*The following is an excerpt from a Teen/YA fiction novel titled Homecoming, about a family of werewolves that live in Southern Wisconsin. The book’s intended release date is Fall 2018! Stay tuned for more details!*
In the middle of a distant forest, a log house stood idle. The chimney smoke filled the summer air with the remaining scents of the evening’s pot roast dinner. Three children laid upstairs in their perspective beds. The youngest boy curled himself into a tight ball, holding onto his superhero action figure as he slept. The oldest twisted himself in his sheets and tossed and turned, snoring and grumbling the night away. Across the hall, however, the middle child lay awake. Her blue eyes stared up at the illuminating stars on the ceiling, yet her mind was blank.
Mom and Dad would certainly be upset if they found her awake, but she had heard something strange. There were loads of strange sounds from outside on any given day, but this one was different. It sounded like her father.
“Urgh!”
There it was again. It came from downstairs. The girl wasn’t sure how she knew that, but she just did. She always seemed to know where the sounds and smells were coming from. Her best friends thought she was odd for knowing these things, but to her, it was what she’d always known.
As quiet as a mouse, the little girl slipped out from under her covers. Her toes scrunched into the tan carpet underneath her feet. She pushed her covers away and moved towards the door.
Creeeeaaaaaak.
She stopped, moving the door even slower. The last thing she wanted was to wake her parents. Dad always had work early in the morning at the vet clinic, and Mom was always complaining that she never had enough sleep.
Tiptoeing down the stairs, the sound grew louder and louder. The house was eerily dark and silent. Usually, the kids were bouncing around the house, throwing balls or tossing themselves over the giant black couch that stood in the living room. Mom was always in the kitchen and Dad was always rushing around, doing work around the house and outside at his work shed. The only light in the room came from the sky light in the center, where the full moon shone brighter than all the stars in the sky combined. It lit the path to the kitchen.
“It’s not…time,” the raspy voice said from the far end of the kitchen. The girl’s stomach twisted up. Maybe this wasn’t something she should go see on her own. Her parents always warned her from going to see trouble or dangerous things. They would definitely ground her if things ended poorly, or if she got herself injured for this.
She fumbled for the one item in the kitchen that was still out: Mom’s small pan she used to cook eggs for breakfast. The girl’s small hands gripped the handle as much as she could. Outside, the one patio light showed her the source of the sound.
Behind a trash can, a man crouched down to the grass. At least, it looked like a man. He was shirtless. He had the same messy dark hair that Dad had, but he was hairier. His back was arched up so much it looked like his body was trying to touch the tree branches above. The man kept on groaning. He was in pain.
“Ahhhhh,” the man grunted and twisted his body. His head turned around to the patio glass door. The girl knew that face. The aging lines, the wide nose, and the one tooth that was just a little too far forward from the rest.
She unlocked the patio door and stepped outside. Her dad stared at her and didn’t say a single word.
“Arabella,” Dad breathed out. “Why are you awake?” Dad winced, hiding his head and shutting his eyes. Arabella dropped the pan to the patio floor and rushed down the steps to her dad.
“What’s wrong, Daddy?” She put a hand to his back but pulled away quickly. His skin was hotter than the kitchen sink water. She cried out and held her hand to her chest. When she looked up to her Dad, her eyes grew to the size of softballs.
The hair all over her father lengthened. Dad grunted and groaned as his body twisted and curved itself into an entirely new shape. This had to be a dream. Mom and Dad always said fairytales and monsters didn’t exist. They squashed that and the Santa Claus bug before any of them entered the third grade.
Seconds later, Arabella’s dad was gone. In its place, a wolf with dark hair and vivid gold eyes looked back to her. The wolf’s ears pinned down and looked away from her, whining. Footsteps approached Arabella from inside.
“Arie! What on earth are you doing awake?” Mom asked from the door frame. Arabella turned around, pointing to where the wolf stood.
“Momma, what’s going on?” She asked. She glanced back to the patio steps, but the wolf was gone. He had vanished. All that was left was a pile of clothes and Dad’s beat up New Balance sneakers. Arms scooped Arabella up off the floor. The metal of the pan screeched against the wood flooring as Mom retrieved it.
“It’s okay, darling. Don’t worry,” Mom said as if she had rehearsed it. Arabella’s arms gripped her mother tightly, but her eyes remained outside to the forest. The wolf was gone. Her dad was the wolf. But how was that possible? It didn’t make any sense!
“Is Dad a werewolf? Just like all those movies and stories?” Arabella questioned her mother. The excitement left her mouth with each word. Her mother just looked at her with worry in her eyes. They returned to her bedroom. Mom flicked on the light and sat her down on her bed, tucking her in. She never answered the question.
“I love you, my darling,” Mom pressed her lips to Arabella’s forehead. She rubbed a hand down the back of her hair, pressing the waves down. Then, she took her hand under her chin. “When Dad comes back, we’ll explain everything in the morning. Okay?”
“Okay,” Arabella nodded from her head, kneading her head into her pillow each time. Mom squeezed her hand, scanning Arabella’s face one last time. Then, she stood up, shut off the light, and closed the door quietly.
When she was alone, Arabella sat up straight away. She removed herself from her bed and rushed over to the balcony. There wasn’t much of a view of the forest, other than the hundred year old oak and pine trees that seemed to barricade the house in from the nature around them. Arabella’s eyes searched the forest. Dad couldn’t have gone far.
Off to the right after a minute or so of searching, Arabella stopped. Her heartbeat skipped when she finally saw it. Between two trees that stood about fifty feet from their patio, the wolf stood on all fours. His gold eyes stared at her. The wolf cocked its head to the side, raising it to the sky. A low howl erupted into the clean air. The sound made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Goosebumps tickled their way across Arabella’s skin. The wolf’s head moved down again, taking one last look at her. Then, after one final nod, her father turned and ran away from the house, guided by the light of the moon and the swaying of the summer breeze rocking the trees.
Arabella hurried back to her bed, a smile unable to remove itself from her face. She cuddled under the covers, shutting her eyes. One image, one truth was on repeat in her dreams that night: her father was a werewolf.
