Friday, August 28, 2009

Howling (7)

It took some convincing but I eventually got out of the phasing trip. I don’t think that John really bought that I am sticking behind because of an early shift at the hospital the day we return. I had used that excuse once before, but this time I could tell by John’s eyes that he wasn’t buying it.

I’m not going to bother locking myself in the cage. I know that he’ll spot me in there if I do. Instead, I travel up to the spare bedroom and await the change. If this bedroom gets messed up, it really won’t bother me. I lay down on the bed and allow myself to drift asleep. The sleep should help ease me into my wolf state.

I wake many hours later to the setting sun outside my window. I pad to the window and place my front paws on the sill, taking in the beauty of the sunset. Below me, I can see James’ car. Someone is with him – an older man. It looks like it could be his father. They are pulling a swing up to the front porch. I hear various tools working to hang the swing on the front porch. I wait until the tools stop to pad down the stairs. I stop at the screen door, wishing I had installed a doggie door years ago.

I make a low bark of frustration before sitting down and looking out the window. James is at his car, about to get in. He suddenly turns and heads up the driveway to the house. I can hear him shouting to his friend that he left the front door open. He stops in his tracks at the front door.

“You just couldn’t wait, could you?” He asks, opening the door. I walk up to him and let out a low whine. He reaches down to pet the top of my head. “Wait here.”

I watch as he runs back to his truck. He whispers something to his companion and they both start back up the drive. The other man approaches, holding his hand out in front of him. He’s allowing me to get familiar with his scent, much like you would a dog. I gingerly sniff the air and his hand. It has a scent familiar to James, suggesting that I was right about the relations between the two men. I place my head under his hand and allow him to pet me.

James heads away from me. He stops a few yards from the river and motions for me to join him and sit beside him. His arm loosely droops around my shoulders and I enjoy the feel of his human arm on my wolf back. His companion has a camera in his hand, ready to take a picture. James smiles and I give the best grin I can without baring my teeth. Wolves look vicious when their teeth are bared. The camera flashes once. His friend takes two photos – one with and one without the flash.

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James stays with me all weekend, sleeping in the guest bed, me curled at his feet. It is too hot to sleep beside him like I want to. He keeps me fed and talks to me, trying to make out the meaning of my responses. Eventually, I nudge him out of the room, knowing that I will phase soon. I can smell food cooking downstairs as I drift to sleep.

I wake to the smell of bacon and eggs and travel down the stairs to find James standing at my stove. When I first woke, I feared it had all been a dream. Things can be a bit hazy when you recall them from your wolf memory. But here he is – standing in my kitchen making me breakfast. I look out the window and can see the swing hanging from the porch roof. I instantly recognize it as the swing from the old house.

“Why don’t you go outside and take a look at it?” James asks from behind me. “I’ll be out there in a moment.”

I make my way out to the front porch. The swing seems to fit in perfectly – as though it has been there for years. As I watch James walk through the door, I realize that he is much like the swing that I was sitting on. He’s new to my life, but he seems like he has been here for years. It is so natural for me to watch him bringing breakfast through the door. He sits down beside me and spreads the food between us.

“John, would you want to move in?” I ask him suddenly. For once in my life, I’m seizing the moment and it felt nice.

“Under one condition.” His smile spreads across his face. He has something up his sleeve.

“What?” I ask between bites.

“You marry me.” He says simply.

“When?”

“The sooner the better.” He replies, pulling me close to him. I lean in to kiss him, sealing the deal.

* * * * *


We set the date for one month later in the backyard of my house. The moon is barely visible in the sky and the stars twinkle around us. All of my friends and his family are present at the wedding. His father gives us a framed photo for a gift. It is my favorite gift of them all. The photograph shows a happy man with his arms dangled around the wolf he loves.

When I climb into bed with James, I find the perfect place for my photograph. I set in on my bedside table. That way, James and his love for me will be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night before I drift off to sleep. I’m a werewolf married to a human – that’s rarer than you would think – and for me, every moment is like a fairy tale.

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Howling by Pamela MacLean is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Saturday, August 22, 2009

Howling (6)

He arrives at my door at the exact time we agreed upon. I’m so excited that I’ve been dressed for hours. None of my friends know where I’m going. I know that over half of them will disapprove greatly.

We ride in his car, eventually ending up at an abandoned house. I don’t think I can find my way back here if I want to. It’s hidden somewhere in the depths of winding dirt roads.

I ask him about the house the second we pull up to it. He informs me that it is just an old house that he came across during a hike. There are no signs warning against trespassing and he knows nothing about the owners. Like me, he can only guess about the terrors this house has seen.

He pushes open the front door for us and I follow him inside. The living room is small and charred. In the middle, a picnic for two is set up. Champagne is positioned in the middle surrounded by two pillar candles. James immediately lights them and the room quickly aglow.

James cooked the dinner himself. It is a lavish spread of various Italian dishes. Some I have seen before, while many are new to me. I enjoy most of them greatly. Following dinner, James suggests exploring the house.

It isn’t a loved house. It’s a house that people forgot long ago. The wood is rotten and charred in many places. There’s an eerie smoke smell that lingers in the house. Mildewed furniture is scattered and strewn about the rooms. The only thing that is still useable is the front porch swing.

We fill the rooms with stories of times gone by and eventually end up snuggling on the porch swing. It is well into the night before we find our way back to the car and head home.

* * * * *

We go on five more dates before he takes me to the old house again. When I ask him why, he tells me that tonight is going to be a very special night. We eat a lavish spread once more and retire to the porch. He asks me what I like about the old house.

“I love this swing.” I tell him, leaning my head on his shoulder.

“So, this swing.” James rocks the swing slowly. “What else do you love about this house?”

“I love that I’m sharing it with you.” I smile up at him, bringing my lips to his.

“Anything else?”

“Why are you asking?” I’m completely intrigued by the randomness of his questions until something hits me. “You’re not planning on restoring this place are you? You’re not the owner.”

“No, I’m not the owner. But I am thinking of doing something – just not remodeling a dilapidated house.” James says, pushing the swing back with his feet. “I’m thinking of surprising you.”

“Good luck with that James,” I tell him, pushing the swing back with my own feet. We find ourselves deposited on the floor soon.

“You’ll be in the mountains for the next full moon, right?” He asks, with a gleam in his eye.

“Yes. Why?”

“Because that seems like the perfect opportunity to surprise you.” James obviously has a plan. And it is a good one if it involves the full moon and me. I’m going to have to find some way out of going to the mountains. I want to watch James try to pull off a surprise.

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Howling by Pamela MacLean is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.

Sunday, August 16, 2009

Howling (5)

I wake the next morning refreshed and eager to start my day. When I look out the window, the sun is rising on the river. Light shimmers in red, orange, and pink hues across the water. I open the windows of the house and start breakfast.

I eat silently at the kitchen table thinking about the night before. With the fresh light of the sun streaming through the window, last night seems to a distant memory of a dream. I still can’t wrap my brain around the way James reacted. It was as though he had no fear, no human instincts.

I know that I’m not going to be able to let this rest. The other wolves will be back tonight and I have a lot of damage control to do before then. We aren’t supposed to expose ourselves to humans under any conditions. I have done worse than exposing, I allowed him to see the transformation. I may very well have put us all in danger.

I lock the door and head for my car. I roll the windows down to make up for the lack of air conditioning. I’m headed for the hospital downtown. The one the ambulance took me to after my motorcycle incident.

I walk up to the front desk and introduce myself, explaining to the receptionist that Dr. Sinclair had seen me following an accident and that I need to talk to him about something. She politely informs me that the doctor will not be in today – it is his day off. With that avenue now closed off to me, I head back outside to my car.

I reach into my purse and pull out a folded slip of paper. Opening it, I gaze at the number in my hand. One simple phone call and I will reach him. I look around for a pay phone. Finding none, I decide that I’m going to have to wait until I get home to call James. I frown and leave the hospital.

I pull into my driveway to be met by a surprise. A figure is sitting on my porch hidden by the shadows. I’m guessing that John must have come back early from the phasing trip and is checking on me. I approach the porch quickly, ready to send him on his way.

As I reach the porch, the figure stands up. He steps from the shadows and I can see his face easily now. It’s James and he holds a small bouquet of flowers in his hand.

“Who are the flowers for?” I ask, unlocking the front door.

“This lovely girl I met a few days ago. Have you seen her around?” His mood is light and quirky. He smiles his special smile and I realize that I haven’t seen him in a relaxed setting before. I like it.

“Depends. What does she look like?” I turn and ask him. I motion for him to follow me into the house.

“She has striking topaz eyes, long chocolate hair, and smooth skin.” He smiles and then winks. “Sometimes she even has a tail.”

“Are you always this elegant in your descriptions or have you been thinking about that one for a while?” I tease, setting a pitcher of lemonade on the table. James still holds the bouquet in his hands.

“I thought about it all night.” He says, his face motionless. I can’t read him. I can’t tell if he’s serious or joking.

“And that was the best you came up with? Seems like a lot of effort.” I comment, pouring the lemonade.

“It does. But I’m hoping it’s worth it.” He says, holding the bouquet out to me. I take it with one hand, surprised to find that the flowers are silk. They are the most realistic looking silk flowers that I had ever seen.

“These are lovely,” I say, as I search for a vase under the sink.

“I agree. That’s why I picked them out.” He’s smiling again. I’m beginning to love his smile and quick wit.

“Well, for a guy, you have great taste.” I say as I finally locate a vase and set them in the center of the table.

“I just thought of you as I was picking them out.” He says.

“And why do I deserve flowers?” I ask him, still trying to figure out why he’s here again.

“Because you’re beautiful. And because I was hoping they would soften you up.”

“For what?” I can’t help but be intrigued by his secrecy.

“Well, I was wondering if you would like to go out sometime?” He asks me, fiddling with a string on his shirt.

“I would love to, but you have to answer a question for me first.” I bargain. He has seen me phase and yet he’s still here.

“Go for it.” He looks intrigued.

“Are you sure you want to date a werewolf?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. I’ve actually done a lot of thinking on the matter.” He tells me, changing seats to be closer to me. “And I’ve come up with a theory. You don’t get a choice in who you love. They may be crazy; they may be different. But they are still the one you love. They are still the one that you keep coming back to.”

“Are you saying you love me?” I ask. Was it possible that I had found my one? John had told me that I would know it when I found him. He said it was a trait of werewolves – the ability to recognize love at first sight, even if they didn’t realize it at first.

“I guess I am.” James says, pulling at the string again. “I’m finding it impossible to do anything but think about you Molly. I want to know every inch of you – the human you and the wolf you.”

“That’s great James, but I don’t think that you know what you’re getting yourself into.” I tell him, thinking about the consequences that could come from falling for a human.

“I know that. And I don’t care. I would rather spend an eternity with you and never fully understand everything happening around me than spend an eternity wondering what might have been.”

“You’re scaring me.” I tell him, shocked by the sincerity of his words.

“That’s a switch. I would think it should be you scaring me, not the other way around.” His hand is cupping my chin now. I tilt my head back as his lips approach mine. His lips are soft against mine. He’s kissing me and I’m kissing him back.

“I don’t believe it.” I say, coming up for breath.

“Believe what?”

“I’ve found a man who can love me for who I am. Who can see my darkness and still get past it.” I tell him, cupping his chin. I whisper to him before kissing him. “I think you might be my one, James Sinclair.”

“I would like that very much.” He says, smiling back down at me.

“You would, would you?” I ask. I pull him to me for another kiss. This one is longer and deeper. We allow our bodies to take control. They seem to fit so perfectly.

I finally pull myself away and look into James eyes. They are full of love and trust, something that I haven’t seen in a long time. My father certainly never looked at my mother that way.

“Fine, I’ll go on a date with you.” I tell him. We talk for several more hours and make plans for our first date. As I show him to the door, I inquire about the location and he tells me it will be a surprise.

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Creative Commons License
Howling by Pamela MacLean is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.