Children of the Wolf

You’ve got it on backward. And you two,” she said to the other kids, “clean up that mess. You ought to know better than to be laughing at people.”
She smiled warmly as she helped me get the shirt turned around. It was much more comfortable that way. “Don’t mind them, Gruff. I think you’re very brave.”
“Now,” she went on, doing something to the top of my shirt, “you have to learn about buttons. I’ll do the top two and you do the rest, okay?”
It was hard fitting the little round knobs into the narrow holes. I wondered why the humans would make shirts with buttons when they already had T-shirts. But finally I had it done.
“Excellent,” said Mrs. Parker. “I’ll just give your hair a little trim and you’ll look quite respectable for your first day at school.”
My neck felt strange and naked when she was done cutting my hair.
Acting like a human was hard. And the worst part of my day hadn’t even started yet.

Chapter 6
Paul and Kim and I walked to school together. As we got close to the big square building I could hear the noise of kids running and yelling and shouting.
Breakfast cereal congealed in my stomach.
“Don’t be scared,” said Kim. “Everybody’s pretty nice here.” She made a face. “Well, maybe not everybody. But most people.”
“I’ll watch out for you,” said Paul. “Just stick close to me.”
But I wasn’t really scared. Nervous, maybe, but mostly excited. I’d learned that school was something all kids did and there were no grown-ups, except for something called teachers, whatever they were.
True, these kids could do a lot of things I didn’t know about. But my wolf family was always doing things I couldn’t do and I’d been happy with them.
But now I was with creatures like me—humans. I missed my wolf family terribly but I knew I’d never be a wolf. And here I didn’t need to have a super sense of smell or to run with the pack to find my food. Already I’d learned how to use a fork and a spoon and how to wear clothes. I was a human.
It seemed to me the only hard thing I had to learn was talking. Humans were really good at that and used it for everything.
But before I was ready we were in the school yard and there were kids surging and pushing all around me.
I heard whispers. “It’s the wolf-boy! What’s he doing here?”
“Wow, he looks almost normal.”
“No, he doesn’t. He’s got a wild look in his eye.”
“I wonder if he has a name.”
“Go ask him. I dare you!”
It got weirdly quiet. Kids stopped yelling and playing to stare at me. Not knowing what else to do, I kept moving, my eyes darting around, afraid to look at anyone.
Then someone shouted, “Hey, wolf-boy! What’d you have for breakfast—chopped baby?”
The crowd of kids laughed like it was the best joke they’d ever heard. Their laughter sounded mean, cruel.
Suddenly I realized I’d lost Paul and Kim somewhere in the crowd. I was all alone!
Somebody started barking and a bunch of other kids joined in.
“RUFF, RUFF …”
“WOOF, WOOF …”
“AOOOH, AOOOH!”
I wanted to cover my ears and slink away but I didn’t dare show how scared I felt. My wolf family had taught me that. Turn tail and everybody chases you. They can’t help it.
Stand tall and sometimes it works.
So I stood tall and glared at the kids who were barking. A couple of them stopped and one even turned away. But the others laughed even harder.
Then one boy pushed through the crowd around me. He was a big kid with spiky blond hair and a nasty expression.
He came up close. “Hey, wolf-boy,” he said, sneering down at me. “What do you want here? We don’t need you.”
I swallowed hard. Even if I had the words I wouldn’t know what to say. I hoped he wouldn’t notice I was shaking.
“What’s the matter, wolf-boy, cat got your tongue?” He squinted at me, pushing his face so close to mine our noses were almost touching. I just stood there frozen, not moving an inch.
“He can’t talk!” someone yelled while I was still trying to figure out how a cat could have my tongue—anyone could see there were no cats here.
“That’s right, you can’t talk,” said the big kid, raising his voice for the crowd of kids. “But I’ll bet you can fight.”
Suddenly he reached out and shoved me. Taken by surprise, I stumbled backward. The crowd of kids moved back, making a circle around us.
Some of them started chanting. “Come on, Big Rick! Show him, Rick! Hit him, Rick!”
“Get ’em up, wolf-boy,” said Big Rick. “I know all about you, you weirdo. I’m going to mop the floor with you. You think you can come here and make trouble, you’re wrong. You can fool some of the grown-ups but not me. I know what you are.”
Fear shot through me. What did he mean? How could he know about me? Nobody knew my horrible secret except my wolf family, and they weren’t telling.
The werewolves! They knew—could this boy be one of them?
“Stop it, Rick, stop! Let me through!”
It was Paul. I turned to see him break away from two boys who were holding him.
I felt a rush of relief. My friend was going to help me!
Then something hard smashed me in the face. Pain exploded along my cheekbone.
I was so surprised I just stood there, my hand to my face.
I felt like I’d run into a tree. But it was just Rick’s fist. He had hit me when I wasn’t looking.
“Come on, wolf-boy,” he taunted. “You chicken?”
Paul appeared by my side. “Leave him alone, Rick,” said Paul, his chest heaving with exertion. “He hasn’t done anything to you.”
“Beat it, squirt,” said Big Rick and shoved Paul so hard he fell down.
Inside me, something snapped. He had no reason to hit Paul!
Suddenly I knew I was going to fight this bully and beat him. He had never wrestled with Sharpfang, my wolfbrother. Sharpfang