Gary opened the door, pausing to read the paper sign that was taped to the inside.

W.A. Meeting

Room 207

Gary hadn’t been in the school in years. He didn’t remember much, but he wove his way through the dark hallways, running his hand down the cool, metal lockers. 

207. He opened the door. 

Inside were four other men. They looked up excitedly from their feet as Gary walked in the room.

“Is this the W.A. meeting?” Gary asked, unsure of what else to say.

One of the men stood up and reached out his hand to Gary. 

“Absolutely, have a seat.” The man shook Gary’s hand, then pulled a small, plastic chair out from under a nearby desk. He slung it into the circle of other men. 

“My name is Alan. The city appointed me to help facilitate healthy conversation during these meetings.” Alan pointed at the other men.

“Rick,” said the closest man. 

“Billy.”

“Gary,” he said, noting the discouragement of the other participants. 

There was a long moment in which seven o’clock was waiting to be reached, and Alan kept a hopeful smile trained on the door. At exactly one minute after seven, Alan uttered a single syllable, and as he did, another man walked through the door, and Alan met him with a glare.

“Mike,” he said, grabbing a chair and sliding in next to Gary.

“Rick.”

“Billy.” 

“Gary.”

Alan stared at him for a moment, then returned to his smile.

“My name is Alan. I, myself, am not a workaholic, but hope I can be of assistance in helping you guys figure out what you need to do to better live a fulfilling life. Would anyone like to start?”

Gary looked up, surprised.

“Gary?” Alan asked, gesturing for him to speak.

“I’m sorry,” Gary said. “I thought this was something else.”

Gary reached for his coat, and as he did, he noticed the other men standing to leave. 

“No, no, wait,” Alan said, alarmed. “All of you are leaving?”

The men nodded and kept their eyes to the ground, all except for Mike, who began laughing quietly.

“What did you think this meeting was?” Alan’s gestures were strangely frantic, and Gary shook his head.

“Something else,” Gary said quietly.

“I’d like to solve!” Mike said loudly, laughing. “Is it ‘Werewolves Anonymous’ perchance?”

Gary felt his face get hot. He looked at Rick and saw a strange look of relief wash over his face.

Billy was already sitting again.

Gary cleared his throat and pulled his chair back into the circle.

Mike was grinning from ear to ear.

Alan, on the other hand, was still standing after all the others had seated. His mouth was open and his eyes were wide with confusion.

“Huh?” Alan managed.

“Sit down, Alan,” Mike said. “Facilitate!” He gestured at the circle of men.

“Werewolves…interesting.” Alan touched his chin. Well, who would like to start?” His voice shook a bit. He cleared his throat.

“I’ll start,” Mike said. “So, can you guys see in color?”

The circle muttered a clear ‘yes’ followed quickly and curtly by a resounding ‘no’ that came from Billy. 

“You bump into stuff?” Gary asked, smiling.

Billy nodded, disappointed at his sole affliction. “Do you guys change every night?” he asked.

A long silence followed.

“It’s–night right now, bud,” Rick said, patting him on the back. “So, I don’t think so. What about fleas?”

“Fleas?” Mike said. “What kind of swamp are you living in?”

“You know, just the thick fur, you know?” Rick asked, his face getting red. 

“I–I don’t really have fur,” Billy said, speaking up quietly. 

The room looked at him, nodding slowly. 

“How’s that?” Gary asked. 

“Just sorta hairless,” Billy muttered. “Have you guys seen the third Harry Potter? More like that, I guess.”

“Alright, good,” Alan said, his face still expressing concern. “There seems to be a disconnect between you all. What is a werewolf? There seems to be different types…right? Use movies to describe yourself. Mike, would you start?”

“Ok, sure,” he said. “Uh, I guess,” he trailed off, his face reddening. “Red Riding Hood?”

Gary laughed. “I think a better reference might be Twilight.”

The room laughed and Mike nodded, smiling slightly.

“Gary?” Alan said, a slight smile forming.

“Lon Chaney maybe. Benicio del Toro.”

“The classic,” Billy muttered, shaking his head.

“Rick?”

“I’d rather not say,” Rick said. 

“Oh, come on,” Mike said. “It’s probably better than Twilight!”

The room laughed, and Rick nodded.

“Ok, Van Helsing, then. With Hugh Jackman.”

“More like a furry, then, yeah?” Gary laughed.

“Yeah,” Rick said, shaking his head.

“Alright,” Alan began. “Now we’re a little bit more familiar with each other. What made you all want to come to this meeting? Are you guys shaking babies or hunting virgins?”

“Geez, Alan!” Mike said loudly. “Offensive much?”

“I haven’t tasted baby since the Civil War,” Gary said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin.

“Union?” Billy asked.

“Rebel, actually.” 

“Really? I don’t remember you.”

“Well, we found the racists,” Mike said. “And the geezers. I was only bit last Christmas.”

Rick shook his head. “Newborns, practically. All of you.”

The room was silent.

“How old are you?” Alan asked, his face now white.

“I’ll just put it this way: the Mayflower was a hostile place for a werewolf.”

The room murmured with amazement. 

“So why are you guys here tonight?” Alan asked.

Mike looked at Gary, and Billy and Rick shrugged their shoulders.

“Aren’t there supposed to be donuts at these things?” Mike asked, shifting his weight in his seat. 

“That’s half the reason I came,” Gary said. 

“Pretty hungry, too,” Rick added.

They looked at Alan.

“I forgot to get them this morning,” he said nervously. “Not really the point, anyway,” he laughed.

Billy looked up from his feet, his eyes wide with excitement.

“Dibs,” he said, standing.

“Dibs don’t work here,” Mike said, also standing, but Billy had already changed.

“You truly look disgusting,” Mike said as he eyed Billy up and down. 

Slobber pooled beneath Billy’s dripping maw.

In a flash of ripping clothes and grinding teeth, the peaceful meeting was transformed into a holding cell of two men and three large creatures. The wolves gripped and clawed, biting at each other’s throats. 

Gary still sat in his chair, opposite Alan.

“Alan,” he began. “I would make for the door if I were you.”

Alan’s face was as white as a sheet, and without saying anything, he slipped out the door. Gary could hear his feet hitting the tile as he ran for the exit. 

Gary sat for a moment, watching the wolves wreak havoc on the classroom. 

Then he stood, hearing Alan reach the exit and the door slamming closed. 

Gary smiled. He lived for the chase.