Page 87 of A Malicious Menagerie
“A garbage bagwouldbe sexier than this.”
“If you think that’s bad, just wait for what else I have in store for you.”
We spend the next half hour picking out outfits for each other, and it becomes something of a competition to one-up the ridiculousness on each turn. Chase squeezes himself into a flying squirrel onesie; I try on a paisley dress with bell sleeves straight out of the seventies. Chase dons a sequined blazer that would be at home on an Elvis impersonator, and I strut my stuff in a snakeskin miniskirt. I’m pretty sure Chase isn’t beingsarcastic when he suggests that I buy that one.
Even Nan gets in on the fun with a black-and-white cowhide hat and a vest so fringed it resembles a bowl of spaghetti. It gets caught in her wheels, and we’re all in stitches as we struggle to free her.
By the time we walk out, we’re all smiling. And even though I haven’t completely shaken the slimy feeling in the pit of my stomach, at least it’s a start.
38
The Pack
It takes us a total of six days to reach Bellingham, Washington, which is a port city only twenty miles from the Canadian border. Once we arrive, we’re dismayed to hear that the ferry to Whittier only leaves once a week, and we’re three days out from the next boat. We spend the time resting in a motel room near the port, and I can tell Nan is grateful for the respite.
Chase, on the other hand, is restless, pacing the room at times and tossing and turning where he sleeps on the floor in wolf form. When I ask him about it, he only rumbles, “We’re so close.”
After being away from his family for so long, I don’t blame him for his agitation. I wish I could help him, but all I can do is assure him, “We’ll be there soon.”
“Thank God I have you,” he rumbles, leaning in to kiss me softly. “Otherwise, I’d go crazy.”
It takes everything in me not to tumble him onto the bed and have my way with him.Nan. Think about Nan.I glance over to where she’s lying on one of the beds watching a soap opera before turning back to Chase. “Funny, because being with youdrives mecrazy,” I deadpan.
He grins, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Then I’m doing my job.”
* **
The ferry ride takes five days, and they feel like the longest days of my life. Apparently, I’m prone to seasickness, which I would never have known since I’ve never been on a boat before.
“Why,” I groan, leaning over the railing on the ferry’s deck after upchucking over the side. The brisk ocean air gusts over my flushed cheeks as the ferry motors along through the Pacific Ocean.
“I’d say if I knew how seasick you’d get that I would have come up with a different plan,” Chase says from beside me, “but therewasn’tanother plan, so here we are.”
“Here we are,” I agree, waiting for my stomach to stop lurching. Chase’s hand rubs soothing circles over my back, and it helps. Some, anyway. I squint one eye open to peek at him. “How much longer?”
He grimaces. “About thirty-six hours.”
“Noooo,” I groan, wondering if I’m going to make it.
As I’m contemplating just tossing myself over the railing and ending the torture, a child’s voice breaks through my misery. “Look, Mom, a whale!”
“Would you look at that,” his mother replies, but I can tell her attention is elsewhere.
A spark of curiosity beats back the worst of the nausea—I’ve never seen a whale in real life!—and I manage to raise my head to peer out at the black water. Then, I go completely stiff when I see what the little boy must have been pointing to.
Whale, my ass. Maybe I would have assumed the same thing, had I not seen a sea serpent for myself. This one has blue scales that glimmer under the gray, overcast sky, but I recognize the spines down the length of its sinuous body as it breaches the surface before disappearing again.
Beside me, Chase mutters a low curse. “Is that…”
“It is,” I agree, and my stomach is a mess of equal parts fear and awe. I remember the shipwreck at the bottom of the red serpent’s tank, and this little ferry won’t put up much of a fight if this one decides to come looking for a snack. Still, there’s something magical about being one of the few who knows what’s out there. I’ll never look at the world the same, and honestly, I wouldn’t want to.
Chase and I wait with bated breath, but the leviathan never surfaces again. And as the ferry draws closer to the southern Alaskan coast, I can’t help but wonder what other wondrous beasts I might meet now that my eyes have been opened.
* * *
Thankfully, I survive the ferry, though my intense hatred for boats will probably last a lifetime.
Back in the car, I can tell Chase is antsy, his eyes watching the landscape avidly as we pass it by. It is beautiful, with emerald pine trees and towering, jagged mountain peaks everywhere I look. It’s like nothing I’ve seen outside of a movie, and as we pass through Denali National Park, I can’t believe that this is where I’ll call home.
