Hairwolf

“I can see the stars on my ceiling. . .” Stef is five years old, in her bed, looking at her bureau. “There’s my doll, my ballet trophy and alarm clock. My clothes are folded on a chair next to several suitcases. That’s odd. There’s cardboard boxes everywhere. It’s like we’re moving.”

She rolls over with eyes back on the ceiling. She takes a quick glance outside the closed window. Leaves flutter in a tree just outside the window. A white curtain sheer fluffs from the evening breeze entering the room.

Her eyes fall back onto her ceiling as the man enters. She closes her eyes as he sits on the bed next to her. He reaches out to her pajama top and starts unbuttoning the bottom button.

The woman enters, asking, “What are you doing?”

“Checking for wounds.”

Five-year old Stef steels a peak at her, opening her eyes ever so slightly. She’s wonderful. Long straight hair, pulled into a quick bun with fallen strands that frame her face. Her cheek bones sit high with a natural rosy saturation to them. Her eyes are deep blue and would be filled with confidence if this were a different day. Today they’re filled with sorrow and sadness.

“I already checked her,” Elise says, stepping up to him. “After the shower. I’m sorry, I forgot to tell you.”

He buttons her back up and rests his hand on her tummy. He’s visibly distraught and unsure if what they’re about to do is the right thing. Elise pulls his head into her stomach, temporarily arresting his stress. She then leans down and kisses him on the forehead.

Steffy knows she’s supposed to be asleep but she can’t help looking at them. She watches as Mark, her daddy, covers his eyes with his hands, fighting back tears.

Elise, a pillar of strength, comforts him, struggling with her own emotions. Stef watches through slightly closed eyes. Something is tragically wrong here.

Elise pulls the blanket over Stef’s stomach. She kisses her finger tips and gently presses them onto Stef’s forehead, careful not to wake her. She then removes a pendant from around her neck, an

Egyptian Ankh and gently pulls it down over Stef’s head and lays it on her chest. This is a very hard time for both of them. Both fight back tears.

Mark reaches out to her, but she has to leave the room.

He follows her out, “Elise, honey.”

“. . .No, Mark. We have to. It’s not about us anymore. She’ll be fine. I can’t say the same about us and I will not risk her life over it. She deserves a chance. A safe home. The Artists will give her that. Now hurry. Abigail’s waiting to take her over there.”

“What time is it?”

“We have an hour,” Elise says, checking her watch.

“Where’s . . . ”

“. . . I don’t know. Hopefully not here. Get her bags.”

Mark returns to the room and is surprised to see Steffy sitting on the edge of the bed, having listened to the entire conversation.

“Hi, sweetie. What are you doing awake?”

“Where are you taking me, Daddy?”

“You’re going to Abigail’s for the night, honey.”

“I don’t want to go!”

Mark approaches to comfort her but she runs to the window in protest. Mark’s eyes land on something behind her, outside the window, looking in. She turns, looking past her reflection in the glass to a disturbing figure clinging to the house, looking in. It’s Ominous wolf.

He’s younger. About twenty-five years of age. Half man, half wolf. The dark band across his eyes is as prominent as the protruding fangs he’s displaying. He’s transfixed on Stefanie. Mark,

without hesitation, grabs Stef and tosses her onto the bed. He spins back to Ominous, ready to

protect Stef.

Ominous disappears from view. Stef is frozen in fear, hiding behind her daddy. He checks

her quickly, never turning his back on the window or the threat. “Go to mommy, honey.”

There’s nothing from her. She wants to stay right where she is. It’s safe. She’s safe with her daddy.

“Elise . . .”

From downstairs, Elise shouts out - “Don’t you dare. You leave her alone. No! No! Mark. He’s coming back.”

“Steffy, go.”

“No!”

Just then, Ominous crashes through Stefanie’s bedroom window, rolling past Mark. Elise bursts through the bedroom door and suddenly, on the run, transforms into a werewolf and dives on Ominous. Her momentum drives them both out the window and out of view.

“Elise . . .” Mark grabs Stefanie’s things and scoops Stef from the bed.

“Mommy . . .”

“I know, baby. I know,” Mark says, racing her out of the room.

Stef buries her face into his shoulder, blackening out the night, the event and the session.

Later, Stef and Lillian walk slowly through the tall grass behind the motel. Lillian has her arm around Stef and is holding her close as they walk.

“I had it all wrong. I just . . .”

“You had what you had, Steffy. You can’t be blamed for that. What’d she look like?”

“She was beautiful, Lil. And he was everything you’d ever want in a dad. Why didn’t they take me with them?”

“I think that’s pretty obvious. They were trying to protect you. You weren’t a werewolf yet.”

“And leave it to me to think the absolute worse of them. I got to find them.”

The two take a seat in the grass, leaning their backs against each other, supporting each other.

“It sure answers a lot of questions,” Lillian says. “Except how she turned so fast. Like a switch.

What about Abigail Meyers? That was Ralf’s mom, right? She has to know something.”

“I’m letting their faces burn into my memory.”

Lillian rests her head on the back of Stef’s shoulders. Stef drops her head back, leaning it against Lillian’s. Her eyes are closed as she works in the tiny details of them both.

Meanwhile, along a deserted stretch of Maine highway, a warden inspects a wooded area on foot as Foster and Brizzbee pull up in their pickup truck. They exit to the warden. He points to a location in the woods. Something in the air causes the men to cover their noses. They walk up to the remains of a skinned black bear. It’s another careless waste of beast discarded.

Later that evening, Stef, Lillian, Brizzbee and Foster complete setting up the make-shift camp at the lake. A large cage sits away from the tent. It’s big enough to fit a moose comfortably. A portable wood burning stove pushes smoke out of an exhaust pipe, protruding from a four-person tent. Lillian and Stef collect bundles of firewood from the pickup and pile it outside the tent.

Brizzbee assembles cots and air-mattresses for the long night ahead. Foster prepares the rifle and the tranquilizer darts. As he does he takes time to reflect on what they’re about to do. They’re going to try and capture a werewolf. “This is crazy.”

“It is,” Brizzbee, says. “It’ll be even crazier if it works.”

“So Stef will be waiting in the cage as bait,” Lillian says, without skipping a beat on transferring firewood.

“We’ll be tucked in the truck,” Brizzbee says, having thought it out over and over. “Ominous enters the camp, looking for Stef. I shoot him with the tranquilizer, we let Stef out of the cage, put him in and wait till morning.”

“So who draws that straw?” Lillian asks, knowing the obvious answer. “The one that involves letting a werewolf out of a cage so you can put in another.”

“I was hoping it’d be you,” Stef says to Lillian. She knows you best.

“Yeah, me.”

“I’ll let you out,” Brizzbee says. “You should remember me. And if you don’t, then, I’d rather it be me than Lillian.”

“This isn’t going to work,” Stef says. “I have an idea.”

Later, Stef peers through the bars, commenting, “much better.” Lillian, Brizzbee, and Foster are in the cage looking out at Stef. They’re dressed for a long night, with the four-folded chairs, thermoses, and a pillow or two.

“I had something a little different in mind when I brought this up,” says Brizzbee, slightly dismayed.

“Didn’t we all, ”Foster says. “Just don’t lose the key.”

“This will keep you safe until you dart him. Then you can switch places.”

“I don’t know about this,” Brizzbee says.

“I don’t know how she’ll react to you,” Stef says. “And I can’t take that chance. You’ll be much safer in here than the truck. He could rip that truck to shreds.”

“If you don’t know how you’re going to react to us, how do you know how you’ll react to him?” asks Foster.

“I’m here as bait. What do I need to know? If he’s coming, he’ll find me. Oh, and most importantly, don’t interrupt me during my change?”

“Why?” Foster asks.

“I’ll be growing bone mass, muscle and fur. My jaw is going to sting and burn and my insides will

be on fire.”

“Good God,” he says.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling. She turns and heads towards the tree-line but Lillian calls out to her. Stef turns back, knowing her concern . . . “I’ll be alright, Lil.”

“That’s nice, but you’re not going to wear that god-awful fanny pack again, are you?”

“My step mother gave me that fanny pack.”

“She’s in Russia. She’ll never know.”

“I’m wearing it, this time just to piss you off.”

“It looks like a growth.”

“It serves a purpose.”

“What purpose?”

“Lillian...”

“Just humiliate me ...”

“...I’ll buy a new one this week – God almighty! I already agreed on a new outfit. One thing at a time.”

Brizzbee notices the moon cresting the cliff-face and brings it to the group’s attention. Then the haunting cry of a wolf echoes across the lake.

“It’s him. Ominous.” Stef says, slightly frozen in the direction. She rings her hands, nervously, trying to remember what she was about to do. She can’t focus. “Where was I?”

Foster exits the cage and crosses to her. “Hey. I am not going to let anything happen to you. We’re fully armed here and ready for him.”

Lillian exits the cage and goes to her. “What’s the matter? Oh my God, you’re scared to death. Give me a minute with her, Dave.”

Foster crosses to the shore with Brizzbee looking for movement on the other side.