4 Ch 4 The Other Side of the Family (2/2)
I tried to picture it, the unmarked graves of children who couldn't survive the pain of the change. Maybe they were born with boundary walls within them that didn't allow free access to the wolf. I understood better now the deep current of possessiveness I'd always felt from dad. Seeing that many dead baby skeletons is what made him hold me so tightly. It explained some of the pain and compassion I had seen in his eyes moments ago as well when he considered his past. I couldn't imagine handling what was left of so many small bodies.
”Somewhere, at some time, there had been a pack of werewolves living at that monastery. I made a point after that of shifting around any wolves we met, in the hopes of finding another werewolf.In all the time of living there, none had ever made themselves known to us.
”My father and I came to the conclusion that they had either died during the Russian revolution or ran off either to deeper parts of the immense Black Forest where they might have lost their humanity living as wolves, or they might have left to other parts of the world.”
Dad paused, waiting I think for me to process all that. He sighed. When he continued he sounded drained again.
”And that's about it. Father saw my restlessness, my desire to find out anything about how we came to be. He gathered up every possession in the old cottage, every coin, every trinket. He took me to town, sold everything, sold the land that the cottage was on. He even sold some furs from his kills. He gave it all to me.
”He told me to go out into the world, see what I could find, to be careful. Then he added that when my journeys were done, if I had found nothing that gave me peace, then I could return and howl from the old monastery. If he still lived, he would come to me. ”
Silence for awhile. Not only could I not think of absolutely anything to say, I was too scared that anything I said would come out wrong and blow this chance to hear dad talk about his past like this.
”He's probably dead by now,” dad finally mused quietly, ”but he might still be alive. I don't know if the wolf lives as long as the man. My father took to the forest when I left. I doubt he ever came back out of it.”
The sad smile on his face made me consider what dad's life had been like. He left his home and the only family he had. He came to a strange land. The woman he loved was killed in front of his eyes.
Mom had been fascinated to look at the world through wolffish senses. Where dad drilled the practical uses of those wolf senses into me, mom made sure I noticed the beauty of it as well. I think she spent most of her time with wolffish eyes in her human face, her nose often flared to catch various scents.
”The rest you know. I made my way across Europe, covering the ground in wolf form, my sparse belongings bundled up so I could carry them with my teeth.
”I spent my time learning about the world from watching from the outskirts of cities. Peeking through many a window to watch television when I came across one, learning languages as I traveled. I laid outside school windows, listening to what I could.
”I had made my way to Italy when I heard about the free education and opportunities available in the states. Spent the last of what I had getting here. Finding your mother was a godsend.”
Dad paused, his face softening into that look he reserved for Mom as he thought about her.
”Living here on the reservation, away from most people, made things so much easier for me. There's privacy at the reservation you don't get in the world out there. No one wanting identification among other things,” he added wryly.”A different spirituality that was worth investigating as well.”
I was angry for a second that he made it sound like my mother was nothing but a way for him to live somewhere in peace, even though I knew better. My anger was misplaced. I knew the bonds of love that had existed between my parents. Deep breathes to calm down before he really noticed. His gaze sharpened then. He took in what he saw in me. It seemed to confuse him.
”I know you don't want to hear it, seeing as how you're about to go out and explore the world yourself, but it's different out there. You have to remain vigilant. You can't get careless.”
A bit of the condescending drill instructor was coming out of him. I tried not to stiffen up and pull away. He and I had already had this conversation many times. He constantly harped on about being careful and vigilant whenever I went anywhere on or off the reservation.
It was a refrain he had hammered at me since I first shifted, after I had spent days in painful agony during my first shift right after I had turned three.It was his first and ongoing lecture. Many times I had yelled back at him that I had heard it enough. I bit my lower lip to keep from saying anything now.
He noticed of course. He swore slightly to himself under his breath, raking both hands through his hair. He got up and took the towel into the laundry room, coming back to just stand in the doorway, eyes filled with pain.
”Look, I'm sorry. I know you've heard the drill. You're going to be tempted out there in ways you don't even think about around here, both as a wolf and a man. Don't hate me for worrying about you. I couldn't make it out there, it's just to much, too foreign. Too many people, just too much,” he repeated softly, his eyes filled with memories that seemed to haunt him.
I've never seen him like this, distracted and somehow vulnerable. He was a wolf, I realized, struggling to live in a human world without the one human that made the journey worth the effort. And what was I?