WereWoman Page 2

  “Well I don’t appreciate yours. You’re trying to undercut Phil, and I won’t have it. When I report to him, I’ll tell him not to take your case. Which is too bad, as he was really intrigued by your friendly thighs.” I walked past her, out the door, and took the elevator down, a little surprised that she didn’t try to stop me.

  Outside I ducked around a corner, cut back, and watched the building from another street. There was no pursuit. So I returned circuitously to the car, got in, and drove away, still alert for any tail. Only when I got safely home did I exert my primary power, speak my Name, Vul, and transform back to male. My night’s stint as the WereWoman Philomena, Mena for short, was done.

  Had I really fooled Nonce? I tried to keep my Were-form secret from all but my closest associates, like Syd, but that was one canny Witch. I could not be sure what game she was playing.

  Well, perhaps the morrow would tell. I did think it was best not to take this case, but now that I was male again, with the male hormones, I feared that I would be unable to resist the Witch’s allure.

  Chapter 2:

  Bear

  “So that’s the story,” I concluded next day at the office. “Nonce tried to hire Mena away from me, in case I didn’t take the case.”

  “She’s devious,” Syd agreed. “But that sort of thing goes with the territory. Witches are seldom straightforward.”

  “You still don’t think she’s the disaster?”

  “I don’t. But it’s looming. It will happen within the hour. Phil, I’m afraid.”

  That made me nervous again. Syd was a pretty solid person, psychologically; she didn’t scare readily. So I changed the subject. “So should I take the Witch’s case? I admit I like the notion of her friendly thighs.”

  “And I like the money.”

  “Now that I know the Warlock’s Name, I should be able to track some of his supernatural contacts, and maybe identify his killer. At least now I have a slight grasp of the case. But I have to say that Nonce herself must be a suspect.”

  “I doubt she’s the murderer, but you don’t have to guess. Get her to do her magic. Get her Name. Then you’ll know whether she’s guilty.”

  “True.” I smiled. “I like the way you encourage me to get at those thighs.”

  Sydelle was no prude. “She’s seducing you to get your business. Turnabout is fair play. Make her pay for your favor.”

  The phone rang. Syd stiffened. “That’s it! I can’t answer!”

  “I’ll do it,” I said. I picked up the phone. “Yeah?”

  “Police notification of next of kin or closest associates for one Bear,” a gruff male voice said. “Only Philemon and Sydelle are listed.”

  I felt a chill that froze my feet to the floor. “Philemon speaking.”

  “Bear was in an auto accident. He’s being airlifted to the hospital. Not expected to survive.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “Please keep us informed at this number.” I hung up. Then, to Syd: “It’s Bear. Probably dead.”

  She screamed and dropped her face to the desk. Bear was her fiancé, and my closest friend. Her disaster had struck on schedule. Much worse than I had feared.

  I sank into my own reverie of memory as my association with Bear flashed before me.

  I was maybe eight years old when I first met Bear, then ten. I was trying to evade a bully who lurked on my route to school, and took a circuitous route. There he was, a hulking boy even at that age, walking the opposite way. Was I in even more trouble? I was wary of another potential bully, but could not avoid him.

  He paused as he passed me. “You’re an odd one,” he said.

  “Odd?” I asked nervously.

  “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “You’re a Were.”

  “A what?”

  “A Were. You can Change into another form.”

  “Not that I know of,” I said. What kind of ploy was this?

  “Come into the alley and I’ll show you.”

  “Oh, no!” I said. “You beat me up, you’ve got to do it out in plain sight.”

  “You’re getting picked on? It figures.”

  “Yes. Something about me that turns other boys mean. I don’t know what.”

  “Well, I do, and we can stop it. Come; I’m not going to hurt you. Weres don’t hurt Weres.”

  There was that word again. There was something about his attitude that reassured me. “Okay.”

  We went into the nearest alley. “Now watch,” Bear said. “I’m going to Change, but I’m still the same person inside, except stronger and less smart.”

  “Okay,” I said uncertainly. I heard the capitalized Change; what did it mean?

  “I have to use my secret Name. Don’t tell.”

  “I won’t tell,” I agreed.

  “And keep an eye out. If anybody comes, warn me.”

  “I will,” I promised. This was weird.

  “I got to take off my clothes first.”

  I was too young and lucky to have encountered child molestation, so this meant nothing to me. “Okay.”

  He stripped, revealing a powerful body. Then he stood there naked, took a deep breath, and said “Bar” in a kind of grunt.

  And he Changed. His nose elongated, his ears became pointed, his eyes round. His teeth expanded. His arms and legs thickened and became hairy. He grew a tail.

  I stared. This really was different! I had never seen anything like it.

  In fact he was a small bear.

  The process must have taken fifteen minutes, but I was mesmerized. Now I understood. He was like a WereWolf, only he was a WereBear.

  “I see,” I said, too impressed to be afraid. “You really can Change.”

  The bear nodded. Then he grunted. “Rab.” And he started to Change back.

  When he was fully human again, I handed him his clothing, and he dressed. “I would never have believed it if you hadn’t shown me,” I said. “Thanks, Bear. This is awesome.”

  “That’s what I figured,” he said. “You really don’t know. I had to show you so you know what you are.”

  “I’m another WereBear?”

  “No. Just a Were. One Were can tell another, but it’s foggy beyond that. I don’t know what kind you are, just that it’s odd.”

  “How do I Change?” I asked, intrigued.

  “First you have to devise your Name. That concentrates your magic essence and helps you do it.”

  “I don’t believe in magic.”

  “You’ll get over that.”

  “I can just choose a Name, and be magic?”

  “No. It has to be the right one. You’ll know it when you find it. When you do, don’t tell anyone else, because that would give them power over you. Keep it secret.”

  “But you shared yours with me.”

  “I sense that you can be trusted. You can be a friend. I don’t have many friends.”

  “Neither do I,” I said. And that seemed to be the turning point; we became friends.

  Bear walked me on to the school. I had started early, to avoid the bullies, so we weren’t quite late. But the bullies were there. “Philly!” one called gleefully. “Comere! Gimme a kiss!”

  “A kiss?” Bear asked quietly.

  “They say I’m handsome,” I explained. “Or pretty. A boy’s not supposed to be pretty. They tease me all the time. I hate it.”

  “We’ll fix it,” he said confidently as we came up to the bullies.

  “Philly’s got a boyfriend!” a bully exclaimed. “Kiss him, pretty boy!”

  Bear’s hand reached out so fast the bully couldn’t avoid it. He caught the front of his shirt and almost lifted the boy off his feet. “How’s that, craphead?”

  “Hey, let go!” the bully exclaimed, outraged, and his friends closed in for the kill. Bear was bigger than them, but not by much, and there were three of them. This stranger had the temerity to take them on?

  Bear shoved him into the other two so hard all three stumbled awkward
ly. “What’s this about kissing?” he demanded.

  The three did not scare readily. They came forward together. “Now you’re going to get it, prettyboy lover.”

  “Are you threatening me?” Bear inquired. “Because if I thought you were, I’d do this.” His fist struck the center boy in the chest so hard it knocked the wind out of him. Without pausing Bear caught the other two by their heads and knocked them together just hard enough to hurt. “In fact I might get mad. You wouldn’t like me much when I’m mad.” It was a play on a popular movie, but he wasn’t smiling.

  They did not reply. They were too busy rubbing their bruises.

  “Now get this, morons,” Bear continued. “Phil here is my friend. Anybody beats on him or even teases him will answer to me. Got it?”

  They stared at him rebelliously.

  He stepped toward them, his strong arms reaching. “Got it?” he repeated with more force.

  Now they answered. “Got it,” the leader agreed, intimidated. He knew when he was up against a bigger bully.

  Bear nodded. “Spread the word. It annoys me when kids are stupid. I don’t want to have to do this again.”

  The two of us walked on, leaving the bullies behind. “That was something!” I said, awed.

  “Weres look out for Weres.”

  “You sure looked out for me! But I don’t know how I can repay the favor.”

  Bear shrugged. “You don’t have to. Just be my friend.”

  “I’ll be your friend,” I agreed, dazed.

  He walked me to my schoolroom, then went on to his. I was in third grade, he in fifth grade, same school.

  Between classes I passed the bullies in the hallway. They completely ignored me. They had gotten the message. They never bothered me again.

  I walked home with Bear, not for protection but because I liked him. He was the first boy who had stood up for me. Also, there was this “Were” business. He could Change into a bear, and he was sure I could do something similar. I wanted to know what. There was something about him I could sense; it could be that I was picking up on his Wereness, as he said Weres could recognize each other. We walked to and from school regularly thereafter, and no one ever even looked askance. The word had indeed gotten around. Just as well, because if they ever tried to gang up on Bear, he could Change and really maul them.

  I looked up WereWolf in my dictionary, and learned that it meant man-wolf: a man who could become a wolf. Or, in India, a tiger, or in South America, a jaguar. There were many types, and certainly a WereBear was within the framework. Were obviously meant man as in mankind, not gender, so theoretically there would be female Weres too. So was I a wolf? Bear didn’t think so; he called me odd, with no disparagement. What could be odd to a Were?

  Time passed, and I studied the subject without letting others know. I knew that just as there was continuing if muted prejudice against minorities, such as foreigners, Jews, or gays, it wouldn’t be muted against Weres. The consensus seemed to be that there were limits, such as the conservation of mass: there could not be a WereHummingbird or a WereElephant. Bear was a big boy and a small bear. Whatever I was had to be my same weight.

  One day I passed a new girl in the school hall, and felt it: she was a Were! I halted, turning to look at her, only to find her doing the same. “You’re one!” she breathed.

  “Can we meet after school?” I asked. She was ordinary, neither pretty nor plain, with short curly brown hair and brown eyes, but her Were-aura made appearance almost irrelevant. In fact it made her supremely attractive to me.

  “Yes!” She was reacting to me the way I was reacting to her. We were like two magnets.

  We did meet in the few minutes before she had to board her school bus home. We exchanged introductions. She was Molly, my age of eleven, just transferred here because of brutal teasing at her prior school.

  “I know how it is,” I said. “You must meet my friend Bear.”

  “Is he—?”

  “Yes. He scared off the bullies.”

  “Girls are mean in different ways.”

  “But maybe he can help. Look, Molly, can you miss the bus? I know my folks will drive you home if I ask them to. We’ve just got to get to know each other better.”

  “The bus is worse than the classes,” she said, signaling her acceptance of the deal.

  I took her to meet Bear. He too spotted her nature instantly, and she his. They shook hands. “I’m a bitch,” she said. “A female wolf.”

  “I’m a bear, like my name.”

  “I don’t know what I am,” I said, feeling vaguely excluded.

  The three of us walked to my home, talking all the way. Bear left us there, and I took Molly inside. “Mom, my friend Molly missed the bus, and I told her—”

  Mom assessed the situation instantly. She had never said so, but I knew she was a bit wary of my close association with Bear, maybe fearing I was going to turn out gay. I was with a girl! “Of course. Get in the car.”

  “It’s so wonderful to meet you and Bear,” Molly confided as we rode in the back seat.

  “We’re glad to meet you too.” That was about all I could say, because of course my Were nature was secret from my parents, as Bear’s was to his folks, and surely Molly’s to hers. We all instinctively knew that we could reveal ourselves only to our own kind.

  We arrived at her house in the suburb. “Thank you so much,” Molly said to Mom. Then she quickly kissed me on the cheek and got out.

  I was eleven, too young to date. Theoretically too young to love. But that kiss electrified me. I had an instant crush on Molly.

  Mom had seen it in the rear view mirror. She said nothing, but did not disapprove. I had a girlfriend. No one teased me about it, maybe because that would annoy Bear. No one teased Molly either, maybe for the same reason. Bear was the toughest boy in school, and girls admired that.

  Both Bear and Molly worked with me to find my Were-form. First I had to find my Name. I struggled, and finally centered on Luv, maybe because I loved Molly and Bear, in different ways. I repeated it endlessly, concentrating on changing, while they urged me on. And finally it happened: I felt the shift beginning. I hastily got out of my clothes, knowing they were an impediment, not caring that Molly could see me naked; she understood absolutely, and had been naked before me when she Changed.

  And I became—a girl. Both Bear and Molly stared. Then they both felt me, thinking there was some mistake. But it was true. I lost some height and got broader across the hips, and my legs filled out somewhat. I did not have breasts, but I had lost my penis and formed a vulva. I was definitely female.

  “That’s why you’re odd!” Bear said. “Maybe a girl is a different kind of creature.”

  “If Were means man, woman means not-man,” Molly said. “You’re a WereWoman.”

  I looked at her with dismay. “Does this finish you and me?”

  She laughed. “Not at all! Some time we’ll go out together in a forest, woman and bitch. Otherwise I know you, Phil. You’re definitely a boy.”

  “I definitely am,” I agreed. “I’m in a girl’s body, but I’m still male.”

  “Just as I’m still a girl when I’m a bitch,” she agreed.

  “And I’m a boy when I’m a bear,” Bear said.

  “But I think you need a little help,” Molly said. “I’ll get you one of my old dresses, next time, and show you how to do your hair and makeup.”

  “Thanks,” I said weakly. Then I spoke my Name backward, Vul, and slowly shifted back to male. I had accomplished my first Change.

  As a male I was Philemon, Phil for short. As a female I was Philomena, Mena for short. I did go for walks in the forest as Mena, with Molly the Wolf. That gave us both practice in the forms. Sometimes Bear joined us, as the bear. It was great.

  In the course of the next few months not only did I become practiced in changing forms, I began to fill out in the female manner. Molly lent me her old training bra, then a fuller one, glad to facilitate my conversion. She taught me
how to be a girl. When we went on a three-person date to a movie, Bear with two pretty if rather young girls, and the only stares we got were of envy, I knew I had graduated. I would not have chosen to be female; I would much rather have been an ordinary wolf like Molly. But at least I was getting competent with what I was.

  Next year Molly and I were twelve and Bear was fourteen, in ninth grade. She was forming into a shapely young woman. Other boys took an interest in her, but she brushed them off, staying with me. I too was maturing in my Were state, actually into an even more shapely creature. “You’re a knockout!” Bear said, and Molly agreed, without envy. But I still didn’t feel female; it was strictly an act, apart from the body.

  We saw less of Bear now, because he was in high school, but we remained in touch on weekends. We became aware of a problem. “I’d like to attend the Prom,” Bear said. “It’s the prime social event. But I have no date.”

  “There are many girls who would like to go,” Molly said. “Ask one.”

  He fidgeted. “I’m not good with girls. I like them, but I can’t handle them the way I can boys.” It was true; he had no girlfriend. He was big and strong, and girls admired him, at least from a distance, but he wasn’t much for social graces. He would mess it up if he tried to ask one, humiliating himself.

  I remembered how much I owed him. I thought of a way to perhaps repay some of it. “Maybe you could take Molly. There’s no age limit on dates.”

  “She’s your girl! I wouldn’t touch her.”

  Molly picked up on it. “You wouldn’t have to kiss me or feel me. Just escort me and dance with me. Treat me like a lady. I could show you what to do, beginning with some dancing lessons. It could be fun.”

  He gazed at her with dawning hope. He was a klutz with girls, but Molly was different, being another Were. “You’d do that?”

  “Weres look out for Weres.”

  He was almost tearfully grateful. “Thank you! Thank you!” Then he looked at me. “If it’s really okay with you.”

  “It was okay with me the moment you took care of those bullies, that first day.” It was true; I’d do just about anything for Bear, and I know he wouldn’t make a move on Molly.

  We prepped him, helping him pick out the right clothing for himself, and a corsage for Molly. She danced with him, teaching him the steps, until he got it right. It was time consuming and expensive, but worth it. In the process I learned about dancing and proms too; that should help when I got to high school. I even practiced some as Mena, learning to let the man lead, learning to be girlish. I needed to be able to fake it, if I ever got caught out in that form.