Shadow Side Up

By SCE Swayne

Pale dawn light slanted through the windows when I arrived at the Full Moon Diner. Even this early, the place smelled like stale grease and burnt coffee.

Only four tables were occupied. An old man sitting in one corner, his face haggard. A young couple holding hands. A neat-haired man reading a thick book in what looked like Hebrew, sunlight reflecting off his glasses. A scruffy kid—early twenties at most—he stood out. Dirt smudged his unshaven face, and bits of leaves clung to his torn flannel shirt.

The kid jumped when I sat down across from him, hand tightening on his fork like I might take it from him. Steak and eggs were heaped high on his plate.

I snorted. “Protein’s a good idea, but carbs would be better. You need something that processes quickly to get your energy back up.” He couldn’t see my eyes through my aviators, but I glared anyway. “Besides, didn’t you have enough meat last night?”

His eyes widened, pupils so dilated the irises almost disappeared. That side effect wouldn’t fade for a few hours yet.

The waitress stopped by, carrying a mug and a coffee pot. The bright red of her trim uniform and the bounce of her high ponytail were almost as appetizing as the rich aroma of the coffee she’d poured for me. “Pancakes, Tessa,” I said before she could reach for her pad. “And keep them coming until I say to stop.”

Tessa shook her head as she headed to the kitchen. I wasn’t her most eccentric regular, but I certainly ranked.

“Who are you?” the kid blurted, his voice high with fear. “What do you think you know?”

“Name’s Hunter.” I took a long drink of black coffee, relaxing as it washed away the last of the rotten taste in my mouth. Floss and gum could only do so much. “Don’t look so surprised that I tracked you down. You haven’t been subtle. Deer are fine, but livestock are different, and pets are never acceptable. Even as sloppy as you’ve been, I might not have gotten onto you except for the hellhound. Vampires use them to guard their homes, and the old man was understandably upset to find his beloved pet of nearly three centuries gutted and devoured in his backyard.” I pulled a notepad and pen from my leather jacket. “The only thing strong enough to kill a hellhound is a werewolf, and the only thing dumb enough is a new werewolf. How long, and how did you turn?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed. I guessed he hadn’t gotten used to thinking of himself that way yet. “Four months… and I wish I knew. I was at a party, and my skin started burning. I woke up in the woods. I thought I’d been drugged. But—” He swallowed again. “The next night, it happened again. I remembered it that time.”

My pancakes arrived, and I drowned them in syrup before continuing. “Let me guess—you’ve been at war with the beast within ever since, trying to banish it like the monster under your bed? Waste of effort. You need to find a balance with it.”

I dug into my pancakes. Bliss. Still hot, the salty butter giving depth to the extreme sweetness of the syrup. How could the kid look at steak and eggs when pancakes were available?

“How can you be so casual?” he hissed.

I shrugged. “If you’re not trying to eradicate the wolf, there are plenty of things you can do to make it easier. Remember that transforming burns a lot of calories. Load up before you turn so you don’t go feral from hunger. Carry baby wipes in your car so you can clean up after. Spare clothes, too, including shoes. You’d be surprised how easy it is to lose your shoes.”

He looked away. “No, I wouldn’t.”

I smirked.

“You can live with the wolf without feeling its burden. You just have to remember what you’re living for. Look around.” I gestured to the other patrons. “The old man’s had a long life. The scholar follows his intellectual passions. The couple is deliriously in love. Being werewolves hasn’t stopped any of them.”

The kid’s eyes widened in surprise, but who else would be in the Full Moon Diner this early? He had so much to learn.

“Sure, life has suffering,” I went on. “But that’s true for everyone. You’re going to have to accept that. And you have to learn to live with your shadow side. If you keep trying to ignore it or push it away, you’ll lose control. You’ll lash out and hurt everyone.”

He glowered at me, like the suffering inherent to existence was my fault.

“See the waitress?”

At my nod, his gaze turned to the counter. He saw her, all right. I could hear his racing heartbeat.

“Pretty, isn’t she? Pretty and human. Her life has suffering, too. And if you keep running wild like this, you’ll add to the suffering of people like her.”

“What makes you such an expert?” he snapped, shoulders hunching forward. So defensive. So young.

“I had an old-fashioned teacher. Experience.” I flipped my notepad to a blank page and slid it across the table. “Write down the date and address of that party. If a werewolf there was sloppy enough to share a cup with a human, I need to figure out who it was. Lycanthropy is a little more serious than mono.”

Tessa brought a fresh stack of pancakes while he wrote, bless her. She really was pretty. “Thank you kindly, darlin’.”

She shot me a smile as she cleared my empty plate away, and I lowered my aviators to give her a wink in return. She started at my dilated eyes, but didn’t say anything. I wasn’t the strangest thing she’d see on her shift.

Werewolves blend right in at the Full Moon Diner.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

SCE Swayne is a one-time NaNoWriMo winner, many times hopeful. SCE (pronounced like a sneeze) lives in Ohio, where she scrubs people’s feet for a living. Her free time is divided between nail art, because as a millennial she gets a sense of validation from the attention of strangers on social media, and binge watching whatever drivel Netflix deigned to suggest this week. She has one cat, but give her time.

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