(Un)bidden

Mary slept in the room with me. She didn’t mind the floor, so I gave her the extra comforter and gladly took the bed. I slid under the covers, closed my eyes, and pretended I was back home. Despite everything that had happened, I slept well.

When I woke at first light, Mary continued to breathe softly from her place on the floor. I quietly used the bucket then went to the window. In the yard, several of the wolves slept on the ground while some already walked in and out of the trees. Those who wandered seemed bored, yet they didn’t stop to talk to one another or interact in any other way. I watched them for a while and noticed some studied the area. It seemed as if they were new here, like me.

One stopped and stared at a shed directly across from the main building where I slept. The small structure leaned at a precarious angle. Many of the cedar shake shingles had disappeared into the black hole that pierced the roof. However, the boards covering the walls seemed solid enough. As I studied it, I thought a few of those boards might help cover the broken windows in the main building.

“I smell…” Mary said suddenly, startling me. I turned and watched her sit straight up and sniff the air. “Pheasant. Good. I was getting tired of rabbit.” She stood and stretched. I heard her stomach growl and grinned at her.

We made our way down to the main room and found the pheasant roasting.

“Who brings the food?”

Mary shrugged. “They’re either hunting on their own and the first one here provides it, or they’re fighting for the right.”

The idea that they would argue about who could bring us food had me shaking my head. Why was that okay to do, but helpfully collecting grass was not?

I opened a can of green beans to eat with the bird and scooped half onto Mary’s plate. What I wouldn’t give for a bowl of Sugar Crisps.

We ate in companionable silence for several minutes before she spoke again.

“So what do you want to do today?”

“Start boarding up some of the windows, I think.”

“You know it’s summer, right?”

Since I’d left home, I’d watched spring change to summer, and with each passing week, I knew summer’s hold wouldn’t last forever. Just another reason to find somewhere to burrow in.

“Summer and sunny. But it’ll rain eventually and start getting cold. There are a lot of broken windows and no ladders. It’ll take time to get it done.”

She gave me a long look.

“Where’s your family, Charlene?”

Hopefully, safe where I left them, I thought. I finished chewing before I answered.

“Where I’m not.” I tossed the bones into the fire as she’d done the day before and went to wash my plate. Thankfully, she didn’t push for more of an answer.

“Some of the broken windows still have unbroken panes,” she said, coming up behind me. “Do you think we can take them apart and fix a few of the windows in some of the other rooms?”

“Sure.”

Someone knocked on the door. She handed me her plate. I washed it as she moved across the room and opened the door.

“We’d like to help,” a deep voice said.

I turned and glanced at the men who stood just outside. Their faces were familiar this time, and I recognized Anton from the day before. When his gaze met mine, he offered me a smile, which I automatically returned.

“Thank you for the offer,” I said. I wiped my damp hands on my jeans and moved closer to the door. “We need some of the boards from that shed over there.” I pointed in the general direction of the building since I couldn’t actually see it through them.

“Will you show us what you mean?” one of them said.

He wanted me to step out the door? I glanced at Mary. She nodded.

My stomach churned as the men parted to make a narrow path between their bodies. They waited, watching me closely as I hesitated, swallowed hard, and tried to obliterate my fear with logic. If they made a move toward me, I’d grab their wills and force them to stop. However, the thought of using my power like that didn’t reassure me. It disturbed me as much as the idea of going back outside. Yes, I’d used it like that before. But the situation at the gym had been different. I hadn’t put myself in that situation on purpose. I’d only used my ability instinctually. And I hadn’t hurt anyone.

If I wasn’t willing to use it here, where did that leave me? I couldn’t stay inside forever.

“Maybe you should give her a little more room,” Mary said.

She watched me just as closely as they did. I felt weak and stupid. Clenching my teeth, I took a deep breath and stepped forward.

They moved around me like gnats before a storm. I tried to ignore them as I made my way across the yard in the early morning light. Those still on four legs watched me with interest.

When I reached the shed, I found it was bigger than I’d thought. I glanced back at the main building and noted all the broken windows in the daylight. It was a good thing the shed was big; we would need many of the boards.

I scanned the men around me and patted one of the shed’s walls.

“These boards,” I said. “If you pull them off carefully so they don’t crack, I want to use them to board up some of the broken windows. Actually, if you can take apart the whole shed, I’m sure we can find a way to reuse all the wood.”

The men nodded, and Anton went inside the building.

“Don’t break the glass in the window,” Mary said from somewhere behind the men. “We want to reuse the unbroken panes, too.”

I was glad she’d followed. I stepped away from the building and heard the screech of nails pulled from dry wood. A board popped away from the wall, and I caught a glimpse of Anton before he moved out of sight again.

A younger man with light blonde hair stepped in front of me, stealing my attention.

“Is there anything else?”

“Um…” I tried to find Mary in the bodies crowded around me but couldn’t. The urge to start backing away took hold. Yet, I remained where I was. I didn’t have a choice. Another man stood behind me.

“Yeah,” Mary said, her voice floating around us. “The rest of you can go to the junkyard and look for useful things.”

The men shifted so I could see Mary. She reached through, wrapped a hand around my wrist, and pulled me out of their circle.

“Like what?” one asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Useful things. Like…a bathtub. She doesn’t wash in a stream.” She tugged me toward the main room’s door as she spoke.

“A bathtub?” I asked under my breath.

“Ask Winifred,” Mary said over her shoulder as she nudged me through the door. I wasn’t sure if she was telling me to ask Winifred or the confused men behind us, but as she quickly closed the door, I didn’t care.

I breathed a sigh of relief, turned, and threw my arms around her. “Thank you.”

She awkwardly returned the hug. “Wini suggested the bathtub.”

I pulled back, confused. “Is she listening to everything?”

“No. I’ve been talking to her, so she knows what they’re doing,” she said, nodding toward the closed door. “When they started crowding you, she suggested we send them to the junkyard since this place could use a few things, and you don’t like stealing. They’ll reach out to her, and she’ll help them figure out what’s needed.”

“How exactly does that work? Her connection to everyone, I mean. Is it like little mental strings that connect her to everyone?”

Mary was quiet a moment. “She says it’s like a two way radio. You just need to know the right frequency.” She gave me a puzzled look. “What’s a two way radio?”

I grinned. “Your head, apparently. It’s far out you can talk to her like that. But doesn’t it get a little noisy in her head?”

This time Mary laughed.

“No. It’s usually pretty quiet for her. We keep to ourselves unless there’s a problem our leaders can’t resolve.”

“Leaders?”

“Yeah. Men like my dad. Typically, heads of families. I don’t know if there are any non-family packs. Wait. Wini says there aren’t.”

I had no idea what she meant but didn’t ask any further questions. I didn’t want to know about their hierarchy. Not yet anyway.

“Let’s go start on the windows,” she said after I remained quiet for a moment.

We went upstairs, split up, and started looking for windows that had one or more whole panes left in them. Sometimes, just one of the four panes had a thin crack; those windows we left alone as they would still keep out most of the wind and rain. Usually, though, the glass was missing from at least one of the window’s four squares.

Any window missing glass, we removed altogether and brought the frames to the main room. There, we puzzled over how to remove the good glass without any tools. The cracked glaze that held each pane in place barely clung to the wood and was easy to pick away. But the little metal pieces stuck into the wood to pin in the glass were much trickier than the nails that had held the frames in. Mary had been able to pull the frame nails out with just her fingers.

“We’ll have to ask for help,” Mary said after trying to remove one. “I don’t have enough control to just change my nails or I could do it.” She glanced at the closed door. “You want to ask?”

I totally didn’t want to but moved to the door anyway. It opened with a creak and drew everyone’s attention.

A pile of neatly stacked boards lay on the ground to the right of the door. Anton was in the process of setting another on top and looked up at me. It relieved me that someone I knew was nearby.

“We need a hand for just a minute,” I said to him and stepped back.

One of the wolves in the yard softly growled as Anton stepped through the door. The men who had been removing additional boards from the shed stared at me. Did I sound too demanding?

“Um, thank you for your help,” I called. One of them nodded in acknowledgement, but they all appeared angry anyway.

I closed the door and nearly walked into Anton, who stood just behind me. I put my hands up to stop myself and almost touched his bare chest. He smiled at me, the glint in his eyes making me nervous.

“Uh…Mary can explain,” I said, motioning to Mary who watched us with interest.

He reluctantly went to Mary’s side and listened to her point out the tiny metal pieces he needed to remove without breaking the glass. He nodded; and as I watched, the nail on his first finger grew to a lethal point. He gently prodded the metal and worked it from the wood.

After he’d picked out all four, he scraped away the remaining chunks of glaze and removed the pane. He turned to hand it to me. His searching gaze and hesitant smile made me sad for him. Mary was right. They totally were trying to seek my favor.

“Thank you, Anton. Mary, if you want to work with him, I’ll get some more windows.” I left them and pretended not to notice his disappointed look.

He worked with us for the rest of the morning. By midday, we’d removed all of the windows from the second story and had salvaged enough whole glass for ten complete windows. Anton had replaced the glass and pressed the metal back into place while Mary and I reinstalled the frames. I made sure to fix the window in the main room first. When we finished, I thanked him again for his help and awkwardly walked with him to the door.

“Will you consider me?” he asked before leaving.

I met his hopeful gaze. He was good-looking and seemed nice. If we’d met in the real world and he’d stopped to talk to me, maybe my heart would have given a little kick. But we hadn’t, and I knew what he was. When I answered, I didn’t pretend to misunderstand him.

“I won’t consider anyone. My neck isn’t healed.”

His eyes drifted to my neck, and he gave a slow nod. “I would be gentle,” he said.

I didn’t say anything. Anything I had to say would upset him. He wouldn’t be gentle. No one could be when they intended to bite my neck. I bore eight puncture wounds already.

He gave me a last pleading look before he finally left.

Sighing, I went to help Mary sweep out the rooms with the restored windows.

“Do you mind if I keep sleeping in your room?” Mary asked when we finished the last one. Daylight was starting to fade and our makeshift brooms were wearing down.

“Not at all.”

In fact, I preferred it. I’d only known her a few days, and two of her kind had bit me; yet, I felt safe with her in my room at night.

Sounds of fighting in the yard woke me. It wasn’t yet light. When I sat up in bed, Mary flicked the lighter. She was sitting up, too. Our eyes met. Outside, the noises quieted.

“What was that?” I whispered.

After a moment, she shrugged and lay down again. The light went out. I stayed upright, listening. Nothing but silence remained outside.

Mary’s breathing slowed once more. Obviously, whatever had happened wasn’t important or worrisome to her. However, it took several minutes before I settled back on the bed.

I had no idea how long I lay there in the dark, but gradually the room began to lighten. Lying on my side, I watched Mary as she woke with a stretch on the floor.

“How can you sleep like that?”

“I’ve never slept any other way. We don’t have beds out there.” She glanced at the window.

Out there, where fights broke out in the middle of the night, where there was no protection. The warmth of my blankets wrapped around me, and I appreciated that I’d found this place. I’d slept outside often since leaving home, but I’d longed for something more permanent, somewhere I might belong. It was that longing, and the possibility of their understanding about my ability, that had me fixing windows when I wasn’t even sure I wanted to stay.

“Maybe they can find you a mattress or bed, too,” I said.

“That’d be nice, but I doubt they would be as willing to fetch me a bed as they were for you.” She grinned at me.

I didn’t want to think about their eagerness to please, so I changed the subject.

“What was that fight about last night?”

“This morning,” she corrected. “I don’t know. My dad wouldn’t say when I asked him. He just told me to turn out the light and go back to sleep.”

“You asked your dad? How?”

“The same way I talk to Wini. All leaders can talk to their pack members, just like Wini can talk to everyone.” Mary moved to the window and looked out. “The yard’s busier than it was yesterday. Come see. They’ve brought back a lot of stuff.”

I tossed back the blankets and joined her. She was right. More wolves and men milled in the yard below. Amidst them, items lay scattered about. I spotted an old claw foot tub, several wooden chairs, a tipped over table, a dresser with no drawers, and several other objects I couldn’t identify from the window.

“Want to go see?” she asked.

“I’ll join you in a moment.”

She nodded and left me. I pulled the bucket from under the bed and wrinkled my nose. I needed to figure out a better way to pretend this place had plumbing. It had been embarrassing emptying the bucket yesterday. Thankfully, Mary had shown me a back door.

Joining Mary in the main room, I asked her to help me pump some water. There, I washed my hands with the bar soap I’d set out from my bag and brushed my teeth.

“Winifred wants to know how your neck feels,” Mary said as I dampened the cloth with alcohol to dab on the healing marks.

“Still hot and tight.”

Mary nodded at my words and, after a worried glance at the door, frowned.

“What is it?”

“She said that a few of the males have contacted her asking when she means to return.”

I didn’t see why that would upset her. After all, Winifred had told them they couldn’t bite me without her permission. Of course they wanted to know when she would come back. Maybe the frown was because my neck still hurt. But why the look at the door? Was Winifred thinking of sending someone my way?

“I’m definitely not up for another bite if that’s what she’s suggesting.”

Mary shook her head. “She knows you’re not ready.”

A relieved sigh escaped me. Mary gave me a crooked grin.

“Come on. Let’s go see what they brought back,” she said, tugging me toward the door.

I reluctantly let her lead me.

As soon as the door opened, we gained everyone’s attention just like the day before. Many of the men stood possessively by some item or a pile of items. They all watched me closely as I followed Mary across the yard. She went to the bathtub first and stared down at it with a scowl.

“You wash in this?” she asked me with heavy skepticism.

I tore my wary gaze from the tense men and looked at the claw foot tub. Its porcelain coating had chipped in many places showing the cast iron beneath. It had a drain hole in the bottom, but no holes for faucets. Mud coated the entire thing.

“Not as it is,” I said to Mary. I looked up at the man. My disinterest in the man warred with my interest in how he’d managed to carry it here from the junkyard. “This is perfect. Thank you. Was it heavy to carry?”

“Not at all,” he said.

I didn’t fully believe him. Dirty sweat streaks lined his face. If they weren’t from carrying the tub, then what? I gave him a small smile of thanks and turned to Mary.

“Where do you think we should put it?”

“You fill it with water, right?” she said. I nodded. “Then close to the water, I guess. There’s that little room just inside the meeting room.”

I had no idea which room she meant but turned back to the man.

“Would you be willing to bring it in for us?” I was very careful to include Mary in the request for further help. I didn’t want to raise this man’s hopes as I had Anton’s. The man agreed with a smile, and Mary tugged me to the next pile.

As we meandered through the yard, we collected more dishes, some silverware, cooking items, furniture, and a hammer with a roughly hewn “new” handle. Yet, there were items I refused. A moth-eaten cushioned chair that had a huge, and very questionable, gnawed hole in the seat; and a mattress, likewise gnawed. The men with those items looked like I’d slapped them when I shook my head to decline what they’d brought. I quickly moved away from them to inspect the next man’s items.

Near the woods, a wolf stepped out in front of me. My heart froze for a moment. Mary set her hand on my shoulder, stopping me from running as it stepped closer. It walked with a limp and one of its eyes didn’t open all the way.

“It’s Anton,” Mary said softly. All of the small noises in the yard stopped, and the hostility of those around us grew palpable.

The wolf dipped his head to the ground and dropped something from his mouth. Half a thick candle lay in the dirt and dry grass.

“Thank you, Anton,” I said as I cautiously retrieved it. “Why aren’t you…” Was it rude to ask why he wasn’t a man?

Mary seemed to understand my half-spoken question, though.

“I’ll explain later.” She pulled me away. Her tight hold on my hand worried me as much as the angry stares of the men around us.

Mary stopped when we reached the door. As if it were a sign, those who’d brought useful items began to carry everything inside. I thanked them once more as they left. When we had the room to ourselves again, we went in and closed the door.

I looked at her but she shook her head.

“Let’s go upstairs.”

In our room, she finally confided in me.

“The noise we heard this morning? They confronted Anton because you seemed to favor him.”

I stared at the candle still in my hand, then quickly set it on the floor. Sane thoughts scattered as I numbly walked to the window. Most of the men either were no longer in the yard or had changed to their other form. But Anton still stood near the edge of the woods, looking at the main building.

How many of them had he fought? My hand moved to my throat. How many men had I thanked today? Had I looked at any of them too long?

“Winifred wants you to know it’s in our nature and not due to anything you’ve done. Males will compete for females. The strong ones usually prevail. It means stronger young.”

Young? I didn’t want young. I didn’t want males. I didn’t want any of this. Except maybe a place to stay. I set my hand against the sill. My earlier thought rose again. Perhaps I could just stay inside. If I didn’t mingle with them, they couldn’t hurt me and they wouldn’t hurt each other.

Anton happened to glance up and catch me at the window. His head bobbed in acknowledgement then turned and disappeared into the trees. Despite his beating, he’d found a candle and brought it to me, risking more retribution. And why? He knew I didn’t want anyone to bite me. It didn’t seem to matter to him. He still wanted to win my favor. He still hoped I’d agree to what he wanted. My throat grew tight, and I knew something had finally killed most of my fear: pity. I pitied not just Anton, but all the men for their desperate hope.

“Charlene?” Mary said, her voice heavy with concern.

“It’s fine. I’m fine,” I said turning to face her again. “Let’s check out that tub.”

It turned out there was a small, windowless space off the main room, very close to the hand pump and trough. The tub sat in the center of the area, but something didn’t look right. The wood creaked under our feet as we walked in, and I saw what looked off. The boards bowed under the weight of the empty tub, flexing further with each step we took. I couldn’t imagine the boards would hold the weight of the water too.

“It doesn’t look very safe,” Mary said.

“Yeah.” And I didn’t see how I’d be able to use it. Where would the water drain? Emptying it the same way I would fill it didn’t sound like much fun.

“Maybe we could use some of the boards they pulled off the shed,” Mary said. “If we laid them cross ways on top of the other boards, I mean.”

“Maybe.” I glanced at the door. I worried that going out to get the boards would draw attention and prompt offers of help. Unable to stand the thought of someone else being beaten for helping me, I stayed where I was.

“Want me to get them?” she asked.

I nodded.

While she did that, I moved the table between the sink and the fireplace. I’d just started to place the chairs around it when Mary walked past followed by two men. They carried boards over their shoulders, and both men nodded at me. I gave a small smile and a nod in return then ignored them. While they were in the tub room, someone tapped on the outer door she’d left open. Reluctantly, I went to answer it. This man looked older than the others. Grey hair covered his chest, and vines held up his loose pants.

“Hi,” I said simply.

“Hello.” His deep, rumbling voice sounded amused. “Mary said you needed food again.”

I nodded hesitantly. We hadn’t eaten yet, but I hadn’t planned to ask anyone for anything. There was still another can of beans I could open and share with Mary. I preferred beans over asking someone to hunt for us and risking showing favoritism.

The man at the door pulled out a skewered rabbit from behind his back. “I hope you’re not as picky about eating rabbit,” he said with a slight grin.

I tilted my head and really looked at the man. I saw some familiar features and smiled wider.

“You’re Mary’s dad, then?”

“I am. You can call me Henry.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Henry,” I said, moving aside for him.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” he said. “Want me to put this on the fire for you?”

“That would be great. Thank you.”

He moved into the room and squatted by the fire while I closed the door.

“Mary’s glad you’re here.”

“I’m glad she’s here, too.”

He stood and turned toward me. “They mean well,” he said with a deep sigh. “I remember how it was when I saw Mary’s mother that first time.” He shook his head, and a fond smile tugged at his mouth. “That beautiful, angry woman…she fought me, you know. When I tried to Claim her. She had big plans. She’d watched some people building a house and decided she wanted to live like them.” He looked around the room. “This was our compromise. She loved this place, but we never lived here.”

Mary walked out of the tub room and smiled at her dad. The two men followed her. Henry nodded at both and watched as they left. Neither closed the door.

“You two stay inside for the rest of the day. They’re getting restless waiting for Winifred.”

Mary nodded, and I glanced at the door. Many of them unabashedly looked in as they walked past.

When Henry left, he closed the door behind him.

“Let’s bring this up to our room,” Mary said, patting the dresser with the missing drawers.

Friday it rained and tempers flared. Mary and I ate a quiet breakfast of rabbit and beans—I was growing to hate beans—while listening to faint snarls and muted growls. We’d moved all the items from the day before to their proper places, soaked the dishes in boiling hot water, and cleaned out the tub. The small additions made the place feel less run down and vacant.

We’d worked so much the day before that we had nothing with which to occupy ourselves. So Mary started the long process of heating water for a bath. We watched the floor carefully as we poured in each pot, but the extra boards held steady as the depth of the water increased. When there was enough water, I took a quick bath. Sitting there undressed with no lock on the door made me nervous. However, stepping away clean made it worthwhile. Emptying the tub by hand wasn’t very fun; but with Mary’s help, it went fast. We then worked to fill it for her. When she finished her bath, we sat together and dried our hair by the fire.

Twice someone knocked on the door, but we didn’t answer it. After the second time, I noticed the men were starting to watch us through the window. I nudged Mary. We glanced at each other, stood, and went upstairs to our room. The fighting outside grew worse afterwards. It was a long day and a longer evening.

I restlessly lay on my bed, wondering if they would decide to ignore Winifred’s command and come inside to bite me again. Mary’s father had no chance of holding them all back if they decided to come for me. And I worried he’d just get hurt like Anton.

The scabs were beginning to itch on the very outside, and I knew I was starting to heal. It didn’t mean I was ready for another bite, though.

Mary seemed to sense my anxious mood.

“Want me to sleep on the bed with you?” she asked.

I nodded and closed my eyes as she lay by me. I pretended the world and I were normal and that nothing could hurt me. I knew better, though.