(Excerpt of Sororate Chapter Two)
When the male Werewolves began to think up a roster over the next month,
I lost the last of my already short patience and broke away. To look like I wasn’t sulking, I returned to
the seat beside Sharon
Frickin’ hell, I wasn’t enjoying this Wake. I had either male chauvinism or baby talk to
bounce between. Not that I blamed the
women, for those that were mated to a male Lokoti Werewolf; children were an
inevitable part of that marriage. I just
felt left out, since I was the only woman in the room let alone the tribe whose
union to a virile supernatural species didn’t produce ‘rug rats’.
In the past, my Calculator Vincent who had been a doctor, examined me
for ‘non-specific ovarian failure’. He
ran multiple tests to ascertain I didn’t have tubal disease or endometriosis
nor did I have ovulation disorder. But
for some reason things just didn’t add up, my eggs refused to be fertilized nor
could they embed themselves in my uterus.
Vincent diagnosed that my differences as a Circulator had unusually
affected my biology and it was as if my reproductive system was also in
temporal flux. That day I learned my
status as the Last Circulator was responsible for truly making me the last on
the line.
“Excuse me,” I stood up a second time, “I just have to check on
something outside.”
The women were starting to look a little disgruntled at my comings and
goings and truly, I didn’t mean to be rude.
My head ducked shyly as I slipped out of the room via the front door
when I found refuge on the veranda steps.
There I sat, looking up into the changing sky.
It was nearing 10 PM and the sun was only starting to set, thanks to Alaska
“Hallo Mum and Dad. Man, I miss
you guys.” I sighed sadly at the
celestial objects, as if they were my loved ones. I felt my eyes sting and I continued talking
under my breath. “Mum, I miss how you
fought for equal rights for women with the pack. Dad, I miss how you would talk quietly with
Grandfather on your verdict but you’d always hear us out if someone had a
different point of view. I also miss not
talking about academic work with you guys or Circulate stuff. There’s no-one to laugh over time travel
stories anymore.”
Then I turned quiet as I looked out at the garden in the twilight. The Riverclaw as well as the Wisetail
families copied off Declan and I, by doing up their gardens after we did up
ours. They used different plants though
and made them unique in their own way. I
loved looking on the gardens in summer, at how the flowers bloomed for an
extended time or the smell of freshly cut grass. I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply
through my nose and out of my mouth, as I inhaled the change of smell produced
as it went from day to night.
At that moment, I was disturbed by the sound of the front door opening
and closing, as Declan came to sit beside.
He was carrying two glasses of orange flavoured Fanta and he passed me
one. Then he too looked up into the sky.
“Are you missing your parents and grandparents?” He guessed.
I nodded whilst staring at the neatly kept lawn, “And my Calculator.”
“Who, Vincent?” My husband
screwed up his face in distaste. “I
don’t know how you or anyone would miss that guy. He had a permanent chip on his shoulder and
especially a grudge about our kind.”
This made me smile, “He thought Werewolves were sexist, archaic,
primitive beasts.”
“And because we still won’t let you patrol, it reminded you of
that?” He raised his eyebrows
unimpressed. “Oh yeah, we’re real
bastards for trying to keep the existence of a female Lokoti Werewolf a
secret. We’re real Neanderthals for
trying to protect our female, when there are male Werewolves out there who’ve
tried to kidnap and claim her for their own purposes.”
“It’s not just that.” I sighed
out. “There’s no-one to talk to about
Circulate business anymore.”
“Hang on, I thought Vincent programmed the Circulate Mainframe to act as
your Calculator instead?”
“Yes he did and it does a very good job.
It sends me via email, notifications I should be aware of within Hodge
Endeavor or even in the timeline. But…” I faltered as my eyes briefly met his before
they skipped away again, “…I don’t have anyone to talk to about time travel
anymore.”
“What am I, a Neanderthal bastard who’s so stupid that you can’t even
communicate with anymore?” He riled
up. “You can frickin’ talk to me!”
“Oh OK.” I put on a sarcastically
cheerful tone. “Declan, I’m thinking of
visiting Ancient Egypt and taking some photos of the statues of Isis in the
temples in Thebes and Memphis
“Say what?” He blinked
dumbfounded. “I thought you had a
frickin’ smart computer to think of these things for you!”
“I do have a computer for a Calculator to answer my questions but it
can’t say to me, ‘oh B, I was in the New Kingdom
last week. It was the time of year when
the flooded Nile had receded and I saw this
temple with amazing statues which you would absolutely love!’”
“What do you mean, the Nile was
flooded? B, I don’t think it’s a smart
idea to visit flooded destinations.”
“The Nile is supposed to flood,
Declan! The floodwaters leave silt which
helps crops grow!”
“Well if you already know all of this, why do you need to go there to
look at frickin’ statues?”
“Because it helps with my academic work!” I rolled my eyes. “My papers generate interest, because my work
isn’t just guessing what life used to be like; I provide proof of what it
really was like because I’ve seen it with my own two eyes!”
My papers ensured casual employment of guest lectures in the academic
field where I was known as Dr. Bianca Riverclaw, which was my mother’s maiden
name. I’d been Dr. Bianca Sabre for
forty years and then Dr. Bianca Wisetail for another forty. I had to start all over again because my
other two identities are supposed to have either retired or ‘carked’ it by now.
Since Declan’s always worked at the Garage on Lokoti Tribal Lands he
didn’t have to worry about assumed identities.
In fact, if a person ever suggested to him to pretend to be somebody
else, he would figuratively bite your head off! My husband had a low tolerance for anything
superficial and calls it as it is, much to my amusement and our tribe’s. The only time he humours subterfuge is hiding
his European Werewolf nature from outsiders.
“So do you sign at the bottom of your work, ‘written by the Last
Circulator, the woman who’s actually been there’?” He rolled his eyes back. “If you do, I think we should be more worried
of people finding out you’re a Circulator let alone a Werewolf.”
Exasperated, I started to bang my head against the wooden veranda
railing. Declan growled under his breath
and instead of putting out his arm to merely stop me, I found myself in a
headlock!
“Hey, let go!” I complained.
“Nah, I don’t think so.” He said
coolly. “You stuffy, snobby, time
traveller for a cheat, University Professor.”
So I bit into his side, which made him cry out and loosen his hold. We were both half laughing and half snarling,
as Declan tried to grab onto his wife and I kept swatting his hands away. Our drinks sat half drunk and forgotten
about.
“Right that’s it!” He growled and
his eyes momentarily glowed green when he bent over and lifted me up, onto his
shoulder.
“Hey! Declan, put me down!” I squealed louder in laughter.
“Nope, I’m dragging you back to my cave Mrs. Neanderthal!” He stood up and walked away from the steps.
I grabbed hold of his hair and pulled hard, which tipped his head
backwards and made him lose his balance.
Together, we tumbled onto the front lawn, with me landing on top. But then we paused, as our senses told us we
weren’t alone.
We looked up to see Stone with his wife and son, as well as Jake and his
wife and baby, standing on the veranda in their dignified black clothes;
staring at their immature elders who were wrestling in theirs.
“Let me guess, ‘pack business’?” Sharon
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