Hairwolf
Chapter Nine

In Lillian’s office, Stef watches Lillian insert a cassette tape into a recorder. She can’t help but look at her clothes and style of dress. Although Lillian is plainly dressed, wearing jeans with a white blouse, she makes it all look good. It’s how Lillian wears them. Sleeves neatly cuffed, collar up, framing her long neck, hair neatly in place. She is impeccable. She even skipped the make-up but not the lipstick. Who can get away with that? All this proves to disgust Stef.

Stef flattens the wrinkles from her sleeveless, green shirt. She then wipes at the dirt and grass stains on her jeans. The debris falls onto the white sofa cushion which she swipes onto the carpet and then kicks under the chair. Lillian stands watching her.

“That’s nice. Why don’t you kick the mud off of your shoes too while you’re at it? I’ve been thinking about going with a rutted earthen look. You know, a lot like your place. Just let the barn yard animals roam free.”

Lillian takes a seat across from her and picks up the loose grass on the floor. “Nice shirt. What’d you do, sleep in it?”

“You can tell,” Stef asks, a-gasp?

“Girl, you have got to be on better-behalf of yourself. Now what are we doing?”

“I want to go back to the truck first. I need to know what happened there.”

“I think we should do the other. It’s the freshest,” Lillian says as she crosses to dispose of the grass debris. Lillian then spies a trail of grass and mud leading to her couch. She pulls out a silent, portable vacuum and sweeps across the trail.

“No! I gave it a lot of thought. This has to be first.”

Lillian removes Stef’s sneakers and crosses to the sliding glass door and claps them together. She then drops them on the deck and closes the door with - “First, I want to know why and I want the truth. Remember?”

Stef forgot that part of the deal. This isn’t going to be easy.

“Okay,” Stef says, ready to give it a try. “How do I put this? What would you say if. . . No, that’s not going to work. What if I told you that . . . Nope, that’s not going to work either. Alright, how bout this. Once a month, I go through a major change.”

“All women do,” Lillian says, unmoved.

“This isn’t something that can be fixed with a tampon. We’re talking fur, fangs, claws, and ass!”

“You turn into a Werewolf?” Lillian says sarcastically. Stef doesn’t answer. She’s trying to figure out which way Lillian is going to go with this. So far, it’s not looking good.

“Okay. Let’s just say you are a werewolf. What is it you want to know? And why?”

Stef’s suspicions are confirmed. Lillian doesn’t believe her. But then again, she doesn’t have to believe her. She just has to hypnotize her. Stef isn’t here for the therapy. She’s here for answers.

“That’s the why I want to know. Because I’m a werewolf. The what I want to know is who infected me.”

“Who infected you!? You mean, turned you into a werewolf!? Who cares who infected you?”

Lillian asks, kicking off her shoes and pulling up her feet onto the chair. “If you’re a werewolf, don’t you already have bigger problems?”

“The one that infected me has probably infected others. I want to know who they are. Who he is. They’re only werewolves by night. By day I can talk to them. Learn from them.”

“Oh. That makes sense,” Lillian says. “You could start up a chat room. Discuss what to wear while plundering villages.”

Stef isn’t happy with the direction this is taking and shows it.

“No? What would you talk about? Maybe I could help. I did a little reading over the weekend on werewolves.”

Stef knows it’s game-on. Lillian’s patronizing is getting a bit loud. Stef crosses to Lillian’s desk and opens the bottom drawer, removing a jar filled with trail mix. She returns to the couch, with,

“You did a little reading over the weekend. That’s good. I feel so much better now. I want to know

if I’ll be able to have kids.”

“Kids?” Lillian asks surprised. This takes her back. “Wow! I didn’t expect that. Okay.

That’s a good start. Why do you think you wouldn’t be able to have kids?”

“Because I’m a werewolf,” she says, dipping into the jar, shooting nuts and M&M’s into her mouth and chomping down on them arrogantly. This is her retaliation to Lillian’s patronizing. It’s working, but Lillian’s trying to be the better person here.

“I don’t see how that could be a problem,” Lillian says, reaching into the jar. “I mean, why wouldn’t a werewolf be able to have kids? I didn’t read anything about it affecting reproductive

organs. Although it’s obviously had an effect on your manners. I think you’ll be fine.”

“Oh, thank God. I’m so relieved. Twenty-five years of worrying and all I had to do was ask you. Who knew? Now I’ll just have to figure out how to prevent them from eating the neighbors just in case they turn out to be carnivorous.”

Lillian reclines in her chair not happy with Stef’s attitude.

“You did a little reading over the weekend. Are you kidding me?” Stef asks. “Do you have any idea how serious this is? I didn’t expect you to believe me, but do you have to be so goddamn

condescending? Talk about manners.”

“Manners? Are you shitting me? You don’t know how lucky you are I’m not strapping your ass to a goddamn straightjacket.”

“Straightjacket!?”

“Do you know how bat-shit crazy you sound right now? You’re a werewolf. You’re a friggin vegetarian for Christ sakes. What do you, raid gardens? I said I wanted the truth. Not this bullshit. Playing me like I’m some kind of idiot.” Lillian stands and paces across the small office.

“I’m not playing you. You need to calm down!”

“You calm down. Pissin me off, Stefanie. Now you tell me the truth or you can get the hell out of my office.”

“I’m telling the truth. Where am I going this weekend?”

“What? What does that have to do with anything? You’re going to Maine.”

“How often do I go?”

“I don’t know. You’re changing the subject. You’re changing the subject! That’s classic. Classic denial syndrome,” Lillian says.

“What happens while I’m gone, Lillian? In the sky – what happens in the sky?”

“How the hell do I know what happens in the sky?” Lillian says. “It’s dark and then it gets light.”

“Check your calendar.” Lillian snatches the trail mix from Stef and pours out a handful. She then marches to her calendar on the wall, not at all happy about it. She navigates her finger past the many hand-scribbled notes, times and appointments. “Alright, what am I looking for? Monthly events ...”

She notices a consistency. “Stef, gone. Stef, gone.” She flips to the previous month, using her finger as a pointer. Then the next. And the next. She repeats this for every month preceding. She then turns back to Stef. “Big deal.”

“Didn’t you find it curious I was always unavailable on full moon nights?”

“To be honest, I never noticed.”

“Come on, Lillian. Even Mr. Winster noticed.”

“You told him you’re a werewolf?”

“No! I didn’t tell him. But he knows I go on full moon nights. Which is more than I can say for you.”

“...I’m a therapist - not a travel agent.”

“You’re outside, bored and lonely one night, cause your best friend isn’t around every

friggin full moon night. I mean, Jesus, pay a little attention already.”

“Shove it, Stefanie! Got to be a goddam detective just to be your friend. It’s not like I forgot your birthday...”

Actually, she did. And Stef’s look verifies it.

“...You’re gonna bring that up again? I forgot one time.”

“How many times have I forgotten your birthday?” Stef, asks.

Lillian crosses to a closet door and opens it. Attached to the door is a drop-down ironing board. She flips the lever and pulls out the support legs. She then grabs an iron and rests it on the board. Next, she crosses to Stefanie with, “Never let me live that down. Take off the shirt.”

Stefanie without question, removes her shirt as - “You know how many?” Stef says. “None! You know how I know? Cause I remember things I forget. Sometimes.”

Lillian throws her shirt on the ironing board and tests the iron for heat. It’s ready. She starts angrily ironing Stef’s shirt as Stef continues.

“But you don’t even remember forgetting. I don’t know what’s worse. You forgetting my birthday or forgetting you forgot.”

“Okay. Okay. I’m a bad person. Maybe I should have just told you I was busy shoving lightning up Frankenstein’s ass for a date-night.”

“Shows how much you know. Frankenstein was the scientist, not the monster.” Stef realizes this is going nowhere fast and starts searching for her bag, announcing, “If you’re gonna be an ass, be an accurate one.”

“Is that like, if you’re going to spread it, spread it thick...?”

Stef isn’t responding to her. Lillian snatches her bag and holds it up, baiting her. “Looking for this?”

Stef reaches for it, but Lillian keeps it from her, teasing her. Lillian doesn’t want her to go but then again, she can’t go. She’s only wearing a bra. Stef heads straight for the door.

“You know what? Keep the damn bag.”

“I guess I’ll keep your shirt, too.” Lillian holds up her shirt. Then - “sit your ass down! Now!” Lillian announces like a drill Sergeant.

Stef turns in defiance, crossing her arms, waiting on her bag and shirt.

“You made me promise not to tell anyone,” Lillian says continuing to iron. “But you didn’t say anything about me not giving you a hard time. Now stop acting like a child. You have to know there’s no way in hell I’m gonna believe you’re a werewolf. I mean, did you even think that through?”

Stef marches back to the couch and drops into a seated position, demanding she, “apologize!”

“Screw you. Kiss my ass!” Lillian says. “Any other time you’d have thought that was funny and laughed your ass off. Come on. Shoving lightning up Frankenstein’s ass. Where ya gonna hear shit like that?”

Stef’s exhausted and needs to relax. “You’re killing me. Kill-ing-me. Jesus, I almost walked out without my shirt on. Now that would have been funny. And Frankenstein’s ass is funny.”

“Good. I still got it.”

“You know, I’m fine with all of this. I really don’t need you to believe me. That’s totally up to you. And I’m not traumatized or in need of therapy.”

“No. You’re just a fury little thing on a full moon night. We’ll see.” Lillian hands her back her shirt. She then pours two shots of brandy and hands one to Stef, studying the shirt.

“Where’d you get that shirt, anyway? Good Will? Steal it from someone’s locker?”

“It was on sale,” Stef announces proudly, ignoring her insults. “At least that’s what I was told.”

“Who told you that?” Lillian asks very skeptical.

Stef is looking at her. Lillian knows that look. Oops, she reveals, suddenly realizing she’s the one that gave her the shirt.

“You probably pulled it out of your bag of rags because you forgot it was my birthday.”

Lillian sips her brandy, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh my God, you did,” Stef says, surprised but then again, not really.

Lillian starts laughing. “It wasn’t a rag then. It was going to be.”

“That’s comforting,” Stef replies, snidely.

“You’re very easy to shop for,” Lillian blurts out laughing, this time over her own joke.

“Yeah!” Stef remarks ... “It’s Stef’s birthday, let’s see what I can dig out of the trash.”

“It’s your own fault, you know. If you cared more about what you wore, I’d care more about what I gave you.”

“I’d stop now while I was ahead,” Stef warns.

“Oh, good. And I thought you were upset with me. You know, you’re not an easy person to be friends with.”

Stef isn’t saying a word, nor is she reacting to the ongoing attacks. She’s just taking it all in, waiting.

Lillian notices, offering ... “God in Heaven, I’m sorry. You’re very easy to be friends with. It’s being your friend that’s difficult. You set a very high bar for friendship.”

“What high bar? You’re my best friend. Therefore, I think more of you than I do myself.”

“Oh, that’s just hurtful, Stefanie,” she says, spinning the guilt. “Very, very hurtful.”

“Well, I’m sorry.”

“And for the record, I’m more than your best friend. I’m all the family you have. That’s a lot of shit to cover.”

“It is a lot, isn’t it?”

“Right? A lot of shit. I’ve carried your ass from one drama to the next, one apartment to the next and now this.”

There’s a pause between the two as they smile over their behavior. Now Lillian can proceed.

“Lay your ass down and let me take on some more of your shit. I do more role-playing with you than a Hollywood extra.”

Stef bursts out laughing. Lillian takes a fresh cassette tape and unwraps the plastic cover.

“Now that was funny,” Stef says. “I like that one.”

“Thank you. I just made it up. Okay, time to relax,” Lillian says, adding, “I hope Rin

Tin Tin bites you in the ass this time.”

“Thanks. His name is Ominous, by the way. I mean, that’s how I refer to him.”

“The wolf-man? Ominous, ah? I like that. Well, if you find him and he doesn’t like the name, I’d love to have it. I’ll name my next kitty after him.”

“Come on, Lillian. He has a name. I just don’t know what it is. That’s why I’m here. So put me under, keep me under, and you can have the frigin name. Focus! I need you with me on this. It’s going to get scary, but I survive.”

“Oh, thank God,” Lillian replies, more focused on removing the plastic from the cassette tape than

the conversation.

Stef sits up, showing signs of disgust and frustration.

“Now what?” asks Lillian.

“Where are you?”

“I’m here.”

“You’re not here. It’s like you got a cake in the oven for Christ sakes.”

“I’m here. Lie back, relax and shut the hell up. Here we go. I’ll play a little background music to help settle you down.”

HARD ROCK booms from the speakers - “Sorry about that. How’s your other ear?”

Stef queries, “People actually pay for these sessions?”

“Amazing, isn’t it? I’d have walked out by now. Alright, down you go and you are relaxed. From

your toes to your ankles … to your knees and your thighs, leave yourbody behind as you get

hypnotized.”

“Can you just put me under without the goddamn poetry? Jesus Christ, I feel like I’m in a session with Snoop Dog.”

“That wasn’t Snoop Dogs. That was mine. I’m sorry. I thought I’d throw it out there.”

“Well throw it someplace else...”

“...There’s no room. You got the market cornered with this werewolf bullshit.”

Stef rolls off of the couch laughing, taking Lillian with her. The two laugh uncontrollably for several minutes.

Finally, and a little later, soft, meditative music fills the room. A breeze blows the curtain

away from the window as Stef reveals ...

“I smell wet fur...”

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