Rules for Werewolves (26 page)

It’s stupid, isn’t it? In the details it becomes just a kind of dumb joke to imagine. I know. But I also know that wanting it, or something like it—that’s
not
stupid. Feeling like you want something is never stupid. I’m fifteen and I want to leave my life. So that’s what I did. Bobert says he knows a way we can do it and I trust him.

—How did you get his keys, Robert?

—I found an extra set in a drawer in the kitchen.

—How did you even know they were there?

—If I learned one thing while I was squatting in houses, it’s that normal people are super paranoid about being locked out of their own lives. In every house in America there’s extra sets of keys to everything. And in most houses, the extra set of keys is in a kitchen drawer with the manuals to all the appliances.

—Cool.

—You wanna drive?

—Really?

—Yeah. Why not? You can do it, right?

—Yes.

—I mean, you don’t hafta if you don’t wanna, Tim.

—I’m just scared. What if I crash it and we get caught right off the bat?

—I think we have more to worry about if I don’t let you do anything. If I try to keep us extra safe and we never take any risks or have any fun, then we’re in serious trouble. I mean, I’m not a great driver, anyway. I could have a wreck probably as likely as you.

—All right. Let’s go.

—Wait. Let’s do this like we own it. Let’s do this like we got all the time in the world.

—What do you mean, Robert?

—Put the bags in the trunk. Not the backseat.

—Let’s go.

—Put the bags in the trunk. That way if get pulled over by a cop, we can say we’re out for a joyride and we’re sorry and try to get him to let us go. But if he sees our backpacks, he’s gonna know we’re runaways.

—Really?

—Yeah. When we get with everybody else, you’re not allowed to go out with a backpack unless we’re moving house. Once we get dirty and we look like homeless people, a backpack will get you busted faster than almost anything.

—You’re not a runaway anymore. You’re seventeen.

—They’re looking for us. If not tonight. By tomorrow.

—All right. Trunk’s open. Put the bags in. Let’s go.

—This is awesome.

—You sure we can’t drive there, Robert?

—We’d be caught in a day. They’d put out an Amber Alert and every electronic sign on the highway would be flashing our license plate number and there’s nowhere we could run to.

—How far away is it?

—It’ll probably take us about two weeks. It’s about five hundred miles away.

—Goddamn.

—All right.

—Here we go.

Drive. Drive. Drive. Drive. Drive.

—You can go faster than this.

—The speed limit’s thirty.

—And you’re going, like, twelve.

—I’m nervous.

—There’s no one out. No one can see us.

—It’s a little weird.

—Isn’t it?

—It’s like the whole world is pretty empty at night.

—More than it seems like it should be, right?

—And it’s pretty.

—The moon is out.

—It smells good, too. Roll the windows down. See?

—Why is that?

—I think ’cause it’s cooler at night and it’s quiet. You can notice more at night.

—You’d think more people would be out walking the dog.

—Especially with how hot it is during the day.

—I could get used to this, Bobert.

—Well, get used to calling me “Robert,” too.

—Sorry. Sorry. I’m trying.

—That’s all right. This is how we’re gonna live for the next two weeks. We’ll only move at night and everything will be relaxed like this.

—Which way should I go?

—Take Wicklow Creek. We’ll go on back roads to Glendora Canyon and then give the car to the first homeless person we find in Fuller.

—Haha. This is awesome.

—What do I want with a car, kid?

—You can live in it.

—You
live in it. If I lived in a car I wouldn’t be able to see the stars. Get me a convertible. I’ll live in that shit.

—Let’s just go find somebody else, Robert.

—Wait. Come on, kid. Why can’t this be simple? Give me five bucks.

—We’re trying to give you a car!

—But why? It’s stolen, right?

—We’re rich. Our family is like, superrich.

—This is just a Honda. You ain’t all that “superrich,” kid.

—This is the shittiest car we own.

—How many cars does your family have?

—Including the ones at the lake house?

—Haha. All right. That’s clever. I’m listening.

—We superrich, but we’re trying to get away from all that. We’re running away. We’re going to the concert here in Fuller, and then we’re gonna follow it down south for the next couple of weeks, and we don’t want to be followed by our parents.

—You wanna make it look like I killed you and stole the car so you can have a few extra days.

—Shit, dude. If you just go through the cushions in the backseat you’re gonna find five dollars. Then you can take your five dollars and leave the car where it is and we both think we’ve got what we want.

—You’re a good salesman.

—I’m trying. I got a customer who’s making me work too hard.

—Then you’re gonna be real disappointed when I tell you no.

—Why not?

—You ran over somebody or something. There’s probably a body in the trunk. You just want my fingerprints on the motherfucker. There’s something weird. People don’t just give you cars.

—People don’t just live on the street.

—Fuck off.

—Come on, Robert.

—Wait. This is my last try, and then we’re gonna get back in it and go somewhere else.

—All right, let’s hear it, kid.

—We have a nice family and we have a nice house and we have a lake house, too—but in a year I’m supposed to go to college. To Fuller State. And I don’t want that.

—You’re superrich and you’re going to go to Fuller State?

—I can’t stay in school. I keep running away.

—That’s true, dude. He runs away every other month for as long as he can.

—And this month he’s taking his little brother with him.

—Yep.

—Why would two kids like you choose to leave their house and live out on their own with no support?

—Why do you do it?

—I just had a run of bad luck. I couldn’t get ahead. But now I manage. I get by.

—It’s the same for us. Only our bad luck is in people. I don’t know if yours was bad luck with money or health. I don’t know. Don’t tell me. I’m not asking. What I’m saying is, along with this car and all our houses and all our money and clothes and everything, we also have this asshole that comes with it—I wasn’t gonna say his name. But all right. We got Donald.
And he’s our run of bad luck. So we decided to run away. But first, we thought, why not take some of our luck and give it away?

—Make Donald’s bad luck good luck to somebody else, huh?

—That’s the whole thing. So I’m just gonna drop the key here. And walk off. I don’t even care if you take the car. Give it to someone else. But if anyone asks who gave you the car, my name is Robert DeShaw.

—And I’m Timothy DeShaw.

—But don’t tell anybody we’re headed south following the music festival. Tell them whatever you want. But don’t tell them our plans.

—All right. We have a deal. Drop the keys.

—We have to go back.

—We’re not even three blocks away.

—Fucking dude drove off with our backpacks.

—Oh, no. I forgot.

—Yeah. I fucking forgot, too.

—All right. That’s enough.

—What are we gonna fucking do?

—That’s enough! We’ll figure something out.

—Should we go home?

—No. We’re not going back.

—I don’t want to go back, either. But it just seems like all the fun is gone. I was looking forward to using our packs. And making a tent with the tarp. Shit like that. I packed
War and Peace
. I was going to read it out loud at night like TV. So we’d have something to think about for two weeks. Now we’re not even gonna make it.

—It was my fault. I was just stupid.

—I forgot, too.

—Now we have to find a way to get our supplies day to day. We need to get started now.

—What time is it?

—About three a.m. We should try to be someplace where we can sleep by six, before people wake up and start looking for us.

—All right, what do we need?

—We should get some food and some sort of basic way to stay out of the weather and something to do tomorrow during the day.

—We could try to find the car.

—It’s a car. It’s probably out on the road, twenty miles away from here already.

—Even half a mile is too far for us to find on foot by now. I feel sort of sorry for the guy. You know the cops are gonna find him. They’re gonna arrest him for stealing the car we gave him.

—Tim, I bet you a hundred dollars he doesn’t even have the car anymore. I bet he sold it for a week’s supply of malt liquor and he’s already forty ounces into the night.

—Oh, shit. When the cops find the car, they’re gonna find our backpacks, and then they’re gonna find the postcard, and then they’re gonna find the werewolves.

—Well, that’s one thing I didn’t fuck up.

—Let me see it.

—See? But all the road maps are in the backpacks so that’s another thing we’re gonna want to get our hands on.

—Let’s get started.

—All right. There’s a 7-Eleven right over there.

—How do
you
go to the bathroom when
you
need to?

—There’s a bathroom for 7-Eleven employees. There’s just not one for you.

—Come on. Be cool. Where else am I gonna go?

—Go home. That’s my point. You don’t need to be out at all hours.

—I’m not gonna make it home. Home is like twenty miles away. If I start running now, my pants will be full of shit before I reach the chip aisle.

—It’s not my problem.

—Where else am I gonna go?

—I told you.

—No, I mean, seriously, where else in the neighborhood do you recommend?

—Try the chicken place.

—They let customers use the bathroom?

—No.

—Then what?

—There’s a construction site on Wicklow. Break in and use their little port-a-let.

—How far is Wicklow?

—Where are you from?

—We’re down to see the music festival.

—You and everybody else.

—Please. You can keep my little brother for ransom.

—Please. He’s a nice guy. Please.

—Awwwwrrrgh. All right. Go fast, dude. And don’t do anything bad in there.

—I won’t. I promise. Watch my little brother for me, all right?

Watching. Watching. Watching. Watching. Watching.

—Seriously. Where are you two guys gonna sleep tonight?

—I dunno. He’s in charge.

—Well, be careful. And don’t try to sleep here. Or out back. I get in trouble for that shit. I was nice to you. Don’t push it.

—I’ll tell him.

—You do that.

—Do you have trouble staying awake when you work the night shift?

—No. The fluorescent lights are made to make it bright in a kind of way that makes it impossible for people to fall asleep.

—Yeah, it is a weird kind of light in here.

—And I get as much coffee as I can drink.

—The coffee is the first thing I smelled when I walked in.

—I just made a new pot. It’s 7-Eleven policy that we have to make a new pot every hour. If I’m feeling sleepy I tell myself I have to drink everything that’s left over before the next pot. I do that every hour.

—That sounds like a lot of coffee.

—What bands did y’all see today?

—We just got here. We’re gonna see the bands tomorrow.

—Is that why you’re not inside the gate? You showed up too late?

—I guess. He knows. He’s in charge.

—Well, once you get inside tomorrow you’ll be able to crash at somebody’s campsite at the festival. I’m sure. I heard the Clash was playing.

—Joe Strummer’s dead.

—Mick Jones is singing all the songs. As a tribute.

—Weird tribute for the guy who got kicked out of the band to take over as the lead—

—Come back here! Please! I cut myself! Help!

—I can’t leave the register. What did you do?

—The paper towel dispenser has a jagged edge. I’m bleeding on everything.

—Put pressure on it. Grab a bunch of paper towels.

—That’s how I got cut in the first place.

—Come out to the front and let me see.

—All right. What do you think?

—Oh, Jesus. You’re bleeding on everything.

—I told you.

—Did you cut open your whole arm?

—Just my hand, but it’s bleeding bad; it’s dripping over everything.

—Oh, Jesus. This is what I get for being nice.

—Don’t worry. I’m not gonna sue.

—Who said anything about suing?

—Do you have a first-aid kit?

—It’s back in the office. Hold it up. Stop dripping on everything. Put some napkins on it. Come here.

—Timothy, you come, too.

—No. Neither one of you is supposed to be back here.

—I have to keep an eye on my little brother.

—For all I know you two are gonna jump me!

—We’re not gonna jump you.

—It wouldn’t do you any good. Night managers aren’t given the combination to the safe. They don’t fucking trust us.

—You don’t have to curse at me. I just wanna make sure some pervert doesn’t come in here and snatch my little brother.

—He can take care of himself.

—See, Robert, even the 7-Eleven dude knows I can take care of myself. I’m fifteen!

—Come here. It’s just right here. This door is the office. Come here. Your brother will be able to hear you the whole time. Little brother, make some noise, so big brother knows you’re all right.