This Is Not a Werewolf Story by Sandra Evans Page A

is superhuman.
    â€œYou think it’s funny to steal a man’s clothes?” He strips the straw man.
    The blood pumps in my neck. I want to run.
    â€œThis shirt means something,” he says. “It means I’m a champion.” He’s ripping the straw man up as he talks. “Kids think they’re the only ones with dreams. Grown-ups have dreams too. Dreams that die just like yours will unless you listen up and listen good.”
    He unzips his running jacket. He’s not wearing a shirt underneath. The skin of his chest is smooth and tan and muscles bump and bulge. He turns around and points to a scar on his back. It’s white and raised. It looks like he has two spines, almost.
    â€œThat’s what happened to my dream. I was running in the woods one day, just like you.” He steps toward me. “One wrong move, that’s all it took.” He tilts his head and I see his eyes glow. “They told me I’d never walk again. One wrong move in the woods, Raul, and everything changed. And now I’m a joke to you, huh?”
    I shake my head. Nothing about Tuffman makes mewant to laugh. The scar is awful, like a thick seam of doubled-over skin.
    â€œBet you think that story has nothing to do with you. It has everything to do with you. You think you get to choose what happens next.” He steps toward me again. “Well, you don’t. Life happens to you.”
    He’s about three feet away. I can sense he’s about to grab me. The hairs on the back of my neck stand straight out.
    â€œListen, Raul,” he says. His eyes fix on me. I can’t move.
    â€œHere’s the moral to the story. Not just my story. Your story too. I was like you. I wasn’t alone in the woods that day either. I was with a friend, Raul. More than a friend. She was family. I loved her like a little sister. She did that to me.” He twists around again to show me the scar.
    My mouth pops open. The scar has changed color. The muscles in his back twitch, and for a second I think it’s a bloodred snake slithering along his spine.
    â€œShe broke my back. Maybe I had it coming. I’m the one that taught her to fight, that woke up the predator in her. I never thought she’d turn on me. I hate her sometimes, but I shouldn’t. It’s natural law. The strongest one wins. That day, she won.”
    He zips up his jacket.
    â€œWhat are you doing out here, anyway? Is this yourterritory?” He smiles a little, like he’s teasing. But his eyes glow like he’s not. He shifts.
    I imagine the snake of a scar, twisting red with his every move. I remember the wounds in his neck that Mean Jack pointed out. My skin crawls. Everything about him is awful.
    â€œRaul?” He says my name again.
    I know better than to look in his eyes.
    I run.
    My second self is still awake. After the first step I go down on all fours and race wolf-style off the path and through the underbrush.
    I hear Tuffman shout and curse, crashing down the path behind me. I barely have a head start, but I know these woods better than he does, and he only has two legs. I have four. I just have to make it to the road. It’s drop-off day. Parents will be coming soon, right? Tuffman wouldn’t want them to see him force-feeding me that bird’s-nest toupee.
    When I get to the road, I stand upright like a boy. The woods behind me are quiet, but I know he’s in there, breathing hard and watching.
    I brush my hands off on my jeans. I’m shaking. It’s not just fear and adrenaline. It’s shame. Tuffman saw me run on all fours like a wolf wearing the skin of a boy. It’s like he saw me naked.
    But that was a choice. I chose to run like a wolf.
    I book it up the hill.
    Please let Dean Swift be there. Please let the doors be unlocked.
    I try the handle of the front door. I sigh with relief as it turns.
    Bobo comes up and puts her nose in my pocket. Give me the stinky stick.