Wayward Guide for the Untrained Eye 30 Day Prompt
(This takes place after Episode 10)
(I do not own any other characters or place names outside of Shelby St. Ranger, this is just for fun)
By the time we had a wild eyed Aubrey sitting in the bar, there were a number of people standing outside. Desmond had locked the door, which was the only reason they weren’t inside. Helen and Olivia were inside with us.
“Aubrey.” Desmond said with his arms crossed. “What were you yelling about out there?”
“As if you don’t know.” Aubrey snapped.
“Is this all because we wouldn’t let you write about us?” Helen asked, in a tone that suggested she already believed that herself.
“No.” He said running his hands through his hair. “Though I do believe that set off this little rampage I have just gone on. I am sorry for declaring that werewolves were real, but I couldn’t watch it fade away again.”
“Did you tell anyone like who they are?” Olivia said nervously.
“Of course not. I just...I just said they exist. That the LSD story was just that, a story.”
Aubrey calmed down and Helen walked him back through the now dwindling crowd back to his house. The town seemed to tuck itself back away.
As soon as they were gone, Desmond shut the door and locked it again. “Damnit, Aubrey.” He came back to the bar and placed his hands on the bartop. “We were so close to this bein’ over.”
“We weren’t though.” Olivia said. “I’ve gotten a lot more silver bullet orders than I’ve ever had before. I tried to make excuses not stock them, but I’m running out of good reasons.”
“That could just be coincidence.” Desmond said.
“Some coincidence. Anyway, I must get back to Riley. Goodnight.”
Desmond went and locked up behind her again. While he was at the door he asked, “Do you want to leave now?”
He smiled and came back to the bar. “You can stay, Shelby.”
He shrugged. “You can tell them some other time.”
I continued to drink my beer which had only lost some of its chill. “Do you think they’ll believe Aubrey?”
“With his family history, I don’t think they will.” He cleaned a glass with his towel. “But I’m afraid he might just get the doubt started.”
“At least he didn’t name names.”
“He’s still a good person, just had a rough go of it is all.”
“I shouldn’t have agreed to the book in the first place.”
“Oh that wouldn’t have stopped him, Shelby. And I think you’d write a fine book, with or without him.”
“You want me to write the book?”
“Of course it would be dangerous, but I’d be curious to see how you’d write all out.”
I sighed. Me too, I thought. “It would’ve been nice.”
“You think more about those experiences you were tellin’ me about before?”
I looked up at him, surprised. “I’d almost forgotten. With everything,” I waved at my body, “Happening.”
He grimaced and nodded. “Might be good to think on it a little. Seems to me, you already had some power before you got scratched. Might mix together. Might wanna be careful with it.”
“Do you know about this kind of thing happening before?”
“It’s less a matter of what happened before and more like just figuring.”
“I see.” I finished my beer. “Another.”
He refilled my glass. “Seein’ as we’re closed now, mind if I join you?”
We moved to a booth and Desmond broke the silence as I kept circling around what he’d said in my mind. “I’m glad you told me.”
“Hm? Oh yeah.” I nodded. “Me too. I didn’t like lying.”
“You’re not that great at it either.”
“I did!” We both took sips of our beers. “Honestly, I didn’t think anything would happen to me when she scratched me.”
“Then why did you lie about it at all?”
“Not sure. It just kind of happened.”
“Fear makes us do strange things.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.” I gestured behind me, to the front door. “With the town.”
“And that worries me more.”
“I just hope we’re wrong.” He drank some more and then sat back into the booth. “Why’d you move to Connor Creek, Shelby?”
Surprised by the change in topic, and doubly so that it was a personal one, I drank a large sip to give me a chance to think about what to say. “Well,” I began, “I wanted to write.”
“I know that. But why did you really?”
“I liked it here. Something about this place, felt right.”
He nodded. “That makes sense.”
“Does it?”
“The people drawn here aren’t just everyday people. You think every town is like this?”
“I know they’re not. But I mean every place has their eccentrics.”
“But almost every person?”
“Almost? Who isn’t eccentric here?”
“Me.” He said this like it was obvious.
I couldn’t hold in the laugh. “You’re a werewolf, Desmond.”
He looked around with a shine of panic and remembering we were alone, relaxed into his own chuckle. “I guess that gives me a little.”
“Still, with or without me, that’s a lot of special people out here drawn together. And we were drawn here, the Connors.”
“Wait, were you with the original Connors?” I asked, suddenly posed with the possibility of sitting across from an ancient being.
Desmond just laughed. “Now Shelby, you really think we live that long?”
I tilted my head as his eyes sparkled at me. I couldn’t tell if he was just avoiding the question or if the question was just that ridiculous to him. “Will I live a little longer now?”
He shrugged. “Might do.” He took another sip. “Have you transformed yet?”
“Not yet.” I thought of my experience in the bathroom. “Almost. How much am I supposed to change?”
“Remember me the other night?”
“Like that, but less hair.”
“Anger, sadness - any real strong emotion, ‘sides happy ones I guess. It’ll be easier on the full moon, I imagine. But once you get the hang of it, especially living where you do, should be easy enough to control.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“You should stop by next full moon. I can close early, help you learn how to do it.”
I was touched by the thought. “Thank you, Desmond.”
“Of course. You’re one of us now Shelby.”
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