"Who was on the phone?" Laura asked her husband as she entered the living room with her purse on her arm.
"The owner of Weaver Manufacturing, Jonathan Weaver," Fenton answered. "There have been some break-ins and he wants me to take the case."
"Are you going to?" inquired Joe, his blue eyes curious as he looked at his father.
"Most probably," Fenton replied. "I will swing by his house on my way back from taking your mother to the airport. He lives in Southport so it will be late when I return."
"Don't you two wait up for him," Laura admonished her two sons. "You both need to get some rest," she continued with a frown. She really didn't want to leave now. Joe looked perfectly healthy but she couldn't help feeling that there was something wrong with her youngest son that she didn't know about.
"Don't worry, mom," Frank said, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a gentle squeeze. "I'll take care of the baby."
"Baby?" snorted Joe in mock anger. "I'm only a year younger than you!"
"But I'm an adult," Frank retorted. "I get to vote this year."
"Oh yeah; wise old man," Joe returned. "Oh boy, is this country in trouble," he mumbled loud enough to be heard.
Laura laughed, her blue eyes sparkling as Frank released her and grabbed a pillow. In seconds, the two teens were having an all out pillow war.
"Want me to stop them?" Fenton asked softly, his brown eyes gazing down into his wife's blue ones.
"No," she said. "Joe has seemed so sad since he was kidnapped by Aliem and Anderson. This is the happiest I have seen him since."
"I know," Fenton said, his own eyes clouding over with worry. "But he eats like there is no tomorrow," he added. "He can't be too bad off."
"Unless it's depression making him eat," Laura countered.
"Then he would be getting fat," Fenton pointed out.
Laura looked at the blond-headed youth that was winning the fight against his dark-haired older brother and smiled. Fenton was right. Joe was in perfect physical condition. Better even than he had been months before. No, it wasn't depression causing his appetite to increase. "You're right," she agreed, smiling up at Fenton. "Let's go."
"Don't leave without saying good-bye," Frank lectured his parents after Joe's pillow hit him one last time in the face.
"Sorry," Fenton apologized. "I didn't think we would be missed."
"Oh, we'll see you tomorrow," Joe said to his father, leaning down to give his petite mother a kiss on her cheek. "And don't worry," he added. "Frank will clean up the feathers."
"Why me?" Frank demanded.
"Because messes don't bother me," Joe explained with a sly smile.
Frank shook his head then kissed his mom's other cheek. "Have a good time with Aunt Adelaide," he said.
"Doubtful," Laura grimaced. "She's my least favorite of my mother's sisters," she explained. "But she is family and she does need someone to stay with her while she is in her cast."
Laura and Fenton left and Joe helped Frank clean up the mess they had made then they locked up and turned off all but the living room light which they left on for their father's return.
The lone youth walked unsteadily up the concrete walk, his steps faltering every so often as movement reached his ears. The wind whispered through the leaves on the trees that lined the sidewalk leading to the haven ahead.
He spun around, his breathing shallow as he listened intently. Had that been a footstep he had heard or merely a squirrel scampering across a driveway to reach another tree?
There! Someone was there. He was positive. Near the corner of the street was a shadow projected by the streetlight. But no. It wasn't the shadow of a person. The possessor was of the four-legged variety.
He took a step back as a giant wolf, easily four feet at the shoulders, emerged into the light. The wolf's eyes were glowing as the light reflected off of them. It stood at the corner, its eyes staring straight at the blond-headed boy and slowly bared its fangs. The nostrils moved up as a low growl emanated from the beast's throat.
Terrified, the boy turned and ran for the house at the corner, positive the beast could not follow him past the large Elm tree at the edge of the yard. But as the youth neared the tree, the beast landed on his back with a ferocious growl and lowered its huge mouth onto his neck.
Joe sat up in his bed shivering; the almost full moon shining brightly through his open bedroom window. He got out of bed and walked to the window and poked his head outside. The night air was stagnant with not even the slightest of breezes evident.
Joe closed his eyes, the horror of his nightmare making him impervious to the humid morning air. Dream symbolism, he thought with a grimace. His girlfriend, Vanessa Bender, had asked Joe to go with her to a lecture on the subject at Bayport University just days ago.
He rubbed his arms and stared out the window and up at the moon. I don't need a dream analyst to tell me what my dream means, he thought sadly. Closing his eyes, he moved away from the window. He took a step to this left and gave a sigh before opening his eyes because he knew what he would see. Swallowing, he opened his eyes and stared at the calendar in front of him. One day had been squared off in red and it was less than a week away.
Joe shivered again then returned to bed. He lay there staring at the ceiling. Why did this have to happen to me? he wondered as he drifted back to sleep.
"Up and at'em, Baby Brother," said Frank, pulling the sheet off of Joe. "It's almost ten."
"Already?" groaned Joe, stretching as he opened his eyes.
"Hey, you got to sleep in because it's Saturday," Frank told him. "Don't go getting used to it."
"I couldn't with you around," Joe retorted. "But I could get used to one night's uninterrupted sleep," he added with a yawn.
"Another nightmare?" asked Frank, sitting down on the bed beside Joe.
Joe nodded. "Well, the same one actually." He shook his head. "What am I going to do?" he asked, giving Frank a pleading look. "A full moon will be here before we know it and I don't want to hurt anyone."
"You won't," Frank assured him smiling.
Joe looked at him suspiciously. "Explain," he ordered, sitting up and crossing his arms.
"Well, you only change, naturally," he amended because it had become obvious being in close proximity to a rock from the moon could also change him, "when the moon is full."
"Maybe," Joe put in.
"What do you mean?" demanded Frank, his eyes darting to his.
"Some of the info I've read say strong feelings can effect a change," Joe informed him. "What if I get mad and start to transform?"
"That could be one of the false facts," Frank suggested although his smile faltered.
"Face it," stated Joe, his face revealing no emotion. "We don't know what is true and what isn't. Sure, I change and silver can burn me but when I'm not a wolf I can still get hurt and die."
"Maybe I can get hold of a tranquilizer pistol. If you transform from feelings then knocking you out for a couple of hours should return you to normal," reasoned Frank.
"Sounds plausible," Joe said although he did look dubious. He wasn't convinced he could be rendered unconscious in true wolf form.
"Anyway," continued Frank. "Biff and I have been working on something for you."
"What?" Joe demanded, his blue eyes alight with curiosity.
"A kind of safe house," Frank answered. "His parents own a cabin in the North Woods."
"Yeah, I know," Joe said. "We've gone up there with him a few times."
"Well, what you don't know is that Mr. Hooper, Biff's granddad, had a bomb shelter installed there when he first bought the place," Frank informed him. "Remember, back then there was a craze about Russia dropping bombs on the United States."
"I know," Joe replied with a scrunched up nose. "Part of that cold war thing we studied in history."
"Biff took me up there the day before yesterday while mom took you for your check-up with Dr. Bates," Frank continued. "With a little renovation, it could be a good place to lock you in. The night of the full moon we could shut you in a little before sundown and keep you there until the next morning."
"That would be great!" Joe enthused, his blue eyes showing the first real sign of relief in weeks. "But how are we going to explain going up there every month? Even on a school night?"
"I'll think of something," promised Frank. "But we may not have to worry about it this month," he continued. "I caught Dad as he was leaving this morning. He took the case and may be out of touch for awhile."
"Is he going to call?" inquired Joe.
Frank shrugged. "If he gets a chance, I daresay he will," he said. "But for now, get out of bed. Callie called. She and Vanessa are on their way over to pick us up."
"Where are we going?" asked Joe, standing up and stretching.
"I have no idea," Frank replied with a grin. "But Callie said it was somewhere quiet and relaxing where no one would bother us."
"Sounds like heaven," Joe said sadly.
"What's wrong?" demanded Frank.
"I have to break up with Vanessa."
"The owner of Weaver Manufacturing, Jonathan Weaver," Fenton answered. "There have been some break-ins and he wants me to take the case."
"Are you going to?" inquired Joe, his blue eyes curious as he looked at his father.
"Most probably," Fenton replied. "I will swing by his house on my way back from taking your mother to the airport. He lives in Southport so it will be late when I return."
"Don't you two wait up for him," Laura admonished her two sons. "You both need to get some rest," she continued with a frown. She really didn't want to leave now. Joe looked perfectly healthy but she couldn't help feeling that there was something wrong with her youngest son that she didn't know about.
"Don't worry, mom," Frank said, putting an arm around her shoulders and giving her a gentle squeeze. "I'll take care of the baby."
"Baby?" snorted Joe in mock anger. "I'm only a year younger than you!"
"But I'm an adult," Frank retorted. "I get to vote this year."
"Oh yeah; wise old man," Joe returned. "Oh boy, is this country in trouble," he mumbled loud enough to be heard.
Laura laughed, her blue eyes sparkling as Frank released her and grabbed a pillow. In seconds, the two teens were having an all out pillow war.
"Want me to stop them?" Fenton asked softly, his brown eyes gazing down into his wife's blue ones.
"No," she said. "Joe has seemed so sad since he was kidnapped by Aliem and Anderson. This is the happiest I have seen him since."
"I know," Fenton said, his own eyes clouding over with worry. "But he eats like there is no tomorrow," he added. "He can't be too bad off."
"Unless it's depression making him eat," Laura countered.
"Then he would be getting fat," Fenton pointed out.
Laura looked at the blond-headed youth that was winning the fight against his dark-haired older brother and smiled. Fenton was right. Joe was in perfect physical condition. Better even than he had been months before. No, it wasn't depression causing his appetite to increase. "You're right," she agreed, smiling up at Fenton. "Let's go."
"Don't leave without saying good-bye," Frank lectured his parents after Joe's pillow hit him one last time in the face.
"Sorry," Fenton apologized. "I didn't think we would be missed."
"Oh, we'll see you tomorrow," Joe said to his father, leaning down to give his petite mother a kiss on her cheek. "And don't worry," he added. "Frank will clean up the feathers."
"Why me?" Frank demanded.
"Because messes don't bother me," Joe explained with a sly smile.
Frank shook his head then kissed his mom's other cheek. "Have a good time with Aunt Adelaide," he said.
"Doubtful," Laura grimaced. "She's my least favorite of my mother's sisters," she explained. "But she is family and she does need someone to stay with her while she is in her cast."
Laura and Fenton left and Joe helped Frank clean up the mess they had made then they locked up and turned off all but the living room light which they left on for their father's return.
The lone youth walked unsteadily up the concrete walk, his steps faltering every so often as movement reached his ears. The wind whispered through the leaves on the trees that lined the sidewalk leading to the haven ahead.
He spun around, his breathing shallow as he listened intently. Had that been a footstep he had heard or merely a squirrel scampering across a driveway to reach another tree?
There! Someone was there. He was positive. Near the corner of the street was a shadow projected by the streetlight. But no. It wasn't the shadow of a person. The possessor was of the four-legged variety.
He took a step back as a giant wolf, easily four feet at the shoulders, emerged into the light. The wolf's eyes were glowing as the light reflected off of them. It stood at the corner, its eyes staring straight at the blond-headed boy and slowly bared its fangs. The nostrils moved up as a low growl emanated from the beast's throat.
Terrified, the boy turned and ran for the house at the corner, positive the beast could not follow him past the large Elm tree at the edge of the yard. But as the youth neared the tree, the beast landed on his back with a ferocious growl and lowered its huge mouth onto his neck.
Joe sat up in his bed shivering; the almost full moon shining brightly through his open bedroom window. He got out of bed and walked to the window and poked his head outside. The night air was stagnant with not even the slightest of breezes evident.
Joe closed his eyes, the horror of his nightmare making him impervious to the humid morning air. Dream symbolism, he thought with a grimace. His girlfriend, Vanessa Bender, had asked Joe to go with her to a lecture on the subject at Bayport University just days ago.
He rubbed his arms and stared out the window and up at the moon. I don't need a dream analyst to tell me what my dream means, he thought sadly. Closing his eyes, he moved away from the window. He took a step to this left and gave a sigh before opening his eyes because he knew what he would see. Swallowing, he opened his eyes and stared at the calendar in front of him. One day had been squared off in red and it was less than a week away.
Joe shivered again then returned to bed. He lay there staring at the ceiling. Why did this have to happen to me? he wondered as he drifted back to sleep.
"Up and at'em, Baby Brother," said Frank, pulling the sheet off of Joe. "It's almost ten."
"Already?" groaned Joe, stretching as he opened his eyes.
"Hey, you got to sleep in because it's Saturday," Frank told him. "Don't go getting used to it."
"I couldn't with you around," Joe retorted. "But I could get used to one night's uninterrupted sleep," he added with a yawn.
"Another nightmare?" asked Frank, sitting down on the bed beside Joe.
Joe nodded. "Well, the same one actually." He shook his head. "What am I going to do?" he asked, giving Frank a pleading look. "A full moon will be here before we know it and I don't want to hurt anyone."
"You won't," Frank assured him smiling.
Joe looked at him suspiciously. "Explain," he ordered, sitting up and crossing his arms.
"Well, you only change, naturally," he amended because it had become obvious being in close proximity to a rock from the moon could also change him, "when the moon is full."
"Maybe," Joe put in.
"What do you mean?" demanded Frank, his eyes darting to his.
"Some of the info I've read say strong feelings can effect a change," Joe informed him. "What if I get mad and start to transform?"
"That could be one of the false facts," Frank suggested although his smile faltered.
"Face it," stated Joe, his face revealing no emotion. "We don't know what is true and what isn't. Sure, I change and silver can burn me but when I'm not a wolf I can still get hurt and die."
"Maybe I can get hold of a tranquilizer pistol. If you transform from feelings then knocking you out for a couple of hours should return you to normal," reasoned Frank.
"Sounds plausible," Joe said although he did look dubious. He wasn't convinced he could be rendered unconscious in true wolf form.
"Anyway," continued Frank. "Biff and I have been working on something for you."
"What?" Joe demanded, his blue eyes alight with curiosity.
"A kind of safe house," Frank answered. "His parents own a cabin in the North Woods."
"Yeah, I know," Joe said. "We've gone up there with him a few times."
"Well, what you don't know is that Mr. Hooper, Biff's granddad, had a bomb shelter installed there when he first bought the place," Frank informed him. "Remember, back then there was a craze about Russia dropping bombs on the United States."
"I know," Joe replied with a scrunched up nose. "Part of that cold war thing we studied in history."
"Biff took me up there the day before yesterday while mom took you for your check-up with Dr. Bates," Frank continued. "With a little renovation, it could be a good place to lock you in. The night of the full moon we could shut you in a little before sundown and keep you there until the next morning."
"That would be great!" Joe enthused, his blue eyes showing the first real sign of relief in weeks. "But how are we going to explain going up there every month? Even on a school night?"
"I'll think of something," promised Frank. "But we may not have to worry about it this month," he continued. "I caught Dad as he was leaving this morning. He took the case and may be out of touch for awhile."
"Is he going to call?" inquired Joe.
Frank shrugged. "If he gets a chance, I daresay he will," he said. "But for now, get out of bed. Callie called. She and Vanessa are on their way over to pick us up."
"Where are we going?" asked Joe, standing up and stretching.
"I have no idea," Frank replied with a grin. "But Callie said it was somewhere quiet and relaxing where no one would bother us."
"Sounds like heaven," Joe said sadly.
"What's wrong?" demanded Frank.
"I have to break up with Vanessa."