That afternoon, while I was getting more cleaning solution, I ran into Jeremy.
“Hello Dandy,” he said, smiling at me.
“Hello Jer,” I returned the smile, and headed toward the vendor, “What brings you to Mansons Grocery?”
“Errg, ‘ve been asked to help with the slaughtering of a few sheep for farmer Henderson. Sick lambs, born dead of winter,” he shook his head in pity, and I frowned with him.
“Sad. Well, it’s too bad. He’s needed some new sheep.”
“I agree, but it’s better for them not to suffer, don’t you agree?”
“Of course,” I smiled shyly at him, and he grinned back.
Jeremy then took a step closer, and my heart began to thump almost uncomfortably, “You know, Dandelion? I’ve been thinking…”
“Hmm hum?” And then, the perfect moment, with him searching my eyes and I his. I heard a cough and a grunt.
I didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. Jeremy and I split up quickly, turning so fast to the wall of merchandise nearly toppled. I glanced over, heat rising in my cheeks, “What Deputy Windsor?”
He didn’t look particularly pleased either, and fingered for me to come over. I mocked the gesture. Is he serious? He stamped his foot and ushered, “Jeremy, if you’ll excuse the lady.” His tone was nowhere near polite, but it was an improvement.
“What?” I hissed at him when he was in close enough range.
“I don’t want you talking to Jeremy,” he dragged me another isle over.
“What? Why not?” The surprise nearly stopped me short, and Anthony had to boot me up again and drag me to the counter.
“Because… I honestly can’t tell you.”
“What?! Windsor, this isn’t funny.”
“Nor do I think find funny,” Replied Anthony in all seriousness, “But for one I simply can’t tell you the reason, and that’s a job description, so don’t give me grief. I don’t want you talking to Jeremy.”
“Anthony, you’re being ridiculous. Now you’re going to seem the jealous type if you don’t allow me to finish my conversation with him.”
Windsor’s lips drew a line, an irritated, hopeless line that gave me much pleasure. He rubbed his hollow eyes, and then said, “It has to do with my work. Okay? That’s as much as I can tell you.” He said this with little conviction, but I let him have the argument. It’d just continue it tonight, is all.
“Fine,” I said tartly, and turned on my heel to the cashier. I set my few items on the counter and waited for the man to ring them up.
Windsor was back in my ear, “I mean it Dandy, this is very serious.”
“You haven’t given me any proof to its seriousness, but I’ll think about it,” I conceded. I took a step back and landed on his foot.
He growled an ‘ouch,’ gave me a sneer, and stormed out the door. It slammed behind him. Jeremy came back around the corner as Anthony left, impeccable timing.
“So what was that all about?” Jeremy knew of Windsor’s and my mutual hate, it was impossible not to, and it would come as no surprise he had questions.
“Ha,” I pretended to laugh dryly, “He wanted to ask me more questions about my cousin. He heard I was the one that found her, and seemingly swallowed his pride.” Too much, and besides, Windsor would die before swallowing any sort of pride.
“Hum. Interesting,” Jeremy set his own items on the counter, and the cashier finished up with mine quickly.
“You were saying something earlier,” I told him, speaking again when we were both outside. It was probably vain hope though.
“Ah, yes, well this Sunday is still a while away, but you know of the annual roast my uncle does every single year?”
“Yes, it usually goes over well with the town.”
“Well, I need a partner to go with, and Windsor is busy that night-,” Inwardly I stopped breathing, “So I was wondering if you’d like to tag along with me. It could be fun.”
I didn’t hesitate, “Of course, that sounds brilliant.” The best thing since, EVER in fact.
“Oh? Good! Glad you can come… But, if you don’t mind…” Knew it. Knew there had to be a catch, “Could you bring something to eat?”
This shocked me a few moments, then I regained my composure and assented, “Of course, anything in particular?” It seemed to tumble out of my mouth all at once, and the words leap-frogged over one another.
Thankfully, Jeremy just laughed and told me to bring whatever I wanted. “Although, I suggest some sort of meat product. It is a roast after all…”
I would think that there would already be plenty of meat product at the roast, but certainly wasn’t about to say so. Not when luck was this good. We smiled and went our separate ways, me nearly running all the way back to the house.
****************************
That night Anthony came over about six, when the sun hung low and suspenseful in the horizon. He was agitated and paced, an annoying trait, constantly back and forth between the kitchen and the bedroom, which was as far as anyone could go in my small cottage. I sat down with the leftover whiskey from this morning.
“For the love of God, would you sit?”
He growled and didn’t say anything coherent after that. I let him be. Turning into a completely different species every night must take its toll on a person, there’s really no way it couldn’t.
Then, when the final rays of sunlight had taken leave of the sky, he went into the bedroom. A few minutes later I heard screams. I started, scared witless for a moment before I remembered the warning he had issued me earlier in the day.
“The change is always painful, and I’m a little feral after it first happens. Best to stay where you are until I come to you.”
And so I sat. I barely moved, except to take a hefty swig from. My hands trembled ever so slightly, and I felt weak. I swear something moved in my stomach. This was a bad idea. This was a bad idea from the beginning. But what other idea was there? Let him run amok the town? No…
The dog-creature slunk in, his stubby tail swinging numbly back and forth. He came over and sniffed the hem of my dress, then looked at me inquiringly, licking his chops. A vise I hadn’t realized was there loosened around my heart.
I got up and took down some painkillers, one of his requests, and set them on the ground. He padded over and licked them up greedily from the floor, before plopping down on the rug. We sat there in silence a few minutes. There wasn’t much talking we could do. Was this it? Was this all there was to it? I knew I wouldn’t have any callers, not this late at night, and I might as well go to bed. Instead I took out a book I had read a million times before and started reading by the weak lamplight, flipping to a random page and picking up from there.
A few minutes later I felt a tug on my skirt. I looked down, surprised to see the dog there. Windsor had my skirt in his teeth and was tugging on it, staring pleadingly up at me.
“What?” I said, a little irritated.
He whined, and stood up. Standing up, he was nearly as tall as me sitting. He pawed my book and chuffed.
“Really?” I asked him, “You really want me to read to you?” Was he serious?
With difficulty, the dog bobbed his head, and I understood Windsor’s logic. What else were we going to do?
“Alright,” I frowned, and flipped back to the beginning, “Might as well. Read until you bark? Yeah?” The dog chuffed again, which I simply took as a ‘yes’. I started, reading carefully but not slowly. I had read the words enough to know them nearly by heart, but suddenly it was difficult to say them aloud. I hadn’t heard them aloud since Mama died, and I also wanted to please the wolf. But really, I thought, the wolf was not Windsor. Two different things. “In a large and tossed together city grew up a boy and a girl. They were twins, born exactly two minutes and five seconds apart on a blue moon…” It was a classic fairy tale told to most of the older children in the village. I was much too old for it, but I still enjoyed the stories. I wondered if Windsor enjoyed them as well, but then thought about it, told myself I didn’t care. He was a dog for the moment, and couldn’t say a thing about it.
Halfway through the second chapter, I looked back at the dog. His eyes were closed, and suddenly I noticed the small snuffling sounds of Anthony's dreams. Windsor had fallen asleep. I nearly laughed out loud, but I didn’t want to disturb the dog, so I- bookmarking the page- went and got a blanket and a stack of my father’s old clothes. After setting them out, in case he woke up in need for them, I went into the bedroom myself and got into my ruined nightgown. It was stained horribly pink, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t still useable, as long as I didn’t go running any errands in it. The bed was outrageously cold.
