Hairwolf
Chapter Forty One

Dinks runs into his shed and drops a needle on a turntable. Soon the entire area is filled with the song, MacArthur’s Park. Stef is trying to get his attention but he wants her to listen. She spies speakers in the trees and an extension cord that leads to an alternator attached to a makeshift water-mill in a nearby stream. It’s enough free energy to supply the phonograph and lighting. Other sources needing power are also connected to the power supply. It’s pretty clever.

Dinks is staring at her, smiling, waiting - “Well? What do you think? It’s your song.”

“I think I’m more impressed with what you’ve done with this place, Dinks. You did this all by yourself?”

“You like it? We get power from an alternator attached to that water wheel.”

“You need to do me a favor,” Stef says.

“You know what song this is, right?”

“I do. You need to leave here. Leave now. Run as fast as you can. Go into town and tell

the Wardens to send Lieutenant Foster here. Tell them Stefanie sent you. Hurry. Promise me, Dinks. Promise me.”

“What about Jesup?”

“Don’t worry about him.”

“What’s your name?”

“Stefanie. I’m Stefanie.”

“Oh. Right. That’s a pretty name. Warden Foster and Stefanie.”

Stef pulls him in for a quick hug, but she’s really taking in his scent to be on the safe side. He’s

mesmerized by her. “Now go. Run,” she says. “And no matter what you hear, you keep running.

Do not come back here. Promise me. Leave the rifle. It won’t do you any good anyway. Go! Run, Dinks. Run!”

He runs out of the clearing and continues down the dirt road, opposite the way they came in. After a second, he runs up the trail, waving, “I got it. I got it.”

At the Wardens Cabin . . .

Foster pulls his vehicle to a stop. He’s looking for Stef’s Tahoe, but it’s not there. He and Ralf exit to Brizzbee and Lillian approaching from the cabin.

“Where’s Stef?” Foster asks.

“She went to the store,” Lillian, says. “She’ll be back soon. Everything okay?”

“So far. This is Lillian, Stef’s best friend and . . .”

“. . . Brizzbee,” Brizzbee says.

“Ralf Meyers.”

“Ralf?” Lillian asks. “Stef’s Ralf? What are you doing here?”

“Tracking furry little beasts,” Ralf says, smiling.

“Aren’t you one?”

“Wow. Full disclosers, ah?” Ralf asks. “Yes. I am. And you?”

“No. Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Soon,” Ralf says, checking the sky.

“Where’d you send her,” Foster asks, “Glen N Dales?”

“Yeah,” Brizzbee says, noting the time. “She should have been back by now.”

“I’m drivin,” Foster says, heading back towards the truck.

Brizzbee opens the rear door for Lillian and Ralf. He gets in the passenger seat.

“There’s only one way there,” Foster says. “Hopefully we’ll run into her on the way back.”

Lillian jumps out of the truck and races towards the cabin. Brizzbee asks, “Where are you going?”

“Get her clothes. She’s wearing that sundress.”

Within seconds, Lillian is flying out of the cabin and back to the truck. They depart in a hurry.

Lillian keeps looking at Ralf, smiling. “So, you’re Ralf. And a werewolf.”

“I am,” he says, smiling. “You know something? That’s the first time I’ve ever said that. Thank you for asking.”

“She’s going to be real happy to see you. You married,” asks, Lillian?

“I am.”

“How’s that working out for ya,” Brizzbee asks.

“This is so cool. Excuse me. I don’t get to have these conversations much. Yes, she knows. That’s how I met her. I was out on a full moon run. She was camping with this bozo of a boyfriend who kept food in the tent. I followed the scent. When I got there a black bear was tearing her sleeping bag to shreds with her in it. The boyfriend ran away. I grabbed the bear and dragged him out with her in his mouth. I slapped him around until he let her go and then chased him out of the area. He left me a nice little scar to remember him by. I kind of like it. Battle wound.” Ralf slides up his shirt sleeve, revealing a long scar.

“You slapped a bear around?” Lillian asks.

“Could have done a lot worse. But I like animals. You can’t blame him. He was just doing his thing. I went back to the tent to check on her and she was sitting there in shock. I stayed close by

the rest of the night. Come morning, she was sitting next to me. She saw my whole transformation back to human. Been a fan ever since.”

Ralf’s smiling, looking at everyone in the cab. Lillian questions what he’s smiling at.

“It’s just weird. I don’t even know you guys.”

“We know you,” Lillian says. “Never a bad word about you. She still has the ankh.”

Ralf eyes tear up slightly as he looks at Lillian. “She’s very fortunate to have you guys in her life. It ain’t easy, this condition.”

“Well, like it or not,” Lillian says, “we’re in your life now too. So, get used to it.”

“Are you a vegetarian too?” Brizzbee asks.

“Oh, man. She’s still a veggie? I thought she’d grow out of that. How does she do it?”

“Lots of roots and bark,” Foster says.

“Moon will be up soon,” Brizzbee says. “Do you need to get out?”

“Soon. I get a little disruptive during the change. The wife tells me to take it outside.”

Foster notices Lillian considering something.

“So – have you and your . . .”

“. . . Lillian,” Foster interrupts. “Can we just save the personal questions for another time?”

“Kill joy,” she says, under her breath.

Ralf smiles at her and mouths, “It’s amazing. She loves it. More than normal nights.”

That’s all Lillian needed to hear. Now she’s staring at Foster. He can’t take the looks so he flips the

mirror away. Ralf and Lillian share a private laugh.

Stef rifles through Dink’s clothes inside his shed. It’s a small space, but cleverly managed. The interior is roughly 8x12x12 with the roof pitching down to about 8 feet. She glances out the

window. No moon yet. She has time. She takes the pillow from his bed and sniffs it. She takes a

moment to look around. An album cover of Richard Harris hangs in a frame on the wall. She crosses to it, holding the pillow close to her nose. She drops the pillow onto the bed as raindrops start to pelt the aluminum roof.

She notices a drop-down-table attached to the wall. Below it, a shelf raised a foot above the floor runs the length of the room. It holds his boots, socks and other assorted folded items. She reaches inside a cardboard box and pulls out a clutch of sweatshirts, sweaters and flannel shirts.

The floor is immaculate. She continues rummaging for something she can wear, but everything appears too small. At least for when she transforms. She notices a dustpan and a long wood handled broom near the door. “How very odd.”

She crosses back to the window, checking the status of the moon. It’s partially in view with the top concealed by a band of dark clouds and the bottom not yet visible. But it’s getting close.

Then, from outside, that grungy, angry voice calls out. “Dinks!” It’s Jesup. “Where are you, you little bastard? I’m gonna hurt ya, boy.”

She leans into the door, trying to look out through a tiny crack. Suddenly it rips open. Jesup’s just as surprised to see her as she is him.

“Well look at this. Lucky me.” He enters the tiny shed, letting the door swing closed.

He grabs Stef and pulls her into his chest. Stef looks fearlessly into his eyes as the tip of a wooden broom handle rises slowly between them, catching that soft spot just under Jesup’s chin. She pushes upward on it, forcing his head back.

He swats the pole away, fed up with her antics and pushes her towards the bed. But she’s just

getting started. She slaps both of his ears with her palms. “Jesus,” he cries out, ears ringing. She then strikes down on the bridge of his nose. That hurt. He gets a hold of her hand and they fall out of the shed. She stumbles to the ground but he won’t let go of her. He’s got her. She fights for her life, trying to break his hold. He gets to his feet and back hands her to the face. She’s down. She’s never been hit like that before and it rocks her brain. It’s a shock to her system. If she wasn’t scared before, she is now and has every reason to be. She feels vulnerable. Weak. She can’t win against this man. But she knows what’s going to happen if she stops fighting him. He’s going to really hurt her and she can’t let that happen.

She has to fight. She has to find the strength. She closes her fingers into her palm, grasping a handful of dirt and whips it into his eyes. She jumps to her feet and slaps and claws at his face and

hands. He grasps blindly for her, unable to see with the sting of dirt in his eyes. She circles him,

looking for a place to strike that will count. But he grabs hold of her, sweeping her legs out from under. She drops to her butt.

He has a handful of her hair and holds her steady. He pulls her first aid kit from under his shirt and throws it to the ground in front of her.

“Fix me or I’ll tear the skin off your hide.” He throws her to the ground and unbuttons his pants, lowering them till the wound is visible.

Stef looks for the moon, pushing herself up from the ground. She sees it, but it’s not full.

The upper three quarters are visible, but hidden behind the edge of the storm clouds. Just one small slither to break the horizon and it’s show time. This can’t happen soon enough for her. Her only concern is this man’s constant handling of her.

He pulls her around to face him. She’s on her knees.

“Get started,” he demands.

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