I
I am
wolf
i am wolf
forest i can smell the
forest and it’s you and it’s me
run GavinMateLove run with me
run
hunt
feel the moon
feel it pull
it’s ours all of this is ours
because we are
we are the goddamn bennett pack
and our song
our song
will
always
be
heard
TO JOE’S FUTURE
Hello, Ox—
Today is a good day, as good as any to put my thoughts down into words. But before I say what I need to say about my son Joe, I need to tell you a story. Please forgive a father for his meandering thoughts. I am finding this harder than I expected it to be.
I wrote you a letter once.
Oh, not you specifically. It was meant for the idea of you, the one who Joe would choose to love, would choose to spend his life with. I have done the same for Carter and Kelly, though theirs will be less specific as I don’t know what the future holds for them. The letter I wrote originally for whoever you would be now seems… lacking. And that simply will not do.
I am writing this second letter because I know you now.
You are eighteen years old today. Soon, you and Carter will be graduating high school and beginning the next stage of your life. And soon I will travel to Caswell to store this letter with the others I’ve written for Carter and Kelly’s future until there comes a day—far from now—when it will be time for my words to be read. It seems as safe a place as any and is strangely fitting with all Joe will become.
I worry about that.
I worry that I haven’t been the best father I could be to him.
Expectation has a weight to it, heavy and cumbersome.
Joe, as you are aware, will be Alpha. I remember what that was like for me, being told by my father at a very young age who I would become and what it would mean for me. For my family. For all the wolves. While I know this is the way of things, I can’t help but think I’d take this burden from him if I could. The mark of a good parent is that they always want the best for their children, putting their needs above all others. Am I doing the right thing? I wrestle with that thought constantly. Lizzie says I underestimate him. She may be right. She usually is.
Still….
There are days when I wonder if this life, this purpose, is something Joe truly wants. He says he does, but I think it’s because I’m his father and he wants to make me proud. Does he know I would be proud of him regardless? I hope so. I tell him as much as often as I can, as I do my other sons.
Here is what I know about Joe:
He was born, and I was terrified. I didn’t know how it was possible for me to make more room in my heart for him. I thought I’d have to lose the parts meant for Carter and Kelly, especially when we realized that Joe was different than his brothers. I needn’t have worried, not about that at least. There was, much to my surprise and joy, more than enough room for him. He carved himself a place within me, tucked neatly between my wife, my brother, and Carter and Kelly.
He didn’t cry when I held him for the first time.
(Lizzie will tell you I was frantic about it; I could scoff and tell you I most certainly wasn’t, but that would be a lie.)
He watched me with those big eyes of his.
And I was lost to him.
As you know, he was taken from us.
I blame myself for that. I was blinded by the belief that I could see the good in the people I chose to surround myself with. People I trusted. That was a mistake, and not my first, nor my last.
I cannot begin to describe the terror that filled those weeks. It would take a much greater man than I to ever put all those feelings into words, so I will say the bare minimum. The man who dared to touch my son deserves no more than that.
Joe was returned to us, and he was a shell of who he used to be.
I tried everything: begging, crying, shouting, holding him, loving him, whispering little things into his ear. Nothing worked.
As a last-ditch effort, I gave up all that I’d worked for.
It was the easiest decision I’ve ever made.
We returned to Green Creek, the home I’d loved and