Protected

Secrets: Part 2

Lucky for me, our first day of school was on a Friday. So, after one exhausting day of school, we got a weekend!

I let Riley and Farkle sleep in, but I was up just before the sun was.

I ate cereal that Farkle so kindly picked up from the store, and then I paced in my bedroom until Riley woke. Back and forth. Back and forth. 

Farkle, being Farkle, stopped by the library on his way to the grocery store. So he knew exactly where it was.

Our plan was just to go to the library and ask for great-great-Mr-Funicello (because that was Crystal's last name. Then, we would say we were friends with Crystal, and that we were researching local families for a project. Hopefully, he tells us what we need to know. Whatever that is.

Finally, at around ten o'clock, Riley got up. I dragged her and Farkle out to the car before they were even fully awake. Farkle drove, since he was the one who knew where the library was.

It only took a little over three minutes to get to the library. We went into the big white-brick building. Farkle busied himself looking at a collection of fossils, while Riley started to follow me up the stairs.

"Wait," I said, "Riles, can you stay down here?"

She looked shocked, "But, I thought we were going to find this out together?"

I felt bad. I chewed on my lip, "It's just... I feel like I'm about to find something huge. I don't know... I may be wrong, but, I just feel like this is something I have to do alone."

She nodded, understanding, "Okay, Maya. Whatever you need."

She went to look at fossils with Farkle.

I took a deep breath and climbed the stairs. 

Upstairs, it was much different. The whole room was wood-paneled: the floor, the walls, and the ceiling. There was a fireplace, just like the one in my room, in the corner of the room. A big grizzly-bear skin rug was rolled across the floor in front of the fireplace, and a few tan colored squashy armchairs surrounded it.

An old man sat in one of the chairs. He looked like a tiny shriveled raisin. His eyes were droopy and watery, and he had liver spots sprinkled across his tiny face.

I tip-toed over to the armchair.

"Excuse me?" I said.

The man jolted awake, "Eh? Who are you?" he asked, "Crystal? Is that you? Come into the firelight."

He had a strong country accent that told me he had been in this town for a very, very long time.

"No, sir, I'm not Crystal. My name is Maya. I'm friends with Crystal," I said, stepping in front of the fire, "Do you mind if I sit down? I was hoping to talk to you."

He waved his hand to the armchair across from him, "Go ahead then. Sit down." 

I sat down, clasping my hands in my lap.

"Go ahead, then. What was it you wanted to ask me?" he asked.

"Well..." I began to tell him the lie we made up. But, I had a feeling he would tell me what he knew either way. So, I decided to tell him the real reason I was here, "There's this kid. At my school. He's very strange. I know he has a secret. And, well, I was wondering if you could tell me anything about his family," I said.

"Which family is it? I know all of the ones around here," he said.

"The Friars," I said, remembering history class.

He gasped, clutching the arm of his chair.

I jumped up, "Sir? Sir? Are you okay?" I cried.

"Dear!" he hollered, "The Friars! They have a secret! A terrible secret! But, for me to tell you, it would be dangerous for you! Very dangerous!"

"It's okay, sir. I want to know," I assured him, but I didn't feel very assured myself.

He rubbed his whiskery chin in thought, "Very well, then," he finally said.

He got out of his chair and banked the fire. Then, he lit a candle on the table in front of us. It was a six-wick candle, so it cast candlelight spookily across his face.

"The Friars, the Friars. Where do I begin? They've been in this town for a long, long time. They came right after the founders. Tid-bit of town history for you: when we first got here, the woods were overrun with wolves! Terrible, nasty, bitey things they were! We went through, pitchforked 'em all through their mangy hearts!" he made a swift, violent stabbing motion, and the candlelight danced across his face, "One day, they say great-great-great-great-great-grandpappy Friar went into the woods for a wolf hunt by himself. He disappeared into the wolves for a good week. Everyone thought e'd been killed, as we so often were in the days of the wolf hunts. But then, he came stumbling back out of the woods a week later. He was... strange. Some say he went crazy in those woods. Very few know the truth," he leaned forward in his chair, "Then the killings started. Once a night, for a month. Then more. Twice a night, for a month. Then more. Twice a night, plus one every day He got more bold. Started huntin' only during the day. More and more people died. There's been one in every generation. Some killed. Some didn't. We can just hope this new Friar boy... Lucas, I think his name is. We can only hope he isn't a killer."

"What exactly is he?" I finally asked, dread gripping my heart.

"Some call 'em wolf-men, or wolf-child. Lycanthropes. Wolf-beast, or wolf-brute," he said.

My stomach sank.

"Werewolf."

I jumped up.

"Thank you, sir, thank you very much. I learned what I needed."

And with that, I sprinted away.