The Amazing Wolf Boy

Part 20 - Police Dogs

I glanced around Brittany’s yellow kitchen as if looking for an escape. The words of the newscaster rang in my ears—body of a young woman…person or persons unknown.

“Are you all right?” Brittany asked.

I thought I was going to be sick. Sweat trickled down my neck. My hands shook. I was losing control. If I didn’t get out of there, I would turn into a wolf in front of her.

“I didn’t realize it was so late,” I murmured, unable to keep the alarm out of my voice. “I have to go.”

“Can’t you stay for dinner? I’m making beer biscuits to go with the beans.”

“No, really. I promised I’d be back before dark.”

She stood as if offended. “All right.”

Without looking at me, she left the kitchen. I hurried after. In the living room, Grandpa Earle sat sound asleep in front of the blaring television.

Brittany skipped down the porch steps and across the yard. The sun was low, and gold light glinted through the trees. My vision swam, and I could have kicked myself. What was I thinking, going to her house the day after a full moon?

I walked to her car, one foot ahead of the other. Her dog, Haff, appeared from nowhere to growl and bark at me. My lip rose, and I gave it a sidelong glance. It took off yelping like I’d kicked it.

I climbed into the passenger seat. Brittany buckled in, and then changed the radio back to the indie station. She backed out of the carport. I knew she was disappointed. She probably planned to have me stay for dinner, wanting to cook for me. I was ruining everything. With a groan, I leaned against the door and let the breeze from the open window dry my sweat.

“You look feverish,” she said.

“Not feeling good.”

“I’ll get you home.” She nodded at me and smiled.

My heart nearly burst. I wanted to tell her everything—why I was ill, why my parents kicked me out, and how none of it mattered now that I met her. I wanted to tell her how much I liked her. Of course, I couldn’t.

We pulled onto the dirt road and turned opposite the direction we came in. The temperature dropped with the sun, turning the wind cool and refreshing. The road met another, forming a T, and we turned left. After a while, I saw flashing lights and two green and white cars parked on the grass. Orange cones blocked the street. Brittany slowed to get around them.

“This must be where they found the body,” she said.

We were on North Road. Had she gone that way out of curiosity? Several men stood at the edge of the trees. Not all were in uniform. They milled about like they were at one of my mom’s cocktail parties. All they needed were champagne glasses.

I smelled fur a moment before four police dogs and their owners stepped out of the woods. My heart nearly stopped. I stared ahead, picturing the dogs lunging through my window, foaming at the mouth to get at me. How would I explain that? But we were past the cones and picking up speed before anyone saw we were there.

“I wonder who it was,” Brittany said. “They only said she was a young woman.”

It occurred to me that there was a good chance she knew the deceased. The killing was so near to her house.

“It was probably a jogger,” she said. “We have a lot of joggers around here.”

“Do they run at night?”

“Doubt it. That’s a good way to turn an ankle.”

“Do you jog?”

She laughed. “It’s not my thing.”

“Stay inside tonight. Really.”

She glanced at me. “All right.”

We got to my uncle’s house. His truck was in the drive. I stared at the front door, reluctant to go inside, afraid to let him see me like this.

“Here we are,” Brittany said. “Feel better.”

“Thanks.” I looked at her, wanting to tell her to be careful, to watch out for her little brother, but the words tangled in my mouth, and all I said was, “Seeya.” I opened the door of the Beetle and got out.

Her tires crackled on the gravel as she pulled away. I looked at the house, and my stomach twisted.

I would turn into a wolf tonight. There was nothing I could do to stop it. I was weak. Hopeless. Angry at myself, I stomped across the porch and through the front door.

Uncle Bob sat before his old black-and-white, watching the news. “Cute girl.”

I glared as if he’d ridiculed me. Yeah, cute girl. Too bad she’ll never like me. I wanted to yell at him to mind his own business, wanted to pack up my things and run. But that would be stupid. I stormed into the kitchen.

I was sweating harder than ever. At the fridge, I grabbed the chocolate milk and drank from the jug. I remembered Grandpa Earle on his lawn chair, talking about the good old days. I understood. I hadn’t wanted my life to change, either.

“I thought we could spend some time together tonight,” my uncle said from the kitchen doorway.

I set the empty container on the sink. I couldn’t meet his eyes. “Not tonight,” I said, my voice sounding husky. “I have to go.”

Without looking at him, I pressed past and left the house. He could have stopped me, but he didn’t try. I grabbed my bike and took off, pedaling as fast as I could. I wasn’t sure where I was going or what I would do when I got there.