by Nancy Holder
“It’s a self-improvement seminar,” Trick said. “A guy named Jack Bronson—”
Ed growled and gave his head a shake, then drank his beer.
“I heard about it on the plane.” Katelyn cut in before he could say anything more. “ ‘We all have a wolf side.’ ”
“Except for me. I’m just a big kitty cat,” Trick said, winking. He stood, pressing his feet into the boots, and she was disappointed that the porch light bleached the green from his eyes. Then he stepped out of the glare, becoming a silhouette once more.
“Keep your powder dry,” he tossed back, then loped into the rain. She was going to see him Monday. An unbelievably cute guy was her ride to school. Her stomach did a little flip at the thought.
“Let’s have dinner,” Ed said, coming up beside her.
“I thought you didn’t have any food,” she replied.
He raised a brow. “You didn’t want company. I got an eggplant Parmigiana ready to microwave. Tomorrow we’ll go to the farmers’ market for fresh vegetables.”
“You knew I was a vegetarian?” she asked him, surprised not only by his “empty cupboard” performance, but also by the fact that maybe he knew something about her.
“Gimme some credit, gal.”
He headed for the kitchen. She thought about the rats and tried to swallow down the acid that flooded her mouth.
“I’ll pass.”
“I might have exaggerated about the rats,” he said over his shoulder. “Trick tends to eat me out of house and home.”
So he hung out with her grandfather? She wondered why. Didn’t he have a family of his own? Maybe it would have been all right if he’d stayed for dinner. He could have been a buffer between Ed and her. She was a little sorry now that she’d acted so put out by his unexpected visit.
“What did he mean by ‘court thing’?” she asked, trailing after Ed.
“A few of the local inbreds tried to pin some break-ins on him. Suspicion was cast, so the judge said for him to make sure he’s invited into any houses he enters. She meant it as a joke but Trick’s made it his mission to follow her orders to the letter.”
“Because … of his kind?” she asked uncomfortably. With the exotic combination of his dark brown skin, green eyes, and striking Asian bone structure, he’d have a modeling contract in five minutes in L.A. But out here …
“Sure. Same as in your school, I’m guessing.”
She was abashed. “Um, California …”
“Right. Everybody there is a drama nerd.”
“Drama,” she said slowly. “His kind is drama nerds?”
He walked into the kitchen. “Yeah. Writes poetry, too. No wonder he gets beat up all the time.”
“Is he gay?” she asked. She knew it was lame to ask, but …
He guffawed. “Trick? No. Definitely not. But I’ve ordered him to be a gentleman around you. If he takes one step out of line, you tell me. I’ll set him straight.”
She smiled faintly, amused and relieved by his assessment of Trick, and appreciative of his thoughtfulness. Maybe he wasn’t so bad.
“There’s your connection with civilization,” he said, reaching underneath a cabinet and pulling out a telephone. She stretched out her hand for it just as another howl filtered through the room. He shook his head. “Idiots. Probably all from the city.”
Yeah. From a beautiful city full of cell phone coverage, Katelyn thought.
She dialed Kimi’s number and Kimi picked up on the first ring.
“Katie!” Kimi shrieked. “Finally. God!”
“That’s me,” Katelyn said, smiling at the sound of Kimi’s voice.
“Is it as bad as we thought?”
Katelyn cast a furtive glance at her grandfather, who was bustling around the kitchen. She wished he would just leave so she could have some privacy. She felt weird with him in the room. “You could say that.”
“No upside?”
An image of Trick passed through her mind, but she dropped it. “What’s going on back home?”
“You’re not here.”
“I miss you, too,” Katelyn murmured, swallowing hard. She was afraid she might start crying again.
The microwave dinged and her grandfather made a point of moving around her to get to it. She clenched her teeth. “Well, I’ve got to go—dinner’s ready. I’ll call again later.”
“You can’t go!” Kimi protested. “How was the flight, what’s it like there, and—”
“I do have to go.” Katelyn’s voice trembled as she tried to hold back the tears. “It’s time for dinner.” She was suddenly not hungry in the least. All she wanted in the world was to be home with Kimi and her family.
“You’re probably eating squirrels,” Kimi said. “Oh, my poor baby.”
“Eggplant Parmigiana.” Katelyn had to dig deep to add lightness to her tone. “But the microwave is powered by squirrels.”
A smile flickered over her grandfather’s face. She refused to acknowledge it.
“I miss you so much already,” Kimi whined.
“Same,” Katelyn replied, her stomach twisting into knots. Her friend could never imagine how badly she missed her.
“Okay, go eat with the enemy.”
“Bye,” Katelyn said softly. With all the resolve at her command, she hung up and faced her jailer.
“Want a glass for your soda?” he asked her.
He would never understand her, not anything about her. He didn’t even know what he had done to her by dragging her to this godforsaken place.
He was waiting for her answer. The best she could manage was a nod.
When she finally crawled into bed, she was exhausted. She stared up at the ceiling and listened to all the sounds of the night in this new place. Everything was different than it was back home. Even the smells. She thought she might never be able to sleep, but her exhaustion was so absolute, so complete, that she was out within minutes.
She startled awake hours later and lay still in the dark, heart pounding, as she tried to decide what had woken her. The rain was still coming down hard and she listened to it for a moment, trying to calm herself down. Her mouth felt dry and chalky and she desperately wanted something to drink.
After a minute, she got up and tiptoed into the hall. Her grandfather’s door was closed and she hurried down the stairs as quickly and quietly as she could, wincing when the floorboards creaked beneath her. A bolt of lightning outside threw everything into sudden relief and she jerked as the eyes of the animal heads flashed, staring at her. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and made it to the bottom.
Coals glowed in the fireplace. Suddenly she was back in her house, with her mom. She remembered how soft her mother’s hair was, the lilt of her French accent. How she had fallen apart after Daddy died.…
It’s happening to me, too, she realized. Then she took a deep breath. No. I’m okay.
She stumbled into the kitchen. Moonlight filtered in through the half-open drapes above the sink and illuminated the heavy rains reflected on the peeled counters. She fumbled for the light switch, but it wasn’t where she thought it would be. Feeling along the wall, she still couldn’t find it. Remembering all the dead animal heads, she jerked back her hand, afraid she might run into one she hadn’t noticed during dinner.
Lightning crackled, making her jump. She thought of the mudslides that happened in L.A. when it rained this hard. The road to the cabin was unpaved, little more than a trail. Would she even be able to get to school on Monday? It was Friday now. Would she be stuck in this cabin, eventually running out of food?
Maybe he’ll just go shoot us some.
She tried to tell herself she was making a joke, but it wasn’t funny. None of this was funny. She hated it here.
Shoulders tight, arms crossed, she walked to the drainer in the semidarkness. She retrieved a glass, went to the sink, and turned on the faucet with a shaking hand.
Then she froze. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and her face prickled.
Someone is watching me, she thought.
But all she saw in the space between the curtains was the occasional strobe of raindrops falling in the moonlight, almost like blinking eyes.
Shadows shifted; something was moving out there.
Trees, she told herself. Squirrels.
Katelyn couldn’t remember if her grandfather had locked the back door. She stepped forward, and then … that same scratching. She took a step backward. Then she heard something low and rumbling. Thunder, or a growl? Scared, she flew across the kitchen, smacking against the edge of the dining table. Wincing at the pain, she turned to flee.
She ran all the way up the stairs and into her room. She got her stuffed bear and held it to her chest and stared up at her skylight. The rain pounded down, hard, almost like someone knocking to come in.
“I’m not inviting you,” she said aloud.
But there was knocking—on her door.
“Katie?” her grandfather called. “Everything okay?”
Her face went hot. Now, with the light on, and having awakened him, she felt silly. “I went to get some water. I thought I saw something moving.” She hesitated. “And a noise. Maybe like something growling. Out back.”
“I’ll check.”
She grimaced, embarrassed, but she couldn’t deny the soothing feeling of relief that coursed through her—followed by a prickle of alarm, in case there was something out there.
“I’ll go with you,” she announced as she got out of bed, crossed the room, and cracked open the door.
He was already halfway down the stairs, carrying a rifle tucked under his arm. He turned and said, “No, Katie, you go on back to bed. I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“Then why do you have a rifle?” she asked.
“Stay in your room,” he ordered, and she flinched, stunned by the harshness of his voice. There was no way on earth he thought it was nothing.
Still, she did as she was told, crossing her arms and standing in the center of her room, certain something was about to happen. She shifted her weight, braced for another catastrophe. She could feel panic circling her. The walls of the room seemed to press in.
It felt as if she stood there for hours, tense, frightened, waiting. Finally she decided she’d had enough. She strode to the door, yanking it open—
And found her grandfather on the other side, with his hand raised to knock on it.
“Oh,” she said, startled. She took a step backward.
His clothes and hair were wet. The rifle was gone; he was wiping his face with a towel. He looked grim, and her heart stuttered. Had he found something?
“Here’s the thing,” he said. Then he cleared his throat. “May I come in?”
She nodded, moving away from the door. There was one chair; assuming that he’d sit in it, she perched on the edge of her bed. But he remained standing. He folded the towel as if taking a few moments to consider his words. He was scaring her, and the suspense was leaving her breathless.
“About two weeks ago, a girl was killed,” he began.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she said, alarmed. “Was it someone you knew?”
“She was mauled. In the forest.” He gave her a long look. “She was out alone.”
Katelyn waited. And then she got it. They lived in the forest. His house was surrounded by trees.
“I’ll stay out of there.” She nodded at him as the reality hit her. “I promise.” Then she added, “I’m not a hiker. Or a mountain person. I’m a beach person.”
“I’m not kidding about this.” He regarded her sternly. “She is dead.”
“I don’t mean to sound like I don’t care,” she said. She did care. In fact, she was terrified. “I swear to you. I promise you, I won’t go out alone.”
He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something else. Then he sighed, nodded, and said, “All right. Good night, Katie.”
“Good night, Ed.” Her stomach churned. She was sorry for the girl who had died, but furious with her grandfather for dragging her to live where she couldn’t even go for a walk for fear of being ripped apart by a wild animal. She grabbed a pillow and almost threw it at the door. Instead, she hugged it against her chest, bowed her head, and whispered, “I want to leave. Please, let me leave.”
Katelyn’s grandfather’s news scared her, but more than that, she began to worry that they were never going to leave the cabin again, even in the daylight. It drizzled and thundered all weekend, and rain, lightning, and mud were all she saw of her supposed new hometown. Because of the weather—or so he said—there was no trip to the farmers’ market, no sightseeing in town, but Katelyn realized she was fine with that. She wasn’t ready to face the world. She missed her old one way more than she could stand.
The fireplace burned night and day, and Katelyn’s phobia—and all the animal heads—kept her out of the living room. She found a picture of her parents and her hanging on the wall next to the staircase and sat for a while and stared at them, all happy and laughing together, until she couldn’t handle it anymore. She was exhausted, and aside from talking to Kimi, mostly she slept.
She and Ed seemed to get along better, smirking at the howls and the drums beating away in the bad weather. Katelyn thought of the Wolf Man from the plane and pictured him sitting in a gray rain poncho, urging his inner executive wolf to emerge.
Though she slept a lot, she didn’t sleep well. Whenever she closed her eyes and began to drift, she was back in her house as it collapsed around her. She dreamed of her mother, falling, falling forever into blackness, arms stretched to Katelyn, who dove after her, plummeting and never catching her.
She jerked awake a dozen times, shaking, pulling the covers up around her chin and staring up at her skylight. Leaves plunked onto the wet glass, obscuring the view, which was fine with her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her. Though in the light of day she was sure that was just nerves.
On Monday, it was barely dawn when she got up. Her grandfather made her some oatmeal for breakfast; also, coffee. She was surprised again when he handed her lunch. He’d packed her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and an apple. Despite herself, she found that completely sweet.
Trick showed promptly at six-thirty, in a creased brown leather bomber jacket, a white T-shirt, jeans, and his cowboy boots. Yawning, he asked for and received some oatmeal and coffee, too.
“You look good,” he told her. She was wearing an embroidered indigo jacket, a long-sleeved gauze blouse, jeans, white socks, and Mary Janes. She and Kimi had snagged all of it except for the socks at various vintage shops and thrift stores in West Hollywood. Underneath the blouse, she was wearing a blue silk camisole.
“Thanks.” She didn’t know what people wore at Wolf Springs High School. Her mind filled with images of girls in cutoff denim shorts and guys in overalls, twirling pieces of straw in their mouths. She knew that was snarky but she couldn’t shake it.
She expected his car to be a beat-up truck like her grandfather’s and was surprised when he led her toward a lovingly restored vintage light green Mustang with black leather interior. He grinned at her and held open the door while she climbed in, settling her backpack on her lap.
“Sweet ride, right?” he asked proudly, slipping behind the wheel.
He turned on the engine, which purred like a tiger, and they began to roll. From the porch, her grandfather waved. She gave him a little wave back. It began to rain.
They blazed away, into the rain and the greenery. The Mustang held the curves and Trick punched on an iPod. “Smoke on the Water” poured through car speakers.
“Cheery,” she drawled, then cocked her head casually. “So … my grandfather told me you get beaten up for writing poetry.”
“Oh, shit.” He laughed. “Maybe when I was four. He’s just trying to make me sound like a loser to lessen your attraction to me.” He shot her a grin and pressed down on the gas. “He wants me to be your androgynous best friend.” The car shot through the trees and flew around the
corner. “Just FYI, Kat, I’m not androgynous.”
“My name’s not Kat,” she replied, hiding her own smile.
“It is now. Okay, you can get cell coverage here. Go for it.”
Even though she knew it was rude, Katelyn texted Kimi for the rest of the ride. Kimi had been waiting to hear from her, so she was texting back at what was an ungodly hour in California. Katelyn glanced up every now and then to steal a glance at Trick. He didn’t seem to mind being ignored. He just kept driving like a maniac through the dense woods and heavy rain; she half expected to wind up in a ditch. Then as they began to climb upward, Trick gave the car more gas. Trees bowed above them, creating a tunnel of total darkness. Still the rain came down. The beams of the Mustang’s headlights cast blurs of yellow on thick trunks, which Trick dodged with ease, and strobed against the raindrops.
“Brace for impact,” he said.
Katelyn turned to ask what he was talking about right as they shot out of the tree tunnel. Then, pressing through the rain, they crested a plateau and Katelyn caught her breath. Below them, a Victorian village spread out like a miniature Charles Dickens town beneath a Christmas tree. Intricate brick-and-wood structures were topped with gables and chimneys. Baskets decorated with orange and red flowers hung from curved lampposts. The streets were narrow and cobbled. Rain fell in buckets.
It was nothing like she’d thought it would be. No tractors parked on the street or broken-down trailers. “Is this a theme park?” she asked, only half joking.
“There’s the school.”
She followed his hand as he slowed and joined a parade of cars and trucks—lots of trucks—feeding from another road down a steep hill. There was honking and waving. Two yellow buses pulled up beside a large wooden building with wraparound porches on both floors. A pitched roof folded in angles among overhanging turrets and dormer windows. On top of the building an LED sign spelled out W-O-L-F-C-O-U-N-T-R-Y.
“Crap, I forgot my hoopskirt,” she moaned, mostly to make his smile bigger.
Score.
“Does this bustle make my butt look big?” he said, playing along.
The parade wound down the side of the village. The overabundance of cute was cut by a low gray self-storage building and a ramshackle convenience store. She couldn’t wait to tell Kimi that they had been 90 percent wrong about Banjo Land—which was a relief.