The Amazing Wolf Boy

Part 59 - The Sunshine Motel

As the morning progressed, I began feeling ill with the flu-like symptoms I always got on a full moon. Around noon, Brittany left to get ready for work, and I went home. I didn't pedal as fast going back. As I pulled onto the driveway, I saw Uncle Bob sitting on the porch swing, reading the newspaper.

He looked up and smiled. "Where you been, boy?"

"Just out with Brittany." I clomped up the steps and leaned against the rail. "I thought you'd be finishing your chicken coop."

"Nah. It's Good Friday. People don't like a lot of noise."

"Which reminds me," I said, "Brittany invited me to Easter dinner. I hope that won't be a problem."

"Meeting the family. Sounds serious."

"It is, sir."

"Well, I hope you have a nice time." He folded his newspaper. "You free tonight?"

"Ah, yeah."

"Good. I'll take you somewhere special."

"Great," I said without emotion. "I'm looking forward to it."

I went into the house. My palms were sweaty, and I felt sick to my stomach. I splashed some water on my face. Then I pulled my laptop out from under my bed and checked the Yellow Pages on the Internet. The Sunshine Motel was near the new tattoo parlor in town. I must have passed it a hundred times and never noticed.

I thought about the three wolves. What made them kill? Uncle Bob said it was the thrill of the hunt. I thought they were insane. Rabid dogs.

A wave of nausea struck me. With a groan, I fell back on my bed, covered in sweat and chilled in spite of the midday heat. I needed to sleep, but something told me to ride past the Sunshine Motel instead. I hadn't promised I wouldn't go there, although I knew Brittany didn't want me to.

But I had to go. Someone had to stop the pack. I couldn't stand back and let them kill again. I would go to the motel. Not to confront them, just to let them know I was watching. Maybe they'd leave if they knew I was on to them.

I heard Uncle Bob clattering around in the kitchen. At the doorway, I said, "I'm going into town. Do you need me to pick up anything?"

"No, thanks." He looked at me. "You okay?"

"Just antsy. I have to get out for a while." I started to leave, but turned back. "You aren't like me. Sweating. Shaky."

"Over the years, I've become tolerant of the effects. I guess the body adapts. You should stop by Howard's. He has some tea that will calm your stomach."

Herbal tea with snake blood. I remembered. "Maybe I'll do that."

I went outside to my bike. The sun beat down in waves. Its glare was too bright. The racket of the birds was too loud. I flashed them a disgruntled look. Then I hopped on my bike and pedaled away as fast as I could. My thigh muscles burned. My blood surged. And for the first time I was glad Uncle Bob hadn't bought me a car. The bike was better. I needed the exercise.

It was shortly after three when I got to the Sunshine Motel. The building was yellow stucco with rusty sprinkler stains. Brown grass edged the front walkway, and scraggly hibiscus rimmed the parking lot. I leaned my bike against a light pole and crept forward for a better look.

The red Camaro was there.

At the uneven edge of asphalt, I stood and scratched my head. What could I use as a calling card to let them know I was there? My socks. I could tack them to the door. That would be funny.

Behind me, a voice said, "You looking to steal my car?"