Firefly Hollow

by Haddix, T. L.

  Cheeks hot, he looked away. “But it was shameful, what happened to me today.”

  “Tell me about it?”

  With a heavy sigh, he explained about Mallie. “As soon as I touched her, I…” he stumbled to a halt, unable to tell his mother that he’d gotten a boner. She seemed to understand, though, without his having to tell her.

  “Owen, that’s normal. All boys go through that. But what happened after that?”

  He shrugged. “My back started hurting, real bad, down low. Like someone was sticking needles in me. And I felt like I needed to run, to just run. So I did.” He covered his face with his hands. “I’m gonna be in so much trouble at school. Everybody’s gonna laugh at me when I go back.”

  His mother was quiet.

  Uncovering his face, Owen looked over at her. A slow tear was tracking its way down her cheek. “Mom?”

  “You won’t be going back to school, Owen. Not this year. I’m sorry.”

  Shocked, he asked, “But why? I can handle it. I can go back. Please.” As embarrassed as he was, he didn’t want to miss school. He loved learning, and it wasn’t something he was about to give up without a fight.

  “When the first change happens, Owen, the boy gets sent away. If his father isn’t a shifter, the son goes to the nearest male relative who is. There’s training to be done, control that has to be taught.”

  “Does Dad know?”

  Lucy nodded. “He knows, but he doesn’t… he doesn’t have anything like this in his family, never ran across it before. And I never told him about it until you got lost that time. He didn’t want to believe it until my father took him aside and explained it. And then he didn’t want anything to do with the change. That was something he’d leave up to me, he said. To be fair, I should have told him before we ever got married.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “Because I knew he’d never marry me if I did. And as hard as your father is, he’s a good man. And I love him.”

  Owen pondered what she’d said. “So who will I be going to stay with? Granddaddy?”

  “No, he’s not able to train you. You’ll need to go to Uncle Eli, down in Laurel County.”

  He swallowed. “How long will I have to be gone?”

  “For as long as it takes, son. For as long as it takes.”

  Against Hank’s objections, Lucy withdrew Owen from school. She borrowed the family truck, and they headed down the winding roads to his uncle in London, the small bustling town a few counties over. Eli Wells and his wife, Amy, owned a large farm there, and they made Owen feel more than welcome. Even so, London wasn’t home, and Owen mourned the loss of the life he’d known.

  Surly and uncertain of his place, Owen tested Eli and Amy repeatedly. He lashed out at them, angry and hurt, but they took all his angst in stride. After one particularly vicious outburst, Eli escorted him to the barn to cool down. Certain he was going to be banished there for the remainder of his stay, his heart broke. When Eli handed him a sturdy rake, Owen looked from it to his uncle.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked.

  “Muck out the stalls. Wheelbarrow’s at the end of the aisle. Don’t come back in the house until you’ve calmed down. If shoveling horse crap doesn’t curb that temper, I don’t know what will.” Eli headed back to the house.

  Owen looked from the rake to his uncle’s retreating back, and then at the empty stalls. “At least I’ll have a clean place to sleep, I guess.”

  By the time Eli came back an hour later with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses, Owen had finished the first two stalls and was starting on the third. As his uncle had predicted, his rage had dissolved. In its place, an empty loneliness had settled. Owen didn’t speak as Eli sat down on a bale of straw and poured the lemonade. He handed one to Owen.

  “Have a seat, son. You’ve had a few of days to adjust to things. It’s time we talked.”

  Too tired to argue, Owen sat and drank his lemonade.

  Eli let him get the first glass down before he spoke. “So, I imagine you have some questions.”

  Owen shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe.”

  Eli finished his own drink and set the empty glass aside. “I know I did. And my father wasn’t exactly well-equipped to answer them. I hope I can do a better job of this than he did.”

  “What about Trent? The others?” Owen asked, referring to Eli’s seven children. “Are they like us?”

  “Trent is. The younger boys haven’t shown yet, but I suspect at least two of them are shifters.”

  “When did you tell them?”

  “As soon as they were old enough to understand and to keep it a secret, which is what your mother should have done with you. I’m sorry she didn’t.”

  Owen scuffed the toe of his sneaker on the barn floor. “Yeah, so am I. Harlan isn’t like us, she said. Shouldn’t he be? He’s my brother.”

  Eli leaned back against the stall behind them. “Not necessarily. From what I’ve learned, it’s like the color of your hair or your eyes. There’s no way to know which child is going to be a shifter, or something else entirely. It just is.”

  Owen was stunned. “What else is there?”

  “All kinds of things. People who can heal with their touch, people who can see the future, people who can talk to animals with their minds. There’s so much more to the world than most people ever realize. And we’re lucky because we get to see that side of things. You have to learn to accept that part of who you are.” Eli must have seen how overwhelmed Owen felt. “Let’s stick with shifting for now. There will be plenty time to learn about the other mysteries on this side of reality later. What do you want to know?”

  The question bore careful consideration, and Owen took his time formulating his response. “What am I? When I turn, I mean? Mom said something about a wolf.”

  Eli nodded. “All the shifters in our family do turn into wolves. A few can turn into other creatures, but we can all become wolves. Some better than others, I might add.”

  “How many shifters do we have in the family?”

  “Not counting you and me and my boys? I know of at least fifteen others, spread out across the family tree.”

  Owen took that in for a little bit. He was becoming more curious than ashamed, finally. “Can you show me?”

  “I don’t think you’re quite ready for that quite yet. But I promise you, I’ll show you very soon, and I’ll guide you through your first shifting.”

  Owen picked at a hole in the knee of his jeans. “Does it hurt?”

  His uncle moved his hand in a seesaw motion. “Not hurt, precisely, but it is uncomfortable. I think that’s why you start to change when you’re younger. Because your bones aren’t fully formed yet, it’s easier to get used to.”

  After that, the questions rolled out of Owen. For the next several days, he followed Eli around the farm. He learned what it meant to be a shifter, not just physically, but mentally, and as Eli calmly answered his questions, Owen started to adapt to his new reality.

  As relieved as he was to be getting some answers and guidance, he was jealous of Eli’s children, who were still in school. Trent, a couple years younger than Owen and more interested in playing outside than in doing his homework, stamped on Owen’s nerves in particular. Because of the way Eli and Amy had raised their children, Trent and his siblings had been able to stay in school, unlike Owen. One evening after supper, the two came to blows. It wasn’t anything more than a typical scuffle that young boys tended to get into, but Owen’s resentment added to his ire. After separating them, Amy demanded an explanation.

  “He got mad because I wouldn’t do my algebra,” Trent told her, rolling his eyes.

  She sent Trent inside to clean up and kept Owen with her. “Walk with me.”

  He started to sneer at her, but whe
n she simply raised an eyebrow, he stomped off down the driveway. He hadn’t gotten far when his conscience got the best of him, and he slowed to wait for her.

  She caught up to him and linked her arm through his. “You want to go to school, don’t you?”

  Owen hung his head. “Yes. I love learning.”

  “Well, I think it’s a little too late to get you enrolled down here this year, but we can go to the library and get you some books. Would you like that?”

  “You don’t think I should learn how to fix tractors or run a farm? Harlan says book learning is a waste of a man’s time and that real men don’t read books.”

  Amy snorted. “Oh, please. That’s ridiculous, Owen. You probably need to know about tractors and farming, yes, but don’t believe that other drivel. Real men aren’t ashamed to read books, to learn, and to better themselves. Look at your uncle. He reads everything he can get his hands on, every chance he gets. Now, I don’t think you need to bury your nose in books and keep it there, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting knowledge. Don’t ever let anyone tell you there is.”

  The pep talk bolstered Owen’s spirits considerably, and the next day, Amy took him into town to the library. For the rest of the time he stayed with them, Eli and Amy encouraged and supported Owen’s desire to learn. When his mother came for him that August, he didn’t want to leave. He told Eli as much when they hugged.

  “Any time you need or want to come back, the door is always open,” his uncle assured him in a gruff voice. “But you need to go home and give life there a chance. Okay?”

  He went home, back to Perry County. But life didn’t get any easier; in fact, it got worse.

  Because he hadn’t finished eighth grade, he was sentenced to repeat it. His brother, who was only a year behind him thanks to the way their birthdays fell, had made sure that no one forgot Owen’s embarrassing episode the previous spring. Harlan set out to make Owen’s life a living hell. It didn’t help matters that Owen still hadn’t hit his growth spurt, so Harlan was rapidly overtaking him in both height and weight.

  By the time Christmas rolled around, Owen was ready to walk away from school and his family. The stress of dealing with puberty and Harlan’s tormenting was too much, and when Harlan made a snide remark on Christmas Eve, Owen lost his temper. His hackles rose, literally, and with a snarl, he leapt on his brother. They rolled around on the living room floor for several minutes before their father was able to separate them. When he finally did, Owen was half changed, and the look of disgust and fear on Hank’s face, and on Harlan’s, broke something in Owen.

  The next day, despite his mother’s tears and protests, he moved out to the barn. He didn’t feel comfortable living in the house any longer. And he never went back to school after that. As much as he loved learning, the price he paid simply wasn’t worth it.

  A few weeks later, he went to live with Eli and Amy. He didn’t return to school, though; he wasn’t strong enough to take the chance that he’d be rejected again. Amy enrolled him in a correspondence course, and he was able to get his high school diploma, but he never felt as though he measured up in his father’s eyes.

  When he was eighteen, Owen’s brother married his high-school sweetheart, and then promptly joined the Army and departed for Germany. Harlan was killed there ten months later in a bar fight that erupted over the favors of a prostitute. Owen returned home for the funeral, and his mother begged him to stay. Unable to turn away from her in the midst of her anguish, he did as she wanted. He slept in the barn, unwilling to give an inch to his father, who didn’t bother to hide his disgust at Owen’s presence.

  A few weeks later, their father dropped dead from a heart attack. The blows, coming in quick succession as they did, took a toll on Lucy’s health. She was never the same after that. After she was diagnosed with a heart condition, Owen reluctantly moved back into the house to help take care of her. Lucy went downhill quickly, suffering a series of heart attacks in just a few months. She knew she was dying, as much as Owen tried to convince her, and himself, she wasn’t.

  Many times, she’d tried to get him to promise her that he wouldn’t seclude himself after she was gone. “Darling boy, I can’t hold on much longer, and I worry about you so. Don’t stay up here on this mountain alone. Don’t punish yourself for what you are. Promise me, Owen. Promise me you’ll live. Find a woman to love and love her well. Let her love you.”

  Until that point, Owen had never lied to his mother, but he couldn’t promise what she was asking. He knew that once she was gone, he’d hole up in the house and become a recluse. It was the life he’d led since that fateful Christmas, and even if lonely at times, it was the life he was comfortable with. Regardless, he nodded, gruffly promising to live even though he knew he wouldn’t follow through with her wishes.

  Now, years after he’d learned the truth about himself, he was alone. If he longed for more from time to time, he told himself sternly that such a life was not for him, that he was comfortable in his solitude. If he needed a reminder, all he had to do was change into his natural beast, the menacing wolf, and look at himself in a mirror. No, he’d never subject a woman to his beastliness, and he certainly wouldn’t pass his condition on to his children. Owen was barely able to accept himself for what he was, and he wasn’t about to let himself be vulnerable enough to let anyone else know the truth.

  Chapter Four

  SARAH’S LEGS TREMBLED SO MUCH that she staggered as she tried to get home. Trying to keep from crying, she bit her lip hard enough to taste blood. She was hard-pressed to say what had shaken her most: that she’d almost been killed by a rattlesnake, that she’d watched that snake be torn to bits, or that she’d been saved by a wolf.

  When she reached the edge of the woods, she saw her father working in the garden. With a sob, she hurried toward him. “Daddy!”

  Her father looked up, alarm crossing his face. “Sarah? What’s wrong?” He dropped the hoe and hurried to meet her.

  Sarah’s legs finally gave out as he reached her, and she fell into his arms. She heard her mother call from the back porch, but couldn’t understand the words through her tears.

  “Honey? What’s wrong? What happened?” Ira asked again.

  “S-s-snake,” Sarah managed.

  He pulled back and started checking her limbs as her mother rushed over.

  “Did you get bit?”

  Sarah shook her head. “No. Oh, God. It was awful.”

  Ira pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped her face. “How about some ice water?” he asked her mother, who got up and went toward the house. “Just breathe slowly, honey. You’ll make yourself sick if you don’t calm down.”

  Sarah struggled to bring her emotions under control. By the time her mother came back out with the water, Ira had managed to get Sarah up and onto the porch. The three of them sat on the concrete steps, Sarah supported between her parents, and Eliza put the cold, damp cloth she’d brought back outside on the back of Sarah’s neck. Even though her breath was hitching, Sarah’s fear started to ease.

  “Now, you think you can tell us what happened?” Ira asked.

  “I was coming home and th-there was a rattlesn-snake across the path. Right there after the b-big rock, you know?” Thankfully, she’d been on Browning land when she encountered the snake. She didn’t want to have to confess that she’d been trespassing, in addition to everything else. “And I tried to go around it, but it heard me. B-before I could run, it coiled up.” She laid her head against her mother’s shoulder. “I didn’t have anything to fight it off with, and I knew I was a goner. But then, this w-wolf showed up. And it killed the snake.”

  Her mother’s arm tightened around her. To Sarah’s surprise, her father cursed under his breath. He stood and took a few steps away, then turned to stare at Sarah. “A wolf? You’re sure it wasn’t a big dog?”

  “
Pretty sure, yes. It was black and grey, and it was huge. It tore the snake into bits,” she said with a shudder, remembering the violence of the wolf’s attack.

  “And it didn’t try to come after you?” he pressed.

  “No. It growled at me and howled some, but it left me alone. It was almost like it stepped in to save me, and that was all.” When her father sent her mother a look and cursed again, Sarah frowned. She pulled back to look at her mother, then at Ira. “What?”

  “Nothing, sweetheart. We’re just glad you’re okay. Are you going to go look at the snake?” Eliza asked him.

  Ira gave a short nod. “Yes. The two of you stay here. At least Jack isn’t here to want to go with me.” He came back to the porch and bent to place a soft kiss on the crown of Sarah’s head. “I’m glad you’re okay, young lady. We’re going to have to reconsider your walks, though. I’ll be back soon.”

  Sarah started to protest, but remembering the terror and utter helplessness she’d felt at being trapped by the snake, she held her tongue. Ira went to the garden and picked up the hoe he’d dropped, then stomped off into the woods.

  “Mama, why’s he so upset? And please don’t tell me it’s because I almost got bit,” Sarah added.

  Eliza sighed. “I imagine he’s upset because he’s got to go see a man about a wolf, sweetheart. I don’t think the wolf you saw was wild. I think it was tame, if you can ever tame such a creature.”

  There was an undercurrent to the conversation Sarah didn’t understand, but exhausted from the trauma of the evening, she didn’t question it. “I think I’ll go in, if you don’t mind. I’ve had enough of being outside today.”