shifts into a wolf brain? Hmm? You want what the wolf wants. And the wolf isn't interested in becoming human. You have to give the wolf a reason to be human, feed its curiosity, its need for family. It needs to know, without a doubt, that survival depends on your human form as well as the wolf form. You need to know it."

I had never ever, not once, considered my brain shifting like my body. I had always been able to focus, even as a wolf. I thought about it for a second.

What had I been as a wolf before? It would have been a wolf with a human brain processing wolf information. The wolf accessing parts of the human brain that normally aren't used. The difference between human brain and wolf brain was the difference between night and day.

Wolf instinct was like just knowing things, processing the sounds and smells so much more efficiently. The wolf wasn't stupid though, it could reason to a point. Right now I needed to have a human brain. I double checked myself. Two times two is four, four times four...

Dad grinned again as I took a shaky breath.

"So what's the knife for?" My voice was rough but working. I took another sip of water.

He looked thoughtful as he drove down the freeway. The turn toward our more local town was just up ahead. He'd glanced at the road sign we'd just passed and I could tell he was debating stopping. I just wanted to go home and curl into a ball, crank some tunes up maybe. No such luck.

He drove around town, not saying a word. No sound from either of us as he went through our favorite drive-thru and ordered the usual burgers, fries, shakes. He finally stopped at the small park I had played at as a kid. He put the knife back in the glove box and we both just sat there for a moment. Finally he grabbed the food and headed off to the grassy spot where Mom and I had often enjoyed lunch after a morning of play.  Groaning, I slid my sneakers on and followed after him, sitting next to him in an empty expanse of grass.

"Back when I met your mom...never told you how we met."

"College," I said, reaching for the food.

Dad's quiet smile and slight shake of the head told me I was in for another story. Dad snagged the bag and pulled out some fries.

"I used to run as a wolf at night. I knew every bush, wall, and alley for blocks around campus. Money was tight for me, so I spent my nights curled up under a bush here or there. I had my stuff cached and the area marked. There wasn't an animal in the area that would invade an area filled with my wolf scent. Dinner was often squirrels."

I wrinkled my nose. Squirrel was edible but not my favorite. The burger was better. I tried to picture dad at college while he dug in the bag for his own burger. Somehow dad the wolf and dad the man in college just weren't meshing in my mind.

"One night I smelled blood. I tracked it to a girl who was stumbling along. I ran to my cache, grabbed some clothes, ran back to help her. Her clothes were torn. She'd been cut on her arms and stabbed in the leg."

Dad was quiet for awhile, lost in his memories. I squirmed uncomfortably. He looked over, gave me a sad smile. He shook his head slightly, guessing what I was thinking.

"It wasn't your mom... that time. This girl had been raped. I spent the rest of the night trying to track the man-beast who could do such a thing. Lost his trail in traffic."

Suddenly I didn't want to hear this story, didn't want to know events I had been happily ignorant of. Dad's look was almost indecipherable. Pain, anger, sadness, grief... and a hardness I'd never seen before.

"It was a few months before I caught his scent again. I wasted no time following it. I caught up to him as he was tracking another girl. He was moments from grabbing her. I had no time to get clothes. I attacked him as a wolf."

Dad looked over at me. He had a slight grin this time.

"That was the night I met your mother. And what a meeting," Dad sighed. "She heard the man cuss as I bit him. He tried to kick me. I danced out of the way. I could see the calculating look he sent your mother's way as he asked her to come help him. I couldn't let her get near him. I growled to scare her away, then focused on him.

"I ripped into him at least a dozen times. I kept biting and snapping at him, keeping him pinned in place. He pulled out a knife and tried to slice me every time I went in to attack. The scene went on for at least twenty minutes. Suddenly the guy dropped in pain."

Another long pause. Dad slurped the last of his shake. I couldn't take my eyes off him. There was a gentle breeze. I could hear the sound of children laughing, and the creak from swings at the playground. The bright sun contrasted with the darkness of the story.

"That was the first," and dad looked sharply at me, "and only time I have ever bitten any one, besides your mother. I realized my mistake when that man dropped in pain. I could hear his muscles pop. His body was trying to start to change. Before that, I had no idea that our bite would actually affect anyone. Who believes the stuff in fiction?" He shook his head ruefully. "My family had been born, not bitten. I didn't know."

The silence grew as dad contemplated his past before turning to me again.

"Can you imagine a man like that, being able to become what we are?"

Dad's words brought scenarios to my mind that I had never really considered. Bad guy werewolves. How much damage could even one man do, if it was the wrong man who was bitten? The silence got deeper, slightly charged with tension. My lack of comment had him worried.

"You see, don't you? Why I couldn't let him live?"

The look dad threw me was one filled with the desperate hope that I understood what he was saying, that he had killed a man. I don't know what look was on my face, but dad reached over to grip my shoulder. He gave a slight nod.

"I was still wolf. I ripped his throat out. Then I panicked. I knew it couldn't look like an animal attack. They'd hunt me down and not be satisfied until they found something. I shifted enough to grab the man's knife, slashed him where every bite mark was, then finally stuck it his throat. I tried to figure if we had struggled as men and I had accidentally stabbed him trying to avoid his knife, just how the slice would have to go. I moved the knife and left it in the body, shifting completely so I would leave fingerprints.

"I planned on reporting it to the police as self defense. I couldn't just leave the body there to raise questions. I could only hope I had killed him before any truly noticeable shifting had occurred, and with an obvious cause of death there wouldn't be any autopsy investigation."

Another rueful shake of his head.

"That's when I heard your mother. She hadn't left, at least not far. She had seen me as a wolf. She saw me change into a man. Once I focused on her, I could hear her heartbeat practically pounding out of her chest.

"She was brave, your mother. I wasn't sure what to do. Before I knew it I had shifted back to wolf, gliding up to her, circling close, brushing against her legs. I stood as a wolf in front of her, taking a protective stance, and growled at the world. Glancing back up at her, I expected to see a terrified girl. She surprised me, dropping down to her knees in front of me, hands on my head, forehead against mine, telling me thank you."

Dad was tearing up, the memory of mom overwhelming him. He shook his head again.

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"I told her I had to grab clothes that were nearby, then get the police. She told me she would stay. I ran into the dorms, breathless, hollering for someone to call the police, then hurried back to where your mother was at.

"She... she had me pull the knife back out and had me cut myself a few times, making some shallow cuts, enough to rip clothes and leave a scratch. She wanted me to put a cut on her as well. I flicked the knife toward her so some blood splattered on her clothes. It would be enough. The knife went back into the man's neck, with a slightly pull on it to get it wedged into his flesh.

"We had our stories synchronized by the time the police arrived, a story close enough to the truth. She was a convincing victim. I was considered a hero, saving the campus from a rapist and potential murderer."

The silence was more comfortable this time. I couldn't blame him for killing the rapist, considering the circumstances. It was as much self-defense as anything. I wondered if I'd be able to do the same if there was need.

"I've always had a knife on hand ever since, just in case. Plus, if it is a type of venom, maybe it can be cut and sucked out like snakebites. I don't know. But that's why the knife. I pray you never have to use it."