This Is Not a Werewolf Story by Sandra Evans Page B

drops to the ground. It must be twenty feet or more. He lands on both feet, his knees slightly bent. Like it’s nothing to jump out of a tree and land on your feet and not break every bone in your legs.
    â€œHiya, Raul,” he says.
    All the hairs stand up on the back of my neck. Hisvoice sounds like the voice of a bad guy in a movie. Friendly, but like he wants to hurt you.
    â€œYou headin’ down to meet your dad?” he asks.
    My chest feels empty and my head is too full to think.
    â€œIt’s funny how he never comes to the door like the other parents,” he says.
    I shrug.
    â€œYou ever hear of natural law? It’s the way of the woods. Big things chase little things chase littler things,” he says. “You’re not safe alone. Not in these woods.”
    You know how sometimes you get a tiny voice whispering to you to get out of a bad situation? Right about now my tiny voice gets a megaphone. Get away from this guy.
    I start walking again. Quickly. But something in me thinks that if I run, he’ll chase.
    He follows along, a step behind me.
    We pass the point where I usually duck into the woods and head toward the lighthouse. Every step I take, my stomach feels emptier, my hands wetter, my pulse quicker.
    Why won’t he go away? I don’t want to miss sunset. The secret only happens at sunset. Will it work if I get there after? If I miss a weekend, will it work the next one?
    Here’s the problem with magic. What if it’s like baking bread? Cook Patsy told me that flour, water,sugar, salt, and yeast will only make bread if you use the exact right amounts and the exact right temperatures. What if the magic of White Deer Woods only works when every step is exactly right?
    We can see the highway. I don’t know what to do. Will he wait for my dad with me? When my dad doesn’t come, will he make me go back to school? Will he make me climb the rope and run lines in the gym all weekend and drink protein shakes that taste like barf and chalk?
    The wind comes down the hill from the water behind us. My nose twitches. There’s a bad smell somewhere in it. On top of the smell of pine needles there’s a kitty litter reptile smell I know from somewhere.
    When I look back, Tuffman is staring at me.
    â€œYou worried about that coyote living in the Blackout Tunnel?” he asks.
    Bingo. It’s the Blackout Tunnel smell. For a second I feel relieved, like you do when you figure something out. Then it terrifies me. Because it means his nose is as sharp as mine.
    â€œThe area has too many predators already, doesn’t it?” he asks. “I’m curious, Raul.” He takes a long stride and then swings around and stops in front of me. “I’m curious,” he repeats. “Dean Swift tells all the teachers that you’re the expert on White Deer Woods.”
    Dean Swift talks about me to the teachers?
    â€œTell me, Raul.”
    The proud feeling shrivels up. I don’t like how he keeps saying my name.
    â€œTell me about the woods. What kinds of predators have you come across out there, Raul?”
    Tuffman’s eyes are so intense, they paralyze me. For a second I don’t see anything but the yellow rings around his pupils.
    I feel like I have to answer his question.
    He stares at me. “Anything bigger than a coyote out there, Raul?”
    I open my mouth. The secret is about to fall out.
    We both hear the engine coming down the hill at the same time. My mouth shuts. Tuffman glances back over his shoulder.
    When he looks away from me, I blink. I’ve been keeping this secret for a year. Did I almost tell it to Tuffman just now? I cross my arms over my chest. I’m cold.
    He turns back to me. “You should stay out of the Blackout Tunnel, Raul.”
    I nod. I’m trying not to look at him, but when he says my name I can’t help it.
    â€œCoyote’d make a meal of a loner like you. I guarantee it. You go back to