George Washington Werewolf (11 page)

“The
Farmer’s Almanack?
” For a moment Hamilton was taken aback. “Yes sir, I am.”

“Excellent. So I would like you to consult the Almanack for the days of the month when the moon is full…”

“Sir?”

“And on those days and those days alone you will ride out to the Musgrave farm. Once there your task will be simple, and to you perhaps even meaningless, yet I assure you it is of the utmost importance.”

“Yes sir, I am yours to command.”

“Very good. So when you are inside the Musgrave house you will find the door to the basement. On the evening of the full moon precisely one hour before the moon is to rise you will lock the basement door and retain the key on your person at all times. And the following morning precisely one hour after dawn you will return to the house and unlock the basement, leaving the key on the nail by the door. And then you will leave and repeat this again until the cycle of the full moon is complete.”

“And then what, General?”

“Then you will repeat this exact procedure the next month and every month to follow until I say otherwise. Is that
clear
, Colonel Hamilton?”

“Absolutely, General Washington, sir!”

Washington was surprised that it had gone so well. He looked at the young officer’s face and saw the utmost trust and respect. He had chosen his protector well.

“So will there be anything
else
, sir?” Hamilton inquired.

“No, Colonel, that will be all. You are dismissed.”

“Yes sir.”

And Hamilton offered a crisp salute and then left the tent, being saluted himself by a barefoot private on the way out who held threadbare shoes in his hand. And what neither he nor George Washington knew was that this Private, one Solomon Bundy, was quite skilled in the art of eavesdropping as he had overheard every word.

But maybe it
was
a dream, Washington said to himself as he was left to his own thoughts. A delusion brought on by stress, fatigue, and overwork. After all, it
was
too unbelievable to be true. But then the General pulled up his shirtsleeve. The bite marks were there, healing nicely, but still there.

The Vernal Equinox brought with it warm spring weather, and from the muddy earth came purple and blue crocuses, and from the forsythia bushes bright yellow blossoms. And for a few days the camp at Valley Forge was filled with color.

George Washington however likened his own thoughts to the mud that was all around—shapeless, messy, opaque—without any spring flowers in sight. So it was with even more confusion that he agreed to meet with Baron Von Steuben, to discuss “a matter of great military significance”. Since “the event”, Washington had tried his best to avoid the Baron, but after many entreaties he finally acquiesced.

“General Washington,” Von Steuben began, “I am so pleased you agreed to see me. If you don’t mind, I’ll come right to the point…”

“Please do.”

“When I was on the staff of Frederick the Great of Prussia he had his eyes on Silesia, Frederick that is. But the war did not go as smoothly as he had hoped. And then we realized that we had in our possession a great weapon of war that would make us invincible…”

“And what would that be, Baron?”

Von Steuben smiled. “Our
curse
, General. Some might say our
gift
… We created an entire company of werewolves and then we unleashed them on the enemy. And by the time the full moon cycle was complete we had conquered Silesia!”

There was a long awkward silence before Washington finally spoke.

“You want to
infect
my army? To turn them into these…
creatures
so we can defeat the British?”

“That is precisely what I’m proposing…”

Another pause.

“Thank you, Baron…” Washington said, suddenly feeling light-headed, vertiginous. The world seemed to grow more incomprehensible with each passing day. “Thank you,” he said again, and he nodded his head blankly as if that were all to be said.

Baron Von Steuben looked at the General for a moment longer, and then executed a deep courtly bow.

“General…” he said, and he took his leave.

Ever since the night of his ill-fated guard duty Private Mal Turner had become a pariah among the rest of the men. They figured that since he had somehow survived the bloodbath without a scratch that he must somehow be in league with the devil and be cursed. And after he recovered from his illness he received the cold shoulder from everyone in camp. Even his friend Solomon Bundy kept his distance until finally Mal Turner confronted him.

“Sol!” he called out. “
Sol!
”

No response.

“I know you can
hear
me!” Mal said, as he ran to catch up with his former friend. “Unless you’ve suddenly gone
deaf!
”

At this Bundy turned around.

“I’m not deaf!” he said in a heightened whisper. “But you gotta stay
away
from me, Mal! They say you’re
cursed!
”

“Not you too, Sol? I…”

“I’m sorry Mal, but there’s no way anyone could have survived that. They say it’s the
Devil’s
work.”

“But I can’t even remember what
happened!
” Mal insisted. “I was so sick, I… I don’t even know what I saw.”

“They say there’s a
demon
on the loose,” said Bundy. “Some kind of
monster
.”

“But it’s
me
, Sol! Your friend
Mal
…”

“I’m sorry. I’m glad you’re feeling better, but… I just can’t be
seen
with you, Mal,” he said. “It’s… bad luck… Sorry.” And Solomon Bundy peremptorily turned his back and hurried off.

And Private Malcolm Turner wondered what he had done to deserve such a fate. Last Christmas he was engaged to a lovely young woman, he had good friends and hope for the future. Now he was completely alone and outcast, as this war dragged on and on as if it would never end.

Aaron Burr did not really care much for Nelle Watson, even as her head was beneath the blankets, bobbing up and down noisily over his prick. She delivered milk to the camp, one of the many young girls who worked as milkmaids for the cause. And at first Burr thought she was rather comely, with her shapely figure and modest demeanor. But she was anything but modest in the bedroom. And since this was all that interested Aaron Burr, for a few weeks she suited him just fine. But now that the bloom was off the rose, or rather that her particular flower had been so many times plucked, even pleasure such as this had become tiresome.

Burr was still frustrated over what became known as “The Massacre”. Its cause remained unknown, although the rumors grew wilder and more rampant each day, to the point that there was a palpable unease over the camp. You could see it in every face, right up to General Washington’s. Something had happened that had changed everything, although no one seemed to know what it was. And Colonel Aaron Burr was determined to find out.

He looked back at the lump under the covers and sighed to himself. No longer could he even be
satisfied
, his boredom had reached such depths.

“Enough!” he said, his voice a command, and he watched the girl emerge from the sheets.

“But you… you didn’t…”

“Enough,” he said again, as if it were all he could do to summon his own voice.

“Did you not
like
it?” she asked.

“
Like
it?” he shook his head. “You realize of course that there’s a
war
on…”

“Yes, of course I do!”

“Good. I was wondering if you were just a common whore, or stupid as well…”

“
Aaron?
How can you
say
such a thing?”

“Easy, watch… are
you just a whore, or stupid as well?
” his voice exaggerated, as if he were speaking to livestock.

And he watched as Nelle hurried on her undergarments and blouse, tears streaming down her face.

“Why do you treat me so cruelly, Aaron?”

“I don’t know, Nelle. Because you’re
here
I guess…”

“Well I think you are the rudest, most uncouth, most ungentlemanly
cad
that I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting!”

And Aaron Burr smiled.

“I’m glad,” he said.

“What? You’re
glad?
” Nelle was dumfounded.

“That you can
speak!
” he said. “I expected a
moo
…”

“You… You have to
leave
now!” she said, as she began to weep. “You have to… You have to
go!
”

And Burr leaned back in Nelle’s bed and gave her the most disarming of smiles.

“Oh Nelle, I’m sorry,” he said. “I… I didn’t
mean
any of those things. You
know
that, right? You know I was just
kidding
, right?”

“You were… you were
kidding?
” She wiped the tears and then grabbed a handkerchief to blow her nose.

“Of course I was!”

“But they were so…
horrible!
”

“I know, I… I’m sorry. Forgive me.”

“You’re… You’re really
sorry?
”

“Of course I am! You’re my
girl
, right Nelle?” he looked into her eyes. “
Right?
”

“Okay, but… what you said was so
mean
.”

“I know,” Burr smiled, “but it’s the
war
. You have no
idea
the pressure I’m under.”

“Yes, I… okay. If you
mean
it, that you’re really sorry…”

“I am. I truly am.”

This was his game. He could only get excited anymore by first horribly abusing poor Nelle, and then watching gleefully as she’d eventually forgive him.

“In fact, I’ll even tell you a little secret,” he said, his voice suddenly soft and conciliatory.

“A
secret?
”

“A
military
secret… but you can’t tell a soul, all right? Do you
promise?
”

“Yes! I
promise!
” she said eagerly.

“Do you
swear?
”

“I
swear!
”

“Good. Come closer,” he said. “Come back to bed and I’ll tell you…”

“Okay.”

She plopped down next to him and he realized again how much he was truly repulsed by her.

“A horrible thing happened at the camp last month,” he began. “Eight men were brutally murdered.”

“That’s terrible!”

“Yes, but not by the British…”

“By who?”

“By
whom
…” he said. “The correct usage is ‘by
whom’
…”

“Oh, I’m sorry. By whom then?”

“Actually it’s not by
whom
but by
what
…”

“By
what?
I don’t understand…”

“Have you ever heard of such a thing as a
werewolf?
” he asked.

“Yes! A beast from the Underworld,” she said, with a mixture of excitement and uneasiness in her voice.

“A beast from the Underworld,” he smiled. “Exactly. A horrible blood-thirsty beast that would rip out your throat as soon as look at you!”

And he watched her recoil in fright, and then he looked directly into her eyes.

“Your
eyes
,” he said, “they’re such nice shade of brown!”

“Really?”

“Like my hand after I wipe my
arse!
” he broke out laughing.

“
Aaron
…”

“Come ‘ere, my finely shaped slattern. Do you know what a
slattern
is, my darling?”

“No…”

“Ha! I didn’t think so.
Strumpet? Trollop?
” He saw that she was still uncomprehending. “
Slop-jar? Jizz-bucket?
”

“That’s not very nice, Aaron! You said you weren’t going to be mean anymore!”

“
Mean?
I’m not
mean
, Nelle, I… I
love
you, don’t you see? And love makes us say things that we normally wouldn’t say.”