�Perhaps if you would only relax and clear your mind as I�ve been insisting for the last twenty minutes,
we might get some results!�
�I don�t know why you�ve got me here flat on my back on your dinin� room table�I�d be much more
comfortable tryin� this in your bedroom.�
�That is exactly why,� I shot curtly through clenched teeth, still attempting to maintain an appearance of
calm collectedness if not the actual thing. Professionalism, Geoffery, I heard my first college instructor urge inside
my head. Always maintain a tight reign. When I turned to recheck my connection, I felt a warm hand brush gently,
yet with blatant intent across my buttocks. Straightening abruptly, I turned and peered down at the reposed
redhead. With her new perm, she resembled Li�l Orphan Annie in appearance and a toxic waste dump in aroma. I
forced myself to take a slow breath before trying, �Patricia-�
�Patsie.�
�Patricia, you and I are both highly aware of the true reason why this experiment is proceeding so poorly.�
��cause it ain�t nighttime! How can I succumb to your questionable little �spearmints if I ain�t properly
tucked into my bed?� She scooted forward to swing her magenta spandexed legs down from the table, rumpling the
sheets and disrupting the pillows I�d laid out for her comfort. �What if you come on over to my place later tonight?
I can curl up on my own cozy li�l waterbed, put on some soft music to get both of us nice and relaxed, maybe light up
a scented candle or three?�
�Absolutely not,� I stated firmly, disconnecting the brightly colored wires which should have been helping
me to monitor my subject�s brainwaves while she rested in a deep hypnotic trance.
�Then again,� she drawled, withdrawing a cigarette from the case I thought I�d hidden from her, �maybe
you�ve got too much equipment to stuff in my house.� She uttered that unforgivably high and wet-sounding cackle
that prevented her from enjoying any sort of a long-time relationship with anybody. �Can you help me pull all
these nasty little sticky pads off?�
Knowing full well it was a trap, I sighed and blundered right into it as usual. Attempting to gently peel a
wire free of her left temple, I discovered myself suddenly encompassed by legs. I stepped back and she came with
me, clinging so tightly to my middle I could hardly draw in breath. �Pa-tri-cia! Unhand me! Patsie!�
I stumbled. We crashed. There was a loud rap at the front door.
�Da-ad,� called Macy softly, peering shyly around the corner at us. �Company.�
�I know. I heard,� I groaned, attempting to ungently disentangle myself from the diminutive desiress. �Up
now,� I growled, stooping to help haul the woman to her feet. �Find your belongings and remove them from my
home.�
�Just my belongings?� she queried brainlessly, hunting for her lighter.
I stalked through the doorway past my daughter.
�She�s got the hots for you big-time.�
�I have nothing but the cold shoulder for her. May I be of some assistance?� I asked as I swung the front
door open.
The three large men were momentarily startled, but the young girl standing amidst them peered aridly
inside.
�We, uh, found her,� grunted the largest, watching me owlishly.
I nodded as though I understood. After enough time had passed that I found myself unable to keep from
appearing disdainful, I sighed, �Yes? You found...her?�
A trio of uh-huhs. Heads bobbled dumbly.
�And?� I prompted, quickly growing exasperated.
The big one shifted from boot to boot, compressing the snow which had drifted up around my front stoop.
�Carl?�
�What?� whined the smallest, flinching at the sound of his name. �We weren�t-�
�We thought we�d struck a deer or an elk or somethin�,� blurted the medium one in guilty tones.
I queried tiredly, �Elk?�
�But we got out to check an� found her.�
As I understood the situation�which was just barely�these men had no doubt been barreling along the
winding road which skirted my property as baseball-cap bedecked men in pickup trucks with unnecessarily large
tires often do, and had struck or grazed a dark shape on the edge of the snow-covered road which had turned out to
be this teenaged female standing before me. She appeared undamaged physically, save for her eerily bland
complexion which I attributed to the fact that she seemed to be clothed in little more than a loosely draped
woodland camouflage print blanket shedding dog hair, and, according to the large thermometer mounted where I
could see it to the right of the door, it was all of nineteen degrees outdoors at the moment. �Ah,� I mentioned, a tad
confused. �Do you wish to use my phone and call a physician?�
�Nuh-uh,� squawked the smallest, taking a step backward and colliding gently with the tallest. �We ain�t
got no money for that!�
�Does she live around here?�
�How the hell would we know that?�
The conversation was becoming tedious. The heat kicked on and I watched my electric bill rise while I left
the front door open for the entertainment of these imbeciles. �Have you questioned her?�
�Well, no! We was afraid to on account of we hit her!�
Behind my snow-blanketed Jeep Wagoneer idled the expected monster-wheel pickup truck, black smoke
pouring unheeded from the exhaust. Filth-speckled, it appeared otherwise unmarred from where I stood. While
very quiet, the barefoot child seemed otherwise undazed. �Where is her clothing?�
�Aw hell!� blurted Tiny, frustratedly whacking his faded orange ball cap against his right thigh. �You can
keep the blanket, Doc! We jus� came by t� drop her off!� Point finally made, they turned as one and abandoned the
stranger at my threshold.
�Wait!� I called after them. �What about the police?�
They obviously misunderstood me, for they bolted like flushed quail to their vehicle. I watched them
swerve dangerously out of my driveway, nearly ending up in the ditch on the opposite side of the road, then fishtail
wildly down the black-streaked white road.
Warmth came over me from about mid-chest down and I swayed slightly with a mild wave of vertigo.
�Whoa.... Please come in,� I told the forsaken waif who�d pressed herself against me. The girl stepped beyond me
into the warmth of my living room.
Patsie glared from the dining-room doorway, still fighting to light her cigarette, unaware I�d turned the
flame adjustment all the way down. �Uh,� she commented haughtily.
�Wow!� shrieked Macy, who was leaning dangerously far off the arm of the sofa for a better look.
The impish inveigler sauntered slowly toward me with one manicured hand poised upon her pendulumish
hips. �Later,� she purred, wiggling two-inch long sizzling pink plastic nails at me. She made certain her hip
brushed mine as she made her way to the door. �See you at eight?�
�The pack meeting!�
�Don�t dare be late,� she warned, trying to smile around the cold cigarette. She slammed the door shut as
she exited.
Macy crawled down from the sofa and hesitated toward our new guest. �Whozzis?�
�I have no idea. Why don�t we find out?� I lead the teen to the sofa, turned her around to face me, then
pushed her gently backward �til she sat. �My name is Geoffery McKenna. What is your name?�
Smiling slightly, head bowed shyly, she only shook her head. For a moment I was caught by her coy
demeanor, entranced by eyes the color of sky reflected off snow partially hidden by errant strands of silky ebony.
Noting her pupils looked unusually large and black, I wondered if perhaps she was on medication or taking illegal
drugs.
�Do you speak?� I tried.
She nodded.
�English?� I chuckled nervously.
�Yes.� Her voice was soft, deep, vaguely musical. I imagined she could probably sing quite well.
�Mace? Go and fetch one of my nice shirts and my flannel bathrobe.�
�Nice means, �not out of the hamper�, right?� The little blonde smart-alec scampered off to do my
bidding.
�Did you sustain any injury?�
Head shake. Such a pretty smile.
�You were hit by the truck?�
Her eyes widened when she nodded, yet the smile persisted.
I was a semi-retired doctor of veterinary medicine. The nearest human�s medical practitioner was over
thirty miles away. I nerved myself before the child. �I�m a doctor, and I�d like to take a quick look at you for bumps
and bruises, okay? If you feel at all uncomfortable just let me know and I�ll stop immediately.� She only gazed
back at me, so I bent slowly so as not to frighten her and reached forward for the ends of her besoiled blanket. She
neither flinched nor blushed as I pulled it open and looked down upon her. Completely nude, she was a little more
advanced for the age I had figured her, with a smooth beginning curve to her hips and small budding breasts that
would fit perfectly into the cups of my palms.... I shook off the sensation and turned away, blinking several times.
You are a doctor, Geoff, not playing one. Professionalism, man!
�Da-ad!� shrilled Macy�s voice from my room, startling me.
Whipping my head guiltily in her direction, I noticed her friend, Jeremy Kober, standing goggle-eyed in
the doorway to the dining room. �Go see what she wants!� I rather brusquely urged the semi-libertine lad firmly.
He scampered immediately. Before I could return my thoughts to more pressing matters, the pressing matter had
stood to press snugly up against me. I could feel her shivering (though it may well have been myself), so I bound
her hastily with the blanket and pushed her down once again onto the sofa cushions. �Macy! Haven�t you found my
robe yet?�
�Right here,� she snipped, parading through the doorway with my clothes dragging behind her. �Sheesh.�
When she halted, Jeremy trod on a shirtsleeve.
�Gimme that!� I yanked the garb away.
�Sorry, Mr. McKenna,� Jer apologized in his perpetually nasalesque voice. Bashfully, he pushed his
glasses a bit farther up his short nose.
�Mmm,� I commented unhappily, then handed our ambiguous visitor my clothes. �These are for you. The
bathroom is just that way, turn left and then right. When you�re dressed, I�ll have hot cocoa prepared.�
�Us too?�
�Of course, Macy. Why don�t you make enough for everybody then?�
�Well, I don�t want it that bad....�
�Mace....� I warned.
�Okay, okay,� she mumbled, leading Jeremy toward the kitchen. �But I know who�s not getting any
marshmallows.�
Alone, I pondered our enigmatic houseguest. If she was under the influence of illegal drugs or some
medication, it would certainly account for a lot. Her awkward mannerisms, slowness, unwillingness to cooperate.
Perhaps they�d peaked about the time she�d been struck by the pickup. Maybe that was when she�d been at her
highest and had felt no pain. Possibly, any injuries she�s suffered wouldn�t manifest until she�d snapped out of her
stupor.
I reached for the telephone beside the sofa. The receiver was sticky with a thin, mostly dried smear of
grape jelly. I discovered a handkerchief in my pocket and proceeded to unstick lint and fibers from it onto the
phone. Sighing, I dialed.
�Sheriff�s office, Deputy Weathers speaking.�
�Greetings, Una. Is your husband available?�
�Ah, my Geoffery. Ray�s out rescuing snowed-in squirrels or something. Have you a real problem, or
would you just like to chat to a lonely old woman?�
�No, thank you, sorry. When he returns, please tell him that three men have deposited a possible runaway
on my doorstep.�
�Who were they?�
�I don�t know. I may have seen them around town before. They claimed they thought they�d struck an elk
on the road, but when they checked they found a teenaged girl instead.�
�My! Is she hurt real bad?�
�She doesn�t appear to�ve sustained any injuries at all, but she may be in shock. I haven�t found out her
name yet. I�ll call back later if I don�t hear from Raymond in say an hour or so.�
�Okay, dear. Listen, could you come out our way some day next week and take a look at our new calf? I
think-�
�You know I don�t do that anymore, Una.� There was silence on the line. I added, �But if you should
happen to make one of your fabulous fattening chocolate mousse pies, I could possibly be persuaded to stop by
on...Wednesday?�
�Oh, thank you, Geoffery! I�ll be sure to give the Sheriff your message.�
Hanging up, I unstuck my hand from the phone.
�Cocoa�s ready!� Mace screamed from the kitchen. She�s always had a flair for the overdramatic.
The newly outfitted young woman had already found her way to the kitchen. Macy handed her one of my
large stoneware mugs filled to the top with steamy chocolate.
�No!� I cried, lunging forward.
My daughter, grasping the handle of the mug, was offering the beverage bowl-first. I saw the oblivious
teen reach for the scorching hot ceramic. �What?� Mace screeched at me.
�You should never offer a hot beverage like that! You could burn someone! But I guess it doesn�t really
matter�you obviously didn�t heat it through enough anyway.�
�What?� she repeated, baffled.
I reached for a mug of my own, grabbing it by the bowl and not the handle, and promptly dropped it.
When the ceramic broke against the linoleum, we could plainly see steamy vapor rising from the spilt liquid.
Holding my right wrist, scalded hand spread wide, I glanced over at the newcomer. She drank contentedly from her
mug, both hands clasped around it. I took it from her out of curiosity, then watched it smash at my feet, too.
�Zer a problem, Dad?�
�Uh, no, Macy.�
�Want to sip right from the kettle?�
I shot her an evil glare.
Both my hands were now painfully red and stinging, though it was really just a minor pair of burns. The
young woman� hands remained unmarked and even slightly cool to the touch. A few dozen scenarios ran through
my mind quickly, and I determined we just might have with us one of those rare individuals with the ability to
heal! Grasping her hands tightly in mine, I closed my eyes and said, �Heal me!�
Macy giggled.
The teen stared back at me as though the first spring flowers had just sprouted from my ears.
�You...don�t understand?�
She shook her head.
I pulled away and cooled my hands beneath the tap instead.
What drug existed that left a person immune to pain, yet able to perambulate without wobble and even
hold a heavy mug without shaking? If I recalled correctly, then I had read somewhere about a rare few human
beings who were born with total pain immunity. You could crack their ribs and they�d barely care. But, those
people would still show signs of trauma like redness or bruising, wouldn�t they?
Mace guided the older girl to a seat at the table so she could grill her. �What�s your name?�
Shrug and smile.
�You won�t tell or can�t tell?�
After a brief deliberation, �Can�t.�
�Can�t because someone said you couldn�t...or maybe you forgot...or-�
Excitedly, �Forgot!�
�Wow!� interrupted Jeremy, clearly impressed. �Do you think you got anesthesia?�
�Amnesia,� I corrected gently.
�Mmno.�
�Elaborate,� I asked her.
�I know some...but not much back....�
If by chance she really had some form of amnesia, she may have had it for some time. I still suspected her
symptoms might be drug-related.
Macy drew her legs up underneath herself on the chair seat. �What were you doing in the middle of the
road with no clothes on?�
�Didn�t need clothes.�
�Why not? It�s, like, negative forty degrees outside!�
�Not always human.�
A piece of ceramic crunched beneath the sole of my shoe.
Macy and Jeremy leaned as far as they could across the table toward the teen. �What were you?� my
daughter queried in conspirational tones.
�Elk.�
I winced.
�She�s a were-elk, Dad! Was there a full moon last night?�
Tossing a dishtowel to the largest chocolate puddle, I explained, �It was the first of the three nights of the
full moon, but really only a waxing gibbous.�
�Sure, right. She�s a were-elk, Dad! You got yourself a live one, here!�
I paused to consider this before it became much sillier. With the largest organized wolfpack on the West
Coast staying here and in Libby for their big winter solstice meeting, it was quite possible that this fetching female
was one of the visiting members. Although I had yet to attend my first meeting, I�d studied extensively on the
subject of therioanthropy and happened to know that alleged metamorphs sometimes rubbed their bodies with a
liniment containing hallucinagoric herbs and such that could produce the sensation of turning into a wolf...or
whatever creature you wished. There were stories of were-tigers and were-leopards, the kitsune were-foxes of
Japan, wolves of course...but elk? Perhaps while tripping, a deer had wandered into view and her hallucination had
sort of backfired? It could certainly support her nudity in a secluded snowy area. �Werewolves� also commonly
adorn themselves in skins of the creature they think they are, so perhaps she�d been loosely dressed in animal pelts
when the hicks had hit her, adding to the illusion that the girl was a woodland creature instead of a very human
teenager.
A horn outside sounded twice, and the Pavlovian children turned barbaric and ran screaming for the front
door. �Uncle Raymond! Uncle Raymond!�
Ray was soon stomping his boots against my doormat to loose some of the accumulated snow caked into
the thick and deeply-carved soles. When the door was flung open for him, he returned the wild greeting he
received with shouts of, �Macy McKenna! Jeremy Kober!� Hugs were distributed, and mint candy canes were
presented to both kids.
I hung the sopping dishtowel over the swan-necked kitchen faucet so I could go greet the Sheriff myself.
He handed me a candy cane.
�I don�t need this.�
Ray Weathers snatched the candy back, swiftly unwrapped the cellophane from the straight end, then
rammed the exposed length of sugar into my mouth.
�Hey, kiddles! What�s goin� on?�
�Oh!� Macy blurted excitedly, her mouth full of and already visibly decorated with broken candy,
�Geoffery found a were-elk!�
�Dad!� I corrected her sternly, extracting the cane from my mouth. �I didn�t find a were-elk, Ray, I-�
�Una said a girl was brought here after being struck by a pickup.�
�Right. She�s-�
�Unhurt, but not exactly cooperative. Where is she?�
�The kitchen,� I muttered after he�d already passed me on his way into the room where she still sat.
�Isn�t she neat?�
�Go watch TV, Mace. Aren�t your ducks on?�
�I missed �em.� Her ducks were the Disney characters which cavorted in bright colors across my TV
screen almost every afternoon. I couldn�t recall her ever missing an episode.
�Put a tape on.�
The kids dashed back for the living room.
�You need a wife, Geoff.�
�What?� I answered as I stepped from carpet to linoleum beneath the archway.
��cause then this child would be wearing a real robe.�
Ray Weathers was the extremely affable one-man police force in our tiny Montana town. An African
American several years younger than myself, he�d spent most of his life across the way in Libby. Except, of course,
for the few years he�d been enrolled at Harvard. The man was a genial genius, but the way he�d casually observe a
person, feel them out, get to know their personality and quirks before bringing himself down to their level without
mocking them, could put just about anybody quickly at ease and make them forget the man had a Ph.D. He�d
owned a gorgeous appaloosa years back that he�d ride on patrol when the weather was forgiving, and it was when
he�d still had Banshee that I�d returned as a veterinarian from New York to these parts.
�Have you studied her?�
�No. Why do you ask?�
�Come over here, Geoffery. Look at this.�
He was kneeling before the seated teen, so I squatted just behind him and peered inquisitively over his
shoulder. �What?�
�See it? Just beyond her? Blink a few times and it�s still there. Like a shadow of some sort. In the air
behind her.�
I got up enough to change my position, squinted, and realized the anomaly remained behind her no matter
which way I gazed at her. �Whoa...�
The Sheriff got up, crouching, and slowly circled her. �You still see it from where you are?�
�Yes.�
�Me, too. You�re the amateur spectre-detector, McKenna. What do you make of it?�
�Aura?� I suggested weakly.
�You�re the man with all the spooky books. Look it up.� Straightening, he placed a palm against her
forehead. �Seems a little pale�almost blue, actually�but then you crazy caucasians always seem to lose your color
and try to blend in with the snow every winter. This little white girl seems positively bloodless. Has she seemed
dizzy, fatigued, hungry or thirsty?�
�She hasn�t asked for anything.�
�Well, I�d be scared to ask, too, if you�ve been tossing mugs of cocoa around your kitchen.� He placed a
large shard atop the table, then shook a few brown droplets from the toe of one shoe. �You New Yorkers are
wacko. When are you going back?�
�New York!� gasped the girl.
Calmly, Weathers asked her, �What about New York, honey?�
�My home! I live there! New York!�
He patted the top of her head. �Good for you. I should have known. Do you remember where in New
York?�
�New York!�
�Make a note,� he said to me. �New York City.� He knelt again. �I do apologize for not introducing
myself. I�m Ray Weathers.�
�I�m,� she began eagerly. �I am....�
�That�s all right,� he told her kindly, giving her arm a reassuring squeeze, then gazing at his upturned
palm for a moment. �How about for right now we just call you...Cassidy?�
�Cassidy?� I repeated.
�I knew a girl in high school named Cassidy. Looked sort of like this one.�
�Cass,� I tried.
�Suit yourself, Geoff. Now then, Cass, is there anything else you can tell us about yourself? Where you go
to school? Your favorite food?�
She pondered, chewing at her lower lip, then shrugged.
�Well thanks for trying. I appreciate your help, Miss.� Patting her head again, I noticed how he left his
palm atop her skull for just a moment, then repeated the same curious movement with his hand, looking at it like
he felt something coating his palm. Ray stood and backed away, then turned and pulled me with him into the
dining room. �What are you planning to do with her?�
�Well, I�m thinking she may be under the influence of some kind of medication, so I was going to suggest
she shower and get some sleep. I�m under the impression she may be one of the visiting lycanthropes, so I thought
I�d take her with me to the meeting tonight to see if anyone can claim her.�
The man rolled his eyes and shook his head. �We�re gonna be on standby the whole time those freaks are
in this town. You don�t think she�ll cause you any trouble?�
�I�ll keep an eye on her.�
�At least one ear, too,� he warned seriously.
�Thanks for stopping by, Ray.�
�This is definitely a weird one,� he sighed, strolling into the living room to wave goodbye to the kids.
�I�ve got a few calls to make.� He drew open the door and took in a breath of fresh, clean, head clearing winter air.
Stepping outside, he called back to me, �Wednesday! Chocolate mousse pie!�
�Be there!� I promised.
�Can we keep her?�
I secured the door, locking both locks. �She�s not a pet, Mace.�
�She�s a were-elk!�
�She might be a werewolf...� I muttered thoughtfully.
�Really, Dad?�
�Maybe so.�
�What�re ya gonna do with her, Mr. McKenna?�
�Let her get some rest, then bring her to the meeting tonight.�
�What time was that again?�
�What do you care? You�re not coming along.�
�Aw, Dad!�
�You will be in bed no later than ten o�clock, and Una Weathers will be stopping by at some
undetermined time after I�ve left to make sure you haven�t burned the house down or anything.�
�Can we order pizza?� asked Mace, utilizing her best sad-puppy expression.
�Yes. Before I leave.�
�Yea!� the kids shouted jubilantly, giving each other high-fives as they bounced across the sofa cushions.
