The Wolf's Den

Bee

 My brothers were werewolves, and sometimes they were the stupidest ones I'd ever met.

I'd been told by Mr. Jarias at the supermarket that they would be back, that they would come home finally soon. That was an hour ago.

I hadn't believed him.

Then on my way home again I had taken the shortcut through one of the neighborhoods to get to the long back road that led to my home. The Rhodes family had been out in their yard as I passed and of course I'd had to slow down as the mother yelled out to me. She'd said almost the exact same thing as Mr. Jarias, with a smile that was encouraging on her face. As if she'd told me for my own benefit what I needed to hear.

Both had known my family and I for a long time, had seen the outside looking in of my life for the past decade. They weren't strangers, but everyone in this town had felt distant to me for so long now that I just smiled and thanked them when they told me anything at all. I had small talk down to a T in this town, knew and could visit with just about everyone but still kept them all at a distance that was safer. Just in case.

I never believed anyone when they said that they were coming home soon, not even myself. I used to, but that had changed.

Over the years I just had come to accept it— that I couldn't change it, that it just was the way it was. Same as everything else in my life. From the dead-beat going-nowhere-jobs I'd had to keep, to the crazy friendships I'd made that could only stay secret.

Yet here I was... staring at their vehicles in our gravel driveway. Parked right to the side of our front porch rails that started our old two-story home.

It was my pride and joy, this house, it'd been through shit and every time I had repaired what I could. The colors were a faded white and a light sky blue that I had picked and re-touched several times. It's windows were scattered perfectly across both floors and I knew each one held a beautiful view of the yard and forest that surrounded our home on all sides at a distance. The front steps up the porch were simple white and the porch itself held three wooden chairs to sit on.

Then I realized I wasn't dreaming.

Those vehicles were really there, in the very spots I'd kept empty for them for well over two years. And before that it had been seven months. And before that it had been another year and a half.

They came.

And then they were gone again.

Always the same.

In the past I had forced smiles on my face despite how I really felt, I had run and leaped onto them with a hug and welcomed them back no matter how long they'd been gone. I had always hung around waiting, I would try to invite them to eat or wait for them with food or movies or anything. I would stand around and bug them to spend time with me while they were in town and then... I would convince myself, that this time— this time they were staying.

But I was always wrong.

And they were gone way too soon again.

I didn't even have the energy in me to summon for a fake smile this time, much less a greeting like I used to give them.

My brothers and their best friend were home.

The home I'd tried to keep and rebuild for them. My home that wasn't quite home enough without them, and the home they didn't seem to want all that much.

Yet I could never seem to leave it like they did.

I slowly moved my beat-up long-faded blue pick-up truck to it's parking spot, the furthest from the front of the house and next to theirs. I could see their movement through the front windows, all three of them.