no such thing as fate, that we could carve our own paths, that a name was nothing but a name.
He knew what I was thinking. He knew what was in my head and heart. He said, “A rose by any other name….”
I closed my eyes and dreamed of wolves running under the light of a full moon.
IT WENT LIKE THIS:
I was seven and Kelly said, “I want to be big like you.”
I was three and my father picked me up in his arms, holding me close.
I was ten and I chose my tether.
I was twelve and Joe sat on my shoulders wearing a wolf costume our mother had made for him because he wanted to be a wolf like me. We were walking through the woods, Kelly’s hand in mine, Joe tugging on my hair, saying, “Faster, Carter, go faster.”
I was four and Kelly took his first steps, reaching for me, always reaching.
I was eleven and the moon was calling me, it was singing, singing, singing, and my mother said, “Here, my son, here, let it wash over you, feel it calling. I won’t let it hurt you. I won’t let it take you away.”
I was sixteen and close to murdering boys in a bathroom at school who dared put their hands on Ox.
I was thirteen and Kelly shifted into a wolf for the first time, and we ran together as fast as we could, the earth beneath our paws, the wind in our fur.
I was twenty-three when a monster came to town and tore a hole in our heads and hearts. My father died before I could get to him. The last thing he ever said to me was “Protect your brothers with everything you have.”
I was twenty-seven, bursting out of a bar filled with humans, claws popping and fangs gnashing, and there was a wolf there, a timber wolf bigger than any I’d ever seen, and it came for me, it came for me, and the moment before we collided, the moment before its body struck mine, I smelled something unlike anything I’d ever known before.
And I burned.
waiting for you/say my name
It was dark.
I was cold and stiff. My neck had a crick in it, and my head was pounding. I groaned and rubbed a hand over my face, trying to clear my head. I pushed open the door to the truck and stumbled out. My knees were weak, and I almost fell. I caught myself on the door.
Before me was farmland. In the distance, set on a hill, was a house. The porch light was on, but the windows were dark. I walked away from the truck, my boots crunching against gravel. I unzipped my pants so I could empty my bladder. I sighed as I looked up at the sky, the stars like chips of ice.
Once I finished I went back to the truck, pulling my coat tighter around me. It was getting colder again. I didn’t know exactly where I was. I thought I’d crossed into North Dakota before finally pulling over to get some sleep. I’d gotten used to spending the night in the truck.
I shut the door behind me.
I was tired, but I knew I wouldn’t get any more sleep. The sun would rise soon, and I didn’t want to get caught here.
I glanced at the picture on the dashboard. The edges had started to curl. I left it alone.
I pulled my duffel bag across the seat. In the side pocket was a cheap phone, a burner I’d picked up before I left Green Creek. It was something Gordo had taught me when we’d been on the road after Richard Collins. I doubted he’d ever thought I’d have use for one again after we’d come back.
I hit the Power button, stretching my neck as I waited for it to turn on. I winced against the bright light in the dark. It was just after five in the morning.
I tried to ignore the date in the upper right corner, but it was almost impossible.
Saturday, November 6, 2021.
It’d been eleven months since I’d recorded a video in a house at the end of a lane.
And I had nothing to show for it.
I dropped the phone back in my bag before I crushed it in my hand.
After a moment’s hesitation, I reached over to the glove compartment and popped it open. I told myself I was being stupid, that I’d just looked at the contents the day before. They wouldn’t tell me anything new, and it