by H. T. Night
I started taking some classes online so I could get my Master’s degree in Education. California has a lot of red tape if someone wants to be a teacher. Now with the economy so bad, the extra crap they make you do is ridiculous. I was working toward a teaching credential because I’d like to go into coaching. It was my compromise to Maya, the queen of my life.
I did everything Maya asked me to do. I had become the ideal boyfriend. I wasn’t complaining because I was spending most of my time with the most fantastic woman in the world. But I had an itch. The longer I went without scratching it, the antsier I became. I dreamed of MMA fights every night, and sometimes woke up lathered in a sweat, as if I had fought in my sleep.
Maya was taking classes, too. She took some nursing classes at Cypress College. I silently wondered if she was doing that to ensure that she would always be able to patch me up if necessary. She landed a job doing odd jobs as a hospital tech at Anaheim Hills Hospital. Maya and taking care of people seemed to go hand in hand. Our love grew daily, and just when I thought I couldn’t possibly love this woman more, she would do something immensely thoughtful like organize my DVD collection by genre or make me an awesome mix tape.
When my time of the month came around—and coincidentally, it was Maya’s time of the month—Dave had been taking me to that property in Northern California. The brush was so thick and there are just trees for miles and miles. It was a Carni paradise, just like he said. It was a nice piece of private land that had been designated for our kind as a nature conservancy of sorts. The billionaire who owned the property fell in love with a female werewolf and had been helping other Carni for years. It was nice not to be caged in and to be able to run with my own kind, under the full moon, noses to the sky and the wind in our fur. Or at least I imagined that it was fun. It was certainly better than waking up in a cage. I began to love my uncaged werewolf freedom to be myself with my werewolf brothers. The brotherly camaraderie of it was almost like MMA.
Dave and I settled into a routine. Each month, he and I would pack up and head north a day before the full moon. Every time we jumped on the road and headed north, it always reminded me of the movie Sideways. We enjoyed our road trips, talking about movies, women, fighting, world issues, politics, everything.
Something else started happening while making those monthly trips. I began to develop a lot of friendships with other Carni. This was something that gave me security and a sense of belonging. I felt that the tighter a group of friends we had, the better it would be for all of us in the long run. We could support each other and we bonded as a pack. Because there were six of us in all, we called ourselves ‘The Six Pack.’ We roamed the earth by each other’s side when we turned into our werewolf forms. We must have gotten along great when we turned, because in fleshly forms, we had a bond like no other. That old expression, “they had my back,” came to mind.
The Six Pack consisted of Dave and me and four others. There was a tall, skinny Hispanic kid named Albert, who was about as tough as a non-fighter could be. The next member of our group was an older man named Steve. Steve was in his forties, and had been a world traveler before he was bitten in the 80s. He had amazing endurance for a man his age, and was almost as funny as I was. The last two members of our little clan were twin brothers. Yes, we had twin brothers in the group as well. Their names were Evan and Eli. Those two guys were built like roided-up WWE fighters. They were the prettiest men I had ever seen, and I don’t say that lightly. They both worked harder than most women on making sure every bit and piece of them were well groomed and fit. Evan and Eli were bulky Greek men with 36-inch waists and each had a good 250 pounds on them. That inverted-triangle look we all sought in MMA? They had it. I was envious. They swore it was their diet of Greek food that contributed to their physique. How they turned their baklava breaks into muscle, I never knew.
We were a badass group and it was fun hanging out with them. We’d spend the night wandering the property and none of us had any idea where we went or what we actually did. We could be killing squirrels all night for all we knew. But we weren’t—we were werewolves and I am sure we were formidable as a pack.
We spent the daylight hours in one of the houses owned by the landowner. He had about five enormous houses on the entire property. At the south end was an old, two-story, rustic house that suited the six of us well. We pretty much had a house to ourselves.
We would sleep, hang out and just shoot the shit. It reminded me of what actual guys in the Army Reserve must feel… once a month having a strong bond, and then going back to their lives each time. Speaking of Army Reserve, that was where Maya’s family thought I went each month. Josiah asked a lot of questions about the specifics of my assignments. He was such a little shit that way and never let anything fly under his radar. I think he was just fascinated with fighting and war and was trying to build some knowledge of the art of war in his mind. That boy definitely had a superhero complex. Everything out of his mouth was about saving people and doing the right thing. He was a good kid, but if he wanted to be a great MMA fighter, he was going to have to get more bloodthirsty. Josiah loved fighting, but he always did it out of principle, in self-defense or to save someone vulnerable. With me, sometimes I just needed to get into it with another guy just to see who was tougher. I had a hard time convincing Josiah how his superhero aspirations needed to connect with the same kind of badass mofo aspirations that I possessed. I took him under my wing, trying to direct his energies toward the MMA mindset, instead of saving the world. It was going to be a long haul, making him bloodthirsty.
That is where I was tonight. Albert and I had crossed that road. I was sure that I was the alpha male in the group. Even though the rest of the guys in the Six Pack could take care of themselves, I had the experience. Truth be known, I loved going toe to toe with anyone. I fed off of it, as a human, and now as a werewolf.
Even since I had this Carni-werewolf blood in me, I have had a stronger desire to fight. Which sucked, being that I had told Maya I would quit fighting for her. I tried to be patient while she worked on her education to become a nurse, and I supported that. I diligently worked on my own education credentials toward coaching, but every night, like a bedtime prayer, I visualized myself back in the MMA ring, competing and winning. Every sleeping dream I had seemed to be about MMA.
Every time I kissed her good night, it seemed like a metaphor for kissing MMA goodbye. I loved her so much, but I was tormented by everything I wanted, but that I could not have without some serious fallout with my girlfriend.
Hopefully, she’d come around and let me get back into the ring in the near future. I was going crazy with my promise to give up fighting. I was the owner of my own crushed dream, my hasty promise that I had made in order to keep her happy. I wanted MMA back, but I wanted Maya, too. Damn. Somehow, I would have to find a way to have my cake and eat it, too.
On this day, out at the Six Pack hangout, Albert decided to do a little bit of talking. It always started with ‘the talking.’ We were all playing poker, and we were about an hour away from the full moon. I had recently started playing the game, and didn’t realize that there was etiquette to a game of cards. Apparently, you’re not supposed to discuss people’s hands when you have folded and are out of a hand.
The six of us were sitting around the table. I had folded pre-flop which meant that I didn’t bet because my cards were awful.
Albert and Steve were the last two in the hand. The twins, Dave and all others had folded. I could tell that Albert was bluffing—he put all of his money in once the river card hit the board. He was trying to muscle Steve out of the hand. Steve looked as if he was going to fold. I said, “Don’t fold, Steve. He has nothing.”
Albert shot me a stern look, and I gave him a response as if to say, “What is your problem?” He cleared his throat in an ‘ahem’ way and said, “Kyro, you’re not supposed to talk if you’re no longer in a hand.” Albert’s voice demonstrated a high level of frustration with me.
“Hey, are you talkin’ to me?” I joked, throwing out a movie line. “I’m not supposed to talk? Who came up with that rule?” I laughed. “I think the guy who came up with that rule was bluffing. Are you afraid to have me talk because I know you’re bluffing?”
“It doesn’t matter what you think. You folded. You’re breaking every poker rule in the book right now by talking. Once you are out, you stay quiet until the end of the hand.”
I laughed out loud. “Every poker rule in the book? That must be a pretty small book.” I looked at Steve and said, “Call his bet. I guarantee you, you will win.”
“Dude, you can’t fucking talk!” Albert yelled at me.
“Settle down, young gun. Don’t go all Billy the Kid on me here,” I said, laughing even more. I was my own favorite joke and was having a ball being hilarious.
“Young gun? I’d kick your ass,” Albert stated.
“Albert, shut up!” Dave yelled at Albert. “You have no idea who you’re messing with.” I had told Dave not to tell anyone in our Carni group—or entire community, for that matter—that I was a pro fighter. I just didn’t want people to know anything about me—keeping things a mystery allowed moments like this one to happen.
“I’m not afraid of a guy who calls himself Kyro,” Albert said back to Dave.
“Well, you better be,” Dave said.
Then to everyone’s surprise. Steve shocked the room and said, “I call.”
Guess what! Albert was bluffing. He threw his cards on the floor and began yelling at me, “Are you fucking demented? Do you even have a brain in your fucking head?”
I knew Albert had a hot temper, but he was now walking a very thin line with me. I was a very proud man. Carni. Werewolf. I was just not about to let a young kid that Josiah could beat up with one hand behind his back speak to me that way.
“Listen, Chachi,” I said.
“What is a Chachi?” he asked. “What the fuck does that mean?”
“You never heard of Chachi?” I asked. “You know, Fonzie’s cousin.”
“I don’t give a shit who Chachi is!”
“You have never seen Happy Days?” I was more upset by that than by the stupid poker game. “You know, Joanie loves Chachi… Scott fucking Baio. Scott Baio Turns 50 and Unmarried.”
“Oh, that Chachi. That show on the oldies channel?”
“You have got to be kidding me. Oldies channel? Those are classic TV episodes!”
“When the fuck did this conversation become a talk about Nick at Nite?” Albert shouted back at me. “Listen to me, Kyro. You’re a fucking moron. There are ethics and etiquette in the game of poker. You don’t freaking talk if you’re if you’re not in the freaking hand! It disrupts the entire integrity of the game!” I could see the veins bulging in his neck. This guy had lost his lid. I fought the urge to laugh again.
“Settle down, brother,” I said. “You need to listen to my man, Dave, and know when it’s time to let it go. You lost 20 bucks and you’re acting like I made you lose $500?”
“It’s not about the money.”
“Then what is it about?”
Then ‘Albert the Kid’ stood up and said, “It’s about how fucking stupid you are. And that you have no manners when men are playing serious card games. Poker is sacred, you moron, you asshole, you c—”
That did it. Before he got the word out, I stood up, grabbed him by the shirt and threw him up against the wall. Albert took a swing at me and hit my chin.
Oof! Lucky punch. I felt like we should have Batman thought bubbles with fight words in them: Biff! Bamm! Ka-pow!
I took a step back and shook off the hit. I ducked and shot my upper body in between his legs and grabbed his shirt from the back and picked him up and body-slammed him on top of the hard, carpeted floor.
When we both hit the ground, he tried wrestling me and it was more than cute. I was two-time, all-state wrestling champion in the state of California. He knew quickly that I was an ox, and that he had no chance. He couldn’t even budge me in any direction.
“Give up?” I grunted.
“Fuck you,” he said and tried to wiggle away.
I pinned him back and I rammed my elbow into the side of his head, and he was out cold. “Fuck,” I whispered to myself. I had knocked out one of the Six Pack brothers, my own kind, over a stupid card game. I was definitely feeling some chagrin.
“Fuck, Kyro, you shouldn’t have fought him,” Dave said over my shoulder as one of the pack ran for ice and a washcloth for Albert. “He didn’t know that you’re a professional fighter. Do you think for one second, he would have even mouthed off to you if he knew he was doing it to Mike Tyson?”
“I’m more Hulk Hogan than Mike Tyson, but I get your point,” I said. I looked down at Albert and I could see him coming to. His eyes were rolled back in his head and he was now gaining some focus back. “Hey, Albert,” I said. “You awake?”
“Huh, what the hell happened?” Albert seemed lost.
“You and I were fighting.”
“I take it that I lost?” he asked.
The entire room laughed.
“You got a good punch in,” I said, trying to be a good guy.
“Dude, you’re a gorilla. You’re the strongest person I have ever fought. It was like trying to move a tractor.”
I looked at Albert and said, “It’s not your fault. You didn’t know that I used to be a professional MMA fighter.”
“What?” Eli said.
“Are you fucking with us?” Steve asked.
“Nope, I’m actually undefeated as a mixed martial arts fighter. Both amateur and pro.”
“So, I can sue you?” Albert asked.
“I hope not, but if you do, you can have my grandma, because that’s all I got,” I said jokingly.
“You can have your grandma. Just promise me you’ll teach me how to fight.”
“Deal. You want help getting up?”
“No, I’m good. I’m going to stay down here until the room quits spinning.”
Dave brought some ice in a towel and handed it to Albert, who pressed it to the side of his head where I had rammed my elbow. He winced.
“That might be all night that you need to stay down there. But we don’t have all night because the full moon will be here any minute.” I looked outside and it was about 30 minutes till the full moon. “I guess it’s going to be show time. It is our last one for the month.”
The group nodded, and we got ready to go outside and do some midnight exploring in our wolf forms. Albert eventually got up and I grabbed him a fresh ice pack for his head. He had a nice bump, compliments of my elbow.
Damn, I loved fighting.
Chapter Twelve
When I arrived back from my three-day excursion, it was a Thursday afternoon. One of the tricky details of our lie that we gave Maya’s parents is that the Army Reserve only met on the weekends. But then I had to convince them I was part of an elite reserve group that was a cross between Army Rangers and Navy Seals that met once a month on any day of the week. On call, I had said.
Daniel, Maya’s dad, was a smart man. Luckily, he didn’t ask too many questions. He just accepted it as something new that our military was doing. That’s the problem I found with lying. Trying to cover all the make-believe facts of a given lie usually ended up with me spewing about twenty more lies to cover all the bases of the first one. The other side of the coin was that I wasn’t exactly going to tell them that their daughter was dating a werewolf. Any lie was better than that truth.
I picked up Maya in the early morning and then we headed back to my apartment. I think our three days apart each month added more romance to our relationship. In the car, Maya and I held hands like a couple of junior high students. At stoplights, I would sneak in a kiss. I loved this woman. It must have shown on my face because Maya asked, “What’s with the goofy grin?”
“Any grin that is displayed on this handsome face can never be classified as goofy,” I said in my usual cocky tone. “But if you
’re referring to the irreverence of my smile, it’s because I am very in love with the woman sitting to my right.”
Maya immediately smothered my face with kisses. It almost made me send my car into the lane next to ours. That could have been bad because there was a school bus occupying that lane.
“You better watch it, hon. You don’t want to give this bus full of kids too much of a show.”
“What can I say? I love my man.” Maya looked so beautiful. She was wearing a lime green top with white jeans. The more ‘girlie’ she dressed, the cuter she looked. And she totally pulled off the ‘girlie’ look. Every day, she looked like she was going to a fashion shoot. Even her nails were perfect. Even her toenails. I think Maya groomed herself more than any cat I ever knew.
With that, I let out a loving sigh. “This is pretty good, isn’t it?” I asked.
“‘This’ being you and me?”
“That is the ‘this’ in question. Yes. You and me. I just think it’s odd how we get each other.”
“Do you get me?” Maya asked.
“Of course I get you.”
“So, you think you know everything about me?”
“Don’t I?”
“Okay… what’s my favorite color?”
“Red, because pink is nice, but red screams ‘I’m a color!’ That is an actual quote, by the way.”
“Wow, quotes and everything. I guess you do listen to me when it clearly appears to me that you’re not.”
“That’s my gift. I perfected it in high school. You give the illusion that you don’t give a shit, but secretly, you’re taking notes on everything the girl has to say. So, if you’re going to quiz me, I plan on bringing it,” I said jokingly.
“Okay, I gave you an easy one with the color question. I think even Josiah would know that answer. Here is a harder one. What am I most afraid of?”
She was right, that was a hard one. Maya had been through a lot just in the time she knew me. But I was sure I knew the answer. “Clowns,” I said.