Generations, part 3
Once again at dawn I snuck out from the shack and wandered around, this time going in the opposite direction towards the railroad yard. Amazingly, I found another camp but it seemed different somehow. I couldn't quite figure it out so I hung around it, listening to the few people who were awake and generally poking my nose into other people's business.
One thing I noticed was that the group of people weren't families except for one couple but rather all men. They slept in makeshift tents and no one seemed overly concerned in protecting their belongings. No one clutched their packs of baggage and stew pots, cans, and kettles were all gathered around one single fire. These people must know one another for some time or traveled together.
"Hello, dog, where did you come from?" a voice asked from near the fire. I padded over to the person with the kind voice and gave him the once-over. He was smoking a stub of a cigar and sitting on a log. He looked relaxed and unworried in spite of his poor attire and unshaven face.
"C'mere, pup. This old hobo won't hurt you none," he said to me, snapping his fingers lightly. I carefully approached him and sniffed. Although he wasn't well washed he at least didn't smell like a drunk. He patted the scruff of my neck and offered me a bite of a cold piece of bread. I took it out of politeness but two-day-old bread that was dry as dirt wasn't the most appealing snack.
"Who you got there, Montana?"
"This here pup wandered over from Hooverville. Can't say I blame her since they don't follow the Code."
I wasn't aware of any 'Code' but they didn't elaborate on it so I remained ignorant.
"She looks healthy enough. Hmm, look et them eyes. I bet she's part wolf."
"Could be but most wolves are wary of strangers. She's gotta be more dog than wolf. Say, I wonder if they'd like to sell her?"
"Why pay for her? She's right here, just put a rope around her neck--"
I took off running before he could finish. There was no way I'd go back that way either. I guess thievery with each other was not allowed but from outsiders was another story.
Once I neared the tarpaper town I slowed down and continued my exploration. I had a feeling that Will would keep me hunting for food and I needed to find new sources continually. I followed a road that led toward a nicer section of town and kept going. I soon came to a fancy estate that was surrounded by a stone wall and a metal bar gate in the front. I sat there, looking the house over when two guard dogs ran up to me and growled.
I growled back and stared at them until they backed away, suddenly finding that they had an important errand somewhere else to attend to. My mind thought over the facts. Guard dogs suggested that something worthwhile was behind these gates making me wonder if it would be worth the risk to break in. I knew that items would be foolish to take. Pawnbrokers would question anything valuable and so would the police. What my pack needed was food and cash--either meant entering the house to look for them. If I was older and capable of changeover I wouldn't hesitate but in my present form I could do little to bypass locked doors and windows. With a sigh I circled around the estate, wondering if perhaps they had a garden.
I actually lucked out to a small degree. The owners had several fruit trees in the garden. With a bit of effort, I leapt over the shorter garden entry gate and looked around until I found a burlap bag in the shed. It took some time and energy but I managed to leap high enough to snag some fruit from low branches and drop them inside the bag. I used my nose until I could grab it with my teeth and began carrying it towards the gate when I heard a delivery truck pull up to it. I quickly hid behind a bush and watched as a white clothed milk delivery man place several bottles of milk on the stone pavement and retrieve the empty bottles that I had missed earlier. He then drove away as I looked around. No servants had noticed his arrival. I hurried to one of the bottles and worked it into the burlap bag. I didn't have time to grab another one because I heard a door open.
I jumped over the gate, climbed over rather since I now weighed more, and landed on the dirt path on the other side. I headed back towards Hooverville just as the sun peeked over the horizon. By the time I reached our humble shack the sun was lighting up the morning sky.
I noticed that Will was awake as I entered with my bag. He stared at me thoughtfully and muttered that his sister was correct, that I wasn't natural. Since his tone wasn't hostile I ignored his remark and dropped the bag at his feet.
He pulled out one of the oranges and began peeling, getting it ready for Caroline when she awakened.
Will looked at me as I watched him then he spoke. "Are you going to sleep or go hunting this morning?" he asked politely. I think our relationship changed at that very moment. He no longer thought of me as a 'pet' but rather one of the family.
I thought about it and made myself comfortable on Will's makeshift pallet. A nap would be good.
* * * * *
By late morning I was rested enough and went to the stream for a drink of water and my morning, er, absolutions. When I returned to the camp I noticed several people looking at me, most likely wondering if I would hunt again today.
I found Will and Caroline sitting near the fishing line. Apparently the stream had a good supply of fish since Will was busy gutting them. I gave him a puppy woof and he tossed me one that he had cleaned. I gnawed it happily, savoring the raw flesh. Once he was finished I ran ahead, sniffing the ground. I found a batch of wild carrots and started digging them up. Will gathered them and placed them inside his tucked-in shirt. At least now he'd have something to go with his fish but I wondered if he'd sell any of them. After all, anyone with a fishing line could catch their own if they wanted.
When we got back to the camp I discovered that there were many offers to purchase his catch of fish. One man offered him an entire nickel for all of them but Will refused, telling the man he needed to feed his own kid first.
The man grumbled and offered him a penny per fish. Will thought it over and handed over half his catch to the man. Will stroked up our small fire then placed hot coals inside a hole he dug next to the fire. They burned down and he tossed on some wet grass, put the fish inside with more grass then buried it. I suppose since he had no fry pan or oil that steaming was the next best thing.
Will cleared his throat. "I need to go to the work house and see if anything is available first thing in the morning. I'll need you to watch over Caroline while I'm gone."
I wagged my tail and sat down next to Caroline to show I would do as he asked. In the meantime, Will took another piece of metal that he had bought yesterday and began fashioning another stew pot. He mentioned that someone had offered him entire two bits for one just like his own. After he was done making it, he took it to one of the other shacks and returned with a quarter in his hand. "I'm walking down to the bakery and getting a loaf of bread. Keep an eye on Caroline, alright?" I woofed and he headed towards town.
He was a long time in returning and he apologized, telling us that the lines were awful. Will had to bribe someone to buy bread because although he had money enough to buy two loaves, he had no ration stamps. But for the quarter, one woman had sold him a loaf from her own supply. Will had paid it even though it was outrageous since bread was a dime a loaf.
"I wish I had enough time and money for some butter," he grumbled, handing Caroline a slice of bread. She nibbled on it while her sire dug out the steamed fish. It was practically falling apart. They shared the last sheet of metal as a plate and they picked at the fish.
We crawled into the shack and settled down for the night. The evening was a nice temperature and made snuggling for warmth comfortable. Towards the middle of the night I heard a slight noise. I kept my body still but my ears reached out to discover the source of the sound. Then a dark form blocked what little moonlight there was. Someone was trying to enter our shack. My hackles rose stiffly, every instinct screaming an alert.
A glint of steal.
I was on my four feet before I could consider my options and lunging at the intruder. It was strangely quiet and the expected fear I thought I should feel wasn't there. I experienced everything almost as though from a distance as my teeth tore into the arm that held the knife. The taste and smell of blood reached my mind only marginally. My body, although not fully grown, managed to pull back the intruder, my feet digging into the hard-packed dirt with determination. Everything was calm and eerily unhurried until the man's screams reached my consciousness then reality snapped me into the here and now with a chilly reality.
I had the thief outside our pitiful home and away from my pack. The other poor souls who shared our poverty came out of their hovels to investigate the thief's cries of terror. Will shouted at me to release him and I backed away, a growl still vibrating deeply in my throat. Things were a little confusing for a bit as people milled around us but eventually the man was taken from our sight. I'm not sure if they treated his wounds or just sent him on his way. All I know was that I never saw him again.
The next morning I received many odd looks. Some fearful and some thoughtful. Will was reluctant to leave in search of work but he couldn't delay leaving any longer, not if he wanted to find a job. Caroline and I remained together the entire day and I refused to leave her side. She found other children to play with but most adults gave us a wide berth. That was fine with me. As long as people knew I would protect her then no one would dare harm her.
Will didn't come home before lunch and I hoped that it was good news, that he had found work that day even if only temporary work. Will was a proud man and hated asking for charity. He had only stood in the soup lines for Caroline's benefit. Alone, he would have rather starved.
Caroline ate the last of fruit I had gotten the day before but I was sure she was still hungry. I also knew without uncertainty that Will would return home without having eaten unless his employer served lunch to the workers. Knowing this, I decided to do a little hunting but I needed Caroline to come with me. I took hold of her sleeve and tugged, urging her to follow me.
Once away from the camps, I pushed at her legs until she was standing near a tree. My earlier training seemed to help because she guessed that I wanted her to remain there and quiet. I told her 'good girl' in my head and trotted towards the field, hoping to find some unsuspecting animal for dinner.
Lady Luck was with me and I came across a nesting grouse in some tall grasses. I pounced on her, quickly breaking its neck. I sniffed the eggs and to my delight, found the scent fresh. She hadn't laid them very long ago. I gave a woof to Caroline who came running and squealed in delight at the sight of the eggs. It had been quite a while since she had last had any to eat. She gathered up the nest while I picked up the bird.
As an experienced farm girl, Caroline quickly dressed the bird and began the heating up the baking pit that we had used for the fish. Caroline held up one of the eggs and asked, "Baked, boiled, or fried?"
Boiled sounded best and I said so, knowing she'd understand my word even if I couldn't make a 'B' sound. She filled the makeshift pot with water and put it over the fire to heat.
I never felt the eyes watching me but perhaps I should have. I underestimated the determination and patience of the wanderers in my ignorance of their culture. It was a lesson I would learn the hard way.
Generations, part 4
I had my nose to the game trail, following the sweet scent of rabbit when I felt something grab me around my neck. Startled and confused, I attempted to back away from the sensation only to find that a rough twine rope caught me. Someone must have set the snare on the game trail and I had walked right into it. At least it hadn't been a trap that yanked the hunted and snapped the neck.
The rope was tied to a sturdy tree branch while the loops must have been held open by small brush on each side of the trail. I had merely walked into it and the noose tightened with little effort. I turned to gnaw on the twine. No sooner got hold of it than something dark and smelly was thrown over me. Hands grabbed me and I felt large hands wrap around my snout, preventing me from biting them.
I struggled to get away but the canvas thrown over me prevented much movement and before I snarl out protest, a filthy strip of cloth was twisted around my snout and tied off. The rope around my neck was tightened and cutting off my breathing to almost nothing. Another rope was put around my neck and the cover fell to the ground. Two men, the hobos from the other day, each held a rope and began pulling me towards their camp.
I couldn't bare my teeth but a growl from deep within me rumbled inside my chest.
A blow from a hard club stopped my warning growl and turned it into a yelp of pain.
"Dog, you need to learn who's your new master now. I'll be damned if you so much as think about disobeying me."
This couldn't be happening to me. I lowered my head and tried to push off the rag that held my mouth closed only to have another blow strike my shoulder. I whimpered from the pain then limped, forcefully being pulled by the two men. I resisted my captors only once more on the way, only to be struck several times by the tramps. I learned my lesson.
I didn't resist them again, meekly walking with them until we reached the hobo camp near the railroad. They tied me to a tree and left me there, hurting and afraid. All I could do is stay there and watch, wondering what they had planned for me. By observing, I learned their names were Montana Jack and Railroad Willie. It seemed many of them had nicknames, never giving their true names even if they were arrested.
Near sunset, they filled a bowl with water and placed it near me. One of the men kept a club ready while the other untied my muzzle. I knew without a doubt that if I so much as twitched that I'd be beaten. I remained still and both of them backed away, allowing me to drink from the bowl. A short time later, a chunk of over-cooked chicken was tossed my way as a meal. It did little to fill me. Maybe they planned on starving me until I was too weak to fight them.
I thought over my options. I was unable to untie myself and I was too far away from the tarpaper shacks to howl for help. Will and Caroline wouldn't have a clue where to find me. The men seemed determined that they would have me as their pet once they broke my spirit. Maybe if I allowed them to think they succeeded that I could find an opportunity to escape. That seemed the best option for now. I would give them just enough fight to think they had to break me then suddenly turn timid. They didn't seem all that smart and they had no clue to my intelligence. Few humans knew anything about the Wolfen and that was to my advantage.
I growled at one of the men the next morning then yelped when the expected blow hit me in my already sore ribs. I quickly backed away and huddled meekly next to the tree and tried to look subdued. Jack came near me next, picking up my bowl to refill it. When he returned with it full of water, he stopped just outside my reach.
"Sit," he commanded. I sat.
"That's a good dog." He bent down and placed the bowl within my reach and backed away.
The rest of the day went on like that, with them ordering me around and hitting me whenever I so much as stiffened near them. They wanted me to know who was boss and didn't hesitate to smack me around. I was fed tidbits only and my stomach protested such meager amounts. I had to obey some command to even get a small bite to eat and by listening, I knew they wouldn't untie me until they left the area. They feared me getting wind of my old family and taking off.
That evening, I heard them talking about heading out of town on the next evening's train. Panic struck me at the thought of any more distance between Caroline, and me but what could I do?
Then I looked up at the night sky and realized that tonight would be a full moon. As frightened of being taken away from Caroline was, the fear of what the back of my mind was suggesting was equally terrifying. Changeover before puberty was the one thing we pups were told often to avoid. The act of transformation was painful enough for adults but for preteens it held great dangers.
Tales of the consequences were rich amongst my people. Madness, deformities, early hormonal growths, heart failure--these were all true dangers that could cause either death or malformed adults. My sire told me of his uncle who had experimented in his youth and ended up a dwarf, unable to join in hunts or permitted to breed. He was an outcast, living on the fringes of our territory until he died.
Was this a risk I dared? Caroline's face and laughter came to mind and I knew that I loved her too much to live without her presence. I had to get back to her. Tonight, I would risk even death to escape and return to her.
* * * * *
The hobo camp was quiet with the last of the stragglers now asleep in their makeshift tents.
The moon was high in the night sky and I stared at it, my heart pounding fast at the thought of changeover. I walked around my prison tree and hoped that I could avoid making any sounds that might wake the others. I sprawled down in the high, cool grass, already damp from dew and closed my eyes.
Although I've never attempted this before, I knew the process. In my mind's eye, I imagined my body making changes, first concentrating on my joints. They had to bend differently as a human so I focused on them first. The pain was terrible and I whimpered as I felt the tendons and joints twist slowly into the proper formation. I was panting hard by the time they stopped and I almost lost the courage to continue.
Only Caroline's image in my head kept me at it. Next I imagined the shape of my limbs and the sensation of my paws stretching into human fingers felt like fire ants eating my skin. My claws thinned and formed into weaker flat fingernails even as my feet changed and bones realigned. That was enough. I could now untie myself and move around more freely. I still possessed my fur and fangs and could still run on all fours if needed. I had stopped the transformation midway in order to retain the benefits of both forms.
It took some effort but my clumsy human fingers were able to untie the rope from my neck. I threw the rope to one side angrily and got to two feet as I sniffed the night air.
My first impulse was just to leave but anger at my captors made me rethink this. If I merely escaped they might attempt to grab me again. Plus I was outraged at their treatment of me. Although I possessed a sunny nature, these men had offended me.
I stepped closer to their tent and peeked inside. Montana Jack was sound asleep. I watched him for some minutes then I reached down and yanked him to his feet. I slapped one human hand over his mouth before he could make a sound. Once he was subdued I began dragging him away from the camp. He and I had unfinished business and I wanted no witnesses.
* * * * *
The moon was still high when my legs buckled under me when I reached the chilly streambed. Even in the dim lighting I could see the red of his blood as it was washed from my fur by the current. The water increased the scent of the blood. I looked at my stubby human hands and sank them into the water, washing them while trying to forget what I had done.
I had wanted to take him away from the others so I could give him a little of what he had given me the last few days. I had figured that in just the moonlight he wouldn't get a good look at me, I'd beat him up a bit then go home. I hadn't counted on his pulling a blade from his boot and slashing at me with it. Instinctively I had avoided the knife then made a slash of my own.
The blood had been horrible, splattering me first in strong gushes then weakly as his life's blood left his veins. I left his body where it fell and ran, only wishing to escape the image of my own violent nature.
As the blood rinsed away from my body, I cried. I had taken a human life, something we were taught never to do if it could be helped. Our kind didn't want to be discovered or hunted down and humans could do either in fear of the unknown. Wolven weren't the mindless killing monsters of the old tales. Silver bullets, a crock. We die just as easily as anyone else does. The full moon fable was just that. It only made the changeover easier and no more. We didn't hunt humans as prey. Our strength laid in the fact that people no longer believed in us or even aware of our existence in the New World. We had come long ago, even before the Europeans.
Now, because of my killing this hobo, I endangered us all. The other wanderers would hunt me down if for no other reason they thought me a mad dog. I had to stay in hiding for a while until most of them moved on since they rarely stayed in one place for long.
As I finished washing in the stream I was suddenly hit with a hunger pain so strong that it knocked me down onto all fours. I cursed, realizing that my premature changeover had triggered something in my body. It was screaming for food. But this half-human form would be useless for hunting. I concentrated once more through the agonizing process and returned to my canine shape but at a cost. The pain was terrible and I felt even hungrier than before. I knew without being told that if I didn't eat soon that I would die.
Once I caught my breath I stood up and sniffed the wind. At once I could detect the scent of deer and I headed southwest in search of it. I found the huge buck in the brush, snoozing in the night but still alert to any danger. One look at him told me I wouldn't have a chance hunting him alone. He was one of the biggest animals I had ever seen but my stomach didn't care.
The buck must have picked up my scent because it stiffened and sniffed the night breeze. Its own nose told it where the danger was and he bolted across the small meadow north of him. I took off after him although I had no clue how I'd take him down alone without being injured myself. He knew the forest well, leaping over obstacles I was unaware of with ease while I stumbled into them.
Then luck smiled down upon me. The huge buck crossed a roadway where one of the paved highways had been built. The early morning delivery truck clipped the buck. The driver came to a sudden stop but the buck kept going so the driver got back inside his truck and drove away. The damage was done. The buck was limping badly and I caught up to him easily. I stalked him carefully, circling around him while he stumbled in the darkness. We both knew he was going to die but he didn't give up easily.
Finally, he was exhausted and stumbled to the ground. I pounced on him quickly and went for his throat. His last struggles went on for some time but his spirit left him and it was over. I gorged on his still warm flesh until I could hold no more. I took a drink from the stream then found a secluded spot. It was time to sleep.
Continued...