September 5, 1936
Sally and I went down to Hoquiam. It did not go well. She knows what they are now.
I had been a wolf for a week. It was the only way I could stop myself from trying to visit Sally. They thought she needed time away from me, so I stayed away. I did not pay attention to borders, so it is possible I was in Canada or Oregon or even Idaho for awhile. I heard a lot of hikers and avoided a lot of roads. I did not meet any cold ones.
It hurt less to breathe when I was a wolf. When hunting rabbits and deer was all I thought about. As I lay down underneath a tall, skinny sub-alpine fir tree, the moon was so large and so full it lit everything around me, as though it was still day. There were no clouds and the wind merely played in the branches, a happy wind. The struggle to survive, the instinct to run faded away and all I could see was Sally's face.
I stayed awake all night, memorizing each hair and each part of her face. Her eyes looked at me, then away, laughing, then contemplative. Sadness, then peace. I watched her emotions for hours and hours. As the sun began to come up, I blinked and the vision that had stayed with me all night disappeared. The grass was green under the tree, but brown at its roots, struggling to find enough light and enough water to survive. I thought about the face I had seen and wondered what it meant. I stretched my paws out in front of me and felt the shimmer of Quil joining me.
Good Morning, Ephraim. How is the wolfing life?
I smiled at Quil's question, but was quickly pulled back into my serious mood. It's going fine, although I am not sure I slept at all last night. I had the weirdest thing happen. I thought of Sally's face for a second, but then I started staring at the fir branches, securing my thoughts of Sally to myself.
Quil cleared his throat and interrupted my counting of the needles, "Sally actually wanted me to ask you something. She has a favor to ask of you but she doesn't think you will like it. She wouldn't even tell me what it was. She seemed embarrassed about whatever it was. Quil paused for a moment. How far away are you?
I am not really sure. I stopped keeping track three days ago. Somewhere east of Seattle. It's like a desert almost.
Well, Sally wanted to make you dinner. Do you think you could get home for that? I started moving after his first three words. Sally. Wanted. What else could there be?
Sure, sure. I can do it, I thought, leaping over a short and wide bilberry bush. My paws hit the ground hard, again and again, creating a rhythm in my head and heart. I ran west, the sun at my tail, casting great monstrous shadows in front of me. My legs kept running but my heart suddenly froze. I am a monster. Sally had a favor to ask of me, but that didn't mean she liked me or could trust me.
But she doesn't hate you.
How do you know? I moaned.
Levi had a talk with her. He remembered the night before, Sally at his door, the darkness behind her and quiet in Quil's house told me it was late at night. Quil remembered her words, 'Could you ask Ephraim to come home? I have a favor to ask of him.' Quil felt worried at her words, but she continued, 'I don't hate him.'
That was enough for me. I ran faster, dodging the fir trees as I ran up hills and leaped over thin meandering streams. I heard Quil chuckle, I will check on your progress after you have worn yourself out, he thought and I felt the mindspace empty out. My hunting instinct was gone, leaving only the draw of my own personal home. Sally.
I could not run a straight line, and I was not sure I wanted to. I couldn't tell if I was north or south of La Push and I was not sure when something would become familiar, but I knew that if I kept running west, soon I would reach the coast. The coast I knew like the back of my paw. But this terrain was brown. Almost flat. Broken up by large farms and the occasional fir tree. It was hard to hide in corn fields, so I relied on my nose, directing me away from any curious onlookers. But it was adding miles to my trip.
My mind began to hear words in the rhythm of my pawfalls. Sally wants. Sally wants. The words were pressed into my brain. Sally wants. Sally wants.
I leaped through a large river, getting soaked as I waded and paddled across to the other side. Then the mountains began. At least there were no people, but the last of the mountain snow under my feet slowed me down quite a bit. As I started to run down the other side, the rain started to pitter down. Slowly at first, then an outburst of rain splattered down around me, chilling me even through my fur. I ran faster, hoping to dry off with the wind. The white batch on my chest dried first, puffing out.
By noon, the sun was high in the sky, beating down on my wet fur, warming my back and head as I ran through the forest and up and down mountains. I searched the horizon for landmarks, for anything I could recognize. Finally, to my right, I saw it. Mount Tahoma. I knew the way home from there. I turned south, but only slightly, running southwest so I would miss the mountain. I didn't need any more snow. The paths became more familiar, and I redoubled my efforts again. Up ahead I could see a creek sparkling in the sunlight, enticing me and blinding me. I realized suddenly I was thirsty. I stopped at the edge of the creek and bent over to drink. My legs collapsed beneath me, pain shooting through them. I let out an unexpected howl, and tensed in pain. After a minute, I relaxed and sniffed the water tentatively, then drank deeply.
I knew I had to run again, had to stand and run and return to Sally, but my legs refused. I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. I could feel the muscles in my legs repairing themselves, knitting the tears and refueling the cells. I was tired and I felt the sleep take over. I opened my eyes with a start and leaped up. No! I thought to myself. I will not fall asleep. Not with Sally waiting for me.
I woke up my mind with a violent shake of my head, my fur shaking with the force. I easily jumped over the creek and continued on toward La Push.
As Mount Tahoma's foothills began to gain height, I turned straight west, crossing below the tents and shacks full of unshowered men that dotted the southern side of Olympia. I stuck to the brush and remaining stands of pine and hemlock.
At last, I turned north. The sun was hidden behind thick gray layers of clouds, but I was encouraged by the brightness. It was still before dinner. I might actually make it. I relished in the feel of the familiar cedars, I had entered the National Forest. My Forest, the territory we used to hunt, the place I still center most of my patrols on. The only things that felt closer to me than this forest were La Push and Sally. The rhythm filled my ears, paw over paw, again and again. I could hear the wind, familiar through the trees. I could smell the cedar and bear grass replacing the foreign smells of cities and deserts and mountain snow.
I continued along the outside edge of the forest and finally cut across the quiet Highway. With my speed, I quickly smelled the ocean. The salty, fishy smells of tides and clams and whales.
As I ran up the coast, the steep cliffs lining the edges where forest met ocean, I felt Quil enter the mindspace. Ephraim, have you collapsed from exhaustion yet?
Almost….there, I panted. Even my thoughts were out of breath. I raised my head, staring at my surroundings as they whizzed by so Quil would know how close I was.
Wow. OK. You might even have time to bathe before dinner. I will get Bixie to draw the water in your claw tub. You should be home in half an hour, right? Quil was starting to list details of how he could help me, but I shook my head.
I will be fine Quil. I'll just fill the bath myself when I get there. I'm sure Bixie is busy.
Quil scoffed, but agreed. All right, be a man. Get your own bath. He changed back to human form and I was left alone again. I reached the outskirts of town, where some new homes had been ordered from Sears last year. The tribe had helped the family pull it down off the truck piece by piece and then put it together like a giant puzzle. I turned and ducked behind their house, deeper into the woods. The houses were still all bunched up on the beach, with repairs occurring after each storm. I passed the backs of the homes of council members and school children. Fishermen and widows.
Finally I could see my house, the one-story lumber yard creation. I started a tradition once I met Sally and each year on her birthday I picked a project to finish on my house. That was how I got a sink, a tub and a wood shed. Last year, I decided to paint. Sally chose a bright white paint with a cheery green trim around the windows.
The sun cast an orange glow through the clouds, turning my house a beautiful amber color. It stood with its mossy wood shingles on the roof and green door beckoning. But I stayed out of sight, in the back. I phased and slunk to the ground.
Besides the exhaustion, I was not sure my legs knew how to work anymore. I crawled to the house and went in the back door, still grey with age. The tub was in the laundry shed, connected to the back just a few years ago, so I leaned up over the edge and turned on the faucet. The curtains in the front room were open, so I closed the laundry room door and pulled myself into the tub. At first the water was freezing, but it did not hurt. Slowly it got warmer, and browner, as the soap and water cleaned parts of me I had forgotten I had, like elbows and toes.
I leaned back, my legs sticking out of the water at the knees, and sighed. My eyes closed and I felt the exhaustion take over, slowly slipping into a warm soft peace.
I sat up with a start and realized I had fallen asleep. The sky from the back window was black, but it faces east. I jumped out of the tub and, grabbing a towel, rushed to the front room. The sun was still setting, the orange and red clouds touching the ocean horizon. I hurried to my room and dressed, wondering what Sally had made for dinner. My pants were loose and I tightened the suspenders around my shoulders to keep them up.
My boots were barely on when I closed the door behind me, hopping a few steps to settle them onto my feet. The walk to the Uley's house had never felt so long. I knocked on the door, three short raps. Levi opened it for me and welcomed me in. The aroma of roasted elk with parsnips, potatoes and carrots filled the kitchen. Sally and Ruth were doing the dance of final preparation, their dresses sliding past each other.
Matthew stood from the maroon chair and shook my hand. "How are you Ephraim? How was your trip?"
"Long and boring," I replied, trying to remember which lie I had told. Sally caught my eye in the other room, her olive green dress cinched in at the waist with a thin belt, matching the white squares scattered across the fabric from the collar to the hem brushing her calves. Her arms were gripping an imaginary circle in front of her, twisting it back and forth, like a steering wheel. "The truck held up, that's the important thing." Sally smiled. I had successfully read her pantomime.
"Dinner is ready," Ruth said. Levi stopped beside his wife and helped her stand on his left side. Together, the elders of the household walked to the table, sitting next to each other. Once we were all settled in and eating, Ruth looked pointedly at her daughter.
Sally cleared her throat, "I am sorry I was rude to you Ephraim. I know you were only trying to keep me safe."
"That's alright, Sally. I am sorry I kept checking on you when you only wanted to be left alone," I replied. Relief filled the whole house and centered on the diagonal line connecting Sally and I. Suddenly, Sally tensed.
"I have a favor to ask of you. You might not like it," she spoke again, playing with her mashed potatoes. Her head was down, her thick black hair shielding her face.
"I personally think it is a good idea. Something has to be done, and you are the only one we would trust," Ruth said, interrupting Sally's thought process. Levi looked a little irritated.
"Mom! I can do this myself," she said, miffed at the interruption. She gathered a big breath and began. "I think we should go down to Hoquiam and thank the Cullens for helping me. I could make cookies and that potato salad you say is so good." I was speechless. I looked at the faces of the people at the table. Sally was embarrassed, Ruth was hopeful. Levi and Sarah were hesitant and Matthew was eating. I could not imagine what to say.
Sally began again, "I just feel like we owe them so much and they wouldn't take any money, so I thought this would be the next best thing. Mom says you can drive me down. We could talk on the way. Please, I really need to do something." She lifted her sweet light brown eyes, linking them with mine.
I knew I was beat. As much as the blood boiled up inside me to think of her close to a cold one again, this was something she needed to do. "Sure, sure. I can drive you down. I think a talk would do us some good."
Levi's eyes got dark. He had been hoping I would say no. He did not like the idea of his granddaughter close to vampires any more than I did.
"Well, that will be a fun trip for you two. When do you plan on going, Sally?" Matthew asked.
"Friday. That way I can cook and bake tomorrow," came her reply.
She baked more than just cookies. When I picked her up Friday morning, she carried out a basket of cookies and a glass bowl of potato salad with a tea towel on top. On her shoulder was the canvas hiking bag we had used before. "There are two cakes in there too, can you get them, please?" I nodded and ducked into the house. Ruth and Sarah had gone shopping, leaving Levi alone in the house with me. He glared at me.
"How can you even consider doing this? It's insane. You might as well put frosting on her, too. She is the only thing they are going to find appetizing out of all this stuff." He threw down the table knife full of pink frosting and pushed the finished cake toward me.
"You know it hurts to tell her no," I explained.
"I know." His reply was calmer, but still irritated. "Just be careful. They say they don't bite humans, but I still don't trust them."
"Me neither," I agreed as Sally called my name from the pickup. We secured the food in the seat between us, and Sally waved to her grandfather, her teenage enthusiasm obvious and annoying, but also catching. I couldn't smile at Levi, but inside, I was excited for a road trip with Sally. Driving to Forks or Port Angeles or even Aberdeen had always been something we enjoyed doing. Sally loved movies and new places. She was also wide-eyed on our drives, marveling at the scenery, then at the cities.
We took the highway, passing through Forks and then we headed south, down along the coast. We knew the Cullens lived in Hoquiam, and we were relying on my sense of smell to find them once we got there. Sally played with her fingers in her lap, casting small shadows the cream dress she wore to the school dance at the end of May. The chiffon sleeves rustled a little in the breeze created by the open window.
"So…. where did you go?" she began hesitantly.
"I don't really know. I just ran. There were mountains and deserts, but mostly I just ran." I could barely remember anything about the last week now that I was with Sally again. My heartbeat was regular and warm in my chest.
She looked out the window. Her voice bounced off the glass and whispered back into the cab. "I missed you."
I blinked. I felt my face go blank in shock. Then the meaning of her words hit me.
"I missed you, too," I assured her.
"Don't leave again," she begged.
"I promise."
Hoquiam appeared suddenly, after driving through miles and miles of trees, houses began to crowd together. The highway took us into the heart of the city and I pulled to the side of the road to try to find the Cullens. I opened my car door and sniffed. Forest smells and human smells and the dirty dog in the fenced yard next to us were easy to smell and pinpoint. The Cullens were harder. I slammed my door and walked over to Sally's side of the Dodge pickup.
"I am going to go into that clump of trees," I said pointing to a nearby forest, "I will be right back." Sally nodded and I ran off to change into wolf form. My senses were heightened and I could smell the rubber and paint of the Ford Deuce, mixed with a painful lingering sweetness, they had been through here within the last week. The scent was headed south, so I returned to my human form and climbed into the pickup, returning to the journey.
We reached a bridge crossing the harbor and had to wait while the two large arms closed back together to allow automobile travel. Its metal tresses clinked into place and the road guards holding back the car in front of us raised up. The water was full of boats, small boats for fishing and some canoes pulled up on the shore. On the other side of the bridge, I stopped to get my bearings again. The buildings around us were five and six stories tall. The cloudy skies above kept out the sun. We continued on eastward. I kept the window open and occasionally sniffed the rushing air. The smell was getting stronger and as we turned northeast.
As my nose began to burn with an intensified smell of Carlisle, we drove past a hospital and then up into a secluded road surrounded with trees. The scents of cold ones got stronger until they burned my nose and I pulled into a driveway, hidden from the main road.
I was pretty sure this was a bad idea. Even though the Cullens claimed to not hurt humans, I knew it was their first instinct, and first instincts are hard to fight. I looked over hesitantly at the beaming Sally. Her bright eyes taking in every inch of the Cullens home, her skin flushing slightly.
"Isn't it pretty. So big and clean." She looked over at me suddenly. "Ready?" she asked with a smile.
I screw my mouth in response and whispered, "sure, sure."
I climbed out and then leaned back in to retrieve the cakes Sally made. She joined me at the rounded front of the pickup, with a smile on her face. She tried to lead the way up to the door, but I sprinted ahead of her, catching the glare on her face as I rushed by.
"Still trying to protect me, I see?" She asked with a little veiled bitterness.
"Always," came my reply. I climbed the stairs in front of me and before I could figure out how to knock, the door swung angrily open.
"You should not be here," Edward hissed. His face was filled with anger and something else, fear.
Sally peeked over my shoulder, "I wanted to thank your dad for helping me. Is he here?"
"No," came the quick response. "I will tell him you called, please leave now." From behind him, I could hear the scuffles of a struggle. Two women's voices sounded reassuring and desperate. Murmuring anxiously. Edward backed up and closed the door. It was strange, but scary. I turned and pointed back to the pickup with my head.
"It's time to go, Sally." She stuck her lip out in frustration, stomping her foot once before I heard the loud crash of stone hitting stone, and then the sound of running, the door opened with fury and I saw the largest vampire I had ever seen. He had short dark hair and huge shoulders which filled the doorway. His eyes were black and there was a wild look in his eyes I recognized. Hunger.
I looked down at the pink and chocolate frosted cakes in my hands. I threw the two cakes at his face and turned around. In one swift movement I picked up Sally at the waist and threw her over my shoulder, sprinting for the pickup. The potato salad spilled down my back and the glass bowl shattered on the sidewalk. Cookies scattered in the grass.
I threw her in the cab of the pickup and slammed the door, turning to face the vampires. Edward, Rosalie and their mother had their arms on the big one, holding him back. The frosting on his face had been wiped off and he almost had a smile on his face.
"Frosting. Classic."
I growled.
"I told you to leave. Please," Edward said. I slipped over to the other side of my vehicle and stepped inside, keeping my eyes on the house. Rosalie was now in front of the big one, pushing him backwards into the house with her family helping from behind. The door closed and I started the car.
"Who was that?" Sally squeaked, as though I had an answer to everything.
"A cold one. A vampire." It was all I could manage to squeeze through my teeth.
"Why is there a vampire with the Cullens?"
"They are all vampires," I shot at Sally in frustration. "That is why I became a wolf in the forest, to protect you from them. That cold one was out of control." The road was a blur. I hoped my arms remembered the path home and would get me there safely.
As I turned onto the main road, I saw the Ford Deuce parked across both lanes and Dr. Carlisle leaning up against it, his dark brown suit making him look more like a movie star than a doctor. I considered ramming through his car, but realized I owed him at least an explanation.
I parked and turned to Sally. "Stay in the pickup. Lock the doors as soon as I leave and if anything happens to me, drive home as fast as you can." Her eyes were as wide and scared.
"I can't drive," she murmured.
I stepped out and looked back through the window until Sally leaned over my seat and locked the door. I breathed, composing myself, and turned to face the doctor. The clouds filtered out the sun and a slight breeze caused the trees above us to rustle and sigh. I walked over to Dr. Carlisle and stopped twenty feet away. "Well?" I demanded.
"I must apologize for Emmett. He is young and does not yet have the control the rest of my family have mastered. If it helps, he couldn't stop laughing once you left. A cake to the face was a great distraction," Dr. Carlisle said with a smile despite his efforts to keep a straight face.
"I'm glad I amuse him," I spat back. "If he had taken even one more step toward me, he would have been dead."
"I understand that. I also understand your desire to protect your friend and your tribe. But you need to understand the predicament you have put us in. We moved to this area for the wildlife. Emmett has not been able to hunt because my wife and daughter are concerned about what would have happened if he had run into you while you were on patrol."
I interrupted, "I would have killed him. That is what would have happened." I crossed my arms in front of me.
"Exactly. So he has been cooped up here at home, trying to survive on rabbits but really wanting Black bear and elk. We moved here so we would be close to the Olympic National Forest and all the wildlife surrounding it. We need to hunt." I understood what he was asking for. Permission. Carlisle's logic almost swayed me, but then I heard Sally shift behind me and my blood boiled at the memory of an out-of-control cold one so close to her.
"I need to get Sally home," I explained and motioned to his car in the way. He sighed, but returned to his car, pulling it out of my way. I tapped on the glass and Sally let me into the cab. Her face was a little wet, but she looked down, blocking her face with her hair. Carlisle passed on and returned home to his family. Sally refused to look at him.
"It's alright, Sally. I won't let them hurt you. Ever."
She sniffled and put her face in her hands. We drove that way for awhile, me wishing I could help her as she recovered from the shock of someone trying to eat her.
Finally I cleared my throat. "Sally, all the stories your grandfather tells at the legends campfires are true. A lot of them happened to him and me …. And Quil."
She looked out the window, her face reflecting in the glass so when I took my eyes off the road for a second, I could see her perfect face. I missed seeing that face for so long. My week away from her still caused my heart to hurt, just a little. I turned back to the road. "I am sorry I brought you down here. I had no idea they had an 'Emmett' out of control down there."
"No, I wanted you to bring me down. I wanted to say thank you. I could tell there was something wrong with them, my gut told me that. I guess I was just ignoring my gut. It's not your fault. I should have listened to grandpa," Sally said.
"Yeah, me too."
"Do you want a bean sandwich?" she asked. I looked over to meet her gaze.
"Sure."
She pulled out our hiking bag and pulled out a sandwich wrapped in wax paper. She opened the corner of it and handed it to me. My hand brushed hers on accident, as it had thousands of times before. But this time was different.
She noticed too, and smiled. Was it a spark? A tingle? I was not sure. We ate our brown bean sandwiches and she pulled out the canteen. "You really are prepared for anything, aren't you? Are you a boy scout now?" She grinned slightly at my joke and took another bite.