My Date with a Wendigo

by Genevieve McCluer

  When the door closes, he smiles. “You can call me Kevin, by the way.”

  “I’m Liz. Is there any way you can make her give me my stuff back?”

  He sighs sympathetically. “She’s just worried about you. If you’d like, I can get you an outside line, and you could try calling her.”

  “Yes, please. I need to talk to her.”

  He hits a few buttons on the phone, and I give him the number. I’m glad I had it memorized since I was fourteen. He holds the phone to my head for me. I can do it myself, but he’s being so nice that I don’t want to fight about it. I’m already doing enough of that with Sandra.

  “Liz?” Her voice is as calm as ever, but I know she’s frantic. She answered before the first ring even finished.

  “Hey, Abby. I don’t know what Sandra messaged you, but it’s not true. I’m okay, and I love you.”

  A whistling breath sounds through the phone. I’m really starting to think that’s cute. “Oh thank God. I was so worried. The message she sent, you sounded furious. So that really wasn’t you?”

  That fucking bitch. “No. It wasn’t me.”

  “Okay. Good. Did they say how long you’ll be there? I want to see you so badly, but I can’t.”

  “I know, honey.” I close my eyes, imagining her next to me. I can almost feel her hand stretching from my shoulder to my elbow. “It sounds like it’ll be a few days, but I’ll try to keep you up to date.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Abby, I just want you to know, I never blamed you for the other night.”

  “You didn’t?”

  “No. I’m the one who messed up. I should’ve listened to you. I’m sorry.”

  “I’m sorry too. For that, obviously, that was awful, and you have every right to be mad at me for it, but mainly for making it all so tough for you. It was scary, but I didn’t actually freak out for any of it. I just thought I would. Well, except when I had that scone.” She pauses, accompanied by another whistle. “James had a suggestion that I really didn’t like, but it would probably solve our problems. Maybe a muzzle instead of a gag, though. If you still even want to do anything, I mean. I think I can handle it now. I can’t imagine wanting to eat you anymore, but I just want to be careful. It’s not important right now. Your recovery is what matters. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be bringing this up. I’ve just been running through that night over and over again, thinking of all the different ways it could’ve gone. Maybe I could get one specially made.”

  “You don’t need it.”

  “Yes, I do, just to be safe.”

  “Fine. I’m too high to fight. I would still love to do that with you, so if that’s what it takes, then sure. They might have time to make it too. Who knows how long my recovery will actually take.”

  “Okay. I love you.”

  “I love you too.” I can feel the smile tugging at my lips. I feel so much better now that she knows I’m okay, and we even worked through the elephant in the room while we were at it. I can handle the rest of my stay here. “Sandra should be back any minute. I should probably get going, and you should get to sleep.”

  “Okay. You take care of yourself. Can I call this number?”

  I look at my nurse, still standing calmly over me, holding the phone. “Kevin, would she call this number?”

  “I think so. If she needs the room number, it’s 341.”

  “Sounds like it, but it’s room 341 if that doesn’t work. What hospital?”

  “St. Joseph’s.”

  “I’m at St. Joseph’s.” We bid our farewells, and hopefully, she actually goes to sleep. She must need it as badly as I did. Sandra walks in and continues insulting Abby to Kevin and me for as long as we’ll listen, but at least I know that Abby doesn’t believe her anymore. I’ll deal with Sandra when I’ve recovered.

  * * *

  Three days in the hospital is far too long. Fortunately, they finally release me. I was tempted to release myself, but I’ve been in no rush to spend more time recovering at Sandra’s house. I want to be at Abby’s.

  Unfortunately, Sandra seems to have other plans. It’s a Saturday, so she doesn’t have to go into work. She hasn’t left my side all day, and we’re waiting for my release to go through. Then I’ll be out of here and stuck with her bitching and trying to keep me from seeing my girlfriend. She still hasn’t given me my phone back, and now I won’t have the room phone to rely on either. Never thought I’d miss people having home phones.

  Kevin drops in with my paperwork. “It looks like you’re ready to go. Try not to hang out with any more pit bulls for a while, and you should be fine.”

  “Thank you.” I don’t know what I would’ve done without him. He helped me wrangle Sandra and let me call Abigail whenever I could. I hated waking her up, but talking to her all day while Sandra was at work was a vital part of my recovery. I thought about trying to ban Sandra from my room, but she still had all my stuff, and it seemed like it would be more work than it’s worth.

  We make it back to her apartment, and she tries to help me up the stairs. “I have stitches in my neck, not my leg. I’m fine.” I tug my arm away and make the climb on my own.

  She huffs but doesn’t try again, opening the door without a word.

  I’m wearing a new pair of clothes she bought. My car keys were nowhere to be found in my old clothes and neither was my phone, thanks to Sandra. Abby explained that my car was back at her place, but she didn’t have any way to bring it to me. She could maybe fit in a car if she curled up in the back seat. The height is bad enough, especially for my sedan, but she’s too bulky. I wonder what kind of cars basketball players drive. They’re a bit shorter than her, but that’d probably work.

  Sandra sets some things on the counter, and I plop down on the couch. I’m sick of this. I just want my phone. “Are you going to let me go home?”

  “I want to keep an eye on you over the weekend. I don’t want you running back to her.”

  “I kind of need to get my car. Gonna be pretty tough to go to work without it.”

  “I could get it for you. What’s her address?”

  Slumping back, I place my feet on her coffee table. “Never mind.”

  “Then I’ll drop you off at work on Monday.”

  This is kidnapping, right? “Are you going to do this forever?”

  “Only until you get your shit together. You know this isn’t okay, right? You showed up here, buck naked with a dagger strapped to your back, shaking and terrified, and then you try to run back to her.”

  Okay, that is pretty hard to explain. I didn’t think she’d noticed the dagger. So I don’t bother trying. “Give me my phone.”

  I can almost hear her rolling her eyes. “I’m going to go get us dinner. What do you want?”

  Great. I’m actually hungry. “A burger and poutine? I’m tired of hospital food. I want something gloriously unhealthy.”

  “Fine. I’ll be right back.”

  As soon as I hear her car roll out of the parking lot, I dash to the kitchen, checking the assortment of items from the hospital, desperate to find my phone. It’s not there. Does she seriously still have it on her? How crazy is she? I grab her laptop from under her bed and manage to sign in. She hasn’t changed her password since college. I use a website to call my phone and don’t hear anything. That means she has it, it’s dead, or both.

  I log in to my mobile carrier’s website and check my messages. No fucking way. Sandra, you are quite literally the worst person I’ve ever met, and at this point, most of my friends used to eat people. I find the messages she wrote: I can’t do this anymore, not after everything you’ve done to me. I thought this would be a dream, but it’s been a nightmare. Stay away from me. I don’t want anything to do with you. We’re done. The responses are a series of increasingly confused and worried messages from Abby, all of which she ignored. Who the fuck does this? Who dumps their friend’s girlfriend for them?

  I use the site to message Abby. I’m out of the hospital, but Sand
ra won’t let me leave her place. I hesitate. Should I give her Sandra’s address? It’s a terrible idea, but I’m not sure I have a better one. Maybe I could try a taxi, but I don’t have my purse. I don’t want to give any human friend Abby’s address. It’d require too much explaining. I give in. It’s the only choice. I send the message quickly and close the window, trying to switch to something more innocent in case Sandra returns. Wow, she has a lot of porn tabs open. I slam the thing shut and put it back under her bed. Abby will save me. I just have to sit tight and put up with my friend who has clearly gone off the deep end. Maybe I should have eaten her.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Abigail

  What am I going to do? She’s not in any danger, right? Or is she? She hasn’t responded to my last three messages. I can’t run through town, though. Should I see if someone else can help?

  I stare at her message again. She gave me the address. She must want me there. If I bundle up really well and avoid letting anyone see me too closely, it should be okay. I can run away if there’s an issue.

  Can I handle being around all those people? Ben said that I can’t count on the idea that I don’t want to eat anymore.

  It’s worth the risk. For her, I can handle it. I have to. She needs my help. Before I have time to rethink my decision or come up with an actual plan, I throw on a hoodie and sweats, and run to the address. I’m so glad phones have GPS.

  It takes me over an hour to get there, and by the time I do, the sun’s already down. Hopefully, I won’t stand out too much. I climb the stairs in two strides and find the door to the apartment. What am I doing? This doesn’t make any sense. I should leave. I can come get her when Sandra’s asleep. I didn’t think this through at all. I should have at least brought the muzzle.

  I can smell so many people. It’s terrifying. I still feel that same familiar hunger, but all it stirs within me is the image of her, terrified, dagger in hand, running away from me. I won’t let it happen again. I steady my breathing and listen to the apartment complex. Conversations filter out from every building. It takes a moment, but I manage to place one of the voices as Sandra’s. I still remember it. And there’s Liz. She’s so close. I want to hold her and take her away from this, but how can I do it without revealing myself?

  “What the hell were you thinking?” Sandra’s all but screaming.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Liz is fighting to stay calm. She doesn’t want to give away any more than Sandra already knows.

  “You gave that psycho my address.”

  “She’s not a psycho!” There’s a thump. Sandra takes a step toward her. Liz’s breath catches. “The only psycho here is you.”

  What is she doing to her? I have to help. I feel every muscle in my body tense, only held in inaction by the fear of showing myself.

  “I just want to keep you safe.” Sandra’s so close to her, their breathing is almost mixed. “What the hell is your problem?” I can smell the adrenaline. Was that thump her hitting Liz? She wouldn’t.

  I hear another loud thump, and I can’t wait anymore. I have to act. I knock the door down without breaking stride, and in a second, Liz is in my arms as Sandra’s fist slams against a wall. Not the wall Liz was pressed against.

  She wasn’t hitting her.

  Sandra stops and turns, agonizingly slowly and yet so fast I haven’t even moved. Her eyes widen, her mouth dropping open. She screams.

  I should’ve just grabbed Liz and run. I had time. What the hell is wrong with me? “Sandra,” I try, but I have no idea where to go from there.

  Liz coughs, rubbing at her neck. “Well, Sandra, this is Abby. I know you’ve met, but it’s been a while.”

  Thanks, Liz. Real helpful. “Hi.” I hold up one long-clawed hand and wave casually. This may be the most awkward situation I’ve ever been in.

  “Could you set me down?” Liz asks. “I need a second. Moving like that kinda…” She falters as her feet hit the ground, almost falling. “I don’t breathe as well as I used to.”

  I had thought it was the phone before, but her voice is different too. That’s my fault. The vampire wouldn’t have done so much damage if I hadn’t ripped him off of her along with all that skin. “I’m sorry.”

  “So this is who hurt you!” Sandra brandishes Liz’s dagger. “What are you? You’re not Abby. Do you have her under some kind of spell?”

  “So that’s where my dagger went.” Liz collapses on the couch. “She didn’t hurt me. It was a vampire. She saved me. I’d gotten in over my head.”

  “What?” Sandra’s eyes turn to Liz, the blade still pointed at me.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake.” I snatch the weapon out of her hand and drop her on the couch next to Liz and sit cross-legged on the floor before them. “How about we have a talk like civilized adults? You already kidnapped my girlfriend. You don’t need to go and threaten me with a knife too.”

  “Kidnapped? Me? You’re the monster here. Don’t try to change things. I was trying to look after her.”

  “They prefer ‘fiends,’ actually,” Liz explains, her hand resting on her injured neck. “Be nice to her.” She’s breathing slowly, trying to steady herself. “Just give me a second, and I’ll explain everything.”

  “How about this thing explains? Are you even Abby? You have her voice, but that’s about it.” She stares up and down my massive form. “You sure as hell don’t look like her.”

  “I have everyone’s voice,” I grumble back in her own voice. “I do, however, have my memories, my feelings, and my life. I haven’t done anything to Liz other than love her and try to be as good for her as I can despite my”—I gesture at myself—“limitations.”

  “Limitations? You’re a giant monstrous freak.”

  Liz glares at her. “She isn’t a monster, and she’s not a freak.” She rises and walks toward me, her steps more stable than they were a moment ago. She drops into my lap, draping an arm over me as she rests her head on my chest. “She’s the love of my life. I don’t care what form she takes. It’ll always be true.”

  I place the softest kiss I can manage on the top of her head. “I’m sorry about the door, but I thought you were going to hurt her.”

  “I would never.” Her eyes are wide again, now burning with outrage rather than fear.

  “You did kidnap me and break up with my girlfriend over text.”

  “I—”

  “And you were yelling at her and hitting a wall,” I add.

  “Well—”

  “Plus, Kevin said you were stopping some people from seeing me.”

  “I didn’t know who they were.” She stares, horror clear on her face again.

  I wrap an arm around Liz. “I know you wanted to keep her safe, but you were treating her like a prisoner.”

  “I didn’t want her to go back to you. You didn’t see what she was like the other night. She was terrified and completely out of her mind, and that’s because of you. If you weren’t going to keep her safe, someone had to. She’s my best friend. I’ve been worried sick about her.” She wipes her eyes as she takes a shuddering breath, tears sprinkling her blouse. “Liz, what was I supposed to think? You wouldn’t tell me anything. I wasn’t allowed to see Abby. You kept defending her despite looking more and more scared and sleep-deprived.”

  “Okay, she does deprive me of sleep,” Liz says, her lips trailing up my neck.

  “You and…” She points in my direction. “That thing! You had…how? Why? What?”

  “How? Do you need a demonstration?” Liz asks.

  “Jealous?” I suppose I never could resist fucking with Sandra.

  She rolls her eyes. “Okay, you two are still you. I believe it now. No one other than Elizabeth Rosseau and Abigail Lester could drive me half this crazy.”

  “You were crazy when I met you,” Liz says.

  That seems to have defused the tension, at least. Sandra’s still terrified and angry, but she seems more disturbed than horrified at this point. “How did this happ
en? What are you now?”

  Liz and I tell the story, each filling in parts the other leaves out, though not going into too much detail on my eating my parents. Some things are a bit too much. We also completely skip over any mention of killing after that. We are trying to make me look good, after all. “Holy fuck.”

  Sandra covers her mouth, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks. “That’s all possible? Monsters are real? She’s really a wendigo? You weren’t kidding? And you’re okay with all this?”

  “Yes, I told you, the term’s ‘fiend.’ I told you that on Wednesday. I was not kidding, and yes, I am so okay with it. She’s brought a whole new world to me, one that’s far more interesting than I ever thought possible. One that’s full of people who could really use a good therapist.” She chuckles. It sounds so much drier than it used to, as if she’s picked up a decade of smoking in the past week. “This is all I want. I love her.” Her fingers intertwine with mine, and she closes her eyes. “Now that we have all that sorted out, if you call her anything like that again, I’m uninviting you from our wedding.”

  What? Our what? My mouth drops open, but I promptly close it, not wanting to show my fangs. “Liz?”

  She squeezes me tightly. “Our eventual wedding. Don’t go freaking out just yet.”

  Right. Okay. That makes sense. We’re really gonna get married? I tear up a little picturing us at the altar.

  Sandra deflates, nodding solemnly. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you. Now, please don’t tell anyone about her.” Liz leans forward, desperation seeping into her voice. We’ve risked a lot sharing all of this.

  Sandra sucks her teeth. Liz has just asked an impossible favor of her, and she’s been through a lot already. I’m still mad, but I can empathize. “Will she pay for my door?”

  “Will you give Liz her phone back and stop trying to control her?”

  With a sigh, she produces the device from her pocket and takes a few hesitant steps toward me. Far enough away that she has to lean over and fully extend her arm to Liz. I could still snatch her in an instant. All she’s doing is setting herself off balance. “Here.”