Rules for Werewolves (13 page)

—You carried me out?

—Yeah. The lady behind the counter recognized some of us from when we stole the beer, and she wouldn’t shut up, so Malcolm finally hit her until she shut up.

—I remember you were with us when we stole the beer.

—Yeah. I’ve been here for a while. I like it here. I think I’m gonna stay.

—Even after what happened to me?

—After what happened to you everybody woke up and had a house meeting and went out looking for you. Nobody’s looking for me at all. That’s why I want to stay.

—I remember Malcolm pushing my hair back from my face and asking me to put my arm around your shoulder, and you helped me walk home.

—Yeah. That’s right.

—And then Tanya fed me something.

—Slices of apple dipped in some fancy organic peanut butter they have.

—I remember wanting to eat for her. To make her proud or something.

—She likes feeding us. Nothing makes her happier than providing for us.

—And Tanya told you to take over being my reader for the last two days.

—And now you’re back to normal.

—Where’s Angel?

—She’s gone. Malcolm thinks she’s starting a new house on her own. He says she’s watching us. He says she’s biding her time, waiting for an opportunity. He says she’s going to come swooping in with a new group of kids and—

—Where’s Malcolm?

—He’s around. He’s still not eating. He says he’s going to be true to his word. And do something for us with all that hunger. Today’s his third day without food.

—Where’s Bobert?

—He went home.

—Really?

—Malcolm said he had to, for a month, so he’ll remember what he’s missing here.

—What day is it?

—Tuesday.

—What was it like to live on your own?

—I wasn’t on my own. I was with friends.

—You know what I mean—to be out in the world, doing whatever you want to?

—I’m not gonna tell you anything different than I told Mom or the police.

—That was all bullshit. I could hear you from the other room and you were lying so bad.

—I’m not gonna tell you anything different, ’cause if I do, they can use it against us.

—Bullshit.

—You think so? I bet you fifty dollars that in the next twenty-four hours Mom is gonna come ask you what I’ve told you. If she does, that’s proof they’re trying to use you against me.

—You’re on. I’m not gonna tell on you.

—That’s not the bet, Tim. Besides, you don’t have fifty dollars.

—Neither do you.

—That’s another bet you’d lose. See?

—Where the fuck did you get fifty dollars?

—When did you start cussing so much?

—The day you ran away and fucking left me here.

—Well, you can cut it out. I’m back.

—That doesn’t mean you can boss me around.

—You know it’s not like there are no rules outside this house. We had a lot of rules. We were trying to develop a kind of discipline so that we could do important stuff.

—That’s the dumbest thing I ever fucking heard.

—Why don’t you make a list of who
can
boss you around. That way when I want something done I’ll go straight to
that
person and talk to them.

—I’m the only one who’s in charge of me.

—Then you’re the one I want to talk to about not cussing so much when you talk to me. You can cuss when you talk to somebody who’ll be impressed, but don’t waste your time on me. I wanna hear you sound like my little brother. The guy who stays up late at night whispering so no one hears us, who’ll talk with me about anything. We don’t have to try to impress each other, or sound tough, or try to pretend we don’t have any emotions.

—Dad takes off. You take off. I can cuss as much as I want.

—Here. I don’t like the way you’re petting the cat. Give him to me.

—Why?

—You have to be soft with animals. You have to be gentle. An animal only understands physical touch. An animal doesn’t understand talking.

—How come you know so much about animals, Bobert?

—Nobody calls me Bobert anymore. They all call me Rob.

—Who?

—The friends I was staying with.

—Why’d you leave?

—I’m just lying low a while. They’re gonna send for me.

—At school they call me “the Orphan.”

—You got Mom.

—I think that’s their point. I have Mom but she doesn’t count as a mom.

—You got me.

—I didn’t.

—You do now.

—For how long?

—See how he likes being pet? Steady and regular but soft. See?

—How long until they send for you?

—I’m not going to tell you anything different than I told Mom.

—What’s it like to be back home?

—It’s different. It seems like everything goes faster here. And there’s a lot of food in the house. I never realized how much food we have. I always used to think there was nothing to eat. But we have a lot of stuff. If you were starving and you came across this house you could live for a month. But it smells weird here.

—Shit.

—Don’t cuss.

—It’s just—I don’t want our house to smell.

—It doesn’t stink.

—Yeah, but that’s one of the shitty things about being poor. You go over to other people’s houses and they smell great. And then you go over to somebody’s house, like John Longoria’s, and it smells weird, and the first thing you think isn’t “John’s gross.” Instead all you can think is “I hope my house doesn’t smell this weird when people come over.”

—Who comes over?

—Yeah, well, that’s the other shitty thing about being poor.

—Stop cussing. I’m serious. If you don’t know you’re doing it we could make a rule that every time you cuss I hit you. That way you’ll start to develop a consciousness about it.

—What’s the big deal? What’s the big fucking deal?

—I don’t like it. Isn’t that enough? I just don’t like it. I want my little brother to be nice.

—I don’t care.

—Well, that’s the main difference about being back home. Where I stay, the people I stay with, they all care about one another. They’re all nice. In their own way. And everybody’s equal.

—Then why did you leave?

—You know what? I’m going to set up a game for this. I’m going to write down a list of everything I’m eventually gonna tell you: where I was, what I was doing, who I was with, why I’m here now, and when I’m going back. And then every time you ask me a question you already
asked me, I’m going to cross a fact off the list and then you’ll never find it out.

—Whatever. I don’t really give a shit.

—And every time you cuss. That’s one, too. Now stop following me around. Take the cat back and leave me alone for five minutes. Here. Ow.

—What’d you do to your arm?

—I’m not gonna tell you anything different than I told Mom or the police.

—What the fuck is that?

—It’s a gun safe.

—How do you know?

—It fucking says
BROWNING AUTOMATIC
in curly, fake, old-timey writing.

—What’s a Browning?

—It’s a kind of gun. Right, Malcolm?

—I knew there was something in this house we hadn’t found yet. That’s what I did while I wasn’t eating. I went over the whole house inch by inch, to occupy my time. Your brain gets a little weird when you don’t eat. So I thought I would use that feeling to explore small things. To look at all their books. To see how many knives they had. I had no idea I would find guns. But I did. I knew I would find something exactly like this.

—But you don’t know if there are actually guns inside the safe?

—Why else have a safe this tall unless you want to hide rifles? And
why else put it down in the basement, in a utility closet with the hot water heater in the back of the house, out of the way of the kids?

—We won’t know what’s in it until we open it.

—Not tonight. I’m too excited. I’m too tired. I have to eat and then sleep. But tomorrow we’ll search all the drawers and cabinets. We’ll gather together all the important looking papers and we’ll go through them looking for a combination to the safe.

—I thought you had already explored all the small stuff.

—I wasn’t looking for a number. I didn’t notice it because I wasn’t looking for it. I probably saw it. I know I did. I probably picked it up and held it in my hand and looked at it. But I don’t remember where.

—I bet the safe is full of Krugerrands.

—What’s a Kruggerand?

—It’s like gold bullion. It’s money for survivalists!

—Too bad it’s locked.

—It’s a fucking safe, you idiot, of course it’s locked.

—We’ll get in there.

—How?

—Why don’t we call the Eye-5 News Hotline and ask to borrow their helicopter? Then we hook the safe up to the whirlybird and haul it up to the stratosphere. That way the Quick Response News Crew will be in perfect position when we cut the safe loose and it shatters on the pavement. They can look down on us and capture on film the way we scoop up all the guns like kids picking up candy from a piñata.

—What are we going to do with the guns—if that’s even what’s in there?

—Point ’em at people.

—Who?

—Bad people.

—The Peugeot man?

—Among others.

—Angel?

—I don’t know that pointing a gun at Angel would do any good. I think you’d have to pull the trigger at her.

—I don’t wanna shoot anybody. Necessarily.

—Where do you think Angel went?

—Not far.

—What makes you think she’s still around?

—I just know.

—Have you seen her with your own two eyes?

—No, but the little hairs on the back of my neck can sense her. I think she’s watching us.

—From where?

—I think she’s got some place in the neighborhood she can stay.

—Where?

—If she doesn’t have it yet, I bet she’s looking for it. I bet she’s living in some kid’s tree house or she’s shacked up with some dude from some bar. She’s gonna take over somebody’s life so she can be nearby and watch us.

—What does she want?

—I bet she wants to start her own family, or to take over this one.

—All right, everybody. Let’s let Malcolm get some rest. He’s done enough for tonight. I’m gonna feed him and put him to bed. Everybody go find a bed or a best friend who’s already got one. Let’s pack it in for the night. Come on, baby. You’ll thank me tomorrow. When we’re searching all over the house tomorrow, you’ll come across some nice stationery and a fountain pen and you can write me a thank-you note.

—Good night, Tanya.

—Good night.

—I call the older sister’s room.

—You have to call it by name.

—I call Rebecca’s room.

—How do you know her name?

—I read her journals.

—That’s awesome. Were they good?

—There’s good parts.

—Good night.

—Good night everybody.

—

—

—I’m scared, baby.

—I got it all under control. I’ll take care of you.

—That’s sweet. But it’s not true.

—What are you afraid of Tanya?

—Angel wants to destroy me.

—Why would she want that?

—Well, there’s plenty of songs about love at first sight, lifelong romance, and soul mates meant for each other. But the opposite is also true: A lot of times two people meet and it’s just perfect hate.

—It’s probably the same chemicals that makes ’em both happen.

—You ever read
Othello
?

—In college, I guess.

—I bet they have a copy here.

—They have two. Rebecca has a copy and there’s a collected Shakespeare in the dad’s office. I noticed all sorts of little shit like that when I was starving to death.

—I’ll get you some food. But what do you remember about the play?

—It’s about a black guy and a white girl.

—Right. It seems like that’s the stuff that doesn’t fit right. Black vs. White. Man against Woman. But get one of those copies and take a look. The real trouble is between two people who are exactly the same. Two white guys. The bad guy, Iago, is only going after Othello to get back at this other white guy, Cassio. Take a look—it’s weird. I think Angel and I are like that. We’re exactly the same.

—You telling me you wanna go out and start your own family? Or take over this one?

—Take a look at the story again. Seriously.

—You think Angel wants to kill you so she can get ahold of me?

—Angel doesn’t give a fuck about you, Malcolm. She wants everything I have. Not just you, but my mind and the way I go about living in the world.

—Why?

—I hath a daily beauty in my life that makes her ugly.

—What does that mean?

—It’s from the play. Read it.

—Just tell me what it means. Jesus. I don’t want to go reading books to understand what you’re trying to say.

—It means when Angel and I look at each other we hate ourselves.

—So you think she’s going to try to tear us apart.

—I do. I think she’s gonna try to destroy our pack.

—Why doesn’t she just call the cops?

—She might. But not now. If she calls the cops we all just get split up and run away. But if she does it right—if she can manage a way for the cops to come and get me and leave all of you together, especially if she can save you from the cops while I get taken away … I think that’s what she’s gonna do.

—Well, I’m not gonna get together with Angel.

—I don’t care if you do.

—Why the fuck would you say that?

—It’s not about you. It’s about me and Angel. You should read the fucking book.

—All right. I will.

—But not now, baby.

—You’re right.

—You better believe it. What make you think I don’t already control this house? They support you because I do. So you better watch out.