"Been thinking of wearing a doggie backpack," I told him.
"Hard to put that on as a wolf by yourself," he replied.
Instead of answering, I started shifting my body. It's natural for me to begin with my feet when I'm doing a total shift. Concentration and practice, which my dad had insisted upon as he taught me, were essential for changing just part of yourself. I focused on my shoulder, making me look for a moment like a misshapen creature right out of some horror movie, before going on to my hand.
Mom had insisted on teaching me animal anatomy, which is very different from human anatomy. She'd been the best vet in the area. How often had she drilled me on this? I could hear her gentle voice explaining how joints on four legs work at different angles. So, shift shoulder, elbow ... ehh ... keep human wrist, get a combo of paw and fingers ... I went back to full human.
"Working on it," I told Running Elk.
From the look on his face, Running Elk was trying not to throw up. I didn't say anything more, giving him time to settle his stomach.
"How's it working?" he finally asked, glancing at the silver orb above us. "Aren't werewolves supposed to change under the light of the full moon?"
"You've watched too many movies," I laughed. "Moon's irrelevant for shifting. Moonlight, however ... Well, wolves don't see as people do. Moonlight during a full moon is almost like daylight, only better. It makes things gleam, almost like having night vision. Mom loved the moonlight."
Another silence. Just bringing up my mom made things awkward. And here I thought I hadn't wanted to deal with it yet. Running Elk shifted his position a bit, and the silence got uncomfortable again.
"Did she know what your dad was before she married him? Or did she find out he was a ... a ... "
Poor Running Elk couldn't even get the word out this time.
"Werewolf," I supplied, trying to suppress my grin. Running Elk was looking uncomfortable enough as it was.
"She knew and loved him anyway," I told him. "Dad always said mom changed who he was and how he looked at life. Kind of a twist on the whole werewolf thing, hmm? Especially considering he changed her."
Another long pause. I lifted my head, trying to get anideaifDad was close. The singing ended a while ago. I wondered if I would see my mom again tonight, or if she had gone back across the River of Life.
"Keeping the name miniature wolf?" my cousin asked.
I had thought about changing my childhood name now that I was an adult. I often felt like there was an important name waiting for me to discover and claim. It wasn't that rare for someone to switch their name as life happened. Key personality traits, some events in your life that separated you from everyone else; many things influenced who you were and who you were becoming. Altering your name was a reflection of that.
I leaned back, a half-smile playing on my lips as I remembered the first argument I had with my dad. I wanted to be my own person, complaining about how I was tired of his strict rules and training. Mom had intervened, placing a gentle hand on both of us.
"Our son is growing, and the man in him wants to come out just as the wolf does, " she had said to Dad. Then Mom turned to me. "You will always need guidance and advice all through your life, no matter how old you get. You will always be my miniature wolf, and I will always be here for you."
I knew Mom got it, that Dad couldn't keep treating me like I was still a kid. As I came into my manhood, I wanted to honor her. I liked the way she had described it, the man wanting to come out. Mom knew I couldn't stay. I wanted her to know how much I appreciated her. I wanted her to know every time she spoke my name, I would never be too old for my mom. It hurt to know she would never speak my name again.
"Mom ... " my voice choked.
It was the only answer I could give Running Elk. It was enough. Running Elk knew the bond between my mom and I was practically tangible. She was the epitome of her name, River Woman. She had been like a deep running river, not some meandering creek. Smooth and gentle, serene, yet she had a deep current that could pull you out of any funk, any tantrum, anything, and make you go with her flow.
And here she was. Kind of. Maybe she was my spirit guide, even if it wasn't the way Grandfather meant. I felt better, relieved, yet at the same time decidedly weirded out by the whole concept of ghost mom.
A wolf howled in the distance- nothing urgent, just someone letting their pack know they found something of interest.
I smiled. "Sounds like our new neighbors might have found a suitable den." I got up and stretched, a prelude to changing my form. "Think I'll go take a look. The other wolves shouldn't bother you now."
Running Elk stayed where he was, not saying anything. I started to alter my body, thought the better of it for a second, and turned back to him.
"We good, Cuz?"
I had to have that reassurance that my human cousin, who was more like a brother to me, still felt that bond between us. He studied me for a moment. His slight smile was a relief.
"Always good, Cuz," he said.
I grinned back and shifted as I do for running; feet first, legs and torso happening so fast, shoulders, focus on front paws hitting the ground. The faster the shift, the less focus on the body as bones and joints readjusted, as muscles stretched and bunched, conforming to their new parameters. The wolf dealt with pain differently than man. A moment later, I had four paws scratching the dirt as I stretched. I paused to look back at Running Elk.
He looked thoughtful. "Still good, Cuz," he said softly.
There was something ... I kept looking at him until I realized what it was. His eyes held new knowledge now, no longer naive. Innocence lost, in a way.
I smiled back, tongue lolling, realizing just how much I loved my cousin. Another short howl had me turning both my ears and my head out of instinct to pick up the most from the sounds. The old silvering grey was inviting his pack to join him in a small hunt.
A glance full of joy and wolfish laughter at my cousin, then I was gone, off to find Dad and hopefully get another glimpse of Mom. I had a desire that wasn't there before; to enjoy what remained of this special, silver-tinged night.
Loping back toward home in the predawn darkness, shoulder to shoulder with my dad, gave me a sense of comfort and completeness. We Had connected up during the night, getting to know our new neighbors. Dad and I had left the new pack behind, the two of us mock-fighting, hunting for small game and playing together.Dad and I were so close physically that our shoulders or sides touched most of the time. We would part for the occasional leap over an obstacle then come back together again, both of us needing that closeness. We had the same pace, and similar heights now. Dad was still huskier than me, and I was a bit taller in the shoulder than him. I could only hope that we would be closer emotionally as well. I know he loved me, but the last year, especially the last few months, had been hard and lonely with Mom gone.Our home was on the outskirts of our little community, right up against a stand of trees. Dad led the way along the row of bushes to the opening in the crawl space under our
"Glasses," he commanded, motioning with his chin while his hands opened the mustard.I could tell by the glance he gave at the empty sink he realized I hadn't bothered using a glass while drinking down the carton. I could almost hear what Mom would say every time she thought I was sneaking a drink without using a glass. Dad was silent as he gave the milk a quick sniff to make sure it hadn't spoiled.He emptied the last of it into the two glasses I set on the counter."I'll go shopping once the stores open," Dad said.There was a pause, with closed eyes on his part, as if he was pulling himself together still. When he opened them, he picked up the milk glass, raising it as if making a toast."Congratulations on getting a response from those many applications you filled out," he said.A slight smile like old times touched his lips before he hid his disappointment at me leaving him soon. I think he just realized he needed me as much as I needed him."I know you've worked hard. Which comp
I didn't feel like listening to another lecture, especially without Mom around to keep things from exploding between my dad and me. I also didn't want to lose the camaraderie my dad and I had tentatively found. He sounded tired and looked drained, but managed to pull on hidden reserves to get him through this.The way he was looking at me wasn't his usual condescending smirking glare, nor was it the demanding drill instructor, the no-nonsense-tolerated, stiff-ass attitude I often got from him when he taught me anything about being one with the wolf.It took me a second to realize he was going to try and speak to me like an adult, someone of equal standing. It's about time, I thought triumphantly. I took a breath and leaned forward a bit myself. I didn't trust myself to say anything other than, "I'm listening."Dad gave me a small, wane smile. I was sure his usual way of talking to me was ready to come out the second I acted immaturely enough, in his opinion, to blow it. His self-depre
"I don't hate you."A partial truth. He was my father, and I loved him. I just hated his ongoing sermons and training. He was a wolf living in a human world.I was a human who merely also happened to be able to live as a wolf. I grew up human, despite our family excursions as wolves. I was part of a deep and cultural human community. I had family beyond just him and mom. I was part of my mom's tribe, a connection with society Dad never had, and possibly, I realized, a connection he couldn't completely comprehend. I had an identity beyond being a wolf. I honestly couldn't see myself having any trouble out in the world.My dad was right about me sharing mom's desire to learn, and his too. Teacher he might be, but in his heart, Dad was an eternal student.Dad gave a little hmph as if he knew what I was thinking. He probably did, as often as we'd yelled it back and forth. But then Dad grinned a bit as he walked over and put his hand behind my head. He pulled on me until our foreheads met.
I took a moment while out of Dad's view to wince and rub my shoulder. I stuffed the very wrinkled bag in the back of my sock drawer without even looking at it. Peeling off the ripped shirt, I threw it in a corner. I had to bend over some to take a look at my shoulder in my dresser mirror. Touching it gingerly, I knew I was going to be sore for the next few days.No clean shirts left in my room, which meant nothing to hide the bruise that was working its way across my shoulder. I resented that grip but knew I wouldn't have stayed if it hadn't been there. And I had promised to listen.I demanded to be treated like a man and got more than I bargained for.His words about possibly becoming a rapist came back to me. He never said he had, only that the struggle in a crowded city was too much for him, how finding mom had been a godsend.I didn't want to ask, but at the same time, I was desperate to ask, to be reassured that my dad was who I always thought he was.It was my turn to try and st
The next day was more of the same, with Dad going out of his way to get me ready to be on my own. The first thing the following day was a long trip into the county seat to get a motorcycle added to my driving license. He insisted on a helmet, and I didn't argue.He also insisted on a trip to the mall while we were in town. He bought me one dress shirt and a few casual shirts so I'd have something other than my usual tees. We had lunch in the food court, where he instructed me to bring the wolf within me closer to the surface. Dad was leaning back, remaining casual, commenting on the various smells and sounds. I was glad it was mid-week and not too crowded.I felt like I was about to panic, freaked out by this new attitude he had. He and I had never really just hung together. It had always been my mom and me who took off to go places. It was hard to match his casual atmosphere and just chat about the wolf. It was hard to push down the rebellious teen I had been. I didn't know if I coul
Wolf.Man.The wolf I had just been was more wolf than I had ever been before. I felt confused and disoriented. I glanced at Dad as he eased the truck back on the freeway.I am a man. I knew I was! But…My body twitched, even though I had completed my transformation. My clothing felt constrictive. I tried to speak, but the words wouldn't form.Dad nudged the water bottle over until it bumped my thigh. I awkwardly managed to unscrew the top and take a sip. I didn't trust myself to put the cap back on. My eyes followed my fingers as they moved. It was like I didn't know my own hand.I automatically turned when Dad sighed."Open the glove box."I pushed the button, and the small compartment door popped open. Inside was the usual assortment of papers for the truck, a small first aid bag from which many a bandaid had come when I was a kid, and the heavy leather pouch Dad called his emergency kit.I knew what was in it, and had seen everything there many times when we went camping. I pulled
The whoops and hollers we could hear had Dad smiling as we got out of the truck. When we were close enough to see the bonfire, he laughed and gave me a push to join my friends. It was the last all-out gathering before school resumed, and probably the last time I would see my friends for a while. I was leaving tomorrow.It had been strange with Dad; good, but strange. We had talked, really talked, long into the night after we got home. I asked him all those questions I wasn't going to ask, and heard all the answers I wasn't sure I needed.It didn't stop there. Early in the mornings, we talked about food and finances, domestic household stuff. Every day after we ran together in the woods, and often during our runs, we'd discuss the wolf. During workouts, we shared ideas about fighting and shifting. I found myself motivated to work out with him. I didn't mind the soreness or the fact I had more bruises than our workouts had ever given me.We filled our nights with stories of Mom from befo