Rules for Werewolves (30 page)

—I like doing that. Up here under these trees. In about an hour, we’ll walk down this hill and go into that house and take showers and eat hot food and sleep in clean sheets.

—An hour?!

—It took us two weeks to get here. You can wait an hour.

—Yeah. I can. But why?

—All my friends are down there.

—What are you afraid of?

—It’s not fear.

—Then what? You wanna be safe?

—That’s part of it. I wanna see what’s happening down there before I go running into it.

—They’re probably all sleeping.

—It’s five thirty in the evening.

—They’re probably all just waking up. I bet they sleep all day, and then at night, when the moon comes up, they do their chores and then go out and go fishing.

—Night fishing?

—Yeah. Why not.

—Can you fish at night?

—Yeah. Why couldn’t you?

—Are the fish even awake?

—We’ll find out tonight when your friends wake up.

—Take a nap if you want. I’ll wake you up if I see anything.

—What is there to see? There’s an old-timey farmhouse surrounded by fields and way over there is a scarecrow watching over everything.

—Yeah. Me and the scarecrow’ll watch over you. Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up.

—You’re seriously gonna sit here and just watch nothing happen.

—Yeah. This is what I like to do. When I finish something. When I get right to the edge of completing something, I like to take a look at it. In school when I would finish an exam in class, I would just sit with it for a minute before I would turn it in. Or when I’m with a girl. Just to give it a moment.

—Yeah?

—We’re here.

—Yeah.

—It feels good, doesn’t it?

—Yeah.

—I didn’t think we’d make it.

—Seriously?

—Yeah. I thought we’d get taken back. I kept giving myself pep talks about what I was going to do if they tried to take us back.

—What were you going to do?

—I don’t wanna talk about it.

—All right. I am gonna rest my eyes a little bit while you just sit there and look at things. Let me know if you see anything funny.

—I will.

—I hope they have canned peaches.

—After two weeks on the road on the way to a farm where they probably grow fresh food, you wanna eat canned peaches?!

—Yeah.

—Why?

—Because that’s what I want. I want to pull the top off a can and fish the little peach slices out with my dirty fingers, and when I’m done I wanna drink the juice.

—That’s not juice. That’s chemicals.

—It’s robot fruit … The peaches are the fruit … The can is the peel … And the chemicals are the juice …

—Hey!

—What?

—Wake up.

—I was just drifting off. I didn’t even barely close my eyes.

—That scarecrow is wearing our hat.

—Whose hat?

—That hat is a god.

—That’s the hat?

—We have to do whatever that hat says.

—So this is it?

—Yeah. This is definitely it. Let’s go.

—Wait. What happened to waiting? Wait for me.

—May I help you?

—Oh. I’m sorry.

—Are you lost?

—We’re looking for our friends.

—Well, they’re not here now. But you’re welcome to come in and wait for them.

—Are you expecting them back?

—Who?

—Our friends.

—I’m not sure I know who you’re talking about. But I just took a fresh pot of chili off the stove. Why don’t you and your brother come inside and have a bite?

—How did you know he’s my brother?

—You have the same eyes. Identical eyes. You both look like you think I’m going to bite you. But I’m not. I’m not. Come inside and eat and we’ll get this all sorted out.

—This is a nice house.

—Shut the door behind you.

—Do you live here alone?

—Yes. Ever since Justin died. Must be seven years ago.

—I’m sorry to hear that.

—No. No. I’m going to meet him by and by. Now sit down and eat some chili. No. Wait. You’re filthy. Don’t sit there.

—We’ve been traveling.

—You look like you’ve been hitchhiking.

—Walking.

—You look like you’ve been hitchhiking on garbage trucks. Let’s all take a shower, shall we? You go first. And while you do I’ll look to your brother’s hand. The shower is upstairs on the left. Use the gray towel on the back of the door. Don’t you dare use the yellow towel on the towel rack or there’ll be hell to pay. I’ll lay out some of Justin’s old clothes.

—Uh …

—He’s waiting for you to tell him it’s all right.

—It’s all right, Timothy. We’re gonna be all right.

—Good, good. Now go on, Timothy. I want to talk to your brother alone while I clean his hand. Go on.

—Thanks.

—I’ll set Justin’s clothes on the chair outside the door.

—Thanks.

—You’re welcome … He’s very polite.

—Yeah. And so are you. Or, not “polite.” You’re very
kind
.

—It’s the Christian thing to do. There’s a Bible verse directing us to treat everyone we meet as if he or she were Christ himself. Can you imagine?

—Imagine what?

—If Christ knocked on my door and looked like you?

—I guess I can’t.

—Well, I suppose you’re supposed to imagine that you knocked on that door and Christ answered looking like me. What would
that
be like? What would that mean? You would have to treat him very nice and respect all his things.

—We will. We don’t want to impose. But I was wondering. I think my friends may have visited you and I need to find them.

—Come over here into the kitchen where I can get to work on that hand. What did you do? The cut isn’t that big, but it’s just full of pus, isn’t it? I’m going to get some hydrogen peroxide to pour on it, but first I’m going to have to milk it.

—Milk it?

—I’m going to squeeze on it until no more pus comes out. Now just stand there while I look up here for that hydrogen peroxide.

—Let me help you.

—Nonsense. I’ve been making do without Justin for seven years. I can stand on a chair and look in the high cupboard without any help. All right. Here we are.

—What about my friends?

—What friends?

—Did a big group of people about my age, some older, come through here in the last month or so?

—Those were your friends?

—Why, what did they do?

—I let them camp on my lawn overnight. A regular tent city.

—Were they polite?

—They were not.

—Where did they go?

—After they took what they wanted from me, they left in the middle of the night. It taught me a very valuable lesson.

—Do you know where they went?

—I think your friends are ne’er-do-wells. I think they were happy to live hand-to-mouth for as long as they could. No ambition. And no kindness.

—Maybe those weren’t my friends.

—I hope not. But they taught me a very valuable lesson. Now, tell me if this water is too hot.

—No. It’s all right.

—Okay. Does pain bother you very much?

—It bothers everyone, doesn’t it?

—Oh, no. It doesn’t. It doesn’t bother me at all. Once Justin was hanging a portrait for me. And I was holding the nail for him. And something happened. I must’ve moved. Although I swear I didn’t. I think he mis-hit the nail. But however it happened, Justin ended up hammering the nail through the middle of the tip of this finger.

—It sounds like it must’ve hurt quite a bit.

—Justin nearly passed out. But I just looked at it. I lifted it up in front
of my face like this. I can still see it there. A nail driven clean through my finger. There wasn’t a single drop of blood. And I didn’t cry at all. I didn’t make any noise of pain. What I felt was wonder. I thought, “Oh, my God, I have a nail through my finger.” And then I picked up Justin’s hammer from the floor. Justin was panicked. He was not a calm man. He kept asking me if I was all right. I had a nail through this finger. And I set my hand on the dresser there. And I hooked the claw of the hammer around that nail and I levered it to pull that nail out. Boy howdy, was that ever a mistake. That’s when it started bleeding. That’s how my finger got so mangled. You think a nail gets pulled out straight, but if board could talk they’d tell us that it’s not so much the nails that hurt. They go straight in. It’s pulling them out with that lever action that drags the nails sideways. Just think about it. It’s enough to bend most nails and most nails are made of steel. Once I pulled that nail out, then I started bleeding something terrible. But I never screamed. Justin did all the screaming. I never made one noise of pain. I don’t think I feel it like other people. My face stays as calm and serene as a picture. We were hanging that picture there.

—Is that you?

—It is.

—You’re very beautiful.

—It was my wedding day. I was about your age.

—You look very calm about it.

—I was terrified on the inside. I was about to be changed forever.

—But it sounds like Justin was a good man.

—He was what the Lord provided. He was never cruel. Except the day he put a nail through my finger. Although that was an accident. And he was never good in an emergency. Some people put on a countenance in an emergency. Do you know what that means?

—Like you remaining calm about your finger?

—Exactly. It means you put on a face that says you can tolerate a situation. No matter how painful or dirty or filthy it might be. After I pulled that nail from my finger and it really started bleeding, Justin panicked. He started running around talking about going to get the doctor. So I had to walk over to this sink and clean myself up. Just the way I’m going to do you.

—All right.

—Now, I’m going to squeeze and open this up and squeeze until all the pus comes out. And then I’m going to hold it under the tap for a while. Then I’m going to squeeze again and we’re going to keep doing this for a while.

—All right. Thank you very much.

—That’s it. You’ve got your countenance on. Very good.

—I’m ready. I appreciate this.

—But wait. Even after I turn the water off, we’re not done.

—All right.

—Because then I’m going to pour the peroxide on it and that’s when I want you to be the most calm.

—All right. Thank you.

—Thank me when it’s over. If you thank me then, then I’ll say, “You’re welcome.”

—That smells good! Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were on the phone.

—That’s all right. All right, then. Just as soon as you can. Goodbye. And hello to you. You look very nice, young man.

—Thank you. It feels pretty good to be clean.

—I would imagine so. Sit down. I’ll get you something to eat.

—It smells good. I could smell it in the shower. I almost didn’t wash my hair so I could come eat sooner. But the shower felt so good. I hope I didn’t use up all your hot water.

—You can have as much as you want.

—Where’s my brother?

—He went out for a walk.

—Why?

—I think he wanted to get his head together after we cleaned out his wound. The cut was deeper than he thought. And the infection was pretty far gone. I had to milk it a long time. And then I held it open and poured in hydrogen peroxide, and the wound was so deep it held it like a cup. But I shouldn’t say that before we eat.

—Is he all right?

—I think he should go to the hospital.

—He’s not going to.

—You never know what he might do.

—He might miss dinner if he doesn’t come back soon. ’Cause I’m gonna eat it all. It all looks so good.

—Justin’s clothes fit you pretty good.

—Can I wash my own clothes?

—There’s no need for that. You just give them to me, and I’ll do it tonight while you sleep.

—I can do it.

—It’s no trouble.

—There’s more than just the clothes I was wearing. We’ve been on the road for two weeks.

—And your brother has clothes, too, no doubt.

—But we can wash ’em tonight before we go to bed.

—Is there something in the pockets you don’t want me to see?

—No, ma’am.

—What’s the rush?

—I don’t know when we’re leaving and I don’t wanna take your husband’s clothes from you.

—Nonsense. He doesn’t need them anymore. And they fit you reasonably well. But I don’t want to think about you sneaking off in the night. For some reason that scares me. You sneaking around in the night. It’s not a safe thing to do in this house. Once you go to bed, I expect you to stay in bed until I wake you up with eggs and bacon and coffee.

—That sounds too good to be true.

—Well, it isn’t if you’ll just stay in bed until I come and get you in the morning. And I’ll wash your clothes and you can add my husband’s to your pack. I imagine that’s all you have in the world.

—It’s true.

—When you meet someone with less than you, you should give to them until you’re equal. If everyone did that, there’d be a lot less trouble in the world.

—The trouble is there’s fewer ten thousand–dollar bills in the world than there are people. Not everybody can have one.

—Then we probably don’t need them.

—I guess not. I never needed one.

—You need food. And blue jeans and a T-shirt and a bed.

—And I’m getting all that from you.

—And I’m happy to share them with you.

—You have a nice house.

—Thank you.

—I like all the wood, on the walls and the table and the chairs. You didn’t cover everything in paint or wallpaper. Everything seems … authentic.

—It’s old. That’s what makes it authentic. Like me.

—Maybe there’s something around here that my brother and I could do for you?

—What do you have in mind?

—Chores. Is there anything you need done around here? Do you need something painted or your lawn mowed?

—My lawn is one hundred and forty-eight acres. It’s a ten-minute walk to the scarecrow.