The Wolf in Room 327

         Within the white handrails of the apartment room’s balcony, a young teenage boy named Gary Hydel carefully put the finishing touches on a small drawing. His right hand carefully worked his pencil in swift upwards strokes, bringing a subtle textured shade onto the wings of a dove now taking up most of the
paper. With flicks of the wrist characteristic of an experienced artist, the dove now grew a beak, legs, and feet. Next came a banner clutched in its claws, finished off with the message, “I miss
you, mother.”

         A teardrop now fell down onto the small scrap of paper, slightly smudging the freshly laid pencil marks. Wiping the drop away with his sleeve, Gary stared into the eyes of his drawing, so vivid in mind yet so lifeless on paper. Those eyes seemed to mirror his memories, which pierced his heart like an arrow, sending an incomprehensible pain through his body. He quickly broke his stare, hugging the picture close as tears leaked from his hazel eyes, the breeze waving his brown locks of hair about.

         His mother was the only thing he could think of ever since she left his world forever. It occurred just shy of five months ago, on a stretch of highway less than a mile from his house. He was unlucky enough to see it all happen from the very balcony he now sat on. He saw his mom’s car hit sideways by a rampant SUV, followed by the flip, and ultimately ending with a plunge off the overpass. The horror he saw that night had never left his mind, and
they continued to plague him every sleepless night he endured.

         Wiping away the tears, he shoved the small drawing into an empty peach jar filled with similar drawings he had compiled
over the months. This jar was carefully stowed away in a hidden compartment of his dresser. The jar served as his little reminder of his mother’s existence. As far as he was concerned, as long as the drawings stayed with him, she would never disappear from his memory.

         His father knocked on Gary’s bedroom door the instant Gary finished hiding his jar of drawings. “Hey Gary!” his father shouted. “Come out! I want you to meet someone!”

         “One second!” Gary replied hastily. He quickly rushed into his bathroom to wash his face, which he did to hide any evidence of his mourning, and once he had finished he quickly exited his white-walled bedroom into his equally white-walled living room where his tall, bald father was standing before the door.

         “I’d like for you to meet our new neighbor!” Gary’s father stated cheerily. Stepping aside, he revealed the presence of a black haired boy, just about Gary’s age, wearing a light black jacket, white cargo pants, and gray shoes. His body was well proportioned and of medium height, his facial expression warm and sympathetic. However, Gary’s attention was quickly captured by the boy’s eyes, filled with an eerie demeanor that Gary couldn’t specify.

         “He just arrived here a second ago,” Gary’s father explained. “Doesn’t even know which room he’s going to be staying in yet.”

         Gary glanced up at his father, but quickly refocused his attention on the boy’s eyes. Before Gary could dissect his thoughts, however, the boy noticed the staring and extended his hand out to Gary, a serene smile on his face. “Hi,” he stated calmly. “I’m Hayne. Hayne Rallens.”

         “Mines Gary Hydel,” Gary replied politely, taking Hayne’s hand and noting his strong grip.

         They stood, staring into each other’s eyes for a few awkward moments, attempting to pierce into the other’s mind. A quick cough from Gary’s father soon took both boys out of their staring contest, and in embarrassed haste both snapped their arms back alongside themselves.

         “Alright,” Gary’s father bellowed. “Guess we’ll be seeing you around, then?”

         “Yeah,” Hayne replied. “I better get my room number from
the landlord.”

         With that, Hayne waved a quick goodbye and departed down the stairs. Gary, in the meantime, continued staring at him, engrossed by the strange aura surrounding this new resident. He stood still in thought for some time after his father closed and locked the door.

         “Is something wrong?” Gary’s father asked.

         “No,” Gary answered softly. “Nothing.”

         His father shrugged and left for the kitchen, leaving Gary alone in the living room to think. He stood there for several minutes
yet the only conclusion he reached was that there was something odd about Hayne. Simply said, he didn’t trust him.

         The old grandfather clock near the kitchen suddenly rang, giving Gary quite a shock. Looking closer, he noticed that it was about time to prepare for his volunteer work. He silently slunk back
into his room to change, his thoughts about Hayne hanging around
in the back of his mind.

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         Later that evening, Gary sat down to a lovely meal prepared by his father. He had gone out earlier that day to help out at a local animal shelter, and after three hours of training and playing with the dogs he was quite tired and hungry. Once his
father was also seated at the table, Gary didn’t hesitate to help
himself to the creamy mashed potatoes and golden-skinned roast chicken before him. Before he could take his first bite, however, a
loud thud rang out from their ceiling, causing Gary and his father to look up in wonder.

         “Looks like Hayne found out what room he’s going to stay in,” Gary’s father stated jokingly. “He probably just moved a couch
or something.”

         Gary, unlike his father, wasn’t smiling. The distrustful mindset Gary had developed earlier hadn’t faded during his afternoon at the animal shelter, and this new disturbance only added another reason for Gary to dislike Hayne. Frowning, Gary sullenly dug his fork into the mashed potatoes and shoveled a small
heap into his mouth.

         Gary’s father noticed his son’s lack of interest, but another thud broke the silence before he could address Gary’s negligence.
Gary’s father looked at the ceiling, deep in thought.

         “Think he needs any help?” Gary’s father inquired.

         “He’ll be fine,” Gary’s abruptly retorted, refusing to look up from his plate. A helpless look appeared on his father’s face before he too dug into his meal. The silence was maintained throughout the rest of the meal.

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         That night, Gary couldn’t sleep. Insomnia had become almost an idiosyncrasy for him, yet somehow this night seemed different to Gary. The complex contraptions in his mind prodded away at the unwelcome sense he now maintained, thus causing it to dominate his mind as he lay motionless in bed.

         “That Hayne,” he muttered to himself as he stared into the dimly lit ceiling of his bedroom. “He’s going to be a nuisance. I just
know it.”

         His brows furrowed at the thought, flaring up the contempt he had for Hayne. He hated him with all his soul. Yet, he subconsciously knew that this hatred wasn’t justified. Although his mind refused to accept it, his heart understood that his fear and odium was clearly irrational, based on some provocation he was yet to identify.

         His thoughts irrelevantly shifted to those of his father. Gary
visualized the figure of his father, constantly joyous and lighthearted. If filled him with disgust, causing him to wonder just how his father manages to stay so naïve and blissful. As this disgust became clearer to him, Gary was suddenly hit with the realization that he hated his father as well.

         A final shift brought his mind to thoughts of his mother. He saw her standing next to him as he lay, her slender hand caressing his forehead as he slept. He saw her in all her glory, her
sympathetic brown eyes, her slightly short brown hair. He then saw
the colors of the freeway drama he experienced five months ago, the powerful hues of red and orange fire, the artificial blues and reds of the ambulance lights, and ultimately the red-stained white of his eyes when he saw himself in the hospital bathroom the night
she died…

         Tears once again flowed down his cheeks, a sensation that
he knew so well, yet one of insurmountable confusion and pain. He
allowed his emotions to flow out of him with each crystalline drop that trickled down his skin, letting the night know that his life was in ruins. Rolling over, he slowly cried himself to sleep.

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         For the next few days, Gary kept his eye on Hayne, observing all of his actions like a hawk targeting its prey. He watched Hayne from around corners, down from the balcony, or anywhere else he could find, and as far as he knew, he was doing
a swell job at keeping Hayne from noticing. Still, he could find nothing particularly suspicious about him, but he continued his sneaking anyway.

         He soon got to know Hayne’s day-to-day schedule very well, and Gary was actually quite astonished by how much he could do in one day. Every morning at eight, he’d leave his room and head for his job as a filer for the local newspaper. When he left work at six in the evening, he’d head for a small restaurant named “Marcello’s” and have a small meal before hailing a cab to the park for some jogging. Finally, he’d take a bus back to his apartment at eight. After that, however, Gary had no idea what he did. Therefore, what Hayne did during that time attracted most of Gary’s suspicions.

         One night a few weeks later, Gary was sent down to the first floor by his father to get some ice from the vendor. He casually exited his apartment, trudging down the stairs, when he ran into Hayne. He was holding a large cardboard box labeled “To Be Voided” in one arm, while the other held a pair of binders. He was wearing the exact same outfit he was wearing when
they first met, apart from a forest green backpack slung over his back. Gary noticed that Hayne was breathing rather heavily but had not broken a sweat, which he found rather odd.

         “What’s all that?” Gary finally asked.

         “Some stuff from work,” Hayne casually replied, never
taking his eyes off of Gary’s.

         “So much?” Gary inquired provocatively.

         “Yeah,” Hayne replied callously.

         Another moment of awkward staring ensued. This was the
first time they were ever alone together, Gary trying to seek fault, Hayne trying to figure out what Gary was seeking. Several minute passed before Hayne broke the silence.

         “Why do you follow me all the time?” Hayne asked taciturnly.

         This question thoroughly caught Gary off guard. “How did you know?” Gary inquired in astonishment.

         “Believe me,” Hayne retorted. “I can sense a lot more than
you think I can.”

         With that said, Hayne resumed his ascension up the stairs,
the wood thumping with each heavy step he took. Soon, he was out of sight, leaving Gary to figure out what he meant with his last statement. Gary simply couldn’t figure it out. How did he notice?

         The question continued to bother him as he reached the
bottom of the staircase and slipped a few quarters into the steadily
humming machine. Several of the chilly blocks dropped Gary’s ice
bucket, and once it was full he hauled the load back up the stairs to his room.

         Halfway up, he noticed a shiny object lying on one of the steps. Bending down, he noticed that it was an apartment key. Picking it up and dusting it off, he smiled mischievously when he noticed the print on the back reading “Rallens; spare”

         He sneered at the thought that Hayne lost his spare key.
He began to think of various malicious ways to make it very hard
for Hayne to get his key back, but after thinking about what his dad
would do he decided that it was best to just return the key. He dropped off the ice bucket at their apartment and immediately departed for Hayne’s room.

         The stairs to the third floor were old and creaky, the lights constantly flickering as if the power would go out at any second. Gary always disliked coming up there, was an assailant of some sort waiting to waylay him around each corner. He took slow, cautious steps, each creak and flicker adding to the suspense building in Gary’s mind. He finally reached the top and headed down the hall to Hayne’s room. Although he never asked directly, he pinpointed the location of Hayne’s room by finding the room right above his: #327.

         He stood in front of the door, feeling a strange foreboding as he looked at the old wooden door. He slowly balled his hands into a fist and raised it up to shoulder level. He held it there for a few uncertain seconds before proceeding to knock.

         He stopped his hand right before touching the door. He
thought about the current situation: he had a key to Hayne’s room,
Hayne was inside, and it was past eight P.M. The thought went through his mind, but he refused to carry it out. It was absurd thinking of sneaking into his room. He would get in a ton of trouble
and would earn the wrath of both his father and Hayne.

         On the other hand, if he caught Hayne doing something illegal, he could get Hayne in trouble and he’d be out of his life forever. Gary looked down at the key in his sweaty palm, then at
the door, then back at the key. As he went through the procedure
in his mind, it became more and more real. He finally gave in to temptation. He was going to do it.

         Hand trembling, he took the small brass key between his thumb and forefinger, bringing the key to the lock at an imperceptibly slow pace. When it finally reached the lock, he gently slid the key into the old socket, the excitement building with
each passing second. The key reached the end of the slot, and Gary proceeded to turn the key, listening carefully for the small click indicating the door was unlocked. All he had to do now was turn the handle and push, but the mixture of fear and adrenaline made doing so quite difficult. He finally steadied his hand and grasped the small golden doorknob. As the spherical projection turned slowly, he sought to figure out why on earth he was doing this, causing him to reassure himself that it would all be worth it in
the end.

         The door was now ready for Gary’s entrance. Gary took a
few deep breaths to calm down his nerves. Sweat rolled down his forehead, and his muscles grew tense. Finally, he was ready. He thrust his arm forward, flinging the door wide open, revealing the contents of room 327 to Gary in an instant. Before he could claim
triumph, however, he received the biggest shock of his life.

         He found himself staring into the gleaming golden eyes of a lupine head, covered in gray tufts of fur and topped off with two pointed ears. Below, Hayne’s black jacket and white cargos still concealed the majority of his body, but his hands now bore claws
and gray fur, and his feet were now those of a wolf. The intimidating seven-foot tall figure was completed with a long bushy
tail, hanging off the edge of the seat Hayne now sat on.

         Gary instantly responded with an explosive reaction. He flew backwards into the hall, hyperventilating as he tripped over the
rug and slammed into the back wall. He attempted to release a scream, but found Hayne’s hand capped firmly over his mouth.

         “Get in here,” Hayne commanded nervously. Gary was forcibly dragged into Hayne’s room, unable to contend with Hayne’s enormous strength. Hayne kicked the door closed as he
literally carried Gary into his living room.

         Gary yells were muffled by the soft fur on Hayne’s hands,
but he managed to free himself from Hayne’s grip just long enough
to deliver a hard bite. With a surprised yell, Hayne’s hand reflexively drew away, allowing Gary to retreat to the bookshelves at the back of the room.

         “I knew there was something wrong with you!” Gary
shouted in defiant panic. “I just knew it!”

         “Calm down,” Hayne reasoned with Gary, making a slight
downwards gesture with his hands.

         His reasoning fell on deaf ears, which became clearly apparent to him as Gary grasped a short section of PVC pipe from
the corner and made a rush at him. In defense, he caught the plastic tube in his jaws, ripping it out of Gary’s hands and dropping it onto a beige sofa. As he did so, Gary got a long unobstructed view of Hayne’s pearly white fangs.

         Like most people would, Gary’s panic suddenly spiked as a
result, sending him into an uncontrollable trembling as he tried desperately to back away. Hayne placed his hand on his face, growling softly with frustration.

         “Stay away from me!” Gary yelled repeatedly, his voice trembling slightly from fear. Hayne ignored his commands, gently but firmly covering his mouth once again and faintly whispering reassurances to him.

         “It’s okay,” he murmured soothingly. “I promise I won’t hurt
you.”

         Somehow, his words sank in and Gary calmed down, no longer trembling or yelling. Hayne uncovered Gary’s mouth and stepped back slowly, allowing Gary to recuperate himself

         “I knew there was something wrong about you,” Gary
muttered spitefully.

         “Want something to drink?” Hayne offered irrelevantly,
strolling towards the kitchen.

         “No one else noticed,” Gary continued. “But I sure did.”

         “How about some milk or water?” Hayne suggested.

         “I was right to suspect something about you,” Gary
retorted.

         “How about a cough drop?” Hayne inquired, grabbing a pack from a nearby coffee table and holding it out to Gary. “Your
throat probably hurts after all that screaming.”

         “Oh, don’t give me that!” Gary exclaimed in a sudden explosion of rage, knocking the cough drops from Hayne’s hands.
“You’re not the innocent little boy everyone thinks you are! You’re
just a… a…”

         “Go on,” Hayne provocatively cut in. “It doesn’t bother me when people call me a werewolf.”

         Gary glared at him. “How can you take something like this
so lightly?” he snapped.

         “Is it really that big of a crime?” Hayne probed coolly.

         Gary attempted to find a reply, but the words eluded him. He stood where he was, deep in thought, trying to find a plausible
reason to say “yes”, but nothing came to mind. It made him wonder why he was making such a big deal over it after all…

         Hayne, evidently pleased by the silence, took a seat on a chair in front of his stack of VOID papers and continued working as if Gary wasn’t there. Gary noticed this and frowned.

         “So,” he began. “Why do you try to conceal your identity during the day?”

         “It causes less trouble,” Hayne replied without looking up from his papers. “Well, that is until you came along.”

         Gary glanced off to the side with an annoyed expression, but put it aside and continued his interrogation. “Well, why don’t you just use your disguise all the time?”

         Hayne scoffed. “You don’t know how tiring it is to do that for twelve hours straight,” he explained.

         “Oh,” Gary mumbled. He stood there for several minutes, watching Hayne work. Hayne tried to ignore his presence, but it finally got to him.

         “Shouldn’t you be back downstairs?” he probed. “Your father’s probably wondering where you are.”

         Gary glanced at a clock above Hayne’s desk, noticing that
he had been here for over half an hour. “That’s true,” he replied thoughtfully.

         Hayne stood up and walked past him, the woodsy sent of his fur filling the air. Reaching the door, he unlocked it and pushed
it open.

         “Well,” he stated. “Here you are.”

         Gary cautiously walked past Hayne, looking at him through
the corners of his eyes until he stood outside in the hall.

         “Before you go,” Hayne suddenly brought up, extending his hand out to him. “I’d like my key back.”

         Realizing that it was still resting in his pocket, Gary took it out and placed it in Hayne’s hand. Hayne bid Gary farewell and closed the door, leaving Gary alone in the hallway.

         Gary slowly began the walk down to his apartment, pondering on what he should do now. Half of his mind kept telling him to do the obvious choice, yet the other half reminded him of the point Hayne brought up earlier. He still hadn’t decided when he
reached his room and unlocked the door. As he stepped in, he saw his father sitting in the living room, looking in his direction.
         “Where have you been?” he asked without any sign of anger.

         Gary delayed his reply for a few seconds and then replied,
“I was just talking to Hayne.”

         “You should have told be first,” his father explained. “Oh, well. No harm done. Goodnight son.”

         “Goodnight,” he whispered almost imperceptibly as his father headed for the bedroom. He stood alone in the large white room, wondering why he didn’t tell.

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         Starting the next day, Gary began visiting Hayne regularly, knocking politely instead of sneaking in. There, they talked about various things, mostly about what it was like being a werewolf, but sometimes about their own personal lives. As each meeting passed, Gary slowly grew to enjoy Hayne’s company.

         He learned that Hayne first discovered his werewolf side ten years ago as a kindergarten student and that he was wise enough to keep it a secret from even his closest relations. He lived
a normal life for the next six years until both his parents died in a freak boating accident. After that, he supported himself by obtaining a work license from the mayor and taking up random jobs. The filer position he now held was his first steady income job,
thus providing him with enough money to live in a real home.

         Gary was astonished by how freely Hayne spoke of his
life. He spoke of even his most morbid moments without hesitation.
Gary, on the other hand, never had the courage to talk about anything between now and five months ago. He felt like a coward…

         A week or so later, Gary stopped by Hayne’s room again to invite him over for lunch. It was his own idea, openly welcomed by his father, and sure enough Hayne had the next day off, providing him with the time to attend the lunch. As the time between
the then and the lunch appointment passed, Gary thought about telling Hayne about his darkest hour, but his mind kept rejecting the idea.

         Finally, it was noon the next day, and Gary anxiously awaited Hayne’s arrival in the living room. He paced back and forth, wondering if he’d show up or not, when the shrill chimes of the doorbell filled the house. Almost instantly, Gary answered the door and greeted Hayne, who was using his human disguise.

         “How have you been doing?” Gary asked after letting
Hayne into the living room.

         “Pretty good,” Hayne replied. “How about you?”

         “Same here,” Gary answered, although that wasn’t entirely
true.

         Hayne scented the air, grinning at the smell of fresh pot roast. “Mmmm… Lunch smells pretty good,” he complimented.

         “It’s my father’s secret recipe,” Gary elaborated. He offered Hayne a seat as his mind continued debating over whether
or not he should reveal his past to Hayne. Before any more conversation could take place, his father called them both into the kitchen for lunch.

         Across the table, Gary saw that Hayne was evidently pleased with his lunch, wolfing (pun, lol) it down with intense satisfaction. Gary, meanwhile, found it impossible to fully enjoy his meal while his inner arguments continued to plague him. He ate slowly, drawing the attention of his father, who gave him a quick worried glance. Gary looked down at his plate, finally ending his internal debate with a solid decision.

         After lunch, Gary intercepted Hayne in the living room. His father was washing dishes, so he wouldn’t bother them as they talked.

         “Hayne,” Gary sullenly began. “I want to talk to you in my room.”

         “Sure,” Hayne replied.

         “It’s something really important,” Gary specified. “Well, it is
to me.”

         Hayne understood the seriousness of the situation and solemnly accepted once again.

         Gary led Hayne into his plain white room, closing the door behind him. As he brought up a chair for Hayne to sit on, he said,

         “You can release your disguise now.”

         Hayne’s figure slowly morphed, his head elongating, his fingernails turning into claws, and his lower body turning into that of a lycanthrope.

         “So that’s what it looks like,” Gary stated irrelevantly.

         Hayne nodded. “But that’s not why you wanted to talk to me, right?” he inquired.

         Gary shook his head. “I have something to show you.”

         He strolled up to his dresser, removing a few layers of clothing before finding the secret compartment. Hayne left his seat
to watch, observing Gary as he turned the small latch and lifted away the plank, revealing the large glass jar.

         Gary solemnly took out the jar, seating himself on the bed.
As if in a ritual, he cautiously unscrewed the cap and poured out the contents.

         “What are these?” Hayne asked with an interested tone.

         “They’re doves,” he muttered, spreading them evenly on the bedspread. “I draw them all the time because they’re my mother’s special birds.”

         “I haven’t met you mother yet,” Hayne noted thoughtfully.

         “That’s because she’s no longer with us,” Gary explained sorrowfully.

         Hayne’s expression instantly softened. “You mean…”

         “Yes.”

         All at once, Gary told the story of his mother’s death. He told Hayne everything, from the initial accident to how she perished in the hospital room to how he had begun drawing all the
doves, all the while allowing his pent up emotions to escape. Hayne sat quietly as he listened, paralleling Gary’s story with his own. As Gary finished, a long period of serene silence ensued.

         “Is this why you cry every night?” Hayne inquired, breaking the silence.

         Gary’s head snapped up, looking at Hayne straight in the eye. “How did you…?”

         His answer came with a quick flick of an ear. Silence fell for another minute.

         “It’s not healthy living like this,” Hayne stated. “It’s not natural suffering every day of your life.”

         “I can’t help it,” Gary replied. “I can’t get her out of my mind.”

         “That’s because you refuse to,” Hayne explained. He took one of the drawings in his hands. “You try to make sure you never forget, but you’re really just destroying you life one pencil stroke at
a time.”

         Gary didn’t answer. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It filled him with anger to think that someone was telling
him to forget about his mother.

         “What do you know?” he suddenly burst, seething with anger. “You’re just a werewolf!”

         “So I’m a werewolf,” Hayne replied firmly. “Big deal. You
might not understand, but I’m really not all that different from anyone else. I live my life the way anyone else would, and I’m proud of who I am.”

         Gary leaned over, tearing softly.

         “You’ve lost your pride,” Hayne continued. “Just because
you allow your past to get in the way of your life.”

         “I just want to make sure I remember her,” Gary sniveled.

         Leaning closer to Gary, Hayne took Gary’s face in his hands and held it up.

         “If you really remember her,” he stated solemnly. “You don’t need to.”

         He left Gary sitting on his bed, standing up and
transforming back to his human form. “I need to go.” Hayne
explained. He strolled out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Gary could hear his father saying goodbye, followed by the closing
of their front door as Hayne returned to his room.

         Gary sat for some time, staring down at his drawings. His mind sorted itself out, trying to comprehend everything Hayne had
said in the last five minutes. He thought about his mother, then about the crash, then about his drawings. He noticed how he let his sorrow control his life and how it turned him against himself. He
realized then just how broken he had become.

         He stared at the clear glass door leading to the balcony, then down at the drawings once again. His brow furrowed in fiery
determination. He knew he was broken, but he also knew he wasn’t
beyond repair.

         Gary clutched the small pile of drawings in his hands, taking slow somber steps to the balcony door. He stepped out into the cool serenity of the afternoon. The sky was clear, and a strong
breeze blew towards the overpass where the ill-fated accident occurred. He stared down at the every-busy freeway, his complex mind finally coming to terms with itself. With a sense of achievement and a small smile, he released his drawings into the wind, watching then soar away out of his life as his doves took flight for their first time.

THE END