Rules for Werewolves (19 page)

—We are?!
You’re
the one who wants to call the police.

—I have a job to do!

—You’re just angry. You’re mad that you won’t have this great big house all to yourself anymore.

—Excuse me? That’s it. I’ve had enough.

—Me, too. We tried to have a nice conversation. But now things are gonna change.

—You don’t even know, son.

—I know more than you think. So stop and listen to me. What are you looking for in that drawer? The panic button or the Mace?

—How do you know what’s in this drawer?

—Because I moved it.

—When I come back, I’m coming back with the cops and you better not be here.

—Shut the door. I know you’ve been using the house like it was your own and now you don’t want to share it.

—What do you mean?

—We found a used condom in Linda and Jake’s bedroom.

—You were here last week, too. Weren’t you?

—And we’re staying. I moved the personal panic-button key fob and the Mace one drawer up so you wouldn’t have to bend over in the middle of a crisis. Go on, check the next drawer up.

—All right. I see.

—Now you can call the cops if you want to. Call Linda. But we’re not going anywhere. Whoever you call, we’re gonna tell them our side of the story, too. We have a note from the homeowner and you’ve been having sex in the master bedroom.

—All right.

—All right? We can stay?

—Let me read Rebecca’s note.

Whatever you do, don’t be mad. I love you. Hearts and unicorns. I kinda made a promise that you have to keep. I always feel like I can trust you. This one is a big one. I told these guys you were cool. I said they could stay here for as long as they need to. Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry.

These guys saved my life. I don’t want to talk about it. Remember when I was having that tough time? That
really really really
tough time. You don’t know how bad it got. I kept it to myself. Then it got worse. I was on the internet looking for ways TO KILL MYSELF!!! I didn’t want it to hurt. And I didn’t want it to cause a lot of trouble for Mom and Dad. And I didn’t want it to make a mess for YOU. It turns out there’s about 10 million ways you could do it. I’m not going to—but now I know that car exhaust is the best in the business :). BUT DON’T WORRY. I’m all right now. I mean, I’m writing this, right? That proves I’m alive!

But Jeff knew how much trouble I was in. And Jeff told his brother, even though he had SWORN never to tell! But Jeff’s brother was cool about it and didn’t freak out and just asked me questions about my life and how bad things were and how long it would be until things got better until eventually I was telling myself that it wasn’t all that bad.

So when Jeff said his brother needed something I totally, totally volunteered, even though I know I am wrong—but I’m also right! Malcolm
and his friends are totally trustworthy. And they’re Christians, too. They’re theology doctors. They’re doing a report on how it is here in our communities—something about the number of churches versus the number of homeless kids. That’s why they need a place to stay! What Would Jesus Do?!!

Do not tell Mom and Dad. They will kill me. And I think I have already proved to you that I DON’T WANT TO DIE. So here is the plan I propose: 1) Do not tell Mom and Dad. 2) Let them stay in the house. 3) DESTROY THIS NOTE 4) If anything goes wrong you just deny that you knew anything about it! 5) If you have to discuss this with anyone, discuss it with me. My cell is 274-487-3773. This is a secret cellphone that Mom and Dad don’t even know about. 6) Do not tell Mom and Dad about the cellphone, either! 7) I will owe you one, big time. 8) They promise to clean up and do whatever you say! 9) I love you forever.

If you do tell Mom and Dad I will be back in a kill-myself place. And now I KNOW HOW TO DO IT (and not just by car fumes but other ways, too).

Please please please please please please.

—She put down the letter, then she opened the top drawer of the credenza again, like to double-check and make her decision. Then she closed the drawer again and announced we could stay.

—But there’s rules, baby. Tell ’em all the rules.

—Let’s hear ’em.

—We have to stay on the ground floor. No one is supposed to go up to the second floor and no one is supposed to go down to the basement.

—That’s bullshit.

—How is she gonna know?

—She doesn’t even know how many of us there are.

—She doesn’t know anything.

—Another one of the rules is she’s going to come check on us whenever she wants and if she sees anything
funny
then we’re out of here.

—She’s bluffing.

—She’s not really gonna come check on us.

—I think she will. I think she’ll come back and she’ll bring her husband or the cops. I think she was scared and she wasn’t thinking straight.

—I could smell how scared she was from the hall closet. That’s my hiding place, back up in the coats. And I swear I could smell her perspiration
all the way across the room. The harder she tried to hold all her emotions in, the more it oozed out her sticky little armpits.

—You can
still
smell it. In this area and under the door and down the walkway.

—She better be scared. I was ready to pounce.

—She isn’t scared of you. She doesn’t know about you. She’s scared of what she’s been doing. That condom you found in the front bedroom didn’t just appear there. She’s been having fun in this house the same as us. She has more claim to it, but she also has more to lose by it.

—As soon as she calms down she’s gonna realize we’re not who we say we are. It’s obvious.

—How is it obvious?

—If we can smell her—which I’m not convinced that you could—then she could sure as shit smell you.

—And look at us—we don’t
look
like friends of the Yorks’ older daughter.

—How do you know?

—Look around at the photographs on the wall, baby, on the
credenza
.

—Do any of you guys have any pictures of yourselves? We could slip one into a frame and then point it out as proof.

—That might work if the dad was coming back to check on us, but this is the maid we’re talking about. All she does all day long is dust the pictures. She’ll know if we switched one out.

—Then we have to make ourselves look more like the people already in the pictures.

—All right. We’ll all take showers and wash our hair and wash our clothes. People trust clean people.

—How many showers are there in the house?

—I counted three.

—Let’s get going. We need three volunteers to peel off their clothes and start scrubbing up.

—We can go more than one at a time if we want. We don’t have to do it the way normal people do.

—That a good idea. Everybody strip down. I’ll go first.

—I’m not gonna shower with you.

—It’s not just for the shower. You can shower alone or six at a time for all I care, but we should wash as many of our clothes as we can in one load. We only have a limited amount of time.

—This is awesome.

—Don’t be a prude.

—I hope the maid comes back
now
.

—Look at the lines on us, between the dirty skin and the clean skin.

—We smell worse naked. How is that?

—We’re stirring up all the fumes that were trapped in the cotton.

—I always thought this was what was going on. After I went to bed I thought you all took off all your clothes and had some weird party. I never wanted to go to sleep because I didn’t wanna miss it.

—Now you’re here. Welcome to the weird party.

—All right. Calm down everybody. We’re naked. So what? We’re animals. Take a look around at one another and get used to what we look like.

Look. Giggle. Cough. Look. Relax.

—Where are we with the plan?

—You three, go take showers. You, start washing this pile of clothes.

—And then what? We’re just gonna enjoy this house for as long as we can and them move on?

—I don’t want to go.

—You wanna kill the maid?

—I don’t wanna kill anybody.

—Me, neither.

—Nobody said that if the maid opened the door to the hall closet and found me, I had to kill her.

—Anyway, killing her wouldn’t do anything. I mean, it would make her not alive. But it wouldn’t allow us to stay in this house any longer, or make us any safer.

—The biggest thing we got going for us is a willingness to get in trouble. When she said she was going to call the cops and I said
fine
, she was temporarily stunned. ’Cause then she has to talk to the cops, too, and Linda and Doug have to come home—

—Linda and Jake—

—Linda and Jake have to get dragged into this and the older daughter gets in trouble—

—Or so she thinks.

—And it’s all a big mess.

—So what she’s hoping is that we just go away.

—And eventually we will.

—But until then we’re going to make it seem like we’re playing by her rules.

—I’m going to go back down and keep working on cracking the combination to the safe.

—No, Anquille.

—I can figure it out.

—I know. But first we need to figure out what our routine is.

—What do you mean?

—Well, first off, there’s the maid’s rules. Like with all the other rules in the universe, we need to figure out
how
we’re going to follow them.

—You’re pretty.

—Shut the fuck up and stop looking at me.

—Focus.

—The maid doesn’t want us upstairs, but I already have all my stuff up there.

—Which is great. But maybe we just make a counter-rule that no one turns the lights on upstairs. That way if the maid does a drive-by she doesn’t know we’re up there.

—Why do you get to make all the rules?

—They’re
counter-rules
.

—Well, by my
count
, Malcolm makes all our
rules
.

—Jesus Christ! What the fuck am I saying! I’m saying let’s all have a meeting and make all the rules together, so everybody will have a say in the final outcome and support it and shit—

—Everyone except for Tom and Carl—

—All we ever do now is meetings.

—When Tom and Carl come back, and they will come back, you can give ’em the list of rules you made all by yourself. I’m not gonna say another fucking word.

—Are you bored, Rob?

—I dunno.

—Well, you were sitting in that chair staring out the window when I left to go to the park, and you’re still sitting there, still staring. Did you do
anything
while I was gone? ’Cause if not, you’re probably bored.

—I’m just waiting.

—What are you waiting for, Rob?

—Nothing.

—Why do you keep looking out the window at the front yard?

—I’m not.

—Are you expecting somebody?

—I don’t know anybody.

—You know me.

—I know you. And I know you’re gonna keep asking me questions until my ears fall off.

—Are you looking to see if the mail’s come yet?

—It’s usually here by now.

—You’ve become totally obsessed with the mailman.

—Have not.

—Have so.

—Has it come yet?

—Why do you wanna know?

—Stop bugging me, Tim.

—How am I bugging you?

—All these questions!

—I’m worried about my big brother. Is that so wrong?

—What are you worried about?

—You’re eating weird.

—Oh, Jesus. Now you’re watching what I eat?

—I made cookies with Mom and Donald last night and you didn’t eat any of ’em. I know you don’t like to have anything to do with anything Donald touches, but they were chocolate chip.

—I’m practicing being hungry.

—Because you’re gonna take off again.

—I’m right here. Sitting on the couch. Petting the stupid cat. Right where you can see me whenever you’re in the house.

—Don’t pet the cat so hard, Rob. You know she doesn’t like it.

—So now you’re the big cat-petting expert, huh?

—Ever since you showed me.

—Poor fucking cat. We’re petting the shit out of her and she doesn’t know why.

—I thought you didn’t like cussing that much, Rob.

—I appreciate your pointing it out to me. I didn’t even know I was doing it.

—I’m just trying to show you that I listen to what you say.

—You listen to what I say. You watch what I do. You keep track of what I eat. You’re like my own personal security system. Mom doesn’t have to worry about me running away again as long as you’re on duty.

—I don’t tell Mom anything you do. She’d tell the cops and then they’d take you away and I’d be back to square one.

—Why would the cops take me away? I haven’t done anything.

—I know they’re asking you about some burned-out house.

—You know everything about me, don’t you, Tim?

—Every day, as soon as you hear the mailman come, you walk out to the mailbox, get the mail, and go through it. You’re looking for something in the pile of mail as you walk from the mailbox back to the house. But it hasn’t come yet.

—How do you know it hasn’t come?

—Because you’re still sitting here, waiting.

—I’m expecting a bill.

—For what?

—I’m expecting to pay for my crimes.

—Haha.

—Seriously, Tim, leave me alone.

—Tell me what you’re waiting for.

—Fuck off.

—Don’t cuss.

—Don’t keep me to my word. That’s the worst. I can’t have you listening to everything I say and taking it totally seriously word for word.

—Maybe you should start paying a little more attention to me.

—What do you mean?

—You’re looking right around me, out the window.

—I’m waiting on something, Tim. I told you.