The Family Pack - Chapter 2

And so, the day went on and school ended.  Jason hadn't seen that girl after recess.  It was time for Jason to return to the orphanage.  As much as he disliked school, he disliked the orphanage even more.  Nobody cared about him.  In fact, he was bullied more there than at school.  The kids could act more freely here, and they chose to act like jerks.  That's why Jason decided to stop at the park.  Nobody would miss him for a while.
I should probably get started on my homework, thought Jason, but then he remembered he had already finished it.  He half smiled.  Seventh grade was too easy for him, except for his math class.  The only reason he wasn't doing well in this class was because he had never properly learned his multiplication tables and had to calculate them on a piece of paper, and he always ran out of time before he could finish his quizzes.  Other than that, he was exceptional in all his classes.
Jason sat down at the base of a tree at the edge of the woods.  He set his backpack next to him and pulled out his sketchpad.  Jason was a natural artist.  He had never taken any lessons.  He had always just drawn what he saw, and it turned out perfectly.  But Jason had never shown his pictures to anyone.  He was afraid people would make fun of him.
Jason began to sketch a bird he had remembered seeing yesterday.  Among other things, he had exceptional memory for detail, almost photographic.
"Hey kid, let's see what you got there!"  Jason's sketch pad was ripped from his hand.
Jason was so startled that he couldn't say anything.  He looked up.  Four boys, probably eighth graders, had surrounded him while he was drawing.  The other boys started snickering at the first boy's remark.  The boy started flipping through the sketchbook.
"Nice pictures.  Who drew them – a toddler?"
Jason was infuriated, but was managing to hold his anger in, for now.
"Please, give me back my drawings," Jason said in the most polite manner he could muster.
"Sure, here you go!"  The boy started tearing pages out of the book and tossed it to his friends, who did the same.  Pretty soon, the sketchbook was shredded and in ruins.  By this point, Jason had stood up and was mortified by what they had done.
"What else you got in your backpack, kid?"  The boys were closing in.  Jason picked up the backpack and swung it at the boy, scoring a direct hit to his gut.  The boy fell to the ground and Jason ran into the forest.
"Get him!" the boy shouted.  The other boys started chasing Jason, but he already had a head start.  Jason had explored this forest on many occasions and knew his way around.  He hid behind trees and changed direction until he was sure they had lost him.
Jason threw down his backpack and sank to the ground.  He was angry.  He hated everybody.  He hated the orphanage, he hated the school.  He hated the way the system was set up – all the mean, dumb kids being popular and the smart ones being the losers.  Sure, all the teachers said that people who bullied other people weren't cool, but it wasn't true.  Jason began to cry.
"What's the matter?"
Jason was afraid that one of the boys had found him, but then settled down when he noticed that the voice was soft and caring.  He looked up.  It was Sylvia.  Jason looked back down at the ground.
"Some boys tore up all my drawings."  Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and his glasses were falling down his nose.  He pushed them back up and sniffled.
"I'm so sorry about that," the girl said, sitting down next to Jason, putting her hand on his shoulder.  "But, you've got to learn to stand up for yourself."
Jason was irritated.  "How?!  Those boys were bigger than me, just like everyone else!  I'll never be strong enough to defend myself!"
"I don't even know how to throw a punch!  And besides that, I'm too scrawny and weak to win a fight."
"I wish there was a way that I could beat them."
The girl shifted uneasily, as if trying to decide something.
She asked, "What would do if you had the ability to overpower them?"
Jason, calming down, answered, "I would stop them from picking on me and others like me."
"How?  What would you do to them?"
"I would scare them.  Threaten to take them apart unless they left us alone."
The girl seemed satisfied by this answer.
Jason, now feeling a little better, asked, "By the way, where did you come from?  How did you find me?"
She answered, "I was walking in the park and I saw you swing your backpack at that boy and run off."  She grinned, "Nice hit, by the way.  He was still crumpled on the ground when I reached the forest."
Jason mustered a small smile.  But she had not answered his second question:
"But how did you find me?  I made sure that I had lost everybody."
The girl's smile faded away.  "I guess I'm just a good tracker."
"Oh."
"Your parents must be wondering where you are.  Do you think that they're worried?"
Jason was instantly depressed.  "My parents died nine years ago.  I'm an orphan."
"I'm so sorry.  I didn't realize."
"It's ok.  There's no way you could have known."
"So where do you live?"
"At the orphanage, down the street from the park."
"Are you happy there?"
Jason couldn't have been more sure of his answer.
"No.  I don't like it at all.  And I'm not liked there either.  The kids bully me because I'm weak and powerless, and because I'm smarter than they are," said Jason, "I wish someone would adopt me, but nobody wants to because I'm just a wimp.  I don't play any sports, and I'm shy."
Sylvia wished there was something she could do to help.  But her family's lifestyle might be too… well, strange for Jason, but on the other hand, maybe not.  He was the sort of boy who could benefit from their type.  In any case, she decided to learn more about this boy before she could consider asking her family if he could become a part of the pack.
"Would you like me to walk with you back to the orphanage?" she asked.
Jason sighed.  "I guess so.  I could use the company, right now."
Jason picked up his backpack and they walked back to the orphanage together.

"Hey dad, may I ask you something?"  Sylvia was back at her house and she had remembered the promise she had made Jason during recess.  She found her dad in the shed, working on his hobby, building things out of wood.
"Sure you may, pumpkin," he replied, looking up from his partially finished bookshelf, "What's on your mind?"
She didn't know how she was going to do this, so she just asked straight out.
"Can I go to school tomorrow?"
Her father had definitely not expected this question and nearly dropped his hammer.
"What?" he sputtered, "Tomorrow is the full moon!  You're almost ready to grow your tail for the first time.  Tomorrow would be the day to do it."
"I know," she answered, looking down at her feet.
"So, then why do you want to go?" her father asked, puzzled.
"I told a boy at school that I would be there.  My word is as good as a promise."
Her father was a bit frustrated now, because he had been looking forward to seeing his only daughter progress further in her changes.  And then she had promised a boy that she would be at school.
"Now, why would you go and do a thing like that?  Didn't you remember what day tomorrow was?"
"Yes," she said, still looking at her feet.
"Then why did you do that?" he asked, now a bit concerned and upset at the same time.  "Don't you want to celebrate with us?"
"I did," she said, looking up at him, "But I've been observing this boy for a week, and he needs my help."
"Why, what's wrong with him?" asked her father, now a bit curious about this boy.
"First of all, he's picked on by just about everybody in school.  He was going to get beat up today during recess, if I hadn't stepped in to save him."
"What did you do to the bully?" her father asked.
She grinned.  "I showed him my wolf eyes and fangs.  He ran screaming like a banshee!"
"He didn't know who you were did he?" asked her father, alarmed by her action, but proud that she was able to do it.
"No, it was just some jerk.  He'll probably think it was some sort of trick that Jason set up."
"Who's Jason?"
"He's the boy I saved.  Don't worry, he didn't see anything."
"Oh," replied her father.  Then he asked, "What was the second reason that he needs you?"
Sylvia hesitated for a second, before answering, "He's an orphan."
This news had a very significant impact on her father.  When he was just a child, about Sylvia's age, his pack had been wiped out in a tribal war.  The attackers had been werewolf extremists, who believed that any pack that affiliated with humans should be wiped out. His family had been killed, but they had hidden him.  To this day, he despised everything the extremists stood for.  After the attacking tribe had left, he had been left alone.  After a week or so, another pack came and adopted him into their tribe.  He still suffered the pain of missing his parents and his family.  He felt depressed whenever someone brought them up.
"Ok then, you may go to school tomorrow.  I want you to take extra care of this Jason boy."
"His name is Jason Blaid," she said.
"Blaid?" her father was thoughtful for a moment.
"Yes.  Why?"  Sylvia was curious about her father's reaction.
"The word "blaidd" in Welsh means "wolf."
"Really?  That's interesting," said Sylvia in wonder.
"Yes… It might just be a coincidence," said her father.
"Probably," Sylvia agreed.
"In any case, I want you to tell me everything you learn about this boy in the next few days or so.  I'd like to learn more about him."
"OK.  I will."
Sylvia skipped out and her father went back to building his bookshelf, feeling sorry for this Jason, who had no family and no friends, and feeling proud about his daughter's desire to be there for him.