While on vacation to the Grand Canyon last week, my friends and we took Route 66 from Flagstaff to get there. There was this one stretch of land where the pine trees were thick and the bark was so dark that it looked someone rubbed it with charcoal. Think the wooded scene from Tales from the Darkside and that’s what you have. The first thought that came to mind was, “Gee, this would make a fabulous vacation for a family of werewolves.”
We all have fond family memories of going on vacation, but what would you do if your child, sibling, or spouse was a werewolf? What special things would you have to take into consideration if they had to change mid-trip?
A cruise is pretty much out of the question. Even if your family member changed into a mermaid, it’s not like the Royal Caribbean will stop to pick them up when they’re done stretching their fins. In that case, I hope you have enough money to afford your own private yacht or small scooner. Also, let’s hope the Coast Guard won’t stop to chat.
Camping would probably be the best trip for the shapeshifting relatives because there’s enough room to roam free. The beach wouldn’t be a bad idea as long as you choose semi-private. The last thing a stranger wants to see is her human child playing with a cheetah or a wolf on the beach. I can see the non-shifter husband trying to explain the scene away: “Don’t worry. That’s just my harmless wife going for a lope with your son. She likes children.”
I guess the biggest worry would be someone reporting a wild animal on the loose. How in the world do you explain it to animal control? “Sir, my husband is just going for a rabbit snack because he didn’t get enough to eat at the dinner theatre. I swear. You can even test that blood dripping from his jaw.”
The most interesting part would come from the kids, of course. We all know how well they can keep a secret when they’re five years old, right?
Mrs. Spears checked off the next name on her list. “And Rebecca, honey, would you please share with the class what your mommy does for a living?”
“Oh, my mommy turns into a lion at night and goes after deers. Sometimes, though, she’s not good at gettin’ all the blood off her paws. Daddy sometimes has to lick it for her. Then, they both flop over on their sides with their bellies full of deer meat, beaver meat, and that mean ol’ Mr. D’Amario who’s always ‘plaining about the smell comin’ from the shed. I bet he won’t ‘plain no more.”
“Oh. Okay. Um…Michele, honey, you’re uh…you’re next. I think. And Rebecca, sweetie, don’t go anywhere, okay? We should really talk to Principal Devoti after school. Maybe share this story with the school counselor, Mr. St. Giles, while we’re at it.”
Little Rebecca shook her head. “Uh uh. My mommy told me not to tell nobody. I only shared this with you ’cause you asked us to. Mommy and Daddy said nothing ’bout sharin’ it. If I told you, Mommy and Daddy might put you next to the rest of Mr. D’Amario. That would make me sad.”
Let’s not forget about the sibling rivalries. That’s a nightmare waiting to happen, especially when you have to worry about little Deborah being a werewolf and fully aware of what territorial rights mean. Poor little AJ is bound to lose an arm if she steals her sister’s doll.
Is anyone else worried about the shapeshifters in the family?