by T. J. Klune
Yes. I’m not a little kid Ox
you are a little kid
Whatever. You coming for dinner?
its sunday of course i am
You bringing Jessie?
no she has stuff to do
Tuesday:
what do you want for your birthday
It’s still over a month away!
so what you want
Caveman
joe tell me what you want
Everything!
ok i can do that <3
What
Ox.
Ox!
IT WAS two in the morning when my phone rang.
“Huh?” I said into it.
“Ox.” Mark sounded stressed.
Sleep was gone instantly. “What happened?”
“It’s Joe.”
I was up and already scrounging for the shorts I’d left on the floor. “Is he okay?”
“No. He had a nightmare. We can’t get him calm. I think he needs you.”
“Okay. On my way.”
Carter met me at the door. He didn’t even get a chance to open his mouth before I heard a loud cry come from inside the house. I pushed passed him, saying, “Joe,” calling out, “Joe.”
I was on the stairs when I heard him again. “No! Don’t let the man take him. Please, Mom! Please don’t let him take Ox away.” Joe’s voice was broken and wet, and my heart cracked in my chest.
Mark was at the door with Kelly. They both stared at me with wide and tired eyes. I ignored them because I had to get to him. I had to see him and—
He was on his bed. Thomas and Elizabeth were curled on either side of him. His face was in his mother’s neck and he was shaking, and it was so violent, and his hands were gripping her tight as he cried out again, and I said, “Oh, Joe.”
I didn’t think of it too much when I reached down between the two of them and lifted him up. They didn’t snap at me for handling him in such a way. They didn’t try to stop me. Thomas’s face was tight with worry. Elizabeth was crying, great globular tears that tore at my chest.
For a moment, Joe tensed in my arms, and then he held on as if his life depended on it, legs latching on around my waist, hands pulling at the back of my head.
Thomas and Elizabeth stood up from the bed. They touched my arm and Thomas whispered they would tell my mom where I was. They shut the door behind them.
I moved us to the side of the bed and sat on the floor, my back to the mattress. I moved Joe around until he was resting against my chest.
Eventually, he said, “I had a bad dream.”
I said, “I know.”
He said, “It’s always the same. Most of the time. He comes for me and takes me away and does… things.”
I wanted to scream out my horror, but I kept it in and said, “I’m here.”
Joe said, “Sometimes, he takes my mom. Or my dad.”
I put my hand in his hair.
Joe said, “This time, he took you, and if he can find you in my dreams, he can find you in real life.”
I said, “I’ll protect you,” and I’d never meant anything more in my life.
He fell asleep as the sun began to rise.
I didn’t sleep for a long time.
AFTER THAT, anytime he had a bad dream, he asked (cried, screamed) for me and I always went to him.
He would shake and sob, his eyes half-crazed with the trappings of his nightmare. But then my hands would be on his back, rubbing soothing circles, and he would quiet until there was nothing left but shuddery breaths and a wet face.
THREE WEEKS later, I found out their secret.
moon
“OX.”
“G’way.”
“Ox, wake the fuck up!”
I opened my eyes. It was still night, the only light coming from the full moon high in the sky.
There was someone else in the room, shaking me.
“The fuck?” I said.
“Get dressed.”
“Gordo? What the hell is—”
He stepped back, eyes narrowed. “You need to come with me.”
My heart was in my throat. “My mom—”
“She’s fine, Ox. She’s asleep. She won’t hear anything. She’s safe.”
I threw on a shirt and some discarded cargo shorts. Gordo waited for me at my bedroom door. I followed him down the hall toward the stairs. My mother’s door was partway open and I could see her sleeping. Gordo tugged on my arm.
We were outside before he spoke. The night air was warm against my skin. Everything felt too loud.
“There are things,” he said, and through my haze of sleep, I tripped over his words and couldn’t process them. “Things you’re going to see tonight. Things that you’ve never seen before. I need you to trust me. I won’t let anything hurt you. I won’t let anything happen to you. You are safe, Ox. I need you to remember that.”
“Gordo, what’s going on?”
His voice cracked when he said, “I didn’t want you to find out this way. I thought we’d have more time. If you ever had to find out at all.”
“For what!”
A howl rose from deep in the forest and I felt chilled to the bone. It was a song I’d heard before, but it sounded distressed.
“Fuck,” Gordo muttered. “We have to hurry.”
The house at the end of the lane was dark.
The moon was fat and white overhead.
There were stars. So many stars. Too many. I’d never felt so small in my life.
We entered the woods at a quick pace.
I was half listening to Gordo, trying to avoid tripping over tree roots and stumps. He was sputtering his words, false starts and syllables that died before they could combine into something more. He was nervous, terrified, and it affected his speech.
And then it wasn’t quite as dark anymore. Even with the moon.
“It’s like. You see. There are things.”
“Gordo?” I interrupted.
“What.”
“Your tattoos are glowing.”
Because they were. The raven. The lines. The swirls and whorls. All up and down both of his arms, they glimmered and shifted like they were alive.
He said, “Yeah. That’s one of the things.”
I said, “Okay.”
He said, “I’m a witch.”
And I said, “You’re a wizard, Harry,” because I thought there was a very real chance I was caught in a dream.
He laughed, but it sounded like he was choking.
I was distracted and my shin caught something solid. The pain was bright and glassy, and it shot through the fog. It was only then that I realized I’d never felt pain in a dream before and that I’d read somewhere it was impossible to actually feel pain in a dream.
“Fuck,” I said. “You’re a what?”
“Witch.”
“For how long?”
“My whole life.”
“What?”
Another howl. Closer now. We’d gone at least half a mile into the woods. Maybe farther. There was nothing but forest that went on for thousands of acres ahead of us. I’d gotten lost in it plenty of times. “What was that?”
“Your pack,” he said, and his words were so bitter I could taste them.
“My…. I don’t.” Dreaming, dreaming, dreaming. It had to be, even with the pain. My leg was sore, but maybe I’d just wished it so and therefore it was.
“I tried to keep them away from you,” he said. “I really did. I didn’t want this life for you. I didn’t want you to be a part of this. I wanted to keep you clean. To keep you whole. Because you are the only thing in my life worth that.”
“Gordo.”
He said, “Listen to me, Ox. Monsters are real. Magic is real. The world is a dark and frightening place and it’s all real.”
“How?”
He shook his head. “Don’t be afraid.”
A cloud slid over the moon and the only light was the shifting kaleidoscope that rolled up his arms. Prisms of
colors, all blues and greens and pinks and reds.
“Does it hurt?” I asked.
“What?”
“The colors.”
“No. It pulls and I push and it crawls along my skin, but it never hurts. Not anymore.”
“Where are we going?”
“To their clearing,” and the howl picked up again, but now there was more than one. There were many, and they mingled and rose together, the song hidden within a half step above and below, off-key until it wasn’t. And then it was beautiful.
“Who?” I asked as I itched all over because I felt something.
Instead, he said, “I tried to stop this,” and he was desperate and pleading but they were singing above him and—
come, the song said. hurry come now. here. please. hurry hurry hurry because you are us and we are you.
He said, “I tried to tell them to stay away. To leave you out of this.”
Ox. it’s Ox it’s him and he’s here and he is ours. smell him taste him he is ours and we need because he hears our song.
“But by the time I found out you knew who they were, that they were back in Green Creek, it was already too late.”
“They’re calling me,” I said, and my voice sounded light and airy.
“I know,” Gordo said through gritted teeth. “Ox, you can’t trust them. This.”
“I can,” I said, even though I didn’t know who he meant. “Don’t you hear it?”
Ox Ox Ox Ox. bring him food rabbits fowl deer. show him we can provide because he is PackOursMineBrotherSonLove.
“Yes,” Gordo said. “But not like you can because I’m not pack. Not anymore.”
Pack.
Oh god. Pack.
I started running.
“Ox!” he roared after me.
I ignored him. I had to get closer because my chest felt hot like burning, my skin itching until I thought it would drive me insane. Wind roared in my ears and the cloud left the moon and it was almost as bright as day, and they howled. They sang. The song was alive and vibrant, and it was all I could do to keep from tilting my head back and crying out soul-struck melodies—I hear you I know you I’m coming for you I love you—for all the forest and moon to hear. My heart was a drum and the beat pounded in my chest. I thought I could shatter and the pieces would fall amongst the trees and all that would be left would be little fractals of light from the moon as it reflected off the shards that had been my whole.
OX OX OX OX OX OX
Tree branches slapped my face. My arms. Little flickers of brief pain before the song took over.
HERE HERE HERE HERE
I thought of my father, and he said, “You’re gonna get shit. For most of your life.”
OURS OURS OURS OURS OURS
I thought of my mother, and she laughed, “There’s a soap bubble on your ear.”
HOME HOME HOME
I thought of Gordo, and he whispered, “You belong to us now,” and did I? Did I really?
YES YES YES YES YES
I thought of Joe, and it was in song, in concert with all the howls that were just beyond the tree line and I just had a few more steps and I needed to be there I needed to see what there was to see and I I I I—
I came into the clearing.
I stopped.
I fell to my knees.
Closed my eyes.
Fell back on the heels of my feet.
Turned my face toward the moon.
They sang.
And then it echoed away.
I took a breath.
Opened my eyes.
Before me stood the impossible.
A white wolf. Smatterings of black on its chest. Legs. Back.
Its eyes were red, flashing in the moonlight.
It was the size of a horse, its paws twice the size of my hands. Its snout was as long as my arm. There was a hint of teeth like spikes.
There was movement behind it, but I couldn’t look away.
The wolf walked toward me and I could not move.
“This is a dream,” I whispered. “Ah god. This is a dream.”
It stood before me. Lowered its head. Sniffed along my neck, slow, deliberate breaths that were hot against my skin. I thought I should be scared, but I couldn’t find a reason to be.
The wolf exhaled along my throat. My hair. My ear.
In my head, I heard whispers of OxPackOxSafeOxOxOx.
I knew that voice. Those voices. I knew them all.
I reached up. My hands slid into soft hair, grazing along the hide underneath.
And then, a cold splash of something like reality. “Ox!” a voice shouted from behind me.
The wolf growled over my shoulder. A warning.
“Oh fuck off, Thomas,” Gordo said. I could hear him coming up behind me. “You don’t know shit. The wards are holding.”
Thomas. Thomas. Thomas. “Thomas?” I sounded broken.
The wolf looked back down at me, eyes flashing red. It (he) pressed its (his) nose against my forehead and huffed. “My,” I choked out. “What big eyes—”
He bumped his snout against my head and I took that for what it was.
The wolf (Thomas Thomas Thomas) took a few steps back and sat down on his haunches. He towered over me, waiting. For what, I didn’t really know.
I stood slowly and I wondered if he was going to eat me. I hoped it would be quick.
The wolf (THOMAS THOMAS THOMAS) cocked his head at me.
And I said, “So, this is a thing.”
Gordo snorted behind me.
“I don’t think I’m dreaming,” I said.
“You’re not,” Gordo said.
“Okay. You have shiny arms because you’re a wizard.” I didn’t look away from the wolf, who huffed again, like I’d said something funny.
“Witch,” Gordo said. “And I don’t have shiny arms.”
“That’s a lie,” I muttered. “You’re like your own flashlight.”
“This is what you’re focusing on? You find out the Bennetts are werewolves and you think about my shiny arms?”
“Werewolves,” I breathed. “That’s… whoa.”
The wolf shook his head, almost as if he was amused.
“Jesus Christ,” Gordo muttered. “Thomas, get the rest of your mutts over here to do your ass sniffing. I’ll make sure everything is still holding.”
Thomas growled low in his throat. His eyes went red again.
“Yeah, yeah. Your Alpha shit doesn’t work on me. I could fry the hair off your ass in a heartbeat. You dog dick.”
He pushed past us and his tattoos shimmered up and down his arms.
I looked back up at Thomas. “I…” didn’t know what to say.
He looked over his shoulder and rumbled deep in his chest. There was a loud yip and then two smaller wolves bounded over, one slightly bigger than the other. They rubbed themselves all over me, their heads butting against my chest and head. The bigger one was a dark gray with little flecks of black and white on his hind legs. The smaller one had similar coloring, but his white and black splotches started on his face and went back to his shoulders.
Their eyes flashed bright orange as their tongues dragged along my skin.
“Gross,” I said mildly.
They laughed. Not out loud, but they laughed and the familiarity caused me to ache.
“Carter,” I said. “Kelly.” I sounded just stupid with awe.
They laughed at me again and bounded around me, hopping like they were puppies. They nipped at my clothes and fingers and I wasn’t dreaming.
I touched their backs and moonlight filtered through my fingers onto their skin. They were happy. Somehow, I knew they were happy. I could feel it in my head and chest and it was so bright.
I looked back to Thomas and saw a large brown wolf sat at his right side, watching me closely. He wasn’t anywhere near as big as Thomas, but his eyes kept lighting up like Halloween, all fiery and warm. He huffed at me, and I saw the curve of a secret smile.
I said, “
Mark.”
He leaned over and rumbled in the back of his throat, his nose drifting along my face, tongue trailing.
“So licking is something you do,” I told them. “You’re going to be embarrassed later. I’m not going to lick you right now.” I paused, considering. “Or probably at all.”
None of them seemed to care. I didn’t know if they understood me. I didn’t even know if this was real.
Gordo came back, and his tattoos had quieted down. They were still illuminated, but they didn’t seem to shift as before. He was pale, and his eyes looked sunken in their sockets.
He looked up at Thomas and said, “It won’t take. He can’t attach himself to any of you. His tether won’t affix.” Then his voice grew hard. Accusing. “And I think you knew that before.”
A sound came then. It was wet and snapping and horrible, and there was a groan of muscle and skin, and white fur rippled and receded. It only took seconds, but where there’d once been a wolf, now stood Thomas. He was still an animal, or at least partway, caught between man and wolf. His fingers ended in black claws and his face was slightly elongated. There were teeth, sharp teeth, and his eyes were red.
And he was naked, which just made everything all that more surreal.
“We knew this was a possibility,” he told Gordo, his voice a deep rumble, the words slightly lisped because of the fangs. The fangs.
“How is this fair to Ox?” Gordo asked bitterly. “You didn’t give him a choice.”
“And you did?”
The tattoos flared on Gordo’s arms. “It’s not the same and you know it.”
“You’re not a stupid boy,” Thomas snapped. “Don’t act like you are. These things choose themselves. Your father, regardless of what he turned into, taught you better than that.”
“Don’t you dare bring him into this. Ox isn’t—”
“I’m standing right here,” I somehow managed to say.
They looked over at me, surprise on their faces, like they’d forgotten I was there.
And it hit me.
“Joe,” I said. “Where’s Joe?”
Carter and Kelly whimpered at my sides, brushing up against me.
Thomas sighed. “It’s his first shift. He’s not… handling it very well.”
Fear ran through me. “Where is he?” I demanded.
Gordo stepped forward. “Ox, you need to understand. You always have a choice. This isn’t set in stone.”