“If other ranking members don’t find the leadership suitable, they can contest for the position, beginning with the acting leader she appointed before she died.”
“What acting leader?” Seth had a sinking feeling he knew the answer already.
“Dustin Livingston, the town doctor. Of course, rather than oppose you openly, any ambitious member of the passel might try to sweet-talk you into coleadership.”
Oh, yes, Mr. Dustin Livingston, MD. Just wait until the next time I lay eyes on you!Seth staggered out of the mansion-turned-officecomplex recalling flowers, chocolates, and casino plans, burdened by more questions and having received far too few answers.
SETHparked the truck in the empty parking lot of the First Baptist Church of Possum Kingdom, staring up at the cross-bearing steeple he recalled from his youth. The ancient structure didn’t appear nearly as bleak and oppressing at it had to his eight-year-old self. He bypassed the building and opened the wrought iron gate leading to the cemetery. Tiny white pebbles crunched under his tennis shoes.
He started near the back, with stones time-blackened and names barely discernible. Through a layer of patina on a towering obelisk, he made out an etched “Braden Calhoun McDaniel.” The elaborate stone listed the date of death as 1792. Pride welled somewhere deep inside Seth, and amazement at being a part of an illustrious family. A mere two months ago loneliness and isolation had ruled his life. He moved on, the decay of years lessening the closer he came to the church. How many more generations would pass before the cemetery reached its limit? At last he found what he’d been searching for, the stones of Aaron and Brenda Hynes McDaniel. How young they’d been when they’d died, scarcely older than Seth’s current age.
“Hi, Mom, hi, Dad,” he began, emotion choking back the things he’d planned to say if he’d ever gotten the chance. He dropped to his knees, idly picking at weeds around the headstone. “Dustin told me you’re not really here, but buried somewhere around the pond. I wanted to come say hello anyway.”
At a loss for appropriate sentiment, he merely said, “Hello,” opening his heart and hoping some inner voice might answer him. Nothing came. Freshly turned earth marked the plot next to his parents’ grave, where a sparkling white granite stone proclaimed: Irene McDaniel, Beloved Leader. Who’d ordered the stone? Dustin? Monica? For a moment, Seth felt kinship with those who’d mourned the lady’s loss when he himself hadn’t been there to do his part.
A panicked cry of “Saxon! Get back here!” broke the silence.
Seth glanced up at the terrifying vision of a horse-sized dog barreling straight for him, trailing a leash and an out-of-breath woman. Fear like he’d never known glued Seth to the spot.
He’d rallied together enough brain cells to process “Great Dane” before he fainted or… something, without fully losing consciousness. Every muscle in his body seized. Seth flopped helplessly to his side. A wet tongue slathered the side of his face.
“I’m sorry,” the woman said, physically hauling the monster away. “I’m keeping him for a friend, and he’s kinda strong.”
Seth opened one eye to discover himself curled on the ground in a fetal position, heart pounding. What the fuck? He liked dogs. Well…. He saw the lolling pink tongue from below and his head went swimmy again. Make that, heusedto like dogs.
The lady extended a hand. Ping-ponging his gaze from the dog to her outstretched hand, Seth replied, “I’d like to stay here a bit longer, if you don’t mind.”
“Suit yourself. I really am sorry. I told my friend keeping Saxon in Possum Kingdom wasn’t a good idea.”
The woman strolled away, pulling on the dog’s leash. Seth started to rise, but then the massive anvil with ears’ head swiveled back his way and he felt faint again.
“You’ll get used to it,” he heard a deep voice say. “In time, you’ll hardly even flinch.”
Seth rolled over, spying an elderly couple a few feet away, placing flowers on a grave. A spirit of connection settled over him again. Emboldened, he ventured, “Thanks, jack.”
“Don’t mention it, jack,” the man replied.
Still shaken, Seth climbed to his feet, brushing off bits of gravel and dried grass. On the way back to his aunt’s truck, he spotted a playground: swings, a seesaw, and a jungle gym. He aimed his feet toward the parking lot; they carried him toward the jungle gym.
Before he realized his own intent, he found himself hanging upside down from the metal structure by his knees, strangely comfortable.
“Those urges will pass too,” the man he’d just met said, moseying by on the path. “Usually only joeys do that.”
The woman with him smiled and stopped, patting Seth’s arm. “Welcome to the family,” she said before tottering off.
The upside-down position did have its merits, Seth decided. His back felt better than it had in weeks. He remained hanging bottom side up, enjoying the afternoon sun, until his belly rumbled again, reminding him lunchtime had long since passed. Once more his thoughts went to Dustin, but the moment he recalled the attorney’s words about a possible challenge, and possible pursuit for political gain, the budding fondness grew cold. Was Dustin playing him to get the land?
Seth climbed down from the jungle gym, its bright red-andyellow paint failing to cheer him. Shuffling along the walkway, he caught a whiff of something delicious. He followed his keen sense of smell to the main street and found a blackboard in the window of Betty’s Diner across the way that announced “Today’s special: fried chicken.”
The couple from the cemetery, along with a man, woman, and teenaged girl, wandered up, sniffing the breeze. The moment Seth stepped from the curb, a car came around the corner. All six of them froze in place, only reanimating once the car passed. “Sadly, the inborn fear of cars never quite goes away,” said the man he’d encountered in the cemetery.
THATnight Seth passed through the house, turning off lights and preparing for bed. His eyes fell on the notebook he’d found in the attic, what he now believed must be his mother’s journal and not a made-up story. He fixed himself a cup of cocoa and trotted off to bed to read. After a few pages, he found his name.
I wish I’d been turned before having Seth. Some of the townsfolk call him an outcast. Irene says when he grows older, he’ll show them.
A few pages later he read,I’ve asked Aaron to bite me…and further down the same page, I’m told I turned last night, but I don’t remember. Irene says in time I’ll keep my human mind in animal form. Aaron said I ate earthworms. Earthworms! Yuck!
Page after page chronicled his mother’s adventures. It broke his heart to read,My mother won’t talk to me. She won’t even answer the phone when I call.Circular stains dotted the page. Seth reverently stroked his fingers over the tiny round circles, heart clenched tight. His mother’s tears?
