But I had to know. Very slowly I inched my head toward the window and peered out.
Four hairy monsters were huddled in a corner of the yard.
Four? A minute ago there had been five of them out there. Where was the fifth werewolf? What was it doing?
I jerked my head back, afraid to breathe. But maybe I had counted wrong. It was dark out there, maybe I missed one. Biting my lip, I cautiously peeked out again.
No. I had counted right. There were four werewolves crouched in the yard, facing the house as if they were waiting. Their fangs gleamed in the moonlight and dripped with anticipation.
The monsters were plotting something and I was the only one who knew they were here. I was the only one who knew they even existed.
They were humans by day and evil monsters by night.
I had seen them as monsters before, for three nights in the woodsy swamp behind the town. They wanted me to kill, to become a full-blooded werewolf, and I almost had.
But last night the werewolves had come out of the swamp and stolen a child from the town. I had followed them and stopped them from hurting the child and chased them back into the swamp.
I thought the creatures came from the swamp. Now I knew they lived right here in town.
But the other townspeople didn’t believe in monsters. They blamed the real wolves who lived in the swamp—the beautiful gray wolves who were the only family I could remember. The wolves had taken me in when I was a baby and I could never let anyone hurt them.
At dawn the humans from town had sent out men with guns to hunt my wolf family down. The hunters hadn’t killed my family but they did capture me—the “wolf-boy” who lived with the wolves.
And now they were trying to make a human boy out of me.
And I knew I’d much rather be a human than a monster. In my heart I was a human, I was!
Now the werewolves had come for me.
SCRREEEEEEK.
It was the sound of a claw scraping against the outside of the house below my window.
The werewolf was climbing up the side of the house!
THUMP! SCRRAATCH!
It slipped and grunted as its claws scrabbled for a hold. I waited for the sound of its body hitting the ground. Nothing.
Then I heard the faint scratching, clicking sound again. It hadn’t fallen.
And it had climbed much closer. I could hear the rasp of its breath.
It was coming to get me!
Chapter 3
I screamed and bolted for the bedroom door.
“Paul!” I shouted into the hallway. “H-help! Help!”
Paul’s bedroom door flew open. “What?” he cried. “What’s the matter?”
Paul was my age, twelve. His brown eyes were wide-open as he hurried toward me. But he didn’t look scared, just concerned. Paul’s family had taken me in that morning when the hunters brought me out of the swamp.
I opened my mouth but no words came out. Paul looked over my shoulder, into the dark bedroom. I put my hand on his arm to stop him from going in to look.
“No,” I said haltingly, in my rusty voice. “Wait for the dad.”
We could both hear Mr. Parker’s feet pounding up the stairs. Mrs. Parker was right behind him and Kim, Paul’s younger sister, was behind her.
“What’s wrong, boy?” Mr. Parker asked me. Mrs. Parker looked worried.
“He thinks there’s something scary in his room!” said Paul, the words tumbling out of him in excitement.
Mr. Parker frowned. He was a big man with a serious expression. “Let Gruff speak for himself, Paul,” he said.
“But, Dad, you know he can’t,” said Paul, hopping from foot to foot impatiently. He was eager to get into my room and see what scared me. “He’s been brought up by a family of wolves his whole life. We can’t expect him to learn English in one day.”
“Well, he won’t learn if you don’t let him try.” Mr. Parker turned to me. “Now, Gruff, can you tell me what happened?”
I pointed at the bedroom. Even though I could understand a lot of the human talk, it was much harder to sort all my jumbled thoughts into words and get my lips and tongue to make the right sounds.
“Werewolves,” I said. “Inside. You see.”
I grasped Mr. Parker’s hand and pulled him into the room. I pointed at the window. “There!”
Mr. Parker exchanged a glance with his wife. She shrugged her shoulders and nodded. I could tell neither of them believed me.
Mr. Parker walked over to the window in two long strides. Feeling safer with him there, I followed.
“Sorry, Gruff, but I don’t see a thing,” said Mr. Parker as he peered into the night. “Seems pretty quiet out there.”
The werewolves had disappeared.
“Perhaps you had a nightmare,” said Mrs. Parker in her soft friendly voice. “It’s your first night in a strange place. You’ve never been in a house before, have you, Gruff?”
I shook my head, “No.” I had, once long ago before I was left with the wolves, but it was too complicated to explain and I didn’t really remember what it was like.
“Well then,” she said, satisfied. “It’s only natural you’ll have scary dreams the first few days.”
There wasn’t any way I could convince them. But at least the werewolves were gone.
Then I saw a stealthy movement out of the corner of my eye. A big shadow, lurking behind the bushes near the street.
I grabbed Mr. Parker’s sleeve and pointed. He peered intently into the darkness. Then his face relaxed and he smiled. “That’s Mr. Ford, our next-door neighbor,” he said, ruffling my hair. “He’s out walking his dog, Misty. And Misty is hardly a monster.”
Misty the dog was very small and fluffy and waddled when it walked. Mr. Ford was about a hundred years old. I felt embarrassed. Now I’d ruined any chance I had of ever convincing them that the werewolves were real!
Mr. Parker drew himself up and turned away from the window to look at his
