Chapter 1: Echo Dibrom and Company
The name is Dibrom—Echo Dibrom. I don’t know I just love the way James Bond says his name like that. I really do. I’m your average teenage boy living in my own inferno-like high school. Oh my god, let’s face it. You thought I was going to go into a long, drawn out teen angst saga. Didn’t you? Well, lucky you, you’re in for a hell of a treat. But I admit that would have been my lame story a year ago. Hello, no matter what people say, our age group isn’t just filled with the clique “drama queens and kings”!
Anyways, whether or not you want me to, I’m going to shove my story down your throats (or into your eyes more like it). So, you—yea you—don’t you dare put this book down. I mean it. Everyone needs to know that though they may have it pretty darn bad, someone out there has it a million times worse. Here’s some insane stuff that rocked my world last year—my damn junior year of high school:
My dad had landed some godforsaken job teaching in Wisconsin the month before all high schools were supposed to begin their treacherous cycle. Who in their right mind ever moves from New York City to Wisconsin anyways? He literally packed up the whole apartment—with my family still in it—and shoved it into a ridiculously large moving truck. I could have lived in that thing! I really could have. To tell you the truth, I didn’t really mind the move. As a seventeen-year-old reclusive nerd, I thought a change in location could do me nothing but good. Haha, yes, I bet you’ve formed a classic geek image in your narrow-minded head by now. When it comes down to it, I can be quite drop dead handsome—no joke intended. I’m just a bit of an introvert. You’ll see. They all do. Wow! I’m conceited and I have ADD. Brilliant! Where was I? Oh yea.
My mother and sixteen-year-old sister, Brittany, were a little too morbid about the move. Now, they were true drama queens. Being very popular people and all, they were ridiculously attached to our lifestyle in New York. I got so annoyed with both of them crying, “But…but… but…what about all our friends?” As I said, I could have cared less. I wasn’t really losing anyone. Actually, I was hoping to leave behind the current me in New York. Boy, oh boy, are people right when they say, “Be careful what you wish for.” Maybe those old proverbs people never believe in actually have some depth behind them. It’s just a thought. Both, my mom and sis were pouring their eyes out (or doing a heck of a job acting) as we boarded our flight to Wisconsin. That state morphed my life. It literally did. You’ll see. I promise.
As we grazed across the sky, I looked out of the tiny windowpane next to my seat and thought about my family. The thing about it was that everyone in it was so damn congenial and outspoken. Sometimes, I liked to pretend I was adopted. That helped me cope with the differences more. My sister, Brittany, was at the top of the food chain, while I was far below the bottom. The only reason I had never gotten beat up in New York was that all of my personal bullies had at one time or another dated my sis. She dumped guys (never vice versa) and they always wanted her back. So, in order to stay on her good side, they decided not to punch my gut, spleen, and etc. out of me. Thanks guys! You’re such gentlemen.
My mother was simply an older version of my sister. She was a traveling makeup saleswoman and most definitely knew how to talk the talk and walk the walk. Throughout the whole country, she had to know someone in some out-of-the-world nook and cranny. Her whole career was based on her personality. That really annoyed me at times. It really did. I mean wasn’t success supposed to be based on merit or something. Blah, who was I kidding. Success had always been nothing more than a popularity contest. Who’s left? Oh yea—my father. He was a real character I’ll tell you. He was a physics professor. You’d think he’d be at least a bit geekish, but no he had to be this amazing, funny guy that had all these surreal stories to tell. That’s my father—everyone’s favorite teacher. No matter how bad a situation was he was always able to take it in such a light manner. I doubt he ever had a panic attack. He had the power of laughter. I swear he did.
So, you’re probably wondering how I fit into this picture perfect family. The thing is, I didn’t. I had no friends, let alone girlfriends. I was far too shy for my own good. With such isolation lurking at my footsteps, I had nothing better to do than shove some knowledge into that thing called a brain. I became a compulsive reader, earned some good grades (damn reading does work), and thus, got labeled a nerd. There went any prospect of a social life. My family really tried though. They put me in some extremely embarrassing self-confidence class ran by some dude named Mr. Crucifier. OK, OK, that really wasn’t his last name, but it darn should have been. I completely failed that course and about three thousand dollars of my parent’s cash pool went down the drain.
That’s when they started freaking out. They felt I needed psychological help or something. I think my dad thought I was an emu. Before we moved he went into a whole story about how emus always ended up isolated due to their odd ways. What the hell was that supposed to mean anyways? I mean yes I had an inferiority complex, but I wasn’t a raving lunatic—or emu. They really pissed me off when they mentioned the psychoanalyst. They really did. I obviously refused and our house went into an emotional turmoil. The whole scene was quite unnecessary. My dad felt the best thing for me would be a move. He phoned a few friends and finally, as I said, landed a job near Pepin, Wisconsin at the University of Wisconsin-Stout. That’s why my perfect family and I moved to Pepin. I could have cared less. As far as I can remember, these were the thoughts racing through my head during the flight. Little had I known that fate was having some thoughts of its own.
Chapter 2: Pepin, Wisconsin
As my dad’s buddy pulled his car and us into Pepin, my heart literally got caught someplace between my throat and stomach. Coming from such a packed city, Pepin was a real shocker for me. To the left, all I could see was a lake. Don’t get me wrong though. It was a lake of mythical proportions and I had the feeling if I dived deep enough into it I would find beasts of the imagination. More interestingly, woods surrounded the town. These were the type of woods, which only storybooks could offer. Was it just me or were there eyes peeping among the trees? Listening closely, I could have sworn I heard a sadistic witch ritual ricocheting among the barks. The village was strangely isolated and gave off an odd glow—well, maybe the moon had something to do with this. Pepin kind of held me in awe. It seemed so impossible that such a quiet town could exist in the time of cell phones, jeans, American Idol, and Britney Spears. My mouth was watering from utter astonishment and endearment. It really was.
Finally coming to my senses, I decided to observe the reactions of the rest of the lot. My father, of course, had a smile as wide as Bayonne, New Jersey plastered upon his face. It made me jealous. Why hadn’t I inherited that aura of good will? Damn genetics! My mom was the real criminal though. Even though there was a view worth dying for just a centimeter of glass away from her, she had chosen to spend the car ride soliciting and advertising makeup with her wretched cell phone. It was near midnight! God, I hated cell phones. I never was a phone person. Well, I never really had anyone to call and even if I had I would have wanted to communicate face to face. Yes, I’m quite old-fashioned. I’m surprised I haven’t been burned at stake yet.
Brittany had to have retained the most priceless and shallow expression—no joke intended. She looked so dumbfounded and miserable. Her eyes were glassy and seemed to be searching for the next outlet mall, cineplex, or coffee house. I could almost read her mind. She seemed to be imploring in a tone fit for royalty, “Ummmm…where in the world am I supposed to go hang out in this hell-hole? Where are my beloved skyscrapers? Must I live among trees? I’ve never been much of a happy camper. Dear New York City take me back. Please God, take me back!” Oh the drama. She looked tearfully into my eyes expecting some sort of sympathy, but I merely shot back a callous, blank stare. I can really be a jerk at times. I swear.
The crunch of gravel beneath the tires was almost deafening in the silence as we were pulled into the driveway of a house that gave off more of a cottage feel. We bid farewell to our distinguished driver and stood staring at our house-to-be for a few, strangely slow seconds. Finally, my father—the leader of our cult—, of course, took charge and suggested, “I think our luggage is extremely tired from the hardships of travel. It really, really, really wants to get unpacked and relax. You know me, I’m all about the rights of inanimate objects.” Gosh he cracked me up sometimes. He’s cracked up everyone in this world at some time or another. Heaving the luggage into the house, we stood in what I supposed to be a darkened, empty living room.
All I remember of that night is staring out of the window of my designated bedroom while unpacking. I’m a heck of a multitasker. I really am. Actually, I think teenagers nowadays are born with that trait. Lucky us. I could actually see stars hanging among the heavens. A feeling of insignificancy spread through my body. It was an odd feeling—knowing that you were a mere speck of dust on the surface of the universe. Damn that made me morbid.
The whole night, I could hear my family arguing among themselves just past the shut door of my bedroom. I caught onto phrases like, “This move better change things for him. We’ve left behind our lives for Echo. This is all for him. We’re living in the freaking woods!” Boy, oh boy, did that increase that feeling of morbidity I was explaining. What if Wisconsin turned out to be just like New York City? Would I fail my family again? I don’t know how, but I just knew Pepin had something to offer me. God knows where this something was lurking, but it was there. I could have sworn I felt it. Nerd telepathy anyone?
When I did manage to catch some shuteye, my dreams were filled with the peering eyes and gruesome voices I had imagined in the woods. They were calling me silently—magnetically. They had a story to tell and some history to reveal. Yet, when I got close enough for investigation, they simply and mysteriously vaporized into thin air and I was left waving my hands in the dark as I jerked to actuality. People claimed there was a fine line between illusion and reality. I wondered how much truth this held. I really did wonder. Instantaneously, I recalled a relevant observation. The old Chinese sage Chuang-tzu had once said, “Once I dreamed I was a butterfly, and now I no longer know whether I am Chuang-tzu, who dreamed I was a butterfly, or whether I am a butterfly dreaming that I am Chuang-tzu.” So, philosophically speaking, I could very well have been living in a dream. That thought creeped me out completely and with it I slowly drifted into a senseless sleep.
I woke up quite early the next morning, which was quite strange for me. After all, my mom called me nocturnal since I literally worked best at night and slept no earlier than four in the morning. What can I say? Nerds just liked doing their homework and all that jazz that late. The daytime was for observing. I was a brilliant observer since I had nothing better to do. Seeing that everyone else was still miserably knocked out, I decided to venture out into Pepin and get some lonely enjoyment out of the meager week of summer vacation I had left.
The broad daylight and sounds of wildlife dazzled my eyes and ears as I swept down the steps of our new home. After walking for a couple of minutes, I entered onto some sort of tourist street. Here, restaurants and a few random stores were sandwiched together in every which way. I didn’t like this aspect of Pepin—I liked the secluded parts—so I bustled on until I came upon a very administrative looking library. Yes, leave it to me to have found the library in one shot. The marble floors of it echoed beneath my loafers as I groped my way into the local history section. I picked up a really old, neglected book entitled The Forgotten Myths of the Village Elders. Immediately, I checked who had last taken out the book. I’ve always needed to do that. I don’t know why. Maybe I just liked knowing there were other people who read and escaped in between the lines—who wanted to transcend past the norm of thought. Some person named Elizah Crawford had held the book in her hands about half a year ago. I wondered if she had enjoyed it.
Perusing through it, I came across an extremely thick chapter on werewolves. Apparently, Wisconsin was the state that held the greatest tally of werewolves in the nation. An outlandishly large number of sightings had been recorded here, but nowadays people had forgotten the supposed legends. Wisconsin parents now utilized the old stories as catalysts to put their misbehaving children to bed at night—since the werewolves would “eat them alive” if they didn’t obey. It was so sad how fantastical myths and legends were stripped down to the print till they were merely bedtime stories. It really was sad. I stared down onto a yellowed page of the book, which had a sketch of a werewolf embedded upon it. Its yellow eyes seemed to be full of anguish—like those of a pharaoh’s whose empire and rule had ceased to exist. I too felt my body being meshed into an almost melancholic state so I shoved the book back into its insignificant, dusty place on the library’s shelf.
Trying to rid myself of that wretched feeling, I kept running out and past the library till I reached the edge of the woods. The scary part of it was that I wasn’t even looking where I was going. I simply let my feet drag me wherever they willed. The woods wanted me for some reason. The branches of the ominous trees lurched in my direction and seemed to want to pull me in amongst their ancestors. Right beside me, the lake pillaged and hissed for me to accept the invitation the woods were offering me. I don’t know why, but I caved in and followed. What did I have to lose anyways? Boy, oh boy had I been naïve a year ago.
Chapter 3: The Little Woods
My entire body began to be covered in scrapes and bruises as I squished myself among the extremely dense, thick, and rough trees of the woods. Even though it had to be about eight in the morning, I could barely see in front of me due to the engulfing evergreen darkness. The earth was matted with large, smooth leaves and branches. I thought I was going insane since I literally flipped every time I heard a branch snap in the distance. Could it be that someone was following me? Could it be that something was following me? I swore to myself I heard monstrous breathing, but I could not pin point where the horrible sounds were coming from. Hours and hours passed and my body wanted to turn back. I swear it did, but my soul kept dragging it along the floor. I was lost—at least I felt I was—and I was most definitely scared.
I felt the piercing eyes on me again. They had been on me since I had entered Wisconsin. I just knew it. Spinning frantically on the spot, I saw nothing but the dark columns, which were the shadows of the freakishly large foliage. Then, I spotted it. Some sort of four-legged creature was darting in and out of the trees. At its sight, I backed off and tripped over some unearthed roots. I scuffled along the ground awaiting my utter annihilation and shut my eyes tight. My body felt the thing bore down upon my chest and for a second I thought I was dead. Opening my eyes, I saw myself looking into very human eyes—except they were a glowing yellow.
The creature was an unusually large gray wolf. Even with its numerous teeth jut out, it appeared oh too docile. From as far as I could tell, the wolf was female and I didn’t dare move any further to investigate past this observation. It simply rested on top of me like I was a pedestal of some sort. She kept moving her mouth—almost as if she had something to say to me. The whole scenario was really quite absurd. Based on a sudden whim, she leaped off of me, but stayed very close. I think she liked me and I found her to be majestic since most people never even approached me. Yes, I am bloody crazy.
I sat down on the foot of an extremely gnarled tree and watched her. She was so darn beautiful. An urge slowly spread through my body and I began to spill my entire life story to the wolf! It felt crazy and right at the same time. I felt so odd. My voice must have soothed her though because she eventually trotted back up to me and laid her large head on top of my leg. As I spoke on, she even let me pet her. She was supposed to be a wild wolf and yet, she was acting like a housebroken dog. After I had had my fair share of ranting and complaining about how much my life sucked, I urged her to share her story. I told you I was crazy, but I just felt she had something to say to me. Otherwise, why had she been following me around? Why?
She simply stared into my eyes with her yellow, human eyes and waited. I looked at the old watch hanging on my wrist and saw that it was five in the morning. Damn my parents were probably dying of worry at this very moment and here I was at the peak of insanity talking to a gorgeous wolf. I got up and began looking for a way out of the mess of trees I had lost myself in. The wolf seemed upset. Actually, she had grown upset after I had finished my story. She was definitely not an ordinary wolf. Maybe she hadn’t liked the ending in which I had claimed I had nothing really to live for. Did she think I was just being the average, complaining, self-absorbed teen? After realizing I was attributing thoughts to a wolf, I shouted out into the open, “She’s a freaking wolf. She has no thoughts. She’s supposed to want to kill me.” I then turned to where she was growling relentlessly and asked, “What the hell is wrong with you? Act like a damn wolf!” Did I ever mention how much I was lacking in common sense? Have you ever heard the saying: “Ask and it shall be done.” Well, I asked and the wolf did.
She lunged at me and dug her teeth deep into the fragile skin surrounding my neck. Then, she began darting in and out of the trees as fast as she had come. I groaned in astonishment and felt the blood seeping out from the wound in my neck. Yet, her bite had not even hurt—it had simply occurred. Stopping the flow of blood with my hand, I began chasing after her aimlessly. She needed to be calmed down. I wanted her to realize my guilt. Yes, I felt sympathy for a wolf. I told you I was crazy. Maybe I had needed a psychoanalyst.
The wolf led me right out of the woods and near the edge of the lake. After that, I lost track of her. I had no idea where she could have disappeared off to—no idea whatsoever. At the brim of the lake, I dropped down to my knees and cleaned the bite out by splashing some water onto it. The area surrounding the wound had no feeling at all. It was like I had no neck. I didn’t really care though. I cared more about the mysterious wolf.
Without the wolf, I don’t think I would have even made it out of the woods. Having nothing better to do at this point, I found my way home. It was near seven AM now and the thought of my family pounded and resonated throughout my head. I rushed into the house and started to leap up the staircase and into my room, but my parents and sister cut this quest short. Immediately, my mother bellowed, “WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU. YOU’VE BEEN MISSING THE WHOLE DAMN DAY. DO YOU EVEN CARE ABOUT THIS FAMILY? WE BOUGHT YOU A CELL PHONE FOR A REASON, BUT NO YOU DON’T BELIEVE IN PHONES SO YOU REFUSE TO CARRY IT AROUND. WE’VE BEEN WORRIED SICK THE WHOLE FREAKING DAY AND YOU DECIDE TO SHOW UP AT SEVEN IN THE MORNING. I WOULD HAVE NEVER EVER IN A MILLION YEARS HAVE EXPECTED THIS OF YOU ECHO. WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?”
I definitely had no words to respond to that outburst so instead I stared stupidly at the lot standing there. My parents’ angered faces along with my sister’s amazed one hung before me. Behind them stood a pair of indifferent cops waiting to be acknowledged. My father noticed my train of sight and laughed, “Well, officers thank you so much for your time and patience. The boy is obviously safe and sound. We’ve just moved here and I suppose he was out late having fun with some new friends he’s made. Aren’t I right Echo?”
The cops shuffled closer to me and stared at my neck cautiously. To my father, one of them refuted, “Night of innocent fun you say? Your boy here has a large bite embedded into the skin of this neck. I can’t really see it that well due to the lack of light in this house. You guys really need to get the electricity up and running in this place. Anyways, where the hell did he get that from?” My family automatically peered down at me also. I almost couldn’t stand their horrified glances and felt my stomach pang with an uneasy feeling.
I nervously cried, “It’s nothing. Dad’s right. I was just out with a few kids I met in town and totally lost track of time. Really. Officers, there’s nothing to inquire about.”
Before anyone could respond, my sister saved my neck by putting into words an extremely idiotic and superficial thought of hers. “Oh my god, who gave you that hickey. Gosh, Echo, I never knew you had it in you to attract anyone of the opposite sex—or any sex for that matter. Who knew?” Everyone in the room started blurting out with sheer amusement and laughter. It kind of pissed me off a little. Why couldn’t a nerd get a girl? Due to the engulfing dark nature of the house, everyone believed Brittany’s suggestion. I kind of found it hilarious. The brilliant police officers drove away from our house still laughing and my parents—seeing I was utterly embarrassed—went to take a nap. After pestering me for a little while, my sister followed in suit.
I was completely exhausted and as soon as I entered my room, I gratefully spread across my bed. The wolf found its way into my thoughts and suddenly bared her teeth. My mind immediately crossed over to her memory—the bite. At this point, I was beginning to freak out. My neck felt paralyzed. Was it paralyzed? Did I have rabies or something? I really wanted to express my fears to my parents, but I just didn’t want to tell them about my idiotic venture. I really didn’t. Instead, I just stayed put and grabbed a couple of Twinkies from my bedside table. Their sugary goodness eventually led me into a trance or half-sleep where the memory of the wolf dwindled before me. If only I had made more sense of the situation at that time I could have grasped the reality of my situation much quicker. Rabies would come to be the least of my worries.
Chapter 4: Echo’s Metamorphosis
