Hector smacked his alarm clock hard enough that he worried he might have damaged it. Petty tyrants pissed him off. The bullying directed at Volithur bothered him on a professional level almost as much as it did on a personal one. The managerial philosophy that guided him at work was that he always made sure he was the hardest worker on the floor and made sure everyone under him was treated fairly. That was the most effective and the most moral way to do things.
Using the anger as fuel, Hector changed into his running shoes and set off for his Saturday morning run. His dour mood let him power through the early pain until he hit his second wind. The frustration faded away as pavement fell behind him. His velocity slowed somewhat as he adjusted his expectations closer to reality. He still possessed the cardiovascular fitness to do a hard five miles, but his knees and hips didn’t care for the impact that came along with a competitive pace. Smooth, gliding movements minimized the price he would pay for his weekly long run.
He arrived back home a sweaty mess, showered, changed clothes, and drove to the hospital. His father slept throughout the entire visit, giving the pushy doctor another opportunity to harass Hector about hospice care. Then Hector went to work.
Fortunately, only a single shift ran on Saturdays, so he only had to spend nine hours in the building before he could return home. The day had been a short one, yet it felt long to Hector. He had dreamed of multiple days of Volithur’s life in a single night and the subjective experience made it seem like Hector had been hard at work for far longer than a single shift.
On his way home, he stopped by the grocery store to restock his pantry, preparing for his Sunday tradition of meal prepping for the entire next week. For the first meal set he bought chicken planks, broccoli, and brown rice. For the second he grabbed noodles, diced onion, ground beef, and spaghetti sauce. Then he stocked up on frozen mixed berries, spinach, and unsweetened almond milk for his daily smoothie. A few cans of tuna and a bag of apples for healthy snacks.
Hector was mentally preparing to do a second hospital trip as he pulled into his driveway and didn’t notice the dilapidated minivan until he almost ran into it. He didn’t recognize the vehicle, so before he unloaded the groceries he walked around to scope out its interior, trying to ascertain who had parked on his property. With no immediate answers in sight, Hector hefted the bags from the store and walked to the front door.
Which he discovered was not locked. Hector set down his groceries and looked around for a weapon of some sort. Nothing looked promising, so he decided to take a look inside. When the doorknob turned under his hand, it must have made more noise than he realized, because there was suddenly a chorus of barking from within his house.
What the hell? Hector did not have a dog. Not since Butch passed away three years prior.
Yanking the door open revealed a sight that caused the floor of Hector’s stomach to drop. Three dogs of mismatched sizes and appearances were running in circles before the door as his estranged wife approached wearing a tight t-shirt and short shorts beneath a cooking apron that had Mr. T’s angry mug below the words ‘I pity the food’.
“Hey honey, I’m home,” Jennifer sang, big smile on her face.
I would rather be dreaming about shoveling shit, Hector thought. “What are you doing here?”
Jennifer didn’t show any sign that his words bothered her. “Dinner is almost ready. It’s your favorite. Stuffed pork chops.”
“You don’t live here anymore, Jennifer.”
“I moved back in,” she said.
“That’s not how this works. We’re separated.”
Jennifer’s smile didn’t waiver. “Both our names are on the title. Anyway, meet the newest members of our family. This is Buster, Maggie, and Jasmine.”
Hector held the door open. “Please leave.”
“I told you. I moved back in. Come inside and get ready for dinner.” Jennifer returned to the kitchen, leaving him standing in front of three curious dogs. One of them moved to sneak past him to the great outdoors and Hector blocked the escape attempt. He seized the groceries and stepped inside, closing the door behind himself.
The largest of the dogs, a mutt with some degree of retriever in its pedigree, sniffed him while its tail went wild, then forced its head beneath his hand while whining a demand for petting. Hector sighed and patted the dog, which encouraged the other two to seek his affection.
He managed to get past them within five minutes and began unloading his groceries in the kitchen. “I don’t want you here,” he said.
“What do you think of the dogs?”
“Jennifer. I don’t want you here.”
“I can sleep in the spare room to start with.”
Hector glared at his wife, who avoided eye contact as she burned the pork chops. She had never been very skilled in the kitchen. “Did your latest boyfriend kick you out?”
“I had my own apartment,” she said.
“Then go there.”If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“Can’t. They don’t allow pets.”
Hector jumped as a canine nose rammed into his rear. He absently reached down to pet the offending animal. “And in spite of that you suddenly have three dogs?”
“They’re from a kill shelter, Hector. Look at them. Do you want them to die?”
“We’re talking about you finding an excuse to show up out of the blue.”
“They’re not excuses, they’re my babies.” As Jennifer went to her knees, a rush of four-legged beasts swarmed past Hector, racing to surround their adoptive mother. “Remember how much you loved Butch? Don’t you want another chance at that kind of relationship?”
Hector folded his arms. “What do I need to do to get you out of here?”
“I’m staying, Hector. It’s my house, too.”
“I will pay for an apartment that allows pets.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Jennifer hugged the retriever mix as she looked up at him with large eyes. “I want to get back together.”
“Did you already screw every available man in the city? It didn’t take long.”
Her cheerful demeanor cracked. “That’s not fair.”
“Fair or not, it’s true. You cheated on me, Jennifer.”
“We were separated.”
“I think we both know it started before you moved out.”
“I never cheated on you.”
“Based on how fast you lined up the next guy, I find that hard to believe.”
“Guys on the dating apps liked what they saw in me.”
Hector looked down on her. “Then why don’t you find one of them to take your dogs in?”
“I don’t want any of those guys. I’ve been telling you for weeks that I want to try again.”
“So I’m just supposed to forgive you for running out and screwing half the town?”
Jennifer pointed at him. “You told me to leave.”
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“You were working eighty hours a week, then coming home miserable and yelling at me for not keeping a clean house.” Hector wanted to interject that he had been upset not that she didn’t clean the house, but that she constantly made messes throughout the house that he then had to clean up. He didn’t get the chance as Jennifer raised her voice to preempt his interruption. “I said you needed to work fewer hours so we could spend time together as a couple and you started yelling that I either had to put up with the situation or get out of the situation. You weren’t going to change and I was very unhappy. So I took your advice and I left, Hector. You told me to do it.”
Hector glared. “If it was so bad, then why are you trying to come back?”
“Because I still love you, you idiot.”
“Well, I can’t stand the sight of you.”
Jennifer looked away from him. “What kind of dream did you get? I could see you being a Jinn. They upload their minds into machines, you know. I bet they love getting rid of all the human pieces so they can work more hours at the warehouse.”
The question came out of nowhere, and because of that Hector saw it as the obvious attempt to change the topic that it was. Jennifer had always been good at steering conversations. “That’s none of your concern. Our relationship ended four months ago. I don’t want you around.”
“I’m staying anyway.”
“That just gives me something else to despise you for.”
Jennifer held tighter onto the dogs surrounding her. “Justice is a wolf kin.”
“What does justice have to do with anything?”
“It’s a name,” Jennifer said. “Her name. The other me. The girl whose life I dream at night. She is wild and fearless and lives for her pack.”
Hector tried to ignore the tantalizing lead buried in her words, but in the end his curiosity demanded answers. “What is a wolf kin?”
“A type of Alfar. Only instead of embracing the life energy of an entire ecosystem, they fixate on a particular species. For Justice, it is wolves. She adopted an abandoned wolf pup as a child, one she named Runt. Her family didn’t mind a pet. Alfar don’t hide from nature behind walls and roofs. They embrace it by living beneath the sun and the stars, among the trees, alongside the animals.
“Justice became too close to Runt as they grew. Her family disapproved and chased off the wolf pup. So Justice left home to be with her animal companion. She embraced the way of the wolf and her body changed to be more like them. Runt grew large, attracted a mate, and started a pack. Justice led them all. She never once missed her family, Hector. They became dead to her the moment they turned on her companion.”
Jennifer buried her face in the fur of the retriever to breath in the musk that had already begun to permeate the house. “She’s a lot like me. I left home at a young age and I have never regretted that decision. I do regret leaving you behind. We had a lot of problems, Hector, but nothing we couldn’t fix if we actually tried.”
Hector looked at the woman and dogs and burning meat and threw up his hands. “Damn it, Jen, a werewolf is possibly the only thing I want less as a roommate than you.”
Hearing the shortened form of her name, Jennifer’s wilted form straightened. “I’m not going to be a wolf kin, Hector. There aren’t any wolves around here and I don’t think I’m quite that wild.” She picked up the smallest of the three pets, a miniature collie with the hazy eyes of an elderly animal, and kissed it on the head. “I’m going to be a dog kin. And these three are the start of my pack.”
Hector repeated the words, numb. “The start of your pack. How many dogs are you planning to bring into my home?”
“All of them from kill shelters, Hector. Don’t think about how many dogs will be in your house. Think of how many lives are being saved.”
Smoke began to pour off of the remains of the pork chops, setting the kitchen fire alarm off. Hector considered that an omen for things to come.