Chapter 19: Time Draws Near

I never intended to make John cry. In fact, I didn't think what I had said would make him cry at all. Why did it hit him so hard? I would have desired to ask him, but didn't want to cause a complete meltdown of a werewolf. I didn't know what would happen to a mentally troubled werewolf... and I wasn't going to take any chances.

“Don't worry, John. You aren't a monster!” I tried thinking of more words to say, but couldn't find any that were not risky, and were on the subject. “Uh... John, why don't you put on your clothes so we can head home.... I'm... uh... sorry that I upset you.”

“No, no. It's fine. I had to get that out.” John turned around and started walking back to the bush. “It was building up over time, and I guess, with all this stress it... hit its breaking point. Good thing it didn't last long.”

Either he was reading my mind, or he wanted to state his excuse for crying, I wasn't sure, but I was glad that he managed to pull himself together enough to put on his pants so I wouldn't have to stare at a clothes-less werewolf.

“So, that thought came to your mind a lot, then?”

“Well, of course it did! The entire prospect of it frightens me!” He came back out, fully clothed, but not yet human. “Yet, despite all the thoughts that frighten me, I have to suck it up.”

“But, it's a big psychological issue, isn't it? Is it really that easy to suck up? I mean, you just had a break down no more than a minute ago!”

John seemed to start shifting back to normal, as the fur started to recede into body... I thought. “It happens from time to time, Stewart. Even before this whole thing happened. Except, it was mainly for... uh... different reasons.” The way he said that, and how vague it was, made me realize he didn't want to disclose why he had breakdowns before.

“I'll not ask any more questions, then.” I looked away momentarily, spotting the car we drove in to get here.

“Alright then.... A-are you sure you don't want to give it a try? It would sure help to be able to talk to someone who experienced it as well.”

“I'd rather not, thanks.” I kept it simple. I didn't want to have to tell him that I wasn't looking forward to having the animal instincts of a predator inside of me, and that I was merely trying to delay the inevitable. Before we came here, it excited me, but after seeing how wolf-like John had been with those instincts while he ran around the forest, I did not want to try it at all. So, to avoid anymore pestering, I quickly turned around and walked to the car to say I was ready to go.

His response was delayed, but he finally spoke. “Alright then... Stewart.” His voice sounded acidic. Clearly that wasn't the answer he wanted to hear.

I got into the car, waiting for John to do so as well. He seemed to come over, grudgingly. It's as if his entire day went from a happy, upbeat day to a disaster because of one little thing I brought up. Was the subject really that touchy for him?

I was thrown out of my thoughts when I heard the passenger door slam shut. John was inside now, staring out the window to his right, to avoid eye contact.

I started the car, and drove away from the forest, feeling a little uneasy to have John be so annoyed at me. I wanted to try and cheer up the mood, but telling a joke would be an odd way to do it.

“So, uh, John.... What did the squirrel taste like?” I wanted to slap a palm to my forehead. The last thing I wanted was to talk about something he was already sour about.

To my expectations, he stayed quiet, obviously trying to ignore me.

I knew I couldn't change the subject now, it would make me seem desperate, but I knew he already knew what I was trying to do. He was really good at picking up on those things.

“I've heard people say they taste like chicken... hehe.” I already knew he wasn't going to reply, so why did I keep trying? “Oh, come on, John! Talk to me! I'm sure this will all be water under the bridge by the time we get home!” I saw his eye's move in the right mirror. “I can understand that you're upset that I won't... uh... try that 'animalistic' thing that you mentioned, but, in my defense, I don't think there is anything I could learn from the aspects of a cheetah... especially when we're nowhere near Africa.”

John stayed silent, despite my excuse.

“Just say something to me! I thought we were friends! I don't want us to be ig-”

“Stop the car.” He looked at me as he said this, eyes narrowed.

“Are you seriously thinking about walking home while still a long way from home? Yeah right! I'm gonna drive you home so we can be friends...”

“Stop the car, Stewart.” His voice was a little more angry this time.

“Not until you quit treating me like some sort of bad guy!”

“Just stop the car... BEFORE I jump out the car myself!”

I didn't want him to do that, and from the way he sounded, it looked like he was going to do it.... The look in his eye helped me realize he was earnest. So, feeling I couldn't do anything else, I pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned it off.

The moment we had gotten to a complete stop, John opened the door and rushed out into the ever-thinning forest. I stared after him in disbelief. He was willing to go so far as to get away from me? Couldn't he have given me another chance before doing this...?

I was about to start the car again. I turned my head toward the key-slot and started  turn the keys... but something out of the corner of my eye stopped me. Giving a quick glimpse over my shoulder, I saw John, still running into the forest, but he was running after something.

Through the flurry of movement, I could make out a grey figure, running on all fours, with the same wolfish tail as John's werewolf form, and similar features to his werewolf form.

I wasn't sure if I was imagining things or not, but, with the things that had happened so far in the past few days, I doubted I was imagining anything, which could only leave me to one conclusion....

I got out of the car, and ran after John, panic rising.