Chapter 21 #3
“Yer gettin’ all bent out of shape, and you haven’t even tried it out,” he said before pushing a loud switch on an old nineteen-inch CRT television that had been in our closet since we moved here.
It sat atop the dresser with aluminum foil capped rabbit ear antennas that weren’t actually hooked to anything.
They wouldn’t have worked anyway since the stations were digital now.
Next to it lay an ugly faux wood-paneled VCR and a stack of VHS tapes, their labels stained brown with writing in faded blue ink.
“This whole room needs to be doused in bleach.” I stared at the boxy television and shook my head. “Why do you even still have this?”
“Cause it’s comfy,” he said, setting his plate of food on one of the two foldable TV trays in front of the couch.
It was like our bedroom had become a portal into the past, though I wasn’t exactly sure what decade.
A red lava lamp bubbled away on our nightstand, and an Art Deco-styled three-tiered lamp with red, black, and green bulbs brightened the corner next to a few creased posters with tie-dye colors and peace signs.
“I knew you had the TV, but where were you keeping this other crap?”
“The shed,” he said, smiling. “You really don’t like it?”
“I hate it,” I muttered, setting my plate on the other TV table. “If you brought bugs and rats into this house—”
“Nah, I checked it all before bringing it in,” he said, popping in one of the VHS tapes. “Just some roaches, but a few bugs ain’t gonna kill us.”
I froze. “We just got rid of the roaches, and you brought more in?”
Roscoe’s ears folded downward. “I’ll get it clean tomorrow.”
The Last Starfighter theme song whined and warbled through the speaker as Roscoe adjusted the tracking. The faded, staticky picture of the standard definition screen cleared.
“Ever see this?” he asked.
“When I was a kid.” I hesitated to sit on the dirty sofa, but Roscoe plopped down and patted the space next to him.
“What day is it today?”
“Sunday,” I replied, checking the cushion thoroughly for any critters before sitting. “Why?”
“This’ll be our old movie night,” he said, squirting a packet of barbecue sauce onto a pile of pulled pork and brisket.
Once again, Roscoe’s disgusting antics took on a sweet sentimentalism.
My mood shifted from annoyance to comfortable and nostalgic as I leaned against him while watching the old television.
The opening credits of the movie faded, and I stared at Roscoe while he watched. He was genuinely happy at that moment.
“I promise I’ll clean it tomorrow,” he said, turning to me after catching me staring, his lips coated in grease and sauce.
“It’s gross, but… really sweet,” I said, leaning against him while biting down on a forkful of shredded meat.
The tip of Roscoe’s tail thudded into the space between us as he leaned in and kissed my cheek, leaving behind a thick, sticky mark.
After the movie, I got up and collected our trash before heading into the dining room to put away the leftovers. Austin sat alone on the living room sofa, blankly staring at the television.
“Where’s Adam?”
“The backyard,” he grunted, changing the channel.
“Did you talk to him?”
“Mmhmm.”
“And?”
Austin shrugged. “And he went outside. What else do you want me to say?”
I chewed on my lower lip and headed into the kitchen to throw the garbage away before sprinting to the back door.
Adam was already in a very temperamental state, but I wondered if Austin had managed to push a little too far.
If they had fought, Roscoe and I would have heard them from the bedroom, but there hadn’t been anything out of the ordinary.
The back door creaked open, and I stepped out into the cool, smokey air. Adam sat next to the lit fire pit, poking the flames with a stick.
“Uh oh,” I said, sitting next to him. “Are you angry with me?”
“Huh?” he looked up, tilting his head.
“Never mind. I thought you were upset.”
“No,” he replied. “It’s a pretty night, and I wanted to make a fire.”
“Okay…”
“Austin said he’d come out, but he never did.
” He shifted one of the flaming logs, letting it fall against another one, sending tiny orange embers fluttering through the air before they disappeared into the blackness.
“I wish I could make him do stuff like you can. Maybe I can convince Mosavi to let me in on this big secret.”
“What exactly did Austin tell you?”
“Not much. He wasn’t making sense, but apparently, you’re alpha now.” He flashed me a lascivious glance. “You’ve really changed since we got here.”
“Well, yeah. I’m getting hairier.”
“That’s not what I mean. You’re just… different.
I can’t explain it. You walk around like you own the world, and Roscoe and Austin do anything you say.
I’m the one that has to beg for attention now.
” He looked back up at me, and while he smiled, his eyes shimmered.
“It’s like you’re sucking away all the air in the room, and you’re not even trying. ”
I wanted to reply, but instead, I stared at the fire.
“Go ahead and brag now,” Adam snapped. “You’ve won.”
“This is my fault. I’ve been trying to push you guys closer together so that you both don’t move away after you turn.”
The furry half-turn’s face softened in the flickering glow.
“Wait. I thought you didn’t want us here? I thought you couldn’t wait to get us out of your hair, especially since I put you in an impossible situation without talking to you first.”
“I still stand by that, but I love having both of you here. You’re like family, and family can be annoying, but it’s hard to picture this place without you guys.”
“Then teach me,” Adam insisted.
“Teach you what?”
“If you don’t want Austin and me to leave each other, then teach me what you did to get him to listen to you.
Darryl can do the same thing but won’t let me in on the secret.
He said it’s none of my business, and that it was stupid of me to try.
He apologized for what he said when I went with Roscoe to visit him, but I still think about it, and it pisses me off. ”
“He probably told you that because forcing someone to obey you doesn’t exactly make for a healthy relationship.”
“And you think it’s healthy now?”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “Adam, I don’t understand what I did. Mosavi never explained it, and he’s kind of forcing me into doing things I don’t feel comfortable doing. I think his wife might be more helpful though.”
“Perfect,” he said, shooting up from the lawn chair. “Can you take me to her tomorrow?”
“I didn’t mean we should go asking her how to control werewolves.”
“Then I’m gone once I shift and the kuu breaks. There are a lot of werewolves out there that would love to have me—”
“As a half-turn, yes. Do you think you’ll have the same luck as a full werewolf?”
“Are you saying that werewolves aren’t interested in other werewolves?” He crossed his arms. “Because that’s bullshit.”
“I’m saying, I don’t know if you’re going to have the same mass appeal you do now. I don’t know enough about any of this, but I do know that turning Austin into a thrall isn’t going to make either of you happy.”
“He sure seems happy when he’s obeying you.”
“Is he really happy, or is that just some fucked-up side effect from what Mosavi did to him? I’m hoping this isn’t a permanent thing, and if it does wear off, I’m not doing it again.
Austin’s got a lot of problems.” I shook my head.
“I can’t force him to open up to you. He’s gotta make that choice, and he’ll only do it if he feels comfortable talking to you. ”
“So he feels more comfortable talking to you,” Adam muttered. “He tells you stuff he won’t tell me, and you still want us to be together?”
“You know why he tells me stuff? Because when he’s a traumatized mess, I don’t tell him to stop bumming me out.”
“Are you saying this is my fault?”
“Yes,” I snapped. “You don’t know how to listen to people. You just want everyone to listen to you. It’s the whole reason you want this shortcut. You don’t want to work on a relationship—you just want someone you can talk at while they do anything you tell them. Grow up, Adam.”
His eyes flashed. “How dare you.”
“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you, but I’m also not going to teach you how to fuck up Austin even more than he already is. You probably can’t do it anyways.”
Adam didn’t respond. He stomped toward the back door before nearly yanking it off its hinges. When he disappeared inside, he slammed it shut.
I sat back down on the lawn chair and slumped forward, staring at the fire.
It was time to stop playing counselor. They didn’t want to be together, and I seemed to be the only one invested in making their relationship work.
I just wanted a family so badly that I was willing to throw what was essentially a cat and dog into a small box, expecting them to learn to be friends.
I might not have been able to work with Adam, but I wouldn’t give up on Austin.