%%USERNAME%%    %%ACCWORDS%% %%ONOFF%% |
 |
Adventures In Living With The Mythical |
|
A military veteran is adopted by a werewolf and brought into his pack. Insanity ensues. About "Life With A Werewolf" Life with a werewolf is a dramatic blog. As such the characters in this blog are not real but maybe loosely based on real people. The situations represented are not real but maybe loosely based on real things that have happened in my life. There are a multitude of ways to view life, this is simply one of the ways I have chosen to view mine. Updated Every Friday unless I can't or don't want to. If this is your first time reading this...start here: https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/1040400-Welcome-To-The-Pack My book, "Dreamers of The Sea" is available now on Amazon: https://a.co/d/0uz7xa3 |
| Sometimes life is like a slow-motion car wreck. You turn the wheel; you apply the break. Everything begins to skid. You try steering into the skid so you can steer out of it, but instead your car careens towards disaster almost of its own will, dragging you along with it. This slow-motion car wreck was the home of Charles and Nancy. This year for the holidays Charles and Nancy had a large group of people over. They appeared to be family, more of the hulderfolk variety, and by my best guess was related to Charles or Nancy in some capacity. These people weren’t exactly running amok around town. In fact, I think Charles would have preferred if they did run amok around town. Cause at least then they’d have left their home for five minutes or so gave them a moments peace. The family arrived a day or two before Christmas. They stayed through New Years. Then the week after that. “I think their calendar doesn’t have the necessary functions of keeping dates,” Charles told me outside of our local grocery store. “Cause I swear, they said that they’d stay through New Years, now they’re staying through Chinese New Year. How do you say ‘I love you but you need to leave?’” “You say, ‘Get out’,” I replied. “If that don’t work, ‘Don’t let the door hit you where the good lord split you.’ If that don’t work, ‘I’m going to call the cops.’ If that don’t work, take a page from my book and play Mariah Carey over and over again.” “Who,” he asked, head tilting a little. I shook my head. “Never mind.” “Still, Nancy loves them, and if we’re mean to them, they’ll not speak to us again. Plus, it’s her mother, her father and older brother. They’re loaded! She loves them, and she wants the money.” I arched an eyebrow. “You don’t?” “I just want peace.” “What do you want me to do,” I asked. “Talk to Crash. Tell him it’s an emergency. Tell him we’re breaking an ordinance, we’re violating a Ginova Contention,” “The Gineva Convention,” I corrected. “That too. Anything!” A troll trusts you when he’ll let you correct him once in a while without stomping you into giblets. Still though, part of me watched for the side eye. The subtle look of anger that would mean I’d need more than a pistol to defend myself. He just smiled, “If you could save me from my strife, I’d be most obliged.” I think he meant to say if I could help him, he’d be very thankful. I didn’t correct him on that one. I’m not pushing my luck! But such as hulderfolk goes, they don’t always know the correct words but are more than happy to whip out a ten-dollar word in a fifty-cent conversation if it means you’ll think of them smarter for it. This is why I call the guy Charles after the guy in MASH, after all. In a way, he reminds me of that character. The conversation meandered on for a while but as much as I kept trying to steer it away, it kept coming back towards me helping him. Finally, bitter cold from the chilled weather and desiring to just get my groceries and get out of there, I said “I make no promises, but I’ll look into it. I swear.” Of which I got a thousand thank yous. All the way into the store, in fact. I spoke to crash about it later on that day. He was wearing his suit and tie, and had the hang dog look of a man who had spent the entire day trying to catch up on paperwork. “I remember why I don’t like office days,” he grumbled as he came through the door. “Well, how about a night gig,” I asked. Then I explained the entire thing, to which Crash just chuckled. “Better you than me,” he said smiling. “What am I supposed to do, walk over and ask them politely,” I asked. Crash shrugged. “I have no idea. Politely is a good start, cause otherwise you’ll get pounded into mush and I’ll have to get a pack together to avenge you, and that will be terrible for everyone. Besides, I still have a mountain of paperwork to catch up on.” “Well,” I said, “then maybe you can deputize me.” “What?” Occasionally when I make a statement Crash thinks is truly stupid, he’ll head-tilt like a confused dog. He head tilted after that statement. “Yeah, I can better sell the official law routine if I have some sort of official badge. You deputize me and then I can clear them out of there.” He shook his head. “First of all, no. I can’t do that. Second, if I could deputize you, it would only be so you can do my paperwork so I can go out on patrol again. Third, they’ll see the badge, see you’re human, and eat you alive. No.” “What am I going to do then,” I grumbled. “I promised this guy I’d try to help. I don’t want to do it, why do I always get involved in this troll’s family affairs, why me?!” He laughed. “Cause you’re so good at it!” “I don’t want to be!” Then Crash gave me some sage advice that I had come to regret ever taking, because it has since proven to be true. He clasped me on the shoulder and said “You’re like the troll therapist or something. You have this gift of getting through to them. You’re better than me, even!” I rolled my eyes, which caused him to smile. “I’m serious! You’re pretty good at this. Just do what comes natural.” Just do what comes natural. Piss everyone off? That seems to be what comes natural to me. But I thought about it a bit more. I did eventually get to the bottom of Charles and Nancy’s whole marital problem thing. They seemed to be doing much better now that I spoke to them and gave them that whole notebook idea. Maybe what comes natural in this case is just listening, not belittling, and giving the best advice I can in the moment. Perhaps that’s most of what mental health really is? Listening, not belittling, and giving the best advice you can. I went over to Charles and Nancy’s house the next day. Snow had drifted down a bit, giving the neighborhood a clean look. Nature had done her own version of cleaning up. By which I meant she just covered everything and pretended it never happened. That was a house I never thought I’d ever see full. It was an entire house filled with air-headed beautiful people with tails. I’m sure there’s a schoolboy fantasy buried in this somewhere. Conversations kept wheeling and spinning around this and that. Presents had already been unwrapped and handed out. An occasional troll kid or two would chase each other around with a toy air plane or car powered by child energy and imagination. An elderly couple sat at the head of the table in the dining room. Nancy was next to what I assumed was her father. If a therapist has a nightmare about their job, this has to be it. To literally try to do the entire thing in front of an entire family. “So, uh, hi,” I said, with what I hoped was a soft smile. “Who are you,” the old grandma troll said. “Why are you smiling like idiot?” Nancy gave me an apologetic smile. “Mom, can I talk to him for a moment? This is my neighbor; he must want something.” She stood, grabbed my hand and dragged me to the bathroom. “Help,” she whispered. “I am drowning in my family. They won’t leave.” “I have a great idea,” I whispered back. “Just say ‘go home.’” “That will hurt momma and papa and my brother. I do not wish to do that. You’re good at these sorts of things. Can you help us?” Her pleading, pretty face led me to make my next move. And no, it didn’t involve a Bluetooth speaker and Mariah Carey. Though I was tempted. Weaving my way back through the crush of people, I sat down in front of Grandma and Grandpa troll. They both looked like the elderly Smiling Bob people. If they weren’t spokesman for a scam artist that is. “Why are you still here,” I asked. “You’re rude,” Grandma said. “And mean,” Grandpa said. “And what business of it is yours,” they said in unison. What can I say? My blunt nature don’t always work. “Well,” I said smiling again, “you see I was just curious cause you know Christmas is over, I came to visit my friends and they’re still in mid Christmas party like its….” They both rolled their eyes and looked at each other. Then they began to speak in troll, filled with grunts, and occasional eye rolls towards me. Nancy blanched at a couple of the comments, and began interjecting, shouting at the two of them who turned towards her shocked. “I love you both,” she said finally in English. “But I have a life to live.” “We’re here to help,” grandpa shouted back at her. “Your marriage has been in such trouble. Every troll can see that. You began to live in such a strange way. We must put things right.” No. This must be every therapist’s nightmare. Settling a Christmas party argument amongst family members that aren’t even yours! I wanted to pull my hair out. The volume began rising, shouting started swirling between troll and English. Eyes glanced more towards my eye, getting angrier and angrier. I was beginning to feel less like a helper and more like future Christmas dinner. Or a punching bag. Or something. In times like these, I have an old standby that has gotten me into more trouble and made things a lot worse most of the time. But still, closing your eyes and jumping does occasionally work out. Occasionally. “ALRIGHT!” I shouted. They kept right on shouting. “ENOUGH!” More shouting. They began to grow louder than me. A loud what I can only call a roar echoed through the house. I turned towards the door. There was Crash in full wolf form. Sun wasn’t even down yet. Locals didn’t seem to care. Guess they’re getting used to the werewolf stuff around here. I wonder if that’s a good thing? His dark fur struck fear in the heart of every troll there, who turned towards each other, then back to him. “He is in charge,” Crash said, pointing at me with a furred and clawed finger. “Listen to him. No one is to harm my human.” Then he turned and left. Gee. Thanks Crash. All eyes turned back towards me. A new look of respect and fear. It’s good to speak softly. To carry a big stick. But occasionally you must be prepared to speak loudly. To strut. “So,” I said, “what is the problem?” The grandma lifted herself up with as much dignity as she could and said, “they do not live the troll way. They live in a weird way. Sharing things that should not be shared. Doing things strangely now. Everyone hears it. We all hear it’s because of you.” “What business is it of yours,” I asked. “She’s my daughter!” I pointed at Charles in the corner. “And she’s his wife. They decide how they’re going to live their lives. You can still love them. No one wants to take that away from you. You’re allowed to love them, just like they’re allowed to love you. But you can’t tell them how to live their lives. Just like they don’t tell you how to live yours.” “B-but, she’s my daughter, and I’m afraid for her,” the grandma said. “They need our protection.” “You can’t smother them! You prepared them for life. You’ve given them all the tools they need to survive. You’ve given them morals and principles that they stand upon. I can tell you Charles and Nancy are two very good and very proud trolls. You have to let them be who they are. Who you helped make them to be.” They paused a moment. Everyone looked at each other. “You are right,” the grandma said. “But,” she leaned in closer. “They still need our protection.” She whispered. “Something is coming,” she said in hushed tones. “Bitter thing. Dark thing.” The grandpa almost rolled his eyes. “No one believes me,” she said, giving a dark glance to her husband. “But occasionally I see things. Very occasionally they come true.” “What is it this time,” I asked. “More vampires?” She smirked. “Ha! You wish. Much worse. We stay. We protect. We fix their marriage.” I said, “You remember that werewolf that said I’m in charge? He’s the one who protects this area. He’s got to,” “And he’s going to fix their marriage,” she rolled her eyes. “No. He just make things worse.” “So are you.” She sighed, then sat back. “No I am not. I am guiding them.” “Did they ask for your help,” I asked. She didn’t answer. “That’s what I thought. If they’re not asking for help, as much as you love her and Charles too, you have to let them go. Trust me, the morals and principles you instilled in your daughter are still there. You’re felt.” She turned to Charles, then back to her daughter. No words were spoken, but a lot was communicated in the glance they gave each other. The communication only close family can give. “Okay,” she sighed. Then she smacked me. “Go get your master.” “He’s not my master,” I grumbled under my breath, but I left and grabbed Crash. What happened after I’m told was lots of hugs, a few tears and apologies, and then everyone went home. The troll party finally broke up and ended very successfully. Though, I will not blame neither Charles nor Nancy if they both decide to never hold another Christmas party. Crash came home that night and gave me a smile. He tried to be brave but I could see a brief look of worry in it. “Come along slave,” he smirked burying the look with humor, grabbing my shoulder as he did so. “Yes massta,” I mumbled, arching my back and pretending to be the hunch back from a Mel Brooks movie. As he turned to go inside, I threw a snow ball at him. “What,” he began. “Fleas masta,” I growled. “Slave must attack fleas that attack masta!” What commenced was a snow ball fight that devolved into Crash snapping at snow balls, and ended with me getting buried in armloads of snow. Never have a snow ball fight with a werewolf. “Uncle!” I cried “Uncle!” I was pelted with an avalanche of cold wet stuff as more began to come down. “I think we’ll be okay,” he said. I nodded. “I hope so,” I huffed. Out of breath. “Those silver bullets you have? Get more. Lots more.” With that, he went inside. I still don’t know what that meant. But whatever it is, I’m preparing. If it’s enough to freak a werewolf out, it’s enough to put the fear of God in me. But at least Charles and Nancy are okay in their marriage. For now. I swear, I do another of these things, I’m going to start charging them therapist rates. |
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
