Denn's Mobile Circus - 3. Chapter 2: The Mysteriously Inclined

I’d barely finished buckling my seatbelt when the lightheadedness came back like it forgot something. Everything around me started to spin slowly. I focused, trying to make it stop. Everything began to settle.

A hot flash plowed straight into me.

Focus = destroyed.

The world went back into its slow spin. Found that I didn’t really care. I was more concerned about why my body felt like it was suddenly in a sauna, with the heat just at the edge of tolerance.

I opened my mouth to try and say something about what was happening, but it wouldn’t move. I tried to move my arms and legs. They wouldn’t move either. I tried to open my eyes from halfway to full. They also chose not to comply.

Panic. It was officially time for it to begin.

Hot flash cut that announcement short.

The heat in the sauna jumped off the edge of tolerance and into the pit of sweltering.

The heat wasn’t like being outside on a hot day. It was coming from inside me. My bones. My muscles. My blood. My skin. I felt like a living furnace.

I don’t know how long the hot flash lasted. All I remember is that I was wishing I could strip down to my skeleton when a cold flash happened. It was pleasant. Soothing, as it cooled down my searing body. But it kept going. Kept going until I was so cold that, had I been able to chatter, I would’ve shattered my teeth.

Just as I thought I was going to freeze to death, another hot flash struck. It felt just as good to warm up as it had to cool down. But eventually warm-up became searing heat.

On that cue, the two flashes established a nasty little train on me. One would ride me to the breaking point in one direction, before the other would take over and ride me in the other direction to the same point.

During the peak of the seventh hot flash, three of my five senses snapped. Eyes couldn’t figure out if they wanted to be blurry or clear, whether they wanted to pick up every color in the spectrum or none at all. Ears would focus on one sound at a very quiet volume, then expand until I was hearing every square inch of every possible sound at screaming volume. Nose took a cue from the ears, focusing in on one smell with slight interest, before expanding until there were so many smells coming in at full power it formed scents I’d never sniffed before. Some were euphorically pleasant. Others were absolutely foul.

I don’t know when I did, but eventually I left my own party and passed out. I only knew I’d done it after my eyes opened back up.

What they saw put a brand new set of concerns on my mind.

I was no longer in the truck I’d gotten into. I was in a room. A bedroom to be exact. To my left was a wall, a doorway – which was shut – and a tall chest of drawers. As the wall resumed, there was a double-door closet, which took up most of the wall in front of me. To my right was more wall, with a long window-seated center.

Somebody was there at the window.

I could see part of their back. The bedcovers were conveniently in the way, keeping me from seeing more.

Very slowly, I started to lift my head.

The person at the window turned to look at me.

I froze.

“Oh shit, it does live!” they said.

That voice…

I knew it.

I lifted my entire body up. No bedcover in the way of my line of sight anymore, I could clearly see the face of the person speaking to me. That hit me just as hard as the voice.

“…Kev?” That’s who it looked, and sounded like.

“Last nigga on earth you expected to see, huh?” he responded.

The very last.

Sixteen years was how long it’d been since I’d seen him. He’d gone into the service at age eighteen. Swore up and down, until that point, that he would never do it.

“Army ain’t no place for a black man,” he would always say.

After he went into the service, I never saw him again. He never came home during the holidays. But, he would call. He never came home for his, Myron’s, or his mother’s birthdays. But, he would call. He didn’t even go to Myron’s high school graduation.

Whenever Myron would ask him why he didn’t come around anymore, Kev always answered “If you become a soldier, you’ll understand.”

We figured that meant he was out fighting in wars and helping people, so it didn’t leave him time to come home, and left it at that.

Kev’s absent years had filled his body out with more muscle. His face was still youthful. The short and well-kept goatee was the only facial hair present. The hair on his head, which was in a short natural last time I’d seen him, was close cut.

“How you feelin’?” he inquired.

It dawned on me that the paralysis that’d been over my body was gone. So were the hot/cold flashes. My senses were also back from their trip. I felt “Normal again,” I answered.

“Body temp is good too?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. The specificness of the question had not gotten past me. “How did you know that?”

“Because, I’ve been through it.”

Surprise rode through and dropped off its rent money.

“What do you mean?” I inquired.

“Remember when I went into the service?” Kev responded.

“Yeah.”

“Which branch did I join?”

“The ar –”

Realization called, reminding me that there was never a definitive answer given when it came to which branch he’d joined. It was always just ‘the service’.

“You never went into the military, did you?” I asked, wanting to make sure the theory was sound.

“Like I said way back when, army ain’t no place for a black man,” Kev confirmed, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray that was sitting on the windowsill.

Didn’t even notice he’d been smoking.

“Then, you know what’s happening to me?” I tested further.

“Yes, I do. It’s called Transition.”

“Transition?” I was familiar with the word, but… “What do you mean? Transition to what?”

Kev sighed and looked away from me.

I knew that sigh.

It’d been sixteen years, but I still remembered it.

He was about to tell me something heavy.

“What if I told you that you’re not human?” He didn’t disappoint.

My mind flashed back to the empty house, just before the brawl with the fat woman, when the boy asked her what she was. Her answer had been “Same thing as you, sweet tea. Not human.”

In the beginning, I’d thought she was talking specifically to him.

Now that the brawl was over…

“I’d ask what am I, then?” I replied.

“You’re a werewolf.”

My mind flashed back to the brawl with the fat woman again. I remembered how there had been another mind inside me that’d taken over: how my voice had been different; how I’d done some very…interesting things that under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have been able to do.

Then, there was the boy.

His voice had been different too. And his eyes: blue when we first met, yellow, almost glowing, when I saw them next. Now that there was time to focus on the moment…I had to say his eyes had looked like wolf’s eyes.

“How did this happen to me?” I asked.

“You were born this way. Wolf spirit in a human body.”

That was new to my werewolf lore. The movies I’d seen and the books I’d read never referenced any of what I’d just heard.

“How is that even possible? Wouldn’t an animal spirit be incompatible with a human body?” I inquired.

“Now you’d think that, right? But then, we have a thing like Transition,” Kev answered.

“Which is what, exactly?”

“The process where your mind and body fall in line with your spirit.”

Pause…

“Don’t all three need to be in line in order to exist?” I asked.

“That’s a talk for another day. All you need to know right now is that your spirit is awake,” Kev responded.

I had to disagree.

“What I need to know right now is everything.” I pressed the issue.

“And you will. But too much too soon’ll have your head spinnin’ around worse than it was earlier.”

“Try me,” I invited.

“Trust me,” he resolved.

“You mean like we trusted your ass to finally come home one day, soldier?” I thought it, and my mouth spoke it before I had the chance to proofread it.

Kev pulled back a bit.

“That was not my fault.” He shook his head. “If I could’ve come home, I would’ve.”

“And what stopped you?” I was curious.

“You weren’t a ‘soldier’ yet.”

“Which makes a difference because?”

“There are rules when it comes to kids born from werewolf/human relationships. One of them is that we can’t be told what we are until we hit Transition.” Kev answered.

“Why?” That sounded kind of dumb to me.

“Better for our development mentally not being split between the two worlds.”

“Don’t see how. I mean, if I knew what I was, and what was going to happen from the start, I’d be good right now.”

“Hey,” Kev held up his hands. “I felt the same way. But I’m not the one who made the rules, so don’t shoot me.”

“Then point me in the right direction, because that’s some bullshit.”

“Won’t get an argument out of me about that.”

I was about to speak more on that topic when a late-freight concept sped into my brain.

Werewolf/human relationship…

“Who were the werewolves in the relationships that made us?” I inquired on the concept.

“Our fathers,” Kev answered. “Our mothers were the humans.”

Answer to concept confirmed.

“Did our mothers know what they were?” I inquired further.

“When a kid comes into the picture is one of the few times a werewolf is allowed to tell, and show, a human what they really are,” Kev answered.

My mother’s voice echoed in my head, telling me the answer to the question of why she and my father weren’t together anymore.

“That’s why he went his way and we went ours. It was too much for her.” I figured.

“Knowing what he was wasn’t too much for her,” Kev corrected. “It was some of the things that came with him being what he was that she, as a human, couldn’t understand. Those things are what eventually make all humans in a werewolf/human relationship walk away.”

I shook my head.

“So they were doomed to fail before things even got started.” I understood it.

Kev nodded.

“It’s like some shit Shakespeare wrote,” he agreed.

“But our fathers knew that, right? They knew how it would end?” I assumed.

Kev nodded again.

“But even werewolves can’t control who they fall in love with,” he said.

I was about to respond when realization dropped on me like a ton of bricks.

“Wait…our mothers knew what we were, didn’t they?”

“Yeah.” Kev nodded.

“But, let me guess, they couldn’t say nothin’ ‘til we hit Transition?”

“Bingo.”

“Wow…” I shook my head. “All that time, and Mama never said a word. How the hell did she keep a secret like that?”

“Very carefully, and with help.”

Help?

“What help?” I inquired.

“My mama. She was in the same boat,” Kev answered.

“But how did they know that?”

“Because your father and my father were brothers. That’s how our mama’s met each other.”

Mouth fell to the ground.

“Shut the fuck up!” I was beyond surprised.

Kev chuckled.

“Puts a whole new perspective on things, doesn’t it?” he said.

“Hell followed by yes,” I agreed. “I mean…no wonder they were so close.”

“Like sisters.”

Sisters.

Realization dropped another load on me.

“Wait…hold up…me and you are cousins,” I spoke what it dropped.

“I was wonderin’ how long it was gon’ take for you to catch that,” Kev confirmed. “And yeah, we are. Me, you, and Myron, partner.”

“Myron,” his name came out as a whisper.

He hadn’t even walked into my mind, until now.

“He’s gon’ trip when he finds out you’re here,” Kev said.

“Is he here?”

“Nah. He’s in O.K.C right now with his Pack, doin’ the same thing we are with you for their newest Packmate.”

“Oh?” That surprised me. “You mean you two aren’t in the same ‘Pack’?”

“Nah. Nine times out of ten, siblings don’t wind up in the same Pack.”

“Oh,” I jeered. “That sucks.”

“Yeah. But it’s not like we still don’t see each other.”

“What about us? Are we in the same ‘Pack’?”

Kev shook his head.

“I was hopin’ you would be. But no,” he answered.

“Oh.” I didn’t even try to hide my disappointment.

“But it’s okay, man. The Pack you are a part of is a damn good one. They also happen to be like family to my Pack. That’s one of the reasons ya’ll are here and not in another place.”

Kev took his half-smoked cigarette out of the ashtray on the windowsill and put it into his mouth.

“Let’s go outside and have a smoke. We can talk some more there,” he suggested.

He couldn’t have made a better one.

“Now that sounds good –” I started, before I realized, “How’d you know I smoked?”

Kev tapped his nose.

“I can smell it on your clothes.”

“For real?” I didn’t quite believe him.

“Like every other nigga out there, you smoke menthols. Last cigar you smoked was grape. Probably one of them Swisher Sweets.”

It’d been a week since I’d smoked that.

And he was also right about the type of cigarettes I smoked.

“So werewolves do have enhanced senses?” My lore seemed to have that right.

“That we do,” Kev answered. “Shoes are at the edge of the bed, if you want ‘em.”

I got up, noticing I was still in my work uniform, and walked around to the front of the bed. I grabbed my shoes and slid them on. I’d worked the shoestrings so that I didn’t have to keep untying and retying the shoe every time I took it on or off. Found I could get a shoestring to last longer that way. With those on, I followed Kev out of the room.

Beyond the room was a hallway. Kev hit a right turn, so I did too. We were looking at a closed door not too far away on the left, and the front door straight ahead. As we started to walk down the hallway, the left door came open and someone stepped out. I recognized that someone instantly. It was the boy who’d brawled alongside me against the fat woman.

His clothing was now a pair of gray sweatpants and a white wifebeater. He’d ditched shoes and socks and was barefoot. A pair of black earbuds were in his ears, and he was absolutely feeling whatever he was listening to. His head bobbed along with the beat and he was mouthing the lyrics. He closed the door and started to walk before he looked up and noticed me and Kev.

“Oh shit!” He snatched his earbuds out of his ears. “You’re awake!”

The surprise and excitement on his face, and in his voice, made me ask, “Is this breaking news?”

“Uh…yeah! You shouldn’t be up for another week at least,” he replied.

I looked to Kev for confirmation.

“We’ll talk about it outside,” he said.

“Yes, we will,” the boy remarked, starting to turn toward the front door.

“You need to go lay down. It’s late and you know we got shit to do tomorrow,” Kev said to him.

The boy halted his turn and reversed it.

“Aw c’mon. I’ll sit quietly and just listen.” He bargained.

Kev gave him a look that contradicted that.

“Yeah. All right. I won’t sit quietly,” the boy admitted. “But I’m still going.”

“Then I guess you wanna sleep in the backyard tonight?” Kev caused him to halt and reverse his turn again.

A look came to the boy’s face that spoke resentment.

“Oh, it’s like that then?” he jeered.

“It’s out there waitin’ on you right now. Remembers how much you liked it before.” Kev didn’t relent.

The boy gave a ‘God, you get on my nerves’ sigh, and an eye-roll to go with it. His attention then fell on me.

“Joseph-Carter,” he introduced himself, extending his hand out to me.

“Micahel,” I introduced myself, shaking his extended hand.

“Well, Micahel, you were badass when it came to that fat bitch back at that house.” He nodded. “Would hump your leg now, but…as you heard…I got shit to do tomorrow.”

On that note, he put his earbuds back into his ears, went back into his zone, and took his leave down to the opposite end of the hallway.

Couldn’t help chuckling. Half of it was because of the exchange with Joseph-Carter. The other half was because of what Kev threatened him with.

“Did you actually make him sleep in the backyard?” I asked Kev.

“Sure did.” Kev nodded. “Just like my mother did to me that time.”

Could not, and would never, forget that night.

It was the night Kev thought it would be a good idea to assert himself against his mother. At fifteen, he was taller than Miss Trina. He was more muscular than Miss Trina. He’d washed dishes four nights in a row. It was her turn.

What Miss Trina had done was a complete shock to my eleven-year-old brain.

“Since you can’t get no job, how did I tell you you pay rent here?” Miss Trina began.

“Chores.” Kev rolled his eyes.

“Well, your rent is due. And since you don’t want pay it, you’re being evicted. You sleep outside in the backyard tonight. We’ll renegotiate the terms of our contract tomorrow.”

With that, Miss Trina sent her eldest son out into the back yard without a blanket or pillow. His bed had been one of six lawn chairs. Each of them was the type a person sat in and could not recline. The back door was locked and the light turned off. Me and Myron were ordered not to let him in.

The next day after school, while he was washing the dishes, Kev told me and Myron how bad it’d been spending the night in the back yard.

“That’s the last time I mess with Mama when it comes to the rent,” he decided.

And indeed it had been.

“I will never forget that shit.” I shook my head.

“Neither will I.” Kev nodded, starting the walk again.

We reached the front door. Kev opened it and stepped out. I followed and shut the door behind me. We’d walked out onto a large rectangular concrete slab. Beyond that was a pretty big fenced-in yard. To the right, and up ahead, was the back of another house. A group of plastic chairs sat out in the yard in front of the house we’d exited. Two were occupied. I recognized the occupants as the black male and female from the truck I’d gotten in to earlier.

“Well I’ll be damned.” The female smiled in mine and Kev’s direction. “Look who’s up.”

“Oh, you doubted me?” the male said to her.

She held up her index finger and thumb. A tiny space was measured between their touching.

“Little bit,” she replied.

He gave her a playful nudge in the side. She shooed him off in the same way.

“This beautiful specimen of a woman is Brendi,” Kev introduced the female as we walked up to join them. “And that nigga over there is Denn.” He gave a nonchalant point to the male.

“Ain’t even walked out the house good and already talkin’ shit,” Denn remarked.

“I can do that. Because everything on this property, including the backhouse you stayin’ in, is owned by me. Do I need to show you the deed again?” Kev sent back, taking a seat next to Denn.

Denn looked over at him.

Kev smiled.

“Umph.” Denn glanced away, sounding unimpressed.

“That’s right.” Kev nodded.

I couldn’t help chuckling to myself. Kev hadn’t been lying when he’d said the Pack I was to become a part of was like family to his. He didn’t act this way in front of just anybody. It was usually only reserved for family and his ‘boys’.

“Please excuse them. I swear to God I can’t take ‘em nowhere.” Brendi regarded Kev and Denn, before her attention went to me. “It’s nice to meet you, Micah.”

She extended her hand out to me.

“Nice to meet you too.” I reached for it and shook it.

“I bet you have a lot of questions,” Denn said, extending his hand to me.

“Hell yes,” I answered – nicely – as I shook his hand.

I took a seat next to Kev and reached into my right pocket for my cigarettes. They weren’t there. I checked my left pocket. Also not there. Then, I remembered.

“Damn! I left my cigarettes in my car!”

“Don’t worry. We can spot you some,” Kev said, reaching into his pants pocket.

He took out what looked like a pack of cigarettes. There was no brand name on it. It was just a blue-colored box. Opening up the pack, he took one out and handed it to me.

“Appreciate it,” I thanked him, taking the cigarette and noticing it was wrapped in blue paper.

It wasn’t nearly as bright as the shade that was on the box. There was no brand name on the paper and it didn’t have a filter. Reminded me of Lucky Strikes. First type of cigarette I ever smoked.

“Where did you get these from, the swap meet?” I said to Kev.

Him, Denn, and Brendi fell out laughing.

“I can take the shit back if you don’t want it.” Kev reached for the cigarette.

“Oh, it will get smoked.” I pulled it away. “Just as soon as you tell me this thing isn’t laced.”

“No lace of any kind. Now shut up and put it in your mouth.”

“Yeah…all right.”

I put the cigarette between my lips. Kev had already put up his pack and had a lighter out. He lit the lighter and let me light my cigarette.

“Thanks,” I said.

I took a long drag on. I exhaled slowly, thoroughly enjoying the buzzy, tingly rush as the nicotine hit my system. I noticed it was stronger than usual. I also noticed that the way my body was relaxing at having its fix was different. It was a way less associated with nicotine and more associated with THC.

There was also the taste. To my palate, cigarettes came with two types of: smooth, with a nice menthol taste, or harsh, with a nasty alkaline taste. If it was a so-called ‘flavored’ cigarette, it was only the wrapping paper that smelled like the flavor. I’d never had a cigarette that smelled fruity and actually tasted fruity.

“This shit is laced, isn’t it?” I refused to take another puff until I had the truth on that.

“I already told you it’s not laced. The tobacco in these is just grown and cultivated differently from the way humans do it. The paper they’re in is also different,” Kev answered.

“Then what’s the name of the cigarette?”

“They don’t have a brand name if that’s what you mean. We just call ‘em Blues.”

Kev took a pull on his and exhaled.

“And why would I give you some shit that was laced at a time like this?” He raised a very good point.

So good, I didn’t even have a counter. So I shut up and took a second drag off the Blue.

“Thank you,” he acknowledged.

I exhaled and felt the effects all over again as if I’d just taken my first puff. That didn’t happen with normal cigarettes.

“So, what is this? A ‘werewolf’ cigarette?” I inquired.

“As the matter of fact, they are,” Denn answered me.

I was actually trying to be a smartass, but… “Werewolves have their own cigarettes?” I was serious now.

“How do you like it?” Kev answered.

I took a third drag, and was surprised when it felt just as good as the first.

“I like it a lot.” I exhaled.

“Knew you would.” Kev nodded.

“So what was Joseph-Carter talking about back in the house?” I was ready to start the questions.

“First, let’s start with what happened at your job,” Denn suggested.

“Yeah.” I did like that starting point better. “What was that all about?”

“That was called a Blackout. It’s when your wolf spirit wakes up for the first time.”

“But why then? Why there?”

“On a scale of one to ten, how great was your day going before that woman threw her drink on you?”

Barely holding onto a two.

It’d started with the after-breakfast crowd when a little boy decided to take a piss in the ball-pit on the playground. I caught sight of him doing it through the window. Our restaurant was behind the times, so our playground was still outdoors. I’d had to put my customer on hold and run out there.

He was still going when I got out there to deliver the stop order. Kid’s parents had been sitting outside. My focus had been strictly on the kid, so I hadn’t noticed them until one of them spoke up.

Both were a pair of young’uns on the cusp of twenty. The mother had the nerve to tell me not to talk to their son the way I had. I hadn’t cussed at him. I’d simply, and sternly, said “You stop peeing in that ball-pit, right now.”

I’d already radioed Suzette at the second window, before going out to the playground. I’d been working the first window of the drive thru, plus a register out front. Suzette informed Miranda at some point. Miranda came outside at the perfect time. Little kid had just finished his piss, while I’d been distracted by his irresponsible parent(s).

Miranda asked for the mother and father’s IDs, so we could have their name and picture. This was the first step in the procedure for adding someone to the ban list. When both mother and father refused to give up their IDs, Miranda proceeded to the next step. She told them they were banned from the restaurant for vandalism, and that they needed to leave immediately.

The father asked how what their kid had done qualified as vandalism. Miranda explained it to them. The father of the little pisser had the nerve to say that urine was sterile. So Miranda told him “Then, sir, why don’t you go take a dive in there?”

Mother took over at this point and tried to get loud. Miranda warned them that if they did not leave, the police would be called. This seemed to get the father’s attention. He called to the kid and told him it was time to go. Mother, on the other hand, invited Miranda to call the police.

“I’ll tell them how your employee harassed my son!” she shot back.

“My employee did not harass your son. He reprimanded him. Which is what both of you should’ve been doing.” Miranda kept her cool.

I would find out later how she knew what I’d said to the kid. Travis had been outside changing one of the trashcans and heard me.

Mother switched the conversation to Spanish. She’d told the father of the kid “Don’t leave. How are they going to charge a little kid with vandalism?”

“Because parents are responsible for the actions of their children, when they’re as young as yours. So he won’t get charged with this. You will. Right now, I’ve got vandalism, non-compliance, and negligence. What else do you want to add to that?” Miranda answered.

Told it to them en espanol.

Hurray for a white girl who was quiet fluent in Spanish.

The quickness in which mother and father packed up their pissy kid and vacated was unbelievable.

Me, Suzette, and Travis were the ones that had to go out and not only empty the ball-pit, but sanitize it after all the balls were out. That had taken a good two hours. My first customer after that was an older gentleman, who went off on me for giving him a tarnished penny as part of his change. He was a ‘Vietnam veteran’ and took that as a sign of disrespect toward his status. I had no idea why it was a sign of disrespect. He never explained why.

The ‘Vietnam veteran’ was replaced ten minutes later by a pair of high school-aged boys who thought it would be a good idea to try lying to me when I gave them back their change. They’d given me a ten. Tried to say they’d given me a twenty. Benefit of the doubt might’ve been extended if I hadn’t been looking right at the bill when they’d given it to me.

I’d told them that.

Persisted they did.

I indicated one of the cameras and offered to take them back and show them they’d given me a ten.

Situation got dropped like Rosemary’s Baby.

Twenty minutes after that, the fat woman came along.

“How did you know that?” The preciseness of question had not been missed.

“For a werewolf, intense anger, or fear, will trigger an un-involuntary Shift. If it happens during a werewolf’s Transition window, it’ll trigger the first Shift, aka, Blackout,” Denn answered.

“When you say Shift, you mean change, right?” The term was not unfamiliar to my lore.

“Yes.”

“So, if that was my first Shift, why didn’t I change into a wolf?”

“Because we don’t turn into wolves.”

Lore = slapped all across the face.

“Then what the hell kind of werewolves are we?” That came out sharper than I wanted it to.

“Real ones.” Kev chimed in. “And speaking realistically, a transformation like that would kill a nigga. Think about it for a minute.”

“But shouldn’t we be built for that? I mean, wolf spirit, human body…”

…Wow.

Didn’t even take a minute.

“Wolf spirit in a human body,” I recalled. “So, you meant that literally.”

Kev nodded.

“Now, there are some things that do change when we Shift, like our eyes, our voices, our fingernails, and certain teeth. But those changes don’t take place when it comes to Blackout,” he explained.

“How many Blackouts does a werewolf have?” I inquired.

“Only one. The thing you had at the trash was a Brownout. If you Shift after you wake up from that, your eyes and voice will change.”

That answered the question I had about what’d happened back at the empty house.

Almost.

“Are you also supposed to feel like another mind takes over you?” I inquired.

“Yes.” Denn nodded. “That was your spirit you felt.”

“Does it hijack the werewolf’s body every time they Shift?”

Denn shook his head.

“Only during Brownout,” he answered.

“Hurray for small favors,” I sighed, glad to have that concern out of the way. “I just want to know how it was able to take over like that in the first place.”

“When your spirit first wakes up,” Brendi answered. “It’s an intense experience for your mind. When Blackout happened, your mind was in a state of shock. It recovered when you woke up, then, slipped again when you had the Brownout. When you Shifted after that, your mind was strong enough to keep you coherent, but not strong enough to keep control.”

“And once I got inside the truck? What happened then?”

“That was called Hibernation,” she continued. “Think of it as your mind being finished with downloading all the new updates, so it shuts down to install them all, then it reboots.”

“How long does that usually last?”

“A week. Sometimes closer to two.”

I was about to ask how a person could sleep that long, without at least waking up to take a piss, when I remembered that when something hibernated the body – and all its processes – slowed down to a crawl.

“How long was I out?” I asked.

“Twelve hours,” Denn answered.

That was a far cry from a week or two.

“Is that normal?” It didn’t sound like it.

“Doesn’t happen every day, but it’s not unusual,” Denn replied.

Picked up on the evasion technique.

“Is it bad?” I inquired.

“You wouldn’t be out here smokin’ with us if it was,” Kev answered.

That was enough to put the concern at bay, but not at rest. I knew there was more. That there was something they weren’t telling me. The only reason I didn’t pursue the issue further was because I had other, more pressing, questions to ask.

“What can I expect from this Transition thing?” I asked the most pressing.

The process was broken down into four stages:

Awakening;

Bonding;

Unification;

and Totality.

Each stage had various steps that took place during them.

Awakening consisted of Blackout, Brownout, and Hibernation. Since I’d woken up from Hibernation, I was officially onto the second stage. Bonding.

Unfortunately, Bonding was the most difficult of all the phases of Transition. It was when something called the Pack Bond came into play.

Imagine if every person had a certain group of people that they were destined to belong to. For werewolves, this group of people was called a Pack. Unlike a clique, crew, or a gang, a Pack wasn’t something one joined and then left once they outgrew it, got tired of it, etc. A Pack was a family. It was for life. It was something that a werewolf couldn’t choose. It chose them.

Now imagine that through this Pack Bond these people were united in a deep way. So deep they could speak to one another with their minds. So deep, they could feel each other as if they were an actual part of them. So deep, that these people felt like they knew each other, and had always known each other, since the beginning of their existence.

The telepathic part, that was cool. The rest…

“No offense, but I just found out what your names are. Call me old fashioned, but I believe in getting to know somebody before connections start happening,” I spoke my mind.

“No offense taken at all.” Denn said. “To be honest, I think all of us would be confused if you didn’t feel that way.”

“…Really?”

“Really.” Denn nodded. “Everybody out here right now can tell you that this is the phase that makes you want to walk away.”

“Let the church say ‘amen’.” Kev remarked, raising his left hand into the air.

“Amen.” Brendi raised her hand up too.

The show of ‘church’ changed the way my ‘holy spirit’ was feeling. It brought back to mind words Kev said earlier.

“Because, I’ve been through it.”

I crushed out my Blue and tossed it into the coffee can that had been set out in front of us by whomever.

“I don’t think I’m ready for that part yet. Is there any way to slow this part down, or stop it?” I asked.

“No.” Denn shook his head. “You have to go through it, unfortunately.”

“But once it’s over, you do have options,” Brendi said.

“Which are?” I inquired.

“You can stay with us, or you can have your spirit put to sleep and you go off on your own way.”

“That doesn’t sound like a good thing.”

Brendi shook her head.

“It’s not. But it is an option,” she said.

“What would something like that do to me?” I asked.

“It scratches you out of the Pack Bond for life. But, it’ll also kill you in ten years.”

“…Oh?” That critically surprised.

“When she said have your spirit put to sleep…” Kev indicated Brendi “…she meant it in the kill tense. The process is slow, which is why it takes ten years to happen.”

“So…essentially it’s this, or a death sentence?” I concluded.

“More like it’s this, or suicide,” Brendi corrected.

Hadn’t thought about it like that until she said it.

“That’s fucked up.” I shook my head. “How am I supposed to get back to my life?”

“That depends on if you choose the ten year deal, or you stay with us,” Denn replied.

“If I take the ten year deal?”

“You finish Transition, have your spirit put back to sleep, we set you up with a place to live, a job, whatever else you need to get back on your feet. Then, we step out of your life and let you go.”

“And if I stay?”

“You let go of your human life. Your apartment. Your job. We take you in. House you, feed you, give you a job. Everything you need to start and maintain your new life,” he answered.

“And how do you do this?”

Denn chuckled.

“In case you haven’t noticed, you’re not the first werewolf Transition has happened to. We know this process. Might as well say we have programs for it,” he answered.

Concept shanked my werewolf lore critically.

“Yes. We’re a society. Not a bunch of wild muthafuckers runnin’ around actin’ like savages.” Kev knew where the shank had struck.

“Well, unlike you, I just woke up and found out I existed. So sue me if I mess up in school,” I remarked.

Him, Denn, and Brendi cracked up laughing.

I couldn’t help but laugh a little too.

Kev had retrieved his pack of Blues at some point earlier. He opened it and leaned it toward me, catching my attention.

“It’s tradition to chain smoke on the night you wake up from Hibernation,” he said.

“I can see why,” I said, taking my second Blue for the evening.

Once again, Kev gave me a light.

“Let’s put your mind on something else for a minute. Look around and tell me what’s different.”

“What am I looking for?” I asked.

“Just do it.”

I surveyed the entire yard and both houses. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“I don’t see nothin’,” I reported. “What am I supposed to be looking for?”

“How ‘bout some lights?” Kev answered.

I looked at the backhouse, the one me and Kev had come out of, and noticed its porch light was off. I looked at the back door of the main house and noticed the light wasn’t on there either. The only light being provided was coming from the moon chillin’ in half form in the sky.

But I could see just fine.

I took another survey of the backyard. Everything looked so vibrant and colorful. It was like I could see everything as if it were daytime, but instead of everything being bathed in a warm, golden light, it was bathed in a cool, silver light.

“It’s pretty, huh?” Brendi drew my attention to her.

“Yeah.” I nodded. “Why does everything look so different?”

“Your eyes can see in color at night, now.”

That wouldn’t have made sense to me at all if it hadn’t been for a report I’d done in the seventh grade. The report was supposed to be about the moon as a planet. Our textbooks already stated what the moon was like as a planet. We’d talked about it in class. We’d watched a few movies about it. I’d thought it was stupid to then write a report, stand up in front of the class, and repeat all the things we already knew.

I took a different approach.

“The freaks come out at night.” Was something Kev used to say whenever we were out and it was a full moon.

I checked up on that angle of things, via the library. Found out many superstitions about the moon. Found out about lunar cycles and their supposed effect on people. Somewhere in there, I found out that humans did not see in color at night. It had something to do with receptors in the eyes. There was a set that worked in daylight and another set that worked at night. The one that worked in daylight could see color. The one that worked at night could not.

That became the focus of my report. Moonlight was not daylight. Did people see things differently under moonlight? Did moonlight have a different effect from daylight on people? Deeper yet, did the moon have just as much of an effect on the Earth, and it’s people, as the sun?

Report got me my first “A” from a teacher who couldn’t see past the skin.

“This is fuckin’ crazy.” I didn’t usually cuss around people I didn’t know, especially a female, but…

“Knew you’d like it,” Kev remarked.

And I did. I spent the duration of my second Blue just looking around at everything like sight was the new thing to do. Nobody else said a thing.

With a second Blue down, I crushed it out, tossed it into the can.

From out of nowhere, a wave of fatigue swept over me.

“Where did that come from?” I meant to think it.

“What?” Denn asked.

“Just…tired all of a sudden,” my answer was followed by a good, long yawn.

“It might be like that for the next couple of days. First stage of Transition is pretty heavy on the body.”

I yawned again.

“I guess so,” I said.

Kev finished his Blue at that exact moment. He crushed it out and put it into the can.

“Let’s get you inside before it’s your ass out here sleepin’ in the yard,” he said, standing up.

I did the same.

“Guess we’ll be spending a lot of time together,” I said to Denn and Brendi.

“Unless you decide otherwise,” Denn said.

I sighed.

“Even if I don’t agree with what’s next on the agenda, I honestly can’t see myself choosing suicide,” I said.

“Well, you still got time to think about it,” Brendi said. “Meanwhile, we look forward to having you join us.”

“Very much so,” Denn added.

That said, Kev started toward the backhouse. I followed.

Stepping back inside gave me a view of what was down the other end of the hallway. Beyond the door that me and Kev had come out of earlier was another door on the opposite side. Further down, the hallway let out into what could’ve been a den or living room. Couldn’t see it too well with the walls from the hallway in the way. There was a dim light on in that direction.

Kev led me back to the room we’d started out in.

“We’ll have clothes for you tomorrow, unless you want to sport your work uniform every day that you’re here.”

“No, thank you,” I said. “But I think I’ll keep it around.”

“Why?”

I looked down at the black shoes, black pants, and up at the red T-shirt. The familiar logo stared back at me from its position on the upper right side of the shirt. The company name ran across the topside of both sleeves an inch above the ends.

“Nostalgia,” Was the best answer I could think to give.

“I understand completely.” He nodded. “Now, act like you ain’t seen a nigga in some years and come give me a hug, or shake my hand, or somethin’.”

Kev’s sudden turn cracked me up.

“Not that I was tryin’ to be rude.” I went over to him and decided on hug.

So did he.

“It’s good to finally see you again,” Kev said as the hug ended.

“Likewise.”

Kev chuckled.

“Still usin’ them white boy words.”

That took me back.

Kev had always teased me about being a skater. Said the white boys were seeping into me so deep that sometimes I even sounded like one of them when I talked. It hurt every time he did it. I had enough of that at school. I didn’t need it from my big play-brother too.

It was on one occasion, when I finally had enough and got up to walk out of his room, when he said “You know I’m just playin’ right? I’m sayin’ it to be funny. I ain’t sayin’ it to hurt you,”

“Too late.” I continued toward the door.

Kev stood up.

“Who’s been messin’ with you? Has somebody been messin’ with you about that?” he demanded in a tone I knew all too well.

The ‘protector’ tone.

The ‘protector’ tone tinted his voice if he even suspected that somebody was messing with me or Myron.

So I told him all about the ‘other hood’ kids.

From that moment on, Kev greatly reduced comments of that nature. But every now and then…

“Don’t hate because you ain’t got no culture,” I scoffed.

“Oh, is that what you call it?” Kev laughed.

“That’s what everybody calls it, but you.”

Kev pulled back.

“So I guess you wanna sleep out in the yard tonight?” He looked me up and down.

I came back: “Nigga, I wish you would make me do some shit like that, after the day I’ve had.”

Kev cracked up laughing.

Seeing him crack up made me laugh.

“Goddamn, I missed you.” Kev recovered.

“I missed you too.” Indeed I had.

Kev’s eyes looked away from me.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth sooner.”

“I understand,” I accepted. “At least you’re here tellin’ me now.”

If he hadn’t been, I knew things would’ve gone a lot differently from the moment my eyes opened up and discovered the bedroom.

“And like a case of herpes, you won’t be able to get rid of me ever again,” he said.

Horrible visual. Crack up laughing statement.

“So, bathroom is the door we saw Shorty walk out of earlier. Kitchen is down the opposite way to the right, in case you get thirsty or hungry,” Kev informed.

Another fatigue wave swept through me, announcing itself physically with a yawn.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to move in five minutes,” I said.

“Then, goodnight, and take this advice to sleep with you tonight. Transition is a bitch. But ride it out. Give the experience an honest chance, you know? And if you don’t want it when you get to the end, ain’t no love lost,” Kev advised.

“Might as well since I have to go through it anyway.” I figured.

“Good enough,” Kev chuckled and nodded. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight.”

Kev stepped out the room and shut the door behind him.

My first thought was to look for the light switch. That was when I noticed that there were no lights on in the room. The only light that was being provided came in through the window in the form of moonlight.

Another yawn tore through me.

It felt like my ability to stay awake was being snorted through a tube by a crackhead that hadn’t had a hit since the 80s and was trying to make a comeback.

Normally, I would’ve stripped down to my draws and got into the bed. Unfortunately, the bed I was about to get into wasn’t mine. Could never do that in a bed that wasn’t mine. So instead, I took off my shoes and socks, pulled the covers back, and got into the bed in my work uniform.

As the unexpected fatigue moved in to take me, one final thought crossed my mind.

“What a fuckin’ day this has been.”

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *