Chapter 9: Redirection

Poppy was frozen for a moment. She had.. paws.

What the hell was happening?

In the distance, but still too close for her comfort, Poppy heard a lone howl. She lifted her head, and responded before she realized what she was doing.

That howl, it called to her. Part of her wanted to run to the sound, hoping to find the comfort and peace it promised. All of this was far too strange for her to comprehend. She shook her head, hoping to clear her mind.

The other part of her, still terrified and confused, turned and fled.

What was she doing?

Poppy had no idea what she was, or what was happening, but the desire to flee was greater than any other at the moment.

She knew the wolf who let out the howl would soon come for her.

And just as clearly, she did not want to be caught. That thought was crystal clear in her mind.

Fear had her running mindlessly through the woods, splashing through streams and jumping over small ravines. At first, her running was slow and uncoordinated as she got used to being on four feet instead of two, often stumbling over her own paws and falling to the cold earth. Soon, however, she was able to figure out a rhythm and broke out into a full on sprint. By the time she slowed down, Poppy was panting with fear and exhaustion. The moon was high in the sky and slowly sinking. She had been running for hours, at least.

For the first time since she turned into… whatever she was, Poppy stopped to think. She tentatively sniffed the air around her. There were a myriad of scents that assaulted her nose. But what stood out was the smell of gas and people. Poppy followed that smell until she stood on a ridge, looking over a city.

Not just any city, she realized, her city, her home. She recognized the outline against the night sky.

The strong desire to go home hit her. Without really thinking through the consequences, she raced down the slope and into the outskirts of her town. Poppy ran through the almost deserted streets, pausing to look at landmarks and street signs in order to get her bearings.

A couple of drunk frat boys stumbled out of a seedy bar as she paused by one dark alley. One of them stopped and stared at her as he swayed on his feet.

“Woah. You guys seeing this?” He pointed at Poppy, “That’s a wolf!”

“Nah, bro, that’s just a big dog.” Another one laughed and fell against the wall of the bar, “Here doggy!” He started unsteadily walking toward her. Poppy bared her teeth and found herself growling.

“Bro, don’t try to pet a stray dog.” One of them who looked a little more sober than his friends cautioned, “We should probably call animal control. That dog looks like it might bite.”

“Not a dog,” the first guy was sagging against one of his friends, “That’s a wolf. Can’t you tell? Thing’s huge!”

Poppy had enough, she needed to get around these drunk guys before someone else, who was far more sober saw her. Suddenly, she realized she was not in human form and probably shouldn’t have come rushing into a populated city. She had no idea what she looked like beyond four furry paws, but apparently, according to these guys anyway, she was a dog… or wolf.

A wolf lose in the city would cause some serious issues. And she had no desire to be taken to the city pound. That could only lead to bad things. Like being euthanized as “dangerous”.

That’s when it hit her. She had no idea how, or if she could turn back into a human. Would she be stuck like this forever?

Part of her wished she had stuck around to find the other wolf, the one who had howled for her; she was sure that wolf would know what was going on. Part of her had no desire to be anywhere near other animals for fear she’d never be human again.

But a dark street with drunk humans was not the place for an existential crisis. She had to get home. Poppy shook her head and darted around the boys.

“Hey, come back, puppy!” one of them stumbled after her.

“That was a beautiful wolf.” Another sighed as she ran away.

Poppy kept to the side streets and alleys after that. Even though it was late at night, there were still enough people on the streets that she ran the risk of being seen. And worse, caught. Especially in the harsh glow of the street lamps which would make her presence very, very obvious.

Eventually, she found herself in the alley behind the bakery. For one sick moment, she stared at the door. It was almost certainly locked and she didn’t have her keys. Not that a lack of keys would make a difference; the lock was loose and didn’t always catch. Even if it did, it was easy to jiggle open. Poppy shook her head at her stupidity; she didn’t even have hands to open the door. How was she going to get inside?

Jumping on her hind legs, she rested her front paws on the handle. Use her body weight, she was able to push down hard enough on the handle that it turned.

It took a little jiggling and a lot of trial and error, but she was eventually able to break the lock and nudge the door open. Fortunately for her, Mrs. Crist was far too cheep for an actual security system. She just bought cheep dummy cameras and placed them around, hoping to deter any would be robbers. Poppy had never been so thankful for that woman’s carelessness in her life.

But Mrs. Crist also made sure that all the money from the till was safely tucked in her own home at the end of the day. The only person who would lose out in a robbery would be Poppy. And Mrs. Crist didn’t care about that.

Poppy silently thanked Mrs. Crist for her laziness as she she bolted up the back stairs to her own small apartment on the second floor. Like the door below, the lock didn’t stand up to her weight and persistence.

Poppy was able to wriggle her way into her apartment. Nudging the door shut behind her, she looked around, at a loss for what to do next.

She was home, but what did that matter if she wasn’t a human any more? It’s not like being here would make her any less animal than being out in the woods. Suddenly, being home didn’t offer the safety and security she had hoped. If she wasn’t Poppy the woman any more, what was she? What did she have?

Poppy walked over to her bathroom, suddenly feeling exhausted. She placed her front paws on the vanity and lifted herself up to look at her reflection in the mirror.

The face of a red wolf looked back at her. Her eyes were still the startling blue that she had been born with, her coat a glossy red much like her human hair. But other than that, she was most defiantly not a human.

Objectively, she could agree with the drunk guy. She was a pretty wolf. Aside from the mud and leaves that stuck out from her coat, a testament to her wild run through the woods. She was kind of a mess.

The problem was she didn’t want to be a pretty wolf. She didn’t want to be a wolf at all. She would settle for being a plain human woman. Poppy whimpered. Apparently, wolves can’t cry. Which stunk, because at that moment, she really needed a good cry.

Poppy stared at her reflection for a moment, wondering if this was some kind of crazy dream. Would she wake up with her alarm tomorrow morning, or in the plush bedroom at Malcom’s whatever that was, or was this purgatory and had she really died in the wolf attack at the party?

Poppy had no answers. She let out another little whimper as she considered her reflection. She didn’t want to be a wolf. She wanted to be Poppy. She wanted to finish her last year of college and get a good job. Buy a small house with a picket fence and a garden. She wanted to build the home that she’d never had as a foster kid. Safe, clean, and hers. A place she wouldn’t have to leave after a year or two. A place that couldn’t be taken from her on a whim. And yet here she was, having everything taken from her because she got a job at a fancy party.

But all her dreams seemed so far away now, farther than even when she’d left the group home with no plan and duffel of second hand clothes. It was beyond unfair.

A bone weary tiredness sank into her and she dropped back to the floor and paced around the familiar small space that she had called home for the last five years. Despite the lack of security, this had been her safe space, one that was (mostly) hers. And now even the familiarity lacked warmth for her.

Did any of it matter, anyway? Why was she so focused on this? She couldn’t change where or what she was at that point. With the resignation learned from years of disappointment, she pushed her fears from her mind. If this was a dream, she’d wake up eventually, if this was the afterlife, well, that would suck. But she would find a way to deal with that just like she had learned to deal with all the good and bad that life had thrown her so far. If this was reality… well that would be tomorrow Poppy’s problem.

She trotted over to the air mattress that served as her bed. It was neatly made, just as she always did when she left for the day. For a moment, Poppy observed the reminder of what it had been like when things were normal. Feeling a deep sense of exhaustion and resignation, she climbed into the middle, and used her teeth to make her blankets into a kind of nest. Poppy turned around a few times to trample the middle into a comfortable hole and then laid down in the center of it. With a sigh, Poppy closed her eyes and hoped beyond any hope that when she woke up and this would all be a bad dream, and she’d be a human again.