A Hunt to Remember
Wolves have been known to steal food but they are shy of humans and will run if cornered rather then attack.
“Hey kid wake up,” said LB. He looked excited. “Did you sleep well?” “Uh yeah”, and it was the truth as I hadn’t had that dream again.
“Good we’re going hunting.” He jumped off my bed, and by the time he had hit the floor he had turned into a wolf.
“Hunting? I don’t think I can,” I stammered.
“Don’t worry kid; we’re not going to kill anything on your first day. We won’t have to where we’re going. Now turn yourself into a wolf and let’s go”, said LB.
‘I don’t think I can,” I said. “Yesterday was kind of a fluke”.
“Oh really,” he said looking sheepish. “Then what are you now?” I looked down and just like yesterday I was a wolf again.
“When did that happen?” I asked.
“Last night when you were sleeping. That happens a lot during puberty along with other things”.
“Uh yeah,” I said wanting to change the subject. I didn’t want to talk about puberty. That was awkward enough when they did it in gym class. I jumped off the bed the same way LB did but landed on my stomach.
“Shhhh. We don’t want to wake the rest,” said LB. I looked over at Lefty and Red. Lefty was eyeing me but Red was still asleep and oblivious. I followed LB out of the house slowly and aside from tripping two times we got out quietly.
“Where are we going?’ I asked.
“You’ll see. If you’re going to be a werewolf you need to learn how to survive.” We went far into the woods, and LB shouted, “Come on let’s run.”
“Run, as wolves?” I asked.
“No. Heffalumps and Woozles! Of course as wolves.”
“I’ll try, but I’m not used to having four legs.”
“You were running fine as a wolf last night.”
“Why do you think that fat security guard had to get in his car to chase you? Although it didn’t look like he could run that far in the first place. That guy looked like he was a phone call away from calling Jenny Craig. You should have seen him wobble away when he saw us. I even heard him cry out Mommy.”
“Really?” I had to giggle at that thought; I thought that was something people only did on TV.
After running in the woods closely behind LB for about ten minutes we came to what looked like a Unabomber shack. It turns out it was a smokehouse. “This is where we get our meat,” said LB stomping low on all four legs practically dragging his belly across the dirt.
“Really?” I said in a low voice.
“Well it’s where I get mine,” said LB. “Raven buys his at the store,” he said that part very sarcastically and I saw him rolling his eyes. I wondered if I should point out this was stealing, but I didn’t want to make him mad. I had a hard enough time getting people to like me, just ask Nun Moe. Of course Nun Moe was a part of the problem of why I had a hard time getting people to like me. LB found the door, put his nose against it and pushed until it opened. Apparently whoever owned this cabin didn’t believe in locks. We both walked slowly in then suddenly LB stopped. Since I had been following him literally right behind, guess what I bumped into?
“Hey kid,” said LB, not the least bit disgusted that I’d just touched his butt with my face. “Look up. You’ll see other things to look at besides my butt.” So I did, more embarrassed than ever. That’s when I saw the shack was completely full of meat; you couldn’t even see the walls it was so covered, unless the walls were just painted a flesh red color. I guess I could see how whoever owned this wouldn’t miss anything. I was so busy looking up I accidentally bumped into a side of beef. LB laughed,
“Boy you’re just bumping into everything today”. LB grabbed some sausages hanging up with his mouth, yanked them down with great ease, and proceeded to walk out. Then he turned to me and said “mrab komsthing” which I’m sure meant “Grab something!” Does everyone talk with their mouth full? I thought this to myself as I decided to take some sausages too. They looked like the easiest thing to pull down. I didn’t know how I would carry the larger pieces hanging up, so I jumped up and grabbed a thing of sausages just like LB did. But they didn’t come down as easy as when LB grabbed them.
I was just hanging there like a Christmas ornament.
I pulled and pulled. I let go and jumped up and grabbed from a higher point; now my two back feet were dangling off the floor. I could hear LB giggle, I didn’t even know wolves could giggle. He didn’t seem to be making any effort to help me. I started to hear creaking sounds that freaked me out like I might actually bring the roof down. So I gnawed at one of the sausage ends and suddenly I fell down with it landing hard on the ground. But it only hurt for a second or two and both LB and I walked out.
“See, you don’t have to kill anything; these sausages were already made for us,” said LB smiling. I doubted they had been made for us in mind, but I was relieved I didn’t have to kill any animles to eat. Suddenly I heard someone cursing so loud that I almost swallow my sausages whole.
“Who’s out there?” screamed a very pissed off voice.
“Run kid,” said LB dropping the sausages running like a bat out of ...“h-e- double hockey sticks”, I never was good at cursing even in my own mind. That’s what happens when you grow up with nuns. I was frozen like a deer in headlights. I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly a very big bald man with a mustache came out waving a very big gun. Not again. That got me moving. Both LB and I ran all the way home. When we got to the cabin LB turned around to look at me and said,
“Hey all right kid! You kept your sausages”.
“Huh?” I realized I had never dropped my sausages the whole time I had been running.
“You can keep the one in your mouth but can I have the ones that were dragging on the ground? I think that gives them more flavor and people don’t tend to fight me for them,” LB asked and his mouth was already watering.
“Uh. Sure.” I replied breaking off the end that wasn’t in my mouth and giving it to him. “Congratulations kid, you successfully completed your first hunting trip,” LB said and then he stuck the sausages in his mouth and ate them all raw. I suddenly understood what the expression “wolfed it down” meant. “Don’t worry, our bodies can handle it raw kid.”
“Wasn’t that technically stealing?” I blurted out. “Naw. That butcher is always ripping people off, sticking his thumb on the scale and adding wrong when it comes to prices. He makes people pay three dollars extra for that fat @#%&** thumb of his and you don’t even get to keep it. Not that you’d want to eat a thumb in the first place. Though I heard about a guy who found a thumb in his chili at Wendy’s and got about five thousand dollars”, added LB. “ Anyway for our next hunting trip I’ll show you how to go after some fresh kill”. “Fresh kill?” I repeated worriedly.
“Relax it will have already died of natural causes, probably some good road kill”, he answered.
“Road kill?” I asked nervously. “Just think of it as mystery meat, he told me. I didn’t feel like eating now. But the sausages I had in my mouth tasted pretty good raw or not. So maybe road kill wouldn’t be that bad. I could always close my eyes and tell myself it was just rare meatloaf.