My sleep that night was riddled with unsettling dreams. I’d wake up from one and, when I finally managed to get back to sleep, dive into another. The dreams were both different and the same. They were different in the respect that I was in various locations. The sameness was in the fact that, no matter where I was or what I was doing, I ended up in the company of a very large wolf.
In the first dream, I was riding Roger through the woods at dusk when a large black wolf with dark beady eyes came at me from out of nowhere. Roger reared up and I fell; hitting my head on a rock. I remember the pounding of my heart as if it had really happened when the wolf began to lick the blood from my wounded head. Something tall came up and the wolf craned its neck to look up at it. I have no idea who or what it was because that’s when I woke up.
In the next dream that I recall, I was walking through my old neighborhood in the Chicago suburbs with my two best friends, Cricket and Debbie. It was night and the moon was full. We stopped to search for the man in the moon when a wolf lept at us from seemingly nowhere and knocked Cricket down. Debbie screamed her lungs out and ran away as fast as her long, slender legs would carry her, but not me. I stood, frozen, while I watched in horror as the wolf disemboweled my friend. It wasn’t until the wolf turned toward me with snarling teeth that dripped of blood, guts, and saliva that I saw its beady black eyes that I realized that it was the same wolf as in my first dream.
I tried to scream for help as it slowly approached me. It got so close that I could smell the animal body odor it emitted, but, as hard as I tried, my vocal cords were mute. Then, a white, blue eyed wolf appeared, and the wolves fought each other. I managed to get my feet to move and I ran for my life. I woke up sweaty and sore, as if I really had been running for my life.
I trembled from head to toe as I got up and went into the bathroom for a drink of water. I looked out at the brilliant moon, remembered Cricket’s disemboweled corpse in the moonlight of my dream, and shuddered. Thinking I needed something better than water to settle me down, I went to the kitchen and warmed a cup of milk in the microwave. Hoping that the tryptophan that the warm milk offered would help me sleep like a baby, I headed back to bed.
I fell asleep quickly, only to have yet another dream about wolves. This time I was on the patio of my new home. I was stretched out on a lounge chair, enjoying my favorite snack of honey and goat cheese on a club cracker while looking at the moon and remembering sitting in the back yard with my father in my younger years with a telescope, when the white, blue eyed wolf sauntered up next to me. Its coat looked smooth, but it felt surprisingly coarse.
This time, I wasn’t afraid. In fact, I reached out and pet its head as I offered it a cracker. It carefully took my offering from my hand before resting its head on my lap. It felt relaxing and right until I could feel the presence of something behind me. Whatever it was, it had to be tall because the wolf had to lift its head up high to look at it. When the wolf snarled viciously at it, fear consumed me, and I woke up.
I found myself sweating and shaking after each dream. I’d tell myself that I was dreaming about the wolf because of my conversation with Lila and Bruce in hopes of convincing my mind to stop the nightmares. But they didn’t stop until I climbed out of bed the following morning.
“You look exhausted,” my mother said as I made my way to the coffee pot. She watched me fill a mug with a curious look. “What’s wrong?”
“Why should anything be wrong?” I asked as I put the cup of steaming black, aromatic liquid to my lips and took a careful sip.
“You only drink coffee when something’s wrong. Otherwise, you drink hot chocolate. That’s why.”
“I’m developing a taste for coffee,” I said. It was true, but she was right. I preferred hot chocolate in the mornings. I rested my elbows on the counter and, holding the hot mug with both hands, rested it against my forehead. “I had bad dreams all night. I couldn’t shake them.”
“I’m sorry, honey,” my mother said as she came over to me and rubbed my back. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“It’s nothing. I just kept dreaming that a wolf was chasing me,” I said as I turned and leaned my back against the counter. After sipping more coffee, I added, “It’s probably from Lila and Bruce telling me that the woods are full of wolves and bears.”
“They were only trying to keep you safe.”
“By telling me I could be eaten while riding my horse?”
She cocked her head and chuckled at my dramatic attitude. “Did they say you’d be eaten? I didn’t hear that. I simply heard them tell you to be home by dusk or risk running into a wolf like Little Red Riding Hood.”
“Very funny, mom,” I grumbled as I took a seat at the kitchen table.
“Do you want some pancakes?” she asked, good naturedly, as she pulled out a griddle pan that was being stored in the oven and set it on the stove top.
“I do,” Josh said as he scurried into the kitchen. He looked at me and said, “You look like shit.”
“Joshua!” my mother barked. “Language.”
“Sorry,” he said with a smirk before turning to me and saying, “You look like hell.”
I heard my mother’s soft, throaty moan as she raised her eyes to the ceiling.
“Can we have bacon too?” he asked as he helped himself to the orange juice in the refrigerator.
“Get a glass, you animal,” I mumbled as he opened the carton and raised it to his lips.
“Glass, son,” my mother said firmly just seconds before the carton would have touched his lips.
He glowered at me as he reached into a nearby cupboard and pulled out a glass. “Happy?”
I simply smirked and sipped my coffee.
The smell of bacon filled the room and soon my stomach was awake and demanding sustenance. Feeling a little more like myself, I got up and pulled some plates out of the cupboard and set the table.
We were cleaning up after a filling breakfast of bacon, eggs, and blueberry pancakes when Lila Masterson knocked on the sliding door leading to the patio we’d congregated on only the night before.
Mom laughed as she beckoned her to come in while teasing her about becoming a back-door friend. She explained that she’d walked over the fields from her little cottage to ours because it was shorter and that the back patio was the first thing she came to.
She wanted to invite us to a small picnic she was having that afternoon. Claiming that it was a last-minute decision to have it, she apologized for the lateness of the invite.
I didn’t want to join them at this picnic, but I saw no way out of it. Feeling the strain of improper sleep and a constraint on my time with the horses, I planned out my day in my head while I listened to Lila and my mother talk about the picnic menu and the guest list.
I decided that the exercise the horses would receive that day would be on the lunge line. The up side of this was that it would take less time than riding, so I’d be able to work with all three horses.
My thoughts left the horses and I paid closer attention to the conversation in the room when Lila informed me that there would be a few picnickers attending who were my age. I’d yet to meet anyone younger than thirty, so this was good news.
“I don’t know them well,” Lila explained. “Their parents golf with Bruce and his father.” She turned to Josh. “If I’m not mistaken, one of them goes to the school you’ll be attending in the fall.”
“How nice. You won’t feel like such a stranger on your first day of school, Josh,” my mother said with a warm smile before turning to me. “I’ll bet you’d welcome a little company your own age, right?”
She was right - even if she was embarrassing me in front of the neighbor by exposing my loneliness- so I forced back the color that was rising in my cheeks, gave a small smile, and nodded my agreement before I excused myself to go tend to the horses.
I could hear Lila singing my praises about how dedicated and competent I was when it came to tending to my responsibilities as I exited the house to make my way across the patio toward the stable. I smiled with satisfaction at how proud my mother sounded while agreeing with her.
I’d never attended a last-minute picnic that was so put together. There were about thirty adults in attendance, ranging from early thirties to late sixties. I tried not to look obvious as I searched the crowd for someone my age. I also did my best to hide my disappointment when I found no one.“I’m so sorry, Missy,” Lila said as she sauntered up next to me as I filled my plate with delicious smelling baked beans, barbequed ribs, potato salad, and ambrosia. “I was told that Michael Jefferson’s two boys would be here. Their cousin is visiting, and they were supposed to bring her along.”I shrugged my shoulders while trying to act nonchalant. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.” Since I was never happy when the attention was on me, I quickly changed the subject. “This food is great. How’d you manage to pull it off on such short notice?”“Truth?”
Surprisingly, I slept like a baby that night; for which I was grateful. I attributed it to the busy day and strenuous walk I took; added to an already exhausted body. Whatever the reason, I was glad.I spent the day caring for the horses and daydreaming about what it would be like to meet Kenton when I was looking my best. Upon my mother’s request, I rode in the ring instead of on the trails. I didn’t mind. Admittedly, I was a bit shaken by being so close to the tree line when the wolves howled.Think me a wimp if you want, but they don’t have wolves in Chicago and that howl was just plain scary.Mom was a little out of sorts at dinner. It wasn’t until we’d cleaned up and Josh went to his room to play on his Xbox that she asked me to sit with her on the patio. She had something disturbing to share with me that she didn’t want Josh to hear.Even if I was old enough to drink
I couldn’t sleep. My mother’s voice, insisting that we were surrounded by werewolves instead of wolves, taunted me every time I closed my eyes and started to doze. I mean… wolves I could understand. We’d moved to the country on property that bordered a nature reserve, but werewolves? Frustrated, I climbed out of bed, slipped into a lightweight robe and slippers and headed downstairs.With no close neighbors to worry about, mom rarely closed the blinds on the back door leading to the patio. The brilliance of the moon illuminated the kitchen to the point I didn’t find a need to turn on the light. Helping myself to a tall glass of milk and a few homemade peanut butter cookies, I went out onto the patio to enjoy my snack and the beautiful night sky.I must have been so lost in thought that I didn’t hear Kenton approaching. It wasn’t until he said, “Hello” that I saw
My mother’s bellowing from the bottom of the stairs for me to wake up came all too soon. As much as I would have liked to lay in bed for a while longer and fantasize that Kenton was in bed snuggling me, I had responsibilities to tend to. The horses would be expecting their morning feed and fresh water. I could be a few minutes late, but not a few hours.I dragged myself out of bed and splashed cold water on my face to help rouse my body. The minty toothpaste that I used to brush the night scum from my teeth did wonders to help me feel fresh and functional. I quickly ran a brush through my wavy locks and pulled them into a smooth pony tail. Although, I doubted that it would stay smooth for long, at least it would start out that way.“Did I hear you up in the middle of the night?” mom asked as I entered the kitchen.“I couldn’t sleep, so I had a snack,” I said, quietly.“Outside?”
The days that followed were blissfully uneventful while the nights were filled with amorous anticipation as Kenton continued to pay me his visits.Days turned into weeks as we got to know each other better. Although I was frustrated by my attraction to him that was going nowhere, I was also happy and thankful for the friendship we’d developed.My eighteenth birthday was in a few days and I really wanted to introduce Kenton to my mom and brother so that he could join in on my birthday celebration.I was usually outside on the patio for fifteen minutes or so before he’d appear. I spent that time dreaming about seeing his face over the top of the candle flames as I blew them out.“Are you sleeping?” he whispered from the shadows.I kept my eyes closed. “Just thinking.”“It must be something pretty good that you’re thinking about with a smile like that on that pretty face,” he sai
The day of the picnic came around and I was both sad and frustrated. Not only had my mother invited a few dozen people that I barely knew or didn’t know at all to it, but I hadn’t seen Kenton since the night I’d asked him to come and mom scared him away.I did my best to be pleasant and amiable to the guests as they arrived, but, let’s face it, they were my mother’s guests, not mine. To add to my angst, Michael Jefferson arrived with his two sons and his niece in tow. I was definitely not in the mood to meet and entertain people of my own age.My mother’s voice grated every nerve I possessed as she walked up to me with Michael and his offspring following like baby ducks. “Missy, honey, this is Michael Jefferson. His farm is on the other side of the reserve. I’m sure you’ve seen it while riding.” Michael vigorously shook my hand while mom continued to introduce me to the newcomers.
Cindy came around the following morning right after breakfast to take me up on my offer to go riding. She was accompanied by Wally. Since he was also an accomplished rider, I didn’t mind giving him a horse to ride. I was just glad that I had three. I don’t know how we would have managed if we were short a horse.We said very little while we rode single file along one of my favorite trails in the reserve. Since I wasn’t much of a gabber, I was fine with the silence. It wasn’t until we reached the part of the trail that allowed us to see their farm that Wally spoke.“That’s our place,” he called out as he pointed in the direction of the farmhouse.“I thought so,” I said as I stopped Roger and waited for them to position their horses next to me.“It doesn’t look lived in from here.”“You’re right,” Cindy said as she shaded her
Even though it had been almost a week since Kenton had paid me a midnight visit, I managed to move past my disappointment and enjoy my quiet time under the stars on the patio for a while each night before heading to bed.The full moon was approaching again. I’d spoken to my mother about my newfound habit and assured her that I was perfectly safe from any of her – what I considered imaginary- werewolves. It concerned me that someone as intelligent as she was could even contemplate the existence of those mythical creatures, but I let it go since she’d made no more fuss about them.I was stretched out on a lounger with my eyes closed, remembering my younger years of star gazing with my father, when a soft, masculine voice said, “You look deep in thought.” I recognized it immediately as Kenton’s voice.Scowling, I opened one eye. “So, you decided to grace me with your presence?”True to h