and
human.
Something catches my attention. My body is moving, leaving
my thoughts behind. The prey is a sharp bright point skittering across a branch
next to me. I crouch. The energy roils inside of me. My heart beats loud thuds
that join the high cricket strings. It fills my ears, sweet drum. Strong drum.
Companion hunter.
I leap, swinging, hands ripping on the harsh bark, but I
couldn’t care. Just blood. So close. For a moment I am hurtling through the
air. Wind kissing my face. Just the emptiness and that little dot of energy
growing larger. The squirrel is frozen in fear, its heart throbbing mad, making
me crazy. I snatch it right off the branch as I fall. It’s dead before I land.
* * *
I wake up on the roof and notice my gloves are gone. The sun
is just coming up. Deep gouges score my palms and forearms. I remember and
shiver. Monster Maya is Werewolf Maya. I think I was still in control, and it
was only a squirrel after all, a perfectly acceptable snack. A noise. Doorknob
turning.
I jump, grab the edge of the roof with my left hand as I
fall, swing through the bay window, let go and skid onto my bed, grabbing up
the blanket as I roll.
Tarren cracks open the door and beholds a Maya tortilla
wrapped in blankets with eyes closed, face smooth and serene in slumber. He
stands there for a while and then closes the door. I let out my breath in a big
whoosh and untangle myself from the blankets.
Even as I begin pulling long wooden splinters from my skin,
I follow Tarren’s energy as he moves through the house. When he steps outside,
I scramble back up onto the roof and stretch out onto my stomach.
Tarren stands below me looking out along the empty gravel
road. I can only see the back of his head, but I imagine his face is grim and
determined. He takes off running, red pain springing up in his aura near his
injured rib. His fluid gait reveals a natural athleticism.
There are heavy things on his mind. Dark things. What
happened to the shy boy in the photographs?
* * *
Gabe cradles a bowl of drowned cereal in his arm as he
clicks through emails. All three computer monitors are alight. Bluegrass twangs
from the speakers on his desk as he flips across tabs in his browsers, pulling
up and quickly dismissing page after page.
He flinches when he catches me out of the corner of his eye.
“Jesus, put some bells on or something,” he says with a
smile.
“Morning,” I reply. “You’re wearing the same jeans from
yesterday.”
“Changed my shirt though. Even hit some deodorant now that
we’ve got a girl in the house. You’re welcome.”
He’s expecting a retort back, but my throat has gone tight.
I’m ready to cry all over again, because I’m suddenly so grateful that he’s
treating me like a normal person and so terrified because he’s also treating me
like a sister.
“I caught a squirrel,” I tell him.
Gabe spins around in his chair and looks me over, noting my
dirt-streaked elbows and pine needle hair accessories.
“Did it have a crooked tail?” he asks.
“The squirrel? No, I don’t think so.”
“Good. I like that one. He’s like boss of the squirrels.
It’s cool.” Gabe spins back around and leaves the spoon sticking out his mouth
as he opens another email. “Oh, and you probably shouldn’t tell Tarren about
the whole squirrel killing thing,” he mumbles. “He can be…well, sometimes it’s
just better not to tell him things.”
I study the warring action figures arranged on the shelf
above Gabe’s computers. A Cylon from Battlestar Galactica is locked in deadly
combat with a samurai sword-wielding Bratz doll. Disgraced green army men lay
where they fell. I can’t imagine the fused feet were anything but a liability.
Wolverine has his claws plunged through a Happy Meal Shrek figurine.
Eyes stare out at me from the left computer screen, and I
turn and take note of a young girl positioned and smiling in the fake way of a
school picture. She looks a little like my freshmen
human.
Something catches my attention. My body is moving, leaving
my thoughts behind. The prey is a sharp bright point skittering across a branch
next to me. I crouch. The energy roils inside of me. My heart beats loud thuds
that join the high cricket strings. It fills my ears, sweet drum. Strong drum.
Companion hunter.
I leap, swinging, hands ripping on the harsh bark, but I
couldn’t care. Just blood. So close. For a moment I am hurtling through the
air. Wind kissing my face. Just the emptiness and that little dot of energy
growing larger. The squirrel is frozen in fear, its heart throbbing mad, making
me crazy. I snatch it right off the branch as I fall. It’s dead before I land.
* * *
I wake up on the roof and notice my gloves are gone. The sun
is just coming up. Deep gouges score my palms and forearms. I remember and
shiver. Monster Maya is Werewolf Maya. I think I was still in control, and it
was only a squirrel after all, a perfectly acceptable snack. A noise. Doorknob
turning.
I jump, grab the edge of the roof with my left hand as I
fall, swing through the bay window, let go and skid onto my bed, grabbing up
the blanket as I roll.
Tarren cracks open the door and beholds a Maya tortilla
wrapped in blankets with eyes closed, face smooth and serene in slumber. He
stands there for a while and then closes the door. I let out my breath in a big
whoosh and untangle myself from the blankets.
Even as I begin pulling long wooden splinters from my skin,
I follow Tarren’s energy as he moves through the house. When he steps outside,
I scramble back up onto the roof and stretch out onto my stomach.
Tarren stands below me looking out along the empty gravel
road. I can only see the back of his head, but I imagine his face is grim and
determined. He takes off running, red pain springing up in his aura near his
injured rib. His fluid gait reveals a natural athleticism.
There are heavy things on his mind. Dark things. What
happened to the shy boy in the photographs?
* * *
Gabe cradles a bowl of drowned cereal in his arm as he
clicks through emails. All three computer monitors are alight. Bluegrass twangs
from the speakers on his desk as he flips across tabs in his browsers, pulling
up and quickly dismissing page after page.
He flinches when he catches me out of the corner of his eye.
“Jesus, put some bells on or something,” he says with a
smile.
“Morning,” I reply. “You’re wearing the same jeans from
yesterday.”
“Changed my shirt though. Even hit some deodorant now that
we’ve got a girl in the house. You’re welcome.”
He’s expecting a retort back, but my throat has gone tight.
I’m ready to cry all over again, because I’m suddenly so grateful that he’s
treating me like a normal person and so terrified because he’s also treating me
like a sister.
“I caught a squirrel,” I tell him.
Gabe spins around in his chair and looks me over, noting my
dirt-streaked elbows and pine needle hair accessories.
“Did it have a crooked tail?” he asks.
“The squirrel? No, I don’t think so.”
“Good. I like that one. He’s like boss of the squirrels.
It’s cool.” Gabe spins back around and leaves the spoon sticking out his mouth
as he opens another email. “Oh, and you probably shouldn’t tell Tarren about
the whole squirrel killing thing,” he mumbles. “He can be…well, sometimes it’s
just better not to tell him things.”
I study the warring action figures arranged on the shelf
above Gabe’s computers. A Cylon from Battlestar Galactica is locked in deadly
combat with a samurai sword-wielding Bratz doll. Disgraced green army men lay
where they fell. I can’t imagine the fused feet were anything but a liability.
Wolverine has his claws plunged through a Happy Meal Shrek figurine.
Eyes stare out at me from the left computer screen, and I
turn and take note of a young girl positioned and smiling in the fake way of a
school picture. She looks a little like my freshmen
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