Hairwolf

Back at the lake, Foster, and Brizzbee review a Topo map of the park, sipping coffees, as numerous wardens and troopers search the area.

Perplexed and concerned, Brizzbee ponders, “I can’t believe I shot that woman. I could have sworn it ...”

“... It’s not your fault, Brizz,” Foster says. “I made the call. But we got to find her.”

A trooper approaches them with some “skeptical” news. “Vermont had to close down one of their parks last night. Something about a large creature attacking campers. Minor injuries. The media’s reporting Bigfoot. Why couldn’t we have a Bigfoot? Instead we’re chasing around some rabid bear?”

“We’re actually looking for a woman that may have been dragged off by a rabid bear,” Foster says. “Did we call Vermont to find out what it was?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t. I could find out.”

“I’ll handle it,” Brizzbee says.

The trooper walks away.

“Two now? Did we think about that?” Brizzbee, asks.

“Let’s find the girl and not talk about whatever it is. Don’t need half the country descending on Maine. Stick with the rabid bear.”

Foster takes his radio out, asking ... “Does anybody have anything to report?”

A Warden replies - “Nothing at Mayfield gate. Had a couple of gals leave, but that’s it.”

“What gals?” Foster asks.

“Female, black, one white, mid-thirties. Departed in a Chevy Tahoe, NY reg. Driver had nothing to report so we let them pass.”

“They exited Mayfield trail?”

“Mayfield Trail. Correct.”

The radio goes silent. Foster questions Brizzbee with - “I thought you said that area was checked.”

“I said that was the only one left to check. I just never got around to checking it. You said you checked it last night before you went up the cliff.”

“I said I checked part of it.”

Foster starts towards his truck, radio to mouth. “If anyone else exits the park, get names and license plates. And let me know. They may have seen or heard something.”

“Roger.”

“We’re shutting down the park as of now,” Foster says entering the truck. Brizzbee enters the passenger side and they depart.

Back at the truck stop, Stef dresses in the rear seat. Many things are going through her mind. She needs time to think. But with her world coming undone, and now Maine State troopers looking for Lillian, she’s pressured into action. So many unknowns.

“We have to do something.” Lillian says, fingering the bottom of the donut bag for crumbs. “We have to let them know I’m alright.”

“I know,” Stef replies. “And how would you like to do that?”

“I don’t know – call them.”

“Call them!?”

“Why not?” Lillian asks.

“What would I say?”

“Who cares? They’re looking for me and I’m not lost. They need to know that.”

“I need to think. Where’s the food?”

Stef rifles through the cooler. It’s empty. She climbs over the seat to the passenger side and opens the glove box. Hopefully, it’s still there. Yup! She retrieves a bag of trail mix. The two rip into it.

“Oh, so much better.”

Lillian looks over at Stef. It’s real. She’s a werewolf. How could this ever have happened? “I’m worried sick about you.”

“Right now, I’m more worried about them,” Stef admits. She spies a payphone and reaches for her bag with, “got any quarters?”

“Yeah... No, I don’t “got” any quarters. I have quarters. Where the hell’d you learn to talk?”

“Spell that for me, “hell’d” How do you spell that?”

“Hell’d? H-E-L-L’D. Why?” Lillian asks.

“There’s no such freakin word.”

“It’s phrasing. It doesn’t need to be a word.”

“So, got, which is a word can’t be used as phrasing?”

“You didn’t use it as phrasing. You used it as grammar. Improper grammar, to boot.”

“It’s grammar?”

“Yes. So what do we need quarters for? We have cell phones?”

“Cell phones are more traceable.”

“They can’t trace a landline?”

“Who cares? We’re not going to be here long.”

“Very clever. Put some of that knowledge into your grammar and I might hang out with

you more often.”

Stef is not happy about that comment.

“I’m only kidding. It’s more your clothes.” Lillian hands her the purse, noticing the grimace on her face. “You gotta see yourself sometimes. It’s embarrassing. You don’t even bother changing the shirt you sleep in.”

“Oh, well, you won’t have to worry about seeing me ever again. How’s that? Shit and shit. And where do you get off using the word, gotta in a sentence? It ain’t a word. Remember?”

Stef pulls out a couple of quarters, commenting - “This all you got? You ain’t got any more? I gots to gets more.”

“I hope you’re happy. Making my ears hurt. Probably got that from the orphanage.”

“I wasn’t at an orphanage. I was orphaned. Then fostered. So there.”

“Wait a minute. What? How does that work? You were orphaned. You had to stay someplace. Where’d you stay?”

“I don’t remember,” Stef admits.

“Was it a building?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Stef recalls, trying to avoid thinking about it.

“Then it was an orphanage. Come on, it’s not like you woke up one day and your parents were gone. I’m sure … No they didn’t. Stefanie! Are you shittin me?”

“Can we talk about this another time?”

Lillian wants to talk about it now and pushes her.

Stef continues, unwillingly. “I don’t remember exactly, but it was something like that. It was fast, I know that much.”

“There has to be a reason. How come I didn’t know that? Did I know that? We ever talk about that?”

Stef’s looking at her, holding her necklace in disbelief.

“Oh, please. Tell me I didn’t know that,” Lillian, begs.

“No! You know, you’re a piece of work. You do this all the time.”

“I know, I’m horrible, aren’t I? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because you never asked.”

“Maybe your mom dropped you off to save you from your father. . . what do you mean I never asked? Who the hell goes around asking their best friend if their parents ran off on them in the middle of the night?”

“Look, I’m who I am because of it. And that’s all I need to know.”

Lillian reaches for her but she’s already out. Lillian exits the drivers’ side, catching up to her.

“There had to be a reason, Stef. People just don’t leave their child for the hell of it. You need to believe that. Something like that, you have to look at the positive . . .”

“. . . I’m trying,” Stef says, spinning around on her, angered. “But I’m not there yet.” Stef walks away as Lillian continues talking.

“I can help with... Stef. Stef. STOP!” Lillian demands. “Do not turn your back on me. Here and now!”

Stef freezes in her footsteps dropping her shoulders and head. This is one conversation Lillian will not let go of. She walks back to Lillian, obediently. It must be a code they have with each other. Never walk away mad or hurt.

“Now listen,” Lillian says. “I understand what you’re going through but I don’t think you do. Part of you wants to move on but the other part doesn’t know how. If we can’t find out why they left, then we have to give them the benefit of the doubt. Cause this way isn’t working. And I can help

with that. And you’re gonna let me help with that.”

“Fine. Let’s get through this first, then we’ll come back to that. How’s that?”

“I’m willing to bet your parents knew about this werewolf shit.”

“It’s a nice thought, but the werewolf “shit” happened long after they were gone. And do me a favor. You’re talking about something that is a large part of who I am and what I am. Please don’t refer to it as, shit.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right. Werewolf, bull-shit. How’s that?”

“Say that tonight, after the full moon. We’ll see how well that goes over.”

“Oh, hell no. I ain’t gonna be anywhere near you, tonight. I’m goin to Vegas. Seriously, listen to me. You were five years old. A child. You have no idea what was going on around you at that time. You have to give them and yourself the benefit of the doubt. It’s time to start looking at this through a different lens.”

“Mr. Winster said the same thing.”

Stef takes Lillian by the arm and walks towards the phone booth. “You won’t hang out with me because of the way I talk and you won’t get off of my ass about things I don’t want to talk about. Frigin, Lillian.”