CHAPTER TWELVE
MEETING PETERSON MCGUIRE
Life came in phases. And no one knew this better than Marie Jones. She had grown up taking care of herself all her life rather than being taken care of. At a tender age, she was forced to be an adult. Taking responsibility for the things that happened in the home. She knew none of her relatives. She had only grown to know just one of her parents; her mother. The other parent was none existent. There was no talking about him either. Any mention of her father threw her mother into bouts of depression. And she was a drunk and a gambler.
The few who knew her mother when she was young claimed she was a sweet gal. Someone different from the woman Marie had known all her life. The woman who births her was prone to gambling and drinking. She spent all her days working only to squander it at night. Her drinking habit went from bad to worse, and so did her gambling. But the woman they described from the past was sweet, responsible, caring, and the best daughter.
The sudden change, they said, happened when she got pregnant. How pregnancy ruined some people. Of course, she needed no further proof. She was an unwanted child. Not that her mother ever said it. Instead, she found traces of it in her reactions to her. The woman barely spoke to her anyway. She replied with grunts.
Somedays, she came home happy. On those days, there would be chicken and soup to eat. And she could be the best loving mother ever. Days like that made Marie imagine what the single version of her mother would have been like. Well, she could only imagine.
Sometimes, when her mother came home in a bad state, she blamed her father, not herself. Though people hinted she was the reason her mother turned out that way, she laid that fault on him. If he had been responsible, he would have stayed to cater for her. "Perhaps, mother wouldn't have been so sad and sour," she was prone to say.
As a young child, barely eight years, Marie learned to fend for herself. She would steal her mother's money to pay bills, tuition, feeding, anything. She never lacked a thing. Unless, of course, there was no money to take. Because a few times, her mother came home with nothing. The poor girl would have to go to bed hungry that night. That meant someone had ransacked her mother while she had been out gambling in her drunken state. That, or she lost everything in her bets. What stupid, stupid game.
To help herself, Marie would take enough money to last her a week. Sometimes before that finished, if she saw any other luck coin, she would take it and keep it. Then she would spend it little by little on food and other things she needed. Her mother never knew her money was missing. Neither did the little girl speak about her needs to her mother. She was never in the right mood to listen anyway.
And that was how poor Marie lived. Until the money stopped. Her mother came home drunk most nights but brought nothing. Marie didn't mind at first. She had a stash. But the money started dwindling. And nothing was coming in. That was when she became worried. She didn't understand what to do or what was happening. Her mother still goes out in the morning and comes back drunk in the night. But there would be no money.
She tried asking her, but like always, her mother wasn't coherent. So, the girl became a detective, following her mother everywhere. That was how she met the man. No, the wolf. At first, Marie wasn't sure she was seeing right. Her mother was seeing a man. And the man was the one stealing her money. She had no proof, but she was sure that was it.
One evening, Marie stalked her mother yet again. Her day had started as just any ordinary day. She closed from the store where she worked, changed, and stepped out. It was the first time fifteen-year-old Marie would be seeing her mother in broad daylight. She was normal. Her mood was okay. And she did look like she had a handle on things. Why then does she go drinking?She pondered on this as she tiptoed behind her mother. She would later find the answer to this question.
Right now, her mother had just branched a bar. Marie watched the time. It was barely 8p.m when her mother went in. She stayed outside, waiting. While she waited, she watched several people waltz in the bar. They were mostly men. A man, in particular, made her stand. He had a golden chain similar to the one her mother had.
Looking at the man quizzically, she darted after him. He entered the bar, and she made to enter too, to see his face. "I.D, please," the security detail blocked her from going in. Stepping back, she went to take her seat behind the door. The view here was good. She could see the back view of her mother but not the people sitting with her. She could watch the street while pretending not to be interested in what was going on inside the bar. Thankfully, she had brought company. While waiting, she treated herself to some tacos. By the time she was done, she felt sleepy.
Marie stood and yawned tiredly. She turned around to recheck her mother. As she did, she saw the golden wristwatch again. The man was sitting around her mother. She couldn't see him, but the hand was his.
"Is she the man she's seeing?" she asked herself. The sleep disappeared instantly. That man! Fetching some nylons from her pocket, she brought out something better to keep her awake. Popping some gum in her mouth, the girl started parading the entrance. Because it was pointless going through the security detail, she made sure she was on alert. They would come out through this door, and she would be ready. For close to two hours or so, they were still there.
Tired, she sat back down. In her mind, she played games to keep her busy. The solitaire was some games she enjoyed. And she liked scrabble too. She played a few of those two in her head until she was bored again. Marie peeped again, running out of games to play to keep her awake. This time, she scrambled to her feet. Her mother was being dragged out. "She's drunk," she said, hiding securely behind the door.
As she watched, the man with the golden wristwatch held her mother. "Please don't let them take a cab," she prayed. She might lose them if they do. Thankfully, it appeared the man was taking her somewhere quiet. She waited until the man who held her was afar before following. The two walked a brief distance before they entered a hut. Marie stood outside, unsure it was okay to go in with them. "Would mom understand?" she asked, thinking of her mother even in her distraught state.
She began pacing, willing herself to come up with a good excuse to dash in there. What could a teenager say for bumping into a man and a drunk woman in a room, alone? Can she fend for herself, and her mother against some strong-looking man if it was a danger zone? Lots of questions and scenarios raced through her young mind.
Suddenly, she heard a scream. And it was definitely her mother's. Marie forgot about looking for the perfect excuse and ran inside before knowing what she was doing. And therein laid the most shocking moment of her life.
Her mother lay on the floor. In the room with her were two rabid dogs. There was no sign of the wristwatch man. All she saw on the floor were clothes. And is that blood? She squealed as she watched her mother closely. One of the dogs stood on top of her mother. His mouth had bloodstains. And he snarled at the girl. These were no ordinary dogs. They were big and bad-looking. And their skin colors were off. While one was brown, a confusingly grey-brown. The other looked black. Shiny black. She had never seen anything like them before. The one standing over her mother jumped off her and attacked the other.
Marie started to shake in fear. She coiled to a corner as the two dogs circled each other in anger. She could see she had entered a battlefield from their stance and mean looks. There was one in particular that glared at her. And he was the one she had met atop her mother when she first walked in. As the dogs circled, they ignored her. Knowing she had little time, she tried waking her mother up.
Her mother stayed drunken and passed out on the floor. She could see her chest bleeding. Grabbing a cloth, she pressed it to the wound. Staring, she wondered why the wound looked like a bite mark. instantly, she glared at the dog, watching her with mad eyes. "You did this," she muttered, somehow knowing the dog did it.
When she heard a whimper, she turned around shakily. The other dog who had been fighting off the one over her mother ran out weakly. It was bleeding badly. Oh, he lost, Marie wailed inwardly. Who would protect us now? "Mom?" she called, shaking her mother vigorously. But she wouldn't wake. Then the dog started walking toward them. Marie moved back in fear, shaking and crying.
"Oh, relax."
Marie looked at the dog that was beginning to transform. Wait, he's not a dog. She sat back up. What the fvck? Watching, the dog that was now entirely transformed into a human, she screamed. The man ran to cover her mouth. Marie shook her head vigorously, unsure which was more dangerous; the mean-looking or the man. She could see the ripples of his muscle from his bare skin covering her mouth.
"Relax, okay. Don't scream," the man warned. "I will snap your neck if you do," when she nodded that she understood, he let her go. "It's not what you think you saw." He said to the girl. Would she understand ever? He asked his wolf. The girl now watched, eyes popping almost.
"You're a human-dog?" she asked shakily; all the while, she stirred her mother, willing her to wake up.
Peterson McGuire scoffed then. "I'm not…." He stopped and corrected himself. "We're not dogs. We're wolves. Werewolves."
As he spoke, all Marie saw was the wristwatch on his hand. He was the man who had lured her mother here. He was the dog, no, the wolf that had been standing over her mother with a bloodied nose. He couldn't be trusted. And as he explained what he was; a werewolf, she swore never to let him harm her family again. Even if she doesn't know how. She didn't even know things like him existed. Her mind conjured up the images of those dogs earlier. Those were wolves! She gasped. But this wasn't the time to be awed. He was the man who had been robbing her mother. He was the reason she couldn't have a decent meal. Grabbing her drunken mother, she started to run.
Later, Marie would discover the wolf-man was Peterson McGuire. And she knew she would never forget that name. Neither would she forget how he had ruined her mother's life as well as hers. That night, he had taken them home and left a bale of money for her mother's treatment. Something had been done to her mother that night. Something unforgivable. Her mother never recovered from it. She was taken to the best of hospitals for treatment. Yet, she didn't regain her composure. It was only once in a month when she was normal again. And that once, she drunk herself to stupor, obviously trying to block every memory she had of that night.
Peterson paid for everything since then. He had acquired so much wealth and the Jones were the recipient. At least her mother was. Struggling, she had sent herself to school and graduated top of the class in her culinary school without taking a dime from McGuire. Although, all those years, he continued to take care of her mother. Marie was sure that was to clear his conscience of what he did to her mother.
Now, she could take of her mother on her own way. And just when she was getting a handle of it, her mother had to fall into another of her bouts. And she had done so in the most annoying way, bringing the wolf-man back into their lives. She had someone been able to free herself from the claws of Peterson McGuire years back. But life had thrown her back on his radar. And this time, she could at least fend for herself and her mother. Yes, life happened in phases. No one knew this better than Marie Jones. This was another phase. It was going to have to pass, and quickly too.