From: sandler@snow-white.ee.udel.edu (Sandman)
Subject: Wolf chp 7
Organization: Lab Rats
Date: Wed, 27 Jan 1993 15:59:13 GMT


                        Wolf
             Copyright 1992, Bruce Norman 
                 All rights reserved


- Chapter 7 -

"Son, we need to talk". Chris opened one sleepy eye in shock, his 
clock said 6:30. 

"What the fuck are you doing getting me up at this hour dad?" he 
asked. Stupid asshole. 

"We need to talk son, your mother and I are very worried about 
you. You've changed lately. You never used to swear, period, and 
never at us. You've been moody, uncooperative, down right 
nasty." 

"Gee, could it be perhaps because my right arm is dead and 
won't ever work again Dad?" asked Chris sarcastically. He made 
his words biting, made them cut deep. 

"Maybe I haven't been the best father Chris" began Ron. 

Maybe you haven't been a father at all dad thought Chris. Maybe 
you've been the guy I've called dad all these years who pays the 
rent. Maybe I was adopted?

"Hell, I've never been good at talking to you, you know that" 

Damn right I know that dad. I'm the only kid I know who was 
sent to their mother to learn about sex. Of course I was too 
embarrassed to ask, who wouldn't be? Not the kind of thing a 11 
year old asks his mother. So I learned from the 14 year olds, and 
boy did they have time screwing me up. They told me that if I guy 
didn't have sex once a year once he reached puberty his dick 
would shrivel up and fall off. Thanks for protecting me from that 
crap dad. 

"Well, I guess this is it, doomsday. We're going to talk Chris, talk 
until we have your problems all figured out. And I mean all of 
them Chris. Your arm is busted, it may never work quite right 
again, but that still doesn't account for your behavior. You're a 
whole new person Chris, and I don't know if I like that person." 

"Well I never liked you dad, so we're even" was Chris' simple 
retort. His dad winced as if he had been struck. Chris continued 
his venomous words in glee. "Who the hell do you think you are 
coming to tell me how to live my life dad? You lost your job and 
had a nervous breakdown just four years ago because your boss 
caught you embezzling from the company. If you hadn't been 
good friends with him you'd be in jail now. Instead all you had to 
do was pay every cent back, which wasn't easy because it had all 
gone into a new boat. You sold the boat, at a $10,000 loss, and 
then had to make up the rest of it. Do you remember emptying 
my university account dad? $4,500 was all that was there, but 
believe me, to a 13 year old $4,500 is a lot dad. A whole lot. So 
don't tell me how to run my life dad." 

"Chris," Ron was speechless. What had come over Chris. His 
eyes were cruel and heartless. 

"And what about that affair with that 17 year old dad? Oh yes, I 
know about that. I was only 8 when it happened, and I didn't 
understand what was going on then, but I've figured it out since. 
You got her pregnant too you idiot, had to pay her $3,000 to keep 
her mouth shut and get an abortion. I heard mom talking about it 
on the phone, a lot. That was when I was worried you two would 
get a divorce. Now I wish you would dad, you make me sick. Get 
out of here before I kill you." 

"Son, I'm sorry, I've made mistakes in my life, but I'm trying to 
atone for them. Right now I'm trying to atone. Please, forgive 
me, and let me help you. Your mother and I want you to talk to 
Dr. Guntar. He may be able to recommend someone to talk to 
about your feelings. Help you get them straightened out." 

"You're the one who needs the shrink dad, not me." Chris was 
standing now, looking his dad straight in the eye. His body was 
sweaty, he stank, he hadn't showered since his operation and 
hadn't sponged himself in two days. He poked his finger in his 
dad's stomach. "Get out now, or I am going to hurt you." 

"Now listen here Chris!" said his dad, becoming angry. "I've had 
enough of this crap from you. I'm your father, regardless of what 
I have done, and I only want to help you. And I will not listen to 
threats of that nature in my own house! 

Chris grabbed his alarm clock and ripped the plug out of the wall. 
He held it forth in a threatening way. 

"Get out now or I will smash open your head. Its that simple 
dad." 

"I've had enough Chris" said Ron, and stepped forward. Chris 
swung his arm out as hard as he could. The clock smashed into 
Ron's head. He staggered back dazed, a visible depression in his 
temple. His mouth formed words but no sound was produced. 

Chris stepped forward and followed up with another smash. This 
one hit his father square in the nose, crushing cartilage in a most 
satisfying crunch. Blood exploded from buried vessels and 
streamed down Ron's face. He fell backwards, cracking his head 
on the floor. Chris began to giggle. He knelt by his father, he was 
still conscious. He swung the clock again, a double handed 
smash into his mouth. Teeth broke and cracked as Ron's mouth 
caved in from the force of the blow. More blood, but by this time 
Ron was blissfully unconscious. A few more blows from Chris 
finished the job. By now he was laughing. 

Chris looked at his father's body in triumph. At last, after years 
of hatred it was done. But now what would he do with the body? 
The mess? The blood? Well, the blood would have to do for a 
start. He bent over his father's corpse and began to eagerly lick 
his face. 

His mother grabbed his arm. "Chris stop it! What's wrong?" 

Chris sat up in bed, still laughing. He was mentally unfocused, as 
are all people awakened in the middle of a dream. His eyes wan-
dered for a second and then settle on his mother's face. What was 
going on? His laughter died away. 

"Chris? What's the matter, you were laughing in your sleep, 
what's going on?" 

"Oh, I just had a funny dream" said Chris, in his mind the vision 
of his father crushed and mutilated face was still as clear as day. 
"I'm fine mom, really." 

Chris' mom went down to breakfast and turned to her husband 
with a big smile on her face. "I think he's getting back to his old 
good natured self again!" 

* * * 

 In Michigan State University, Dr. Peter Fowles looked over the 
newspaper article with feelings of total dismay. He read it once, 
twice, three times. He was so stupid! He had sworn he would 
keep up to date, but it had been years, if he hadn't heard that 
blurb on the radio about a killer wolf.... 

Killer Wolf strikes small Canadian Town 

L---P---T1----+-T--2----T----3--T-+----4T---+---T5----+-T--6----
R----7--T-+--r 

Meaford, British Columbia, is a small town where nothing very 
exciting ever happens--except the occasional killer wolf. Yes not 
just a killer wolf, the occasional killer wolf. It seems that in 
Meaford must be one of the most unlucky towns in Canada. Just 
six years ago Meaford suffered from the attacks of several rabid 
wolves. A large pack was roaming about the forest which virtu-
ally surrounds the rural town. During a three week time period 
three people and numerous animals and livestock were attacked 
by these unusually vicious creatures. Soon after the attacks 
started the wolves were wiped out by organized town effort. 
Hopefully no great town effort will be required this time, but 
once again Meaford has a killer wolf, or should we say had a 
killer wolf. Local teen football star Rick Chambers and his girl-
friend Judy were the victims of a vicious attack from this beast. 
Rick gave his life to give Judy enough time to escape. After 
Rick's death, the people of Meaford did not hesitate to take 
immediate action. Police officer Barry O'Conner dealt with the 
wolf in a quick and organized manner. He organized several 
small Hunting parties, and within 5 days the wolf was found and 
killed by local high school student Bill Anderson. O'Conner says 
there is no evidence of pack activity, but rather this appears to be 
the actions of a "lone wolf". 

L---P---T1----+-T--2----T----3--T-+----4T---+---T5----+-T--6----
R----7--T-+--r 

There are no mentions of injuries thought Dr. Fowles. Absolutely 
no mention of any injuries. Maybe its been stopped before it 
starts? Maybe, but maybe isn't good enough. His heart almost 
stopped when he read the paper for the fourth time. Oh my god, 
Bill Anderson, Brad's son. Dr. Fowles crumpled the paper up into 
a little ball and threw it across the room. He sat in his comfort-
able office chair and placed his head in his hands. This was too 
much for him to take. He didn't want to have to deal with Forge. 
He'd almost forgotten he existed. 

* * * 

"Are you all-right Judy?" Judy turned her head. It was Mel. 

"Oh, I'm ok I guess" said Judy. "I've been having these head-
aches lately." 

"Well you look miserable" said Mel in her helpful way. "Want a 
smoke?" 

"I don't smoke." 

"Well, maybe you should start" said Mel, "just kidding, don't, its 
a real pain." She lit up her cigarette and inhaled deeply, blowing 
the smoke away from Judy carefully. "Now you'd better hurry 
up, or we'll be late for school" she said wagging her finger at 
Judy. "We wouldn't want that now would we?" 

Judy laughed in spite of herself. Mel was always good at cheer-
ing her up. "Actually I don't have a headache, I'm just worried 
about Chris." 

"Chris?" asked Mel. "What the hell are you worrying about that 
jerk? I saw him making a fool of himself over Tammy. He's gone 
power mad, Judy. Within a week Tammy will have set him 
straight and Derek will have beat him up and he'll come whining 
to you like a lost puppy dog. Dump him." 

"I think he may have dumped me" said Judy, a morose look on 
her face. She leaned against a brown volkswagon parked nearby. 
What an ugly car she thought absentmindedly. 

"Him? Dump you? You got it wrong girl, you always do the 
dumping. If you think he's dumped you you'd better dump him 
fast before he gets around to actually saying it." 

"Well, we have a date tonight, theoretically, but he hasn't talked 
to me since we made it." 

"Lose that loser now!" was Mel's advice. "You're young and 
sexy, I bet you could get yourself another guy for tonight in four 
minutes. A good looking one too. Rub that in Chris' face and see 
how he reacts." 

"No, I think I'll give him a chance to fix this himself" said Judy, 
a resolved look on her face. "Maybe he'll snap out of it."

"I just wish I knew what you see in him" said Mel. 

"Well" said Judy. "It's not what I see in him, it's what I used to 
see in him. Maybe there's some of the old Chris left. He's got to 
come out of it soon." 

"Yeah, whatever" said Mel, and began the two and a half block 
walk to school. Judy sighed and joined her. 

* * * 

"Christopher? You are late for school! Hurry up!" yelled Chris' 
mother up the /stairs. Chris had been in the bathroom a long time, 
she hoped he wasn't doing anything indecent. She didn't feel 
good. Despite what she'd said to Ron at breakfast she didn't feel 
like Chris was back to normal--she just desperately wished he 
would get back to normal. It wasn't even that she didn't feel 
good, she didn't feel anything. Usually she had a sense of how 
Chris was feeling, but she hadn't been able to read him at all 
lately. She didn't mention this to her husband, he would scoff and 
ridicule her. He didn't believe in her feelings. She believed in her 
feelings. Her feelings had turned up that 17 year old hussy...but 
she didn't like to think about that. 

Stupid old bitch thought Chris rummaging through the medicine 
cabinet. His arm was itching like hell, and he was out of pain 
killers. His arm didn't hurt anymore, it hadn't hurt in a while, but 
the itching was killing him. Only those pain killers seemed to 
make it shut up for a while. He grabbed a bottle of Tylanol and 
shook out five tablets, these would have to do. He put them in his 
mouth and chewed them dry. He then emptied the bottle into his 
shirt pocket. These would do him for today, he needed a lot of 
pain killers to stop the itchiness. He'd been taking triple the rec-
ommended dose of his prescription drug. Didn't want to refill it 
though. Didn't want to have to explain where all the pills had 
gone. 

He stared at his cast in hatred. Why the fuck did it feel so itchy? 
He just wanted to rip it off, but he wasn't stupid. He was going in 
for an x-ray on Monday of next week. He could last another three 
days. 

He came downstairs, he was late for school, but he didn't care. 
Realization struck him and he swore. If he was late, he wouldn't 
be able to get Tammy to carry his books. He'd have to do some-
thing different with Tammy today, and he had to remember to 
talk to...who did he have to talk to? Ah yes, Judy. He had to make 
sure everything was ok for their date. His first date, but boy was 
it going to be a big one. And he'd fix a date with Tammy for the 
next night. About time he stopped fooling around. Every guy in 
the whole school would be envious of him. 

Chris went down and left for school, walking this time. His arm 
still itched like hell. He took another two tablets. 

* * * 

Chris walked up to Tammy's locker, she was there of course. In 
english class she had been sitting in her old seat--that had pissed 
him off. Derek had grinned nastily at him. Well he'd show Derek 
up. 

"Tammy, how are you? Missed you in English class." He was 
friendly and direct. He was good at pretending he was friendly 
now. 

"Oh, hi Chris" said Tammy, sounding less than enthusiastic. 
"Missed you too." 

The hell you did thought Chris. But that will change. 

"Well, I'll make sure I'm here on time next time" he said. "I'm 
not surprised you didn't wait for me." 

"Oh, that's ok" said Tammy, obviously confused by the fact he 
was apologizing to her. 

"I was thinking Tammy, you've been so nice to me lately, I'd like 
to pay you back. What say I buy you lunch over at the grease 
pit?" 

"I can't date you Chris" said Tammy, suddenly launching into an 
obviously already prepared speech. "I'm quite happy with Derek 
and I'm really not looking for another guy." 

Chris burst into a carefully prepared laugh, she was so stupid, he 
knew all this was coming. "Tammy, I'm not asking you out! I'm 
already dating Judy. I just genuinely wanted to thank you for 
being so nice to me."

"But..." she began.

"I know," interrupted Chris, "I've been flirting with you, but 
that's just fooling around, you know, like when Derek fools 
around with girls." He watched in approval as a look of disap-
proval crossed her face. She didn't like Derek flirting with other 
girls. "But I understand if you don't want me to flirt with you." 

"That's ok" said Tammy, once again playing right into the palm 
of his hands. "There's no reason why I can't have a friendly 
lunch with you. Derek can go to hell. He's such a asshole some-
time. He insists that you want me and that I have to tell you off." 

"But I do want you" said Chris taking Tammy's right hand in his 
left. "As a friend. Is it so strange that I want to be just your 
friend?" 

Tammy looked at him strangely, somewhat scaredly, he had 
guessed right again. All of her male friend had probably been 
fuck-friends. She was as simple as one of those ditzes in a badly 
written novel. 

"Oh Chris" she said, and hugged him. He hugged her back, wink-
ing at some fat kid who looked like a blabber mouth. Derek 
should be happy to hear about this. 

"Well, I have to go to math now Tammy" said Chris in a regretful 
voice. "Don't feel bad about Derek, he's a nice guy, he's just a 
little jealous and overprotective." 

"Just a little, eh?" said Tammy sarcastically. "That's why I like 
you Chris, you're not at all like him." 

Chris smiled. Everything was going exactly as he planned. 

* * * 

 "Wait up Judy!" yelled Chris. He ran after her. It was lunch time, 
and he'd been looking for her for a while. She stopped and turned 
to face him. 

"Oh, hi Chris" she said and smiled at him. Not a very happy 
smile, she wasn't too pleased with him lately which was under-
standable. 

"Look Judy" said Chris. "First thing I want to do is apologize for 
being such a jerk lately. I know I've been running around with 
Tammy like some kid, but I was just fooling around. There 
wasn't anything serious in it or anything." 

"Well you haven't had much time for me lately" she said, "not 
like we're dating or anything, but I kinda thought you'd at least 
talk to me what with us going out tonight." Chris blushed some-
what, it was hard to make yourself blush but he managed. 

"Sorry about that too Judy, my head hasn't quite been screwed on 
right lately. Maybe its the medication." He cursed himself, he 
sounded like a scared mouse, why did she make him so nervous? 
And why the hell was she saying that they weren't dating? "Judy, 
what do you mean by that we're not dating or anything?" 

"Well, we're not Chris, one date that hasn't even happened 
doesn't exactly make us an item". She smiled at him. "I mean its 
not like we've been going out for a while or anything." 

"Well don't worry" said Chris. "After tonight you'll change your 
tune. I've got plans Judy, big plans for tonight." Judy smiled at 
Chris, a genuine smile this time. 

"Well I'll be looking forward to it then. Why don't we go over to 
Macendowl's for lunch then?" 

"Lunch?" Chris stood there, a confused look on his face. He had 
to do something at lunch, he knew he had to. What was wrong 
with his head? His arm itched like hell. 

"Chris? Are you all-right?" Judy looked at him in genuine con-
cern. His face was all twisted, like he was thinking so hard his 
head might split. "Chris?" 

"No! I can't go to lunch, I'm busy." He walked away from her. 
"I'm sorry, I'll see you at eight then." What's wrong with me he 
thought to himself. 

What's wrong with him? wondered Judy. 

Chris walked down the hall, his head hurt like hell. His arm was 
burning with itch. He almost smashed his cast into a wall, but 
refrained, he had to keep his arm still. He had to give it all the 
chance it could to heal, but it was driving him insane! He reached 
into his pocket and pulled out a handful of pills, threw them into 
his mouth and started chewing. He gagged, ran over to a water 
fountain and spat them out. He looked at the chewed up pills in 
shock. Was he insane? He'd taken a handful of about ten pills out 
of his pocket, was he trying to kill himself? He washed out his 
mouth with water carefully, he couldn't take this anymore. He 
had to go talk to Dr....Dr...Dr. Whatshisname. He couldn't wait 
until Monday to get his arm fixed. He began to run to the main 
school office. People stared at him as he ran by. 

"I've got to go home" he said as he ran into the main office. "My 
arm hurts really bad, I have to go get it checked." 

"Sure thing Chris" said some secretary he'd never seen before. 
"You're over 18 right?" 

"Yes" lied Chris. "I can't sign though, my arm you know." 

"That's ok" said the secretary, "I'll sign for you. You go get that 
arm checked." 

"Thanks" said Chris, and ran outside. Fat bitch. He ran outside 
the office, outside the school, and ran home. He couldn't help 
himself, his entire body burned with inner fire. His arm itched 
horribly. His skin also itched, but compared to his arm it was 
nothing. He reached his home in five minutes. The driveway was 
empty, thank god, his mom was out. He fumbled for his key and 
opened the door, slamming it shut as he went in. He was stagger-
ing now, he felt so light headed, and itchy. He grabbed for the 
phone. He had to call the doctor. 

No don't he thought. They'll insist on keeping me over for obser-
vation. They might put me in that fucking hospital again. I 
couldn't take that. Sleep, all I need is sleep. 

He staggered to his bed and lay down, it wasn't that bad, the itch-
ing. He was getting use to it now, sort of like getting used to your 
arm being on fire. He felt sick to his stomach, probably those 
pills. Oh well, he couldn't call until tomorrow at least. He had 
big plans for tonight. 

No I don't. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks. He had no 
plans for tonight, none at all. How could he have been so stupid? 
He was dating the girl of his dreams tonight, and he had no idea 
where he was taking her. What could he do? Seth, seth told him 
to get a truck. He'd get a truck and take her out to lookout point. 
It was romantic there. It was nice there. 

She was almost killed there. He swore, was his brain totally 
fucked? That would be the worst place to take her. Where could 
he take her that was private, and romantic, and nice. 

How about the badlands? He swore again. That was crazy, the 
badlands were quiet, private, but far from romantic and nice. He 
didn't want to take her to a movie, there were no good movies in 
Meaford. Local town activities included drinking and fucking in 
the woods (and what with the wolf scare there had been a lot 
more drinking lately). Where was he supposed to take her? He 
couldn't even have her over to his place to watch movies on the 
VCR. His parents would be here, great first date. And this had to 
be a great first date. 

He'd have to ask Bill. 

But of course that dumb fuck Bill was still in school. Why wasn't 
he ever there when he needed him? If Bill had been quicker, 
maybe he wouldn't have lost his arm. That fucked up piece of 
shit owed him big. 

No, I'm glad it happened. 

What was this? Was he going insane? But strangely, it was true. 
He was glad that wolf had mauled his arm. It had really done him 
a favor. He had found strength through losing his arm. He'd 
learned to stop taking shit from people. He learned to stand up 
for himself. Thank god for that wolf in fact. It was worth Rick's 
death and his arm for him to get where he was today. He'd 
changed all-right, and it was all for the better. 

He took a pad of paper and propped it up against his knee. He'd 
write Judy a poem while he was waiting. He was good at poetry. 

"The body of devil, but she has an angel's heart" he said out 
loud, and frowned. Not good, he was getting into something 
horny and that wasn't good. Not too impressive for her if he just 
treated her like a sex object. 

"My love for her is greater than the greatest tree. I can only hope 
one day that she will also love me." He paused for a second. 
"Shit that sucks." It did suck. What the hell was he doing? He 
was rhyming off words like some 8 year old. Poetry didn't need 
to rhyme, he had to feel it. He wasn't feeling poetic. He hadn't 
felt poetic in a long time now. "Fuck it, its all bullshit anyway" 
he said and tossed the pad of paper across the room. It hit a pic-
ture on his dresser. A picture of him, and his mom and dad, at 
Disney World. He was nine. That was when dad took him mom 
and him on the "I'm sorry" vacation after that little bit of busi-
ness with the 17 year old slut. How dad had afforded it Chris did 
not know, probably embezzled the money. The picture fell to the 
floor with a crash. The glass broke. 

"Shit" said Chris and rolled out of bed. He liked that picture. He 
was smiling in it and very happy. He bent over to pick it up. 

"FUCK!" he swore, he had cut himself on the glass. "You stupid 
fuck!" he said and hurled the picture into the hall. It smashed into 
the wall and dented it. Chris teetered off balance. He fell forward 
onto the floor, his hand landing in broken glass. Shards rammed 
into his hand. He gasped, but did not scream. Gently he lifted his 
hand, it was cut in four places. He walked to the bathroom, his 
feet crushing small particles of glass. He nudged the door open, 
his hand was dripping blood. He held it in front of the mirror and 
let the blood drip in the sink. It hurt like hell. 

His arm was still itching. 

How was he supposed to get the glass out with one hand? He had 
to get it out. He walked to the phone and nudged it off the hook 
with his head. He dialed 0 with his tongue. He sat down on the 
floor and tilted his head so it matched the hanging receiver. He 
nudged it onto his shoulder. 

"Operator, how may I help you" asked the nasal slightly annoyed 
feminine voice of the operator. 

"I've cut my hand quite badly" said Chris in a calm voice. 
"Could you please put me through to Meaford General?" 

"Meaford General what?" asked the operator. 

"Why the Caladash General Store of course" said Chris. "I want 
to order some drain cleaner to poor on my cuts! Meaford General 
Hospital you stupid...please do it quickly, there is quite a bit of 
blood." The operator did not respond, their was a click in the 
background, the phone rang. It rang six times. 

Oh this is fucking amazing thought Chris. I can't even get 
through to what passes for the local medical unit. 

"Hello?" it was the sleepy voice of Angela Parker, receptionist/
nurse for Meaford General. "Can I help you?" 

"Yes" said Chris. "I've slashed up my right hand on some glass 
and I'm in need of medical attention. Could you please send an 
ambulance for me?" 

"How badly is it cut sir? The ambulance is for medical emergen-
cies only, are you in need of immediate attention?" 

"Oh I'm sure I could hang onto my life for a few more hours, but 
unfortunately I can't make it to the hospital myself. This is Chris 
Berrington, my other arm is broken you see, so I am effectively 
armless." 

"Oh, Chris! Right away! I'll tell Stan to get to it on the double!" 

"Perhaps you would like my address" asked Chris politely. 

"Oh, yes, that would help" said Angela tittering. "Never talked to 
a hero before." 

"Neither have I" said Chris, and told her his address. He then let 
the phone drop to the floor, and sat down to wait for the ambu-
lance. He amused himself by thinking of what he would have 
done to that operator and that receptionist if they were there 
before him. He hated stupid people. Hated them with an almost 
obsessive fury. He would kill those women if they were before 
him, but first he would make them hurt." 

* * * 

"Well Chris" said Dr. Crawford, "it was worse than it looked. A 
lot of blood, but very little actual damage. How do you feel 
though? You don't look too well." 

"Oh, I'm fine Dr., just a little shaken up. It's scary being without 
the use of either of your hands." 

"Yes, I can understand that" said Dr. Crawford. 

You don't understand shit thought Chris. He almost asked Dr. 
Crawford about his arm, about the itching, but he didn't. He had 
a big date tonight, he had to get out of this little stink hole hospi-
tal. 

"Could you call me a cab Dr.?" asked Chris pleasantly. "I want to 
get home before my mother discovers the pool of blood and 
thinks something is wrong." 

"Oh, certainly" said Dr. Crawford. "How's your arm Chris?" 

"No change I'm afraid" lied Chris. "Oh damn, I forgot to fill my 
prescription! Shit, I'll have to get out to the drug store somehow I 
guess." 

"Oh, just a second Chris" said Dr. Crawford. "What are you tak-
ing, Thiominicin?" Chris nodded. "Forty or sixty milligram tab-
lets?" asked Dr. Crawford. 

"Sixty" said Chris. He had no idea how many milligrams were in 
the pills he took, but more was better. Dr. Crawford handed him a 
small bottle. 

"There's three pills in here, that should last you until you get to 
the drugstore." 

"Thanks Doc, thanks a lot" said Chris. Stupid bastard, wasn't 
worth it for three tablets. 

"I'll be seeing you Chris" said Dr. Crawford. 

Not if I can help it thought Chris, and stepped wordlessly into his 
cab. 

* * * 

 "It's all-right Chris, I understand" said Judy. Chris fumed. He 
hated this, he hated canceling his date, but what was the point? 
He had no hands. Wasn't much you could do on a date if you had 
no hands. Needed one hand, at least, for everything. 

"Listen Judy, as soon as my hand heals I'll make it up to you, I 
promise" said Chris. "The Dr. said it wasn't bad, maybe Sun-
day?" 

"Oh Chris," said Judy, "there's no way you'll be better in two 
days. Lets say next Friday, if you're better." Judy was pleased, 
Chris sounded really apologetic, not all haughty like he had been 
lately. And he was obviously really disturbed over having to 
break there date. Maybe he was over this little fling with popular-
ity, now he'd be back to his old self. 

"Well, we'll see then Judy," said Chris, "but I think I'm going to 
be better really soon. Really soon." 

"Well I hope you do, bye Chris, I'll come over and visit you 
tomorrow. How would that be? Two o'clock sound good?" 

"Any time is good with you" said Chris. "I'll be ready, and wait-
ing." 

"Bye Chris" said Judy. 

"Bye Judy" said Chris. 

Judy hung up her phone, Chris' mother hung up his phone. 

Chris went to be early that night. Ten o'clock. He had to go to 
bed though, now his hand was itching. Itching just like his arm. 
He doped himself up on his good old pain killer and sunk right 
away into blissful sleep. It was good stuff that Thia-whatever. He 
had to get more, he'd get his mother to get it, and if she asked 
about where all the pills had gone? He'd worry about that if it 
happened. 

Newsgroups: alt.horror.werewolves