Full Moon Farce (part 2 of 3)
If you missed Part 1, read it here!
The cloud cover made the spring day chillier than expected. Sean ran a hand over his buzz cut hair waiting on his first expert in the magical community within Plunkett. He sat on a loveseat with blue corduroy faded with age. The Fair Folk Cafe was a cozy coffee shop located on the cobblestone laid walking mall portion of Old Town Plunkett. The decor was indicative of fairy aesthetics and felt like an homage to Lisa Frank’s rainbow of vibrant colors.
The owner, Marie St. Fairchild, returned from the counter to the loveseat by the window, a mug of black coffee in one hand and a paper cup of something foamed and hand crafted in the other. She didn’t sit as much as floated down to the seat. Marie was a tall woman, with a fashion sense that combined corporate business with Willy Wonka. She carefully moved a blonde curl from her forehead, sipped her coffee, then told Sean “You are truly an asshole, Mr Houston.”
Sean choked on his coffee, hot liquid hurtling into his throat. As he gagged and coughed, tearing up from the heat Marie dressed Sean down for a good five minutes. By the time she was wrapping up Sean and painfully sipped half of his coffee.
“…and furthermore, Mr. Houston, I think this baseles accusation of one of America’s favorite cryptids is wholesale slander.” Marie halted her speech to take another sip of coffee. When Sean was able to speak clearly he did so in a standard Sean Houston way.
“I didn’t know royalty from the Spring Court spoke like that.”
Marie looked out the window. “This ‘Nature’ realm of yours has more…grit than the Fey realm. You pick up a few things.”
“Including an admiration of Sasquatch?”
“Mr. Houston,” Marie looked at Sean, her eyes seemingly every color at once, a hint at her faerie heritage. “I can tell you, without a hint of doubt, this was not a sasquatch.”
“I agree. The only one I know of lives in Lebanon, Oregon.” Sean pulled the tuft of fur from his pocket, now in a ziplock bag, and he placed it on the coffee table. “Any idea what creature this fur belongs to?” Sean slurped his coffee.
With her forefinger and thumb, Maire picked up the bag by touching as little as possible. She squinted at the bag, dropped on the table, resumed her posh pose.
“Werewolf.”
Sean sighed. “Marie, the only werewolves in town live in that trailer park off Route 50. Easily thirty miles away. Plus they don’t mess with locals. They’re from Appalachia, they consider us all locals.”
“You’re certainly not the sleuth your father was.” Marie looked at Sean pointedly, making eye contact. Sean clenched his jaw and looked at the oak floor, letting Marie continue. “He would keep migration patterns of any major threats, including lone wolves that would wander through, cause trouble, then leave.”
“Marie-”
“Mr. Houston, you are being awfully familiar, yes?”
Sean felt the eyes of the entire staff looking their way. All beautiful young women, all with some bright color hair dye in their hair, suddenly looking less human and more like their Fey roots, eyes fully black and teeth sharper than normal. Sean rubbed the stubble on his chin.
“Mar-Mrs, Ms, ugh, one sec.” Sean gulped a mouthful of hot, bitter coffee. the intense flavor he insisted on, did it’s job and he was able to focus. “I don’t have the resources to track that shi-er, stuff. Where am I supposed to get that information? Help me out here, please.”
In a single fluid motion, Marie was standing, her back straight and her chin up. Sean knew this meant she was asking him to leave. As Sean stood Marie leaned in, whispering barely audible even for Sean.
“You don’t have your father’s resources, but you have your own, Sean. Perhaps you give your trailer park friends a visit.”
Sean felt himself blush bright red as he left the coffee shop. The cool spring air a welcome change. He walked to his car, making a note to stop by Walgreens on the way.
Sean blew his nose, the sound drowned out by revving dirt bikes twenty feet away. He was at “Camp Paradise Trailer Park” just off Route 50, colloquially known as the ‘Trailer Park Pound’ due to the congregation of werewolves that lived there. The park was surrounded by coniferous trees, the air was nearing chilly with no sun breaking through the thick cover of pine needles. The dirt road that ran through the trailer park were lined with tires buried half in the ground to serve as bumpers. Every trailer had either a lifted pickup truck or dirt caked Jeep parked haphazardly nearby.
Sean observed a lot of mullets, Nascar merchandise, ripped denim, and tufts of werewolf fur. This wasn’t a surprise for people of Appalachia or a pack of lycanthropes. There were a couple of toddlers mid transformation, looking like baby versions of Lon Cheny’s Wolfman playing in dirt and with plastic toys. Woman chain smoking were playing with them.
The screen door to the trailer Sean was standing near slammed open, and a buff man holding a plastic Pepsi bottle in one hand and the baggie of wolf fur in the other emerged. He wore a sleeveless shirt depicting Led Zepplin’s winged Apollo logo, clean fitted blue jeans, and heavy duty work boots. Ernest “Ernie” Holcomb was the Alpha werewolf for the Trailer Park Pound. Ernest spit some dip into his Pepsi bottle while holding up the baggie.
“Yeah bud, this here is wolf fur.”
Sean sighed audibly. “Yeah Ernie, I was wondering if you knew WHOSE it was.”
“Well, shit bud, you think all werewolves know each other? That ain’t cool, Sean.”
“No, I don’t-” Sean was cut off by Ernie slapping Sean’s back and barking out a laugh.
“Sheeeit man, I’m fuckin’ with ya! But it’s fer sure werewolf, but it ain’t one of ours. We don’t go huntin’ fer locals.” Ernie turned and shouted to the trailer park, the sound somehow cutting through the cover of pine needle laden branches. “What do we eat, y’all?”
The entire pack, mostly together barked back “Wild critters only!” one of the toddlers giggled and let out a small howl, which kicked off all the kids in the trailer park to howl. Ernest grinned and jerked this thumb to the instigator. “That one’s mine. Ernie Jr. Gonna be a blues musician, jus’ you wait”
Sean nodded, squinting his eyes against the animal dander. “So all the wolves here won’t mess with owned cattle. Bigfoot isn’t around. Then I have to find out what did it.”
Ernie spit into his Pepsi bottle. He jerked his head to the back of the trailer, indicating Sean to follow him away from the group. When they were in the back yard of the trailer, Sean noted a ‘67 Chevy Impala hoisted on concrete blocks and a tire swing hung to a large tree branch with frayed rope. Ernie glanced around before speaking.
“Look, werewolves is people and dog, right?”
Sean sniffed and pinched the bridge of of his nose.
“Ernie that feels reductive.”
“Nah man, what I’m saying is, when we transform, we still got what makes us people. My old lady, Betty-Anne? She always looks out for the cubs when she’s a person, but she also keeps an eye out when we’re running as a pack of wolves. We keep who we are as people.”
Sean blew his nose. Then he squatted, resting on his laurels as he thought out loud.
“So whatever wolf went after the the Buchanan’s sheep…must not like Buchanan.”
Ernie barked out another laugh. “Oh it’s Buchanan’s farm? I’m surprised the sonbitch is still kickin’!”
Sean glanced up.
“And why is that, Ernie?”
Ernie sqautted down, must more lithe than Sean did, and leaned in to whisper.
“I got a cousin who got a lady friend that works at Buckets, out past Dino Acres? Heard Buchanan’s old lady was hissin and pissin up a storm. I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he went and got bit to protect hisself.”
Sean’s brow furrowed. “You’re saying he made himself a werewolf to keep safe from his wife?” Ernie nodded sagely, which seemed less so as he spit into his Pepsi bottle.
“Yeah man, a’int that hard to do, but it’s weird he ate his own sheep.”
Sean scratched his chin. “Not all of them. He said whatever got in took a couple away. Maybe that was him protecting the other sheep.” Sean pressed his thumb to part of his eye socket, trying to relieve the sinus pressure. “Maybe he’s protecting them from himself, but it’s a Jekyll and Hyde situation.”
Ernie shrugged and stood back up. “Dunno man, I’m telling you what I heard cause I like ya. But I’ve been watchin’ Law & Order -Rufus got us some free cable- and I’m gettin’ to be as good a detective as you.”
Sean grinned and held his hand out for a handshake.
“Maybe when I can afford another P.I., I’ll bring you on, Ernie.”
Ernie clasped Sean’s hand too hard, forcing Sean to wince. “Hell nah, I’m enjoying life too much to work right now. But you let me know if you get that damn dog, can’t let him make a bad name fer us.”
Sean agreed and left “Camp Paradise Trailer Park”, noting to find some wolfsbane and wondering if any gunshops stocked silver bullets.
-to be completed in Part 3-