Driftwood
I had never given any thought to how this day was going to go, but out of all the ways I could have pictured, this was surely not one of them.
The paper in my hand – the photo – felt heavy, as if it had suddenly began weighing a hundred pounds. My breathing was shallower than before, and my eyes were frantically eyeing every detail over, just to make sure that what I was seeing was correct, and not some hallucination that my mind was showing me.
"What is this?" my voice somehow sounded disconnected.
In my hands was the photo that I had taken yesterday. The picture evidence of the existence of that bear-like wolf pack. The picture that I was hoping to show police, or animal control, or who ever the hell could take them out. Why was I looking at this? How could this possibly now be in my hands when I knew I had dropped it, and why did it just slip out of the mysterious journal that belonged to my best friend.
The gentle sound of the wind chimes out side the back door felt as if it were moving further and further away as my rapid beating heart seemed to get louder and louder; the pounding overriding my ears to the point where it felt as if it were a bomb ticking, counting down until the grand finale of exploding.
I kept repeatedly asking myself how it was even possible; my mind feeling though it had entered a stupor, and within seconds I would pass out from pure confusion alone.
My theory on the wolves being connected to the tribe's legends and Sam Uley all seemed to just seem even crazier than they had already sounded. It was so crazy, and not at all possible.
But what if it was.
My hands were now gripping the sides of the counter for dear life; my uneven breath becoming worse. I knew that hyperventilation was happening, so I put my head into my violently shaking arms as I tried my best to steady my breathing.
There had to be some explanation – something to make this sound even slightly possible.
My eyes darted up to the journal, and my hand fiercely shot out for it. With the book in hand again, I felt myself crumble down to the floor, my back to the cupboard. I flicked the pages, again and again, searching for anything that could make any sense of this.
I stopped on the last entry of the journal. It was from today.
Yesterday was the most frightening day of my life. I don't even want to write about it. I don't want to remember it.
Seth had told me about everything he's been doing. He told me about 'The black wolf' as he calls him. He thought that it had killed his father. What could I even say to that? He didn't believe what I had told him a month ago, but it wasn't like I could change what I had said, and I knew that if I didn't convince him that my lie was true, I knew he would probably just end up hurting himself. I even had to ask him to not go chasing after the pack.
I knew that if it was Sam's decision, he probably would have told me to let Seth think that he killed Harry. It was the less complicated route, so Seth could just think Sam was just a regular wolf, rather than something more.
My breaths had calmed slightly, but it was still uneven as the steady stream of tears poured down my face as I felt this all becoming realer than I'd wanted it to be. I got the gist of it all quickly.
Sam really was the wolf. That was a plain fact, which honestly, didn't leave me feeling all that surprised. Strange, though I guess I had always felt there was something supernatural going on with it. What I didn't understand though was why he was… doing what he does, and why he killed my...
From what I had read, the tribe's legends told nothing about a situation such as this.
But honestly, it seemed that it wasn't even the part that bothered me the most.
Paul was lying to me. He was lying about what happened to my father, to keep Sam safe. There was no bear attack. The big question was simply why. Why would he lie about this? Did he think of Sam as his closest friend now, so that was why he was turning a blind eye to him and all the things he was doing? Was killing my father not enough to leave him questioning his morals?
I was now standing. My eyes were on the journal in front of me, as if it were some poisonous object. I was no longer crying, and my face was completely blank. I felt no more emotion – just coldness.
Emptiness.
The sound of laughing met my ears, and I heard the front door of the house open, but I didn't turn around to look, as I already knew who had arrived.
"Hey dad, you home?" The voice called out, all the while mindless chatter sounded from behind him. "Emily's up in Neah Bay visiting family, so is it okay if the guys eat…" His voice had trailed off.
"Seth?" he asked simply. The other voices seemed to silence themselves as they noticed my presence, and there was a moment of stillness.
The calm before the storm.
I didn't know what to say – what could I after learning about everything that he's been keeping a secret from me. My gaze stayed on both the journal and picture which were hidden in front of me.
"How are those errands going, Paul?" I asked, my voice still sounding so detached. I turned my body, angling it so I could get a better look at him and the others. The first thing that caught my attention was Leah. She was standing off to the side of their little group, and my eyes narrowed just a fraction.
"Wh… What are you doing here?" Paul asked, clearly noticing how strange I was acting.
"Your father asked me to make you this." I opened the oven door, grabbing the warm plate and simply tossing it over to him. He caught it of course – that was something I'd expect after years of playing football, but it didn't stop the immediate shock from my hasty actions. "And, while I was making that, I got to take a look at this." I now picked up the picture, balling it up and tossing it over to him just as carelessly as I did with the plate, which he then caught with his other hand.
It took him a second to look at the picture, before going wide eyed and rapidly looking back up to me. I only turned away, looking back down at the journal.
"Seth… it's not what it looks like." He sounded scared, which only made me laugh humorlessly.
"Really…" I said with mock disbelief. "Because what it looks like is that you've been lying to me for weeks now. And given the bear attacks that've been happening all over town…" My hand picked up the journal, which I then began tracing over the rough patterns on it with my fingers. "I bet that's not the only thing you've been keeping from me." I glanced back at him, only to now see the faces of the others, who all seemed just as shocked as Paul. Sam, Jared, Embry, Quil, Jacob, and even Leah.
It had seemed that Sam's cult has gotten bigger.
Paul awkwardly laughed, taking quick glances at the people around him. "Well then I guess it's kind of what it looks like… But I can explain." He sounded desperate. "Look, it's going to sound crazy."
"Try me." I challenged, tossing the book back onto the counter before turning my full attention to the boy.
He looked to Sam. They seemed to have some mental conversation before Sam simply nodded.
"Okay well…" He turned back to me. "D-did you read the last thing I wrote in that?" He indicated to the journal.
I nodded.
"Okay okay." He breathed. "Well… yes. It's true."
I felt myself let out a shaky breath. I was about to speak, but he beat me to it.
"But that's not all." His voice went faint, and I gave him a questioning look. "It's not just Sam that can… do what he does… We all can." His arms gestured to the people around him.
My stare remained on him. It took me seconds to process the words that he spoke, before my eyes switched over to Sam.
They… all can?
My eyes then shifted to Leah. I tried saying anything, but I couldn't, so I settled for shaking my head while mentally asking her if it were all true.
"I'm sorry." Was all she said.
My eyes went wide as her words hit me like a tidal wave, and I immediately found myself stiffly stepping backwards.
Paul started to walk towards me in a slow and cautious manner. "You see, we can all change into these wolves and-"
"I need you to just-" Trying to put even more space between me and the boy. My hip hit the counter, and all I could do was to lean on it with one hand as my brain tried to process everything that was happening.
He began to start rambling, the nervousness and intensity of the whole situation written clearly on his face. "I-I know it sounds scary, and you have every right to be frightened right now, but this is who we are. We're… werewolves. We were born with this gene that gives this to us, and we phase into them when we need to protect-"
"Okay, just stop." I said, exasperated. I raised my hand, as to act as a warning and a guard as I asked him the only question that I needed to know. The only question that would confirm which of the two things that I would see him as.
"Was there… or was there not… a bear?" I felt my face scrunch up as I tried to hold back the emotion that threated to escape.
"I-" he started, but it was all he could say, as he seemed to be at a loss for words.
That was all I needed to hear. I no longer wanted to see him as my friend. I wanted to only see him at the boy who played a part in the homicide of my father.
My hand was gripping onto the necklace that hung around my neck; holding so tightly onto the bear charm as I contemplated ripping it off and flicking it away. But I couldn't do it. I loved the person who gave it to me too much to do such a thing.
"Okay." I felt myself let out a laugh before I started moving, walking past Paul and straight to the door.
"Seth, wait!" He called out, but I only kept moving.
"Seth-" He gripped my arm. I reacted almost immediately, ripping my arm away from his grasp.
"Don't touch me." I hissed out.
"I didn't want to lie to you!" He tried to reason with me.
I only scoffed at this.
"I didn't, but what else could I have said!"
"The truth maybe?"
"I just wanted to protect you."
This made me let out another cold laugh. "Oh, that is so bullshit, Paul. You just didn't have the guts to face me – AGAIN."
"Because I knew that you were going to react like this!"
I felt myself step back in disbelief. "Are you actually saying these words?" I asked in amazement. "Tell me, how would you react in this situation?"
"I just… I-"
"Spit it out!" I shouted.
"I just don't know what's going on." He sounded like he was on the edge, as he gripped the sides of his head as he let out a shiver.
"Well let me paint you a picture, Paul. First," I flipped up a finger. "you get your father to lie for you for weeks, all the while avoiding me as best as you could. Second, when I finally can speak to you, you tell me to get the hell out of your life and leave me questioning as to what horrible thing I could have possibly done to you for a whole month. Third, you come running back, begging for my forgiveness and promising to never do this again, and forth," I let out a breath. "You lied to me during my most vulnerable moment, even when you knew that I needed the truth."
Paul still didn't meet my gaze, though in a way I was glad, as I was now crying again.
"And now… you're a werewolf." I mocked the words.
"I'm sorry…" He whimpered out.
"Are you, Paul? Because from the looks of it, you really aren't. So, if you are done lying to me, then you need to stop lying to yourself."
The room was quiet, and I could tell our little audience's eyes bore into the two of us, but I felt too tired to care. He didn't seem to want to speak anymore, so I did.
"I gotta get going." I mumbled, pointing a thumb back to the door behind me while trying to wipe away my tear stained face with my other hand. "You keep doing your thing, Paul. Just…" I sighed. "Just leave me out of it."
Without another word, I turned around and opened the door, hearing Paul's faint voice call my name, but my hand simply slipped onto the outside handle and closed it behind me.
The seatbelt felt suffocating as I clicked it around my body. The rumble of the engine sounded, and I backed my way out of the driveway, not once looking back. I had blanked out the whole drive back home, which gave me a surprise as I had been staring at the front of my house before I realised it.
I couldn't hold back the choke that left my throat, and all too quickly I began to sob into the wheel. Crying over my father. Crying over how much my life had gone down hill in the last few months. Crying over Paul. The thought of that last one made me strike my dashboard with my fist as I let out another sob that was filled with so much sadness and so much anger. I remained there for a good hour, and by then, all the tears had dried up and I was no longer able to let anymore out, so I settled for just mindlessly staring out the windshield.
Paul is a werewolf. He's… a werewolf. Paul is… No matter how many times I repeated it in my head, the words just seemed to get more and more bizarre each time, but I knew they were true. They were so undeniably true that it made me feel sick.
Everything up till now seemed to finally make sense. All the sleepless nights wondering why Paul had left me. All the long days I would question what was going on in La Push. Everything seemed to finally fit, and the imaginary puzzle was complete.
I still didn't understand it though. The tribe's legends… weren't they all suppose to be protecting us somehow? Not the opposite. Unless, they were like the werewolves in fiction. Full moons and flesh eating…
I felt myself shiver at the thought.
Where would I go from here? I couldn't possibly speak to Paul anymore knowing he did… what he does. And Leah… My own sister was a werewolf. Did she also eat people?
Did she know about Sam killing dad?
The questions from the missing information was painfully confusing, and I began to rhythmically hit my head onto the wheel in hopes of getting it all to just fall out of my head – or knock myself out.
I noticed a figure walk around the side of the truck, but I didn't bother to check who. There was sound of the passenger side door opening, only to close again. Moments passed, and I could tell it was Leah by the fact that she would be the only one who wouldn't mind the silence that lingered in the air. I knew I probably should've felt scared by the fact that a werewolf was in my truck, but I really couldn't get my mind around seeing anything but my own sister.
"Did I ever tell you about why Sam left me?" I heard her voice speak up.
I merely shook my head, not wanting to look at her. Maybe I was too scared to.
"Well, he actually didn't break up with me. I broke up with him."
My closed eyes peaked open, but I still didn't turn.
"You see, when Sam proposed to me last summer, it was out of guilt, though I didn't know that at the time."
Guilt? What would he have felt guilt for? I thought to myself.
"At first, I was so unbelievably happy. My boyfriend of three years had just asked me to marry him." She then sighed. "So happy that I didn't think to realise just how close Sam and Emily got." I could hear how choked up her voice was becoming. "Seth, do you know what imprinting is?" She asked me.
"N-not really." I mumbled.
She let out a shaky breath. "Imprinting is like… when you first look at them – look right into their eyes – you know they're the one. And then suddenly, it's no longer your own two feet that are keeping you on the ground, but instead, it's them. Like if your whole world shifted from under you."
"So, love at first sight?" I said, thinking back to the conversation I had with Paul that day.
"No. No, it's so much stronger than that. It's just…" I heard her voice falter slightly. "It's like a bond that can never be broken, no matter what. It's something that… us wolves can do."
I flinched at the last part, and she then went silent again. I questioned if she was going to continue her story, and as seconds passed, it hit me.
So happy that I didn't think to realise just how close Sam and Emily got.
"Sam imprinted on Emily?" I asked, though I felt as if I already knew the answer.
"Yeah." She whispered. "I began seeing it – how he reacted around Emily, and then how he reacted around me. It made me feel so… insecure for the longest time, as if I just wasn't good enough – I didn't know about the imprint at the time." She added. "So… I realised that he was in love with her and…" She trailed off.
"You broke up with him."
"Yeah." She sighed again, and then we went silent.
I contemplated asking the question, as I feared what answer she would give me, but I managed to put on a brave composure and turned to her.
"Do you… know…?" I asked, hoping she would pick up what I meant. She tilted her head to the side, questioning what I meant.
"Do you know…" I began again. "About Sam… killing… D-" My voice cut off, and I felt myself begin to choke up.
"Killing what?" She asked me, looking confused as to what I was trying to say.
"Dad…" My voice was barely audible. "About Sam killing dad."
She stared at me for a moment, the confused face then turning humorous.
"You think that Sam Uley killed our father." She asked with disbelief.
"Yes?"
"Oh Seth." She shook her head. "You are so stupidly ignorant, you know that?"
I gave her a hard stare. "What's that suppose to mean?"
"Of course Sam didn't kill dad, you dingus. Why would you even think that?"
"W-well because Paul said he had a heart attack from a bear! And I know damn well bears wouldn't be out of hibernation in March, so it was completely obvious that the only other explanation was-"
"The wolves." Leah cut me off, groaning into her hands. "Paul is such an idiot sometimes. I swear that temperamental ass probably has a brain the size of a peanut." Her voice came out muffled.
"S-so Sam didn't?"
"No, Sam definitely didn't."
"Then what did?"
"I don't think I'm allowed to tell you that right now." She seemed apologetic.
"Does it have something to do with… werewolves?" I asked.
She nodded.
"Okay." I could accept that for now, so long as I eventually found out what did.
"I have another question." I said, feeling slightly braver than I did when we first started this conversation while I thought back to all the "Bear attacks" that seemed to be happening.
"Fire away."
"Are… are you guys killing people?"
She didn't speak, which made me began fearing the worst. I waited and waited, until finally, I couldn't wait any longer, and as I turned to her, I couldn't help but feel shocked. She had a hand over her mouth, trying her hardest to muffle the laugher that escaped from her, but ultimately failing.
"No," She said in between laughs. "No, we're not killing people."
I knew I should have felt relief, but my curiosity wouldn't allow it. "Then what is?"
Her laughter began dying down into a hum, and she wiped away a tear from her eye before turning to me. "Still can't say."
"Oh, come on!" I nearly shouted. "I already know about you guys being werewolves, what else could there possibly be?"
"More than you know, little bro." And on that note, she opened her door, hopping out and started making her way to the house.
I remained there for a moment. More that I'll ever know… What does that even mean? I jumped out and quickly followed behind.
The remainder of the day was spent idly walking around my home, questioning my own sanity as I wondered what was and wasn't real about the things that had happened today. It was in the late night – around twelve – when my mother came into my room to tell me she was heading to bed. I told her goodnight, but she stayed lingering in my doorway.
"I got off the phone with the council just now. They said that they want to speak with you early in the morning if that's alright."
"Speak to me about what?"
She paused, eyeing me with what I wondered was worry, but was quickly masked over.
"Just some things is all. It wont take long."
I wanted a more specific answer, but as she left without another word, I figured the rest of the conversation would have to wait until tomorrow.
I awoke to a gray sky, but there wasn't rain. As I sluggishly made my way down into the kitchen, I saw my mother already awake making breakfast.
"G'mornin'." I mumbled.
"Oh, you're already up. Good, good." She flipped the eggs that were in the pan. "We're leaving to go to the town council-building after breakfast, so be ready."
With a thud, I sat down onto a chair. "You still haven't told me what this is about." I stated, not looking of from the news paper that was now in my hand.
"You'll find out when we get there." She said.
How ominous, I thought.
I ate breakfast quicker than I had liked, though I had been starving. I help my mother wash up the dishes before she went to retrieve her coat from the closet.
"You driving?" I asked, coming back down from my room, bag and jacket in hand,
"Sure."
I tossed her the keys.
The drive was silent, and my nerves didn't seem to let up, so the whole way there I sat anxiously, tapping on my right leg with my hand as I stared out into the unchanging view of La Push. My mother parked the truck, before turning to me.
"Ready?" was all she said, as we were now in the parking lot.
"As I'll ever be."
I stepped out; my ideas now going haywire as to what the council would want to speak to me about. Maybe they knew that I've been hunting in the woods, and they were going to fine me for whatever reason – maybe being too young and not having adult supervision. That seemed reasonable.
I opened the front door for my mother, which she graciously thanked as we both made our way inside. We were greeted by the receptionist. She looked to be an old woman who was easily in her fifties. I found it strange that I didn't at least somewhat recognize her. Maybe I didn't know the people on the rez as much as I thought I did.
My mother led me towards the back of the building where conferences were held – I knew this as my father used to bring me here all the time as a kid. Though walking through it now felt foreign in a way. I didn't like it.
My mother opened the two doors to the conference room, where I immediately laid eyes on Billy Black, the first person I recognised. Next to him sat old Quil. He was the grandfather of Quil Altera the fifth, and a long-time friend of my father. Beside him sat Leah, sitting in a chair with her arms crossed, and next to her was Sam Uley. My relaxed composure suddenly went ridged.
"Hello, Seth." Billy nodded at me, but my stare only remained tense.
What was going on?
"Take a seat, please." Billy's voice was kind, though I could tell he seemed slightly nervous. I did as he ordered and sat across from the four of them. My mother followed, sitting next to the chair beside me.
"Now, before I get into… anything, I just want to say that if you need any water, there is some there-" He indicated to the jug that was placed in the middle of the table. "and if you need any breaks to… process anything, just let us know."
I nodded, still not having any idea as to what was happening.
"So, Seth." Billy began once more. "I have been informed by these two-" His gaze turned onto both Leah and Sam. "that you know the existence of the wolves?"
I froze.
Was this meeting about this? And they… knew? They knew about the werewolves? What the hell?
My widened eyes still on Billy; mouth slightly parted as I began mouthing the question.
"Y-you know?"
"Yes, it's apart of the council's job to know."
I felt my back hit the chair, as I simply gazed off into nothing, questioning how this week could get any stranger. My own mother knew about the werewolves. This should have surprised me, but I think by that point, I wouldn't have been shocked to even see Darth Vader walk into the room.
"I know this is a lot to take in, but the first thing you need to understand is that they are not dangerous. It's quite actually the opposite. They're… protecting us."
"Protecting us?" I repeated, disbelieving. "Protecting us from what?"
Billy shifted back, as if he were questioning whether to tell me or not. I waited to know the one question that had been confusing me since yesterday. I needed to.
"Well let's not skip ahead too fast now." My mother said, patting my shoulder, but I simply shrugged her off.
"She's right." I heard old Quil's frail voice speak up.
Billy nodded at this. "Okay, just so we're clear Seth, I need you to say that you understand that the wolves are not hurting anyone."
"The wolves are not hurting anyone." My monotonous voice repeated, growing extremely impatient.
"Okay…" He sighed. "Now, the next thing I will tell you, might come as a shock-"
"JUST-" I paused, stopping myself from losing my rapidly increasing temper. "Just tell me." I said calmly. "Please."
He seemed taken back by my sudden outburst, but continued, once again looking over at Sam and Leah. "Okay, well… the thing is, is that they were born with the gene which turns them into wolves."
I nodded, remembering something similar Paul had said yesterday.
"Well, you also have this gene, and it's very possible in the near future that you may become one as well."
I sat up, hearing the words fully hit me. I might become one as well.
Moments of silence passed, before the only sound that was heard was the suppressed laughter coming from myself, but I caught sight of Billy's face which looked unamused.
"I-I'm s-sorry, please continue." I said between breathless laughs.
"Seth, this really isn't a laughing matter. I'm being one-hundred percent serious."
"I know." I laughed again. "I know it's real. That's why I'm laughing." Billy just told me that I had the genes of a werewolf, so how could I not be amused by such a thing?
"Oh god." I said wiping the tears from my eyes. "Now that was what I needed." And it really was. I needed just that little tiny push, and now that I had it, I was falling over the edge into the depths of insanity. Questioning whether such a thing was possible would be meaningless at this point, so I accepted it with open arms.
I caught a glance at a figure behind me, and when I shifted my head, I turned onto the rest of the supposed werewolves – even Paul, who looked at me with a worried expression while I tried to contain my erratic fit of laughter.
"So now that you understand that, we should move onto the next thing-"
"You know what?" I cut him off. "I've had my fill of crazy for the day, so I think I'm just gonna head out." I said, standing up from the seat.
"Seth," My mother grabbed my arm. "please just stay till the end."
"No, you know what mom? It's fine, really." My laughing tone had died back down into a more neutral state again. "I don't need to hear anymore, I just… I just need to be alone for a while, okay?" I broke free from her grasp, turning around and pushing my way through the bodies of werewolves. The receptionist said that she hoped I had enjoyed my time there, but I didn't even bother to give a nod as I pushed my way out the front door to my truck.
I was on the road once more, not knowing where I was going. I could barely see as I was once again bawling. My slight mood swings had been off the charts lately, and I hadn't the idea why. Maybe it was a werewolf thing, I thought with humor, but that seemed to make my crying self sob harder than I already had.
I figured that the realization had finally hit – the fact of being told I would one day become the… 'monsters' that I had been chasing for months now. Wasn't there a saying for such a situation? You either die a hero or live long enough to become the villain – or something like that.
Not that I was a hero or anything, but it seemed fitting at that moment.
I stopped the truck in one of the parking spaces at the beach, and the crying had settled into gentle sobs. I stepped out of the truck, almost not even noticing how it was pouring rain. I didn't bother to pull my hood up. I found myself walking around the beach, gently tossing flat rocks into the water, seeing how far they would skip. Me and Paul used to do this when we were kids. It had seemed like forever since then.
At that moment, as I went over everything that had happened in the last few months, I felt as if though a decade had passed since it all started, and I was now twenty-seven years-old.
I was now sitting on a log of driftwood, staring blankly out into nothing, not knowing if I was crying or not as the pouring rain only seemed to come down harder and louder. The log of driftwood moved slightly under added weight, and I looked to my left, seeing Paul.
I didn't greet him. I didn't say anything as I turned my head back out to gaze at the endless sea. My body almost felt so numb that I barely felt it when Paul picked up my hand in his own.
We remained like that for a while, not saying anything; just watching as the rain poured around us. His free hand would sometimes brush the strands of hair out of my face every time the water droplets knocked it down, and his other had been rubbing small circles with his thumb on mine. It was only until I let out the slight shiver that I asked the question that had been eating away at me for months.
"What killed my father." I asked him, though I questioned whether he heard my quiet voice over the rain.
"A vampire." He said loud enough for me to hear.
I could tell he was waiting for my reaction when he said those words, but all I did was nod, grasping onto his hand tighter as I gazed back out into the ocean.
