Where Have All The Werewolves Gone?

Mumster Goes to Town Hall

"You be good," Mumster says. She's getting ready to leave.

"Sure."

She doesn't quite seem to believe me. Frankly, I find that offensive.

"What do you think I'll do? It's not a full moon. I'll do my homework, brush my teeth and go to bed."

I'm lying, of course. I'm gonna watch TV and definitively skip on the teeth brushing. But that's normal, and nothing for her to worry about.

"I will check," she says with a finger lifted in the air.

I make a mental note to moisten my toothbrush before she comes home, and smile at her as innocently as I can. One time I light firecrackers in the school hall, and she brands me as a bad boy. It's not fair.

It had been the first time she screamed at me. Usually, the Mumster is rather on the stoic side. But with the firecrackers, she had been all, How could you? and With the way things are, you're making it worse?! She had left me no choice but to fall back to the half-truth of peer pressure and, with me being a werewolf, it being hard enough to make friends as it was. She should have come back at me with the classic, and if your friends jump off the bridge, will you do the same? Instead, her face had gone slack and her eyes distant, almost as if trying not to cry. "I know, Ferris," she had said. "But you have to be more careful. For both our sakes," and I had wished she had seen through me. I didn't even get grounded.

Of course, I would do anything for Mumster. And I couldn't understand what the fuss was about with the firecrackers. Obviously, none of the other boys know what it feels like to run through the woods during the first snow, when the animals haven't yet gotten used to hiding, and you can pick them off like low-hanging fruit.

Mumster hates the town meetings, but she goes religiously. I know my name comes up. I know they make it hard for her. Talking about the sheep, and the damages, and just the general danger and creepiness of my presence.

Our town sucks. I'd like to move, but Mumster says this is our home, and nobody is kicking us out. One time, when I really wouldn't let it go, because the kids in school had pulled down my pants to see if I had fur, she'd asked if I really expected things would be different somewhere else. Mumster is nothing if not pragmatic, you gotta give her that.

"Have fun," I say.

I don't really mind what people think about me. I know they are scared of me. I'm sure it would be easier if I wasn't the only werewolf around. Mumster says people are afraid of what they don't know. So, there seems to be an easy solution to the problem, but nobody seems particularly eager to get to know me.

During the daytime, or when the moon is small, I'm just a normal boy. Maybe slightly big for my age, but I'm not even the tallest in my class. That's Pete, and he's three months younger than me. And Jordan is so fat, if he sat on you, he'd leave a dent. I'd be more afraid of them, but nobody is, though sometimes the other kids make fun of Jordan. Sometimes I do too, but Mumster says I of all people shouldn't, so I try not to, and I shouldn't have said that thing about Jordan sitting on people.

And while people tend to look at me strange, their dogs love me, which makes up for a lot. When they see me, first they stand stock-still and then, there is something like a smile on their faces. They want to play with me, roll around and mock-fight me.

I want a dog. Mumster says no way.

In the end, I do my homework just like I said. Thinking about dogs has gotten me down. Or I just want to make Mumster happy when she gets home. I brush my teeth for as long as the sand takes to trickle down the hourglass, even though I hate brushing my teeth.

When the front door opens, I turn off the light and hide my comic book under the mattress. It's not one of those Mumster buys me, they are all about self-acceptance and doing the right thing, and are super boring. I like the ones that are violent and fun.

Even through closed eyes, I sense her standing at my bedroom door. I turn on the light and act sleepy.

"Mumster?"

"I just got in. Were you sleeping?"

I make a sound that could mean either.

"How was the meeting?"

There is a slight hesitation before she answers that tells me she is going to lie.

"It was fine, sweetheart. Go back to sleep."

It was not fine.

"Okay," I say. "Good night, Mumster."