Werewolf Skin

3

“Calm down, Colin,” Aunt Marta told my uncle. “Alex isn’t going over there.”

She turned to me. “The Marlings live in that house,” she said, lowering her voice to a whisper. She raised a finger to her lips. “No more questions-okay?”

“Just stay away from there,” Uncle Colin growled. “Come help me unload the car.”

I took one last glance at the run-down wreck of a house. Then I trotted over to help my uncle.

It didn’t take long to unpack. Aunt Marta helped me in the guest room while Uncle Colin made us turkey sandwiches in the kitchen.

My room was small and narrow, about the size of my closet back home. The tiny closet smelled of mothballs. But Aunt Marta said the odor would go away if we left the closet door and the window open.

I crossed the tiny room to open the window. And saw that it faced the Marlings’ house next door. A rusted wheelbarrow tilted against the Marlings’ side wall. The windows were dark and coated with dust.

I squinted into the window across from mine-and thought about Uncle Colin’s shouted warning.

Why was he so worried about the Marlings?

I raised the window and turned back to my aunt. She tucked the last of my T-shirts into the top dresser drawer. “The room is small. But I think you’ll be cozy here, Alex,” she said. “And I cleared all the junk off the desktop so you’ll have a place to do homework.”

“Homework?” I uttered.

Then I remembered. I’d promised to go to the local school for the weeks I stayed in Wolf Creek.

“Hannah will take you to school Monday morning,” Aunt Marta promised. “She is in sixth grade too. She’ll show you around.”

I didn’t want to think about going to a strange school. I picked up my camera. “I can’t wait to get into the woods and take some shots,” I told my aunt.

“Why don’t you go after lunch?” she suggested. Straightening her gray hair, she led the way through the short hall to the kitchen.

“All moved in?” Uncle Colin asked. He was pouring orange juice into three glasses. The sandwiches were set out on the small, round kitchen table.

Before I could answer him, we heard a hard knock on the back door. Aunt Marta opened it, and a girl about my age walked in. Hannah.

Hannah was tall and thin, an inch or two taller than me. Aunt Marta was right. Hannah was kind of cute. She had straight black hair, olive-green eyes, and a nice smile. She wore a big green sweater pulled down over black tights.

Aunt Marta introduced us. We both said, “Hi.”

I hate meeting new people. It’s always so awkward.

Aunt Marta asked Hannah if she’d like a turkey sandwich. “No, thanks,” Hannah replied. “I already ate lunch.”

I liked her voice. It was real low and husky. Kind of hoarse.

“Alex just arrived on the bus,” Aunt Marta told her. “That’s why we’re having such a late lunch.”

I gobbled my sandwich down in a few seconds. I guess I didn’t realize how hungry I was.

“Hannah, why don’t you and Alex do some exploring in the woods?” Uncle Colin suggested. “He’s a city kid. You’ll have to show him what a tree is!”

Everyone laughed.

“I’ve seen lots of them in movies!” I joked.

Hannah had a great, husky laugh.

“I want to take a million photos,” I told her, grabbing my camera case.

“You’re into photography?” Hannah asked. “Just like your aunt and uncle?”

I nodded.

“I hope you have color film,” Hannah said. “The fall leaves are really awesome now.”

We said good-bye to Uncle Colin and Aunt Marta and headed out the front door. A red afternoon sun was sinking behind the trees. It made our shadows stretch long and skinny over the grass.

“Hey-you’re stepping on my shadow!” Hannah protested, grinning. She swung her leg to make her shadow kick my shadow.

“Ow!” I cried. I swung my fist, and my shadow slugged her shadow.

We had a good shadow fight, punching and kicking. Finally, she stomped on my shadow with both of her sneakers. And I dropped to the ground, making my shadow slump over the grass in a dead faint.

As I sat up, Hannah had her head tossed back, laughing. Her straight black hair blew wildly around her face.

I pulled my camera from the case and quickly snapped a photo of her.

She stopped laughing. And straightened her hair with both hands. “Hey-why did you do that?”

I shrugged. “Just wanted to.”

I climbed to my feet and raised the camera to my eye. I turned and pointed it toward the Marlings’ house next door. I took a few steps toward the house, trying to frame it in my viewfinder.

“Hey-!” I cried out as Hannah grabbed my arm.

“Alex-don’t take a picture!” she warned in a throaty whisper. “They’ll see you!”

“So what?” I shot back. But I felt a shiver as I saw something move in the dark front window.

Was someone staring out at us?

I lowered my camera.

“Come on, Alex.” Hannah tugged me toward the back. “Are we going into the woods or not?”

I squinted up at the Marlings’ house. “Why was my uncle so upset when I asked about that house?” I asked Hannah. “What’s the big deal?”

“I don’t really know,” she replied, dropping my arm. “The Marlings are supposed to be a weird old couple. I’ve never seen them. But… I’ve heard stories about them.”

“What kind of stories?” I demanded.

“Frightening stories,” she whispered.

“No. Really. What kind of stories?” I insisted.

She didn’t answer. Her olive-green eyes narrowed at the broken porch, the faded, stained shingles. “Let’s just stay away from there, Alex.”

She started jogging along the side of the house toward the backyard. But I didn’t follow her. I crossed the driveway and stepped into the tall weeds of the Marlings’ front yard.

“Alex-stop! Where are you going?” Hannah called.

Holding my camera at my waist, I made my way quickly up to the house. “I’m a city kid,” I told Hannah. “I don’t scare easily.”

“Alex, please-” Hannah pleaded. “The Marlings don’t like kids. They don’t like anyone coming up to their house. Please. Let’s go to the woods.”

I stepped up carefully onto the rotting floorboards of the front porch. I raised my eyes to the front window.

The reflection of the setting, red sun filled the glass. For a moment, it appeared that the window was on fire.

I had to look away.

Then, as the sunlight faded from the window-pane, I turned back-and gasped.

Inside the house, the window curtains were slashed and torn.

As if some kind of animal had clawed them, clawed them to shreds.