Page 14 of Foxed Up

"Come on, buddy. It's gonna be all right. You'll see. Wallace won't hurt you."

"I'm not scared," said Eli, too quickly.

Could he really be afraid of the unassuming, librarian-looking Wallace? He looked so mild-mannered, kind, respectable, and frankly, not half as strong as he was. It was difficult to imagine even a nine-year-old being afraid of him. But of course, the real issue wasn't thinking Wallace would hit him or yell at him, but that he'd steal me away somehow, so I didn't love Eli as much or forgot about him.

"Nothing bad is gonna happen, buddy," I promised, and kept a close eye on him as he got ready for the meal. I enlisted his help carrying non-breakable things out to the picnic table, while Wallace manned the grill, flipping burgers with a flourish.

Mom sat down at the picnic table to rest till it was time to eat, and Eli stayed close to her, playing with one of his toys on the bench seats, and sneaking glances over at Wallace, or me, or both of us in turn. I tried very hard to act normal, mellow, and calm, as if this was something we did every day and I wasn't scared out of my mind how they'd react to one another. It was fine to say this was the first step, that it wasn't that big a deal and everything would be fine, but itwasa big deal for Eli.

I wondered if I'd done enough to reassure him this would be okay. If we should've waited, or done this a different way. Perhaps Wallace coming here was too much, and we should've met first in a neutral location.

Wallace was being quiet but effortlessly charming, in a way that I couldn't help but be in awe of. He had that certain quality that he seemed able to turn on and off at will, where one minute he was just an ordinary, nearly-invisible, rather mousy man going about his business, and the next he was the most vibrant person in the room and it was impossible to look away from him.

He drew the eye; people noticed him. Yet he could put on the camouflage of boring nerd easily. I didn't understand how he did it, but it amazed me. I'd only recently become aware of it, but now I caught my breath every time. I knew he liked his privacy, but it was amazing to me that anyone so handsome and charismatic would ever hide it.

Me, I tended towards the gruff and irritating end of the scale. But Wallace could've charmed the socks off anyone if he tried. Most of the time, he'd just rather be invisible. It made me think of his fox form, and the ways foxes behaved, real foxes, I mean. Anytime I've seen a fox in the wild, that brief glimpse of red fur and lithe, sleek life, a creature living on its own terms and so fully alive, it takes my breath away. But most of the time, people never see foxes, even if they pass by one's hiding place quite closely.

I could count the number of times I've seen a live fox in the wild, all of them brief. Maybe that's how Wallace got to be the way he is. He's so very alive, so perfectly amazing and beautiful it's hard to look away, but he'd rather stay concealed, watching from the undergrowth, aware of everything but mostly choosing not to get involved.

Today, he'd turned on a mild version of that charm, very easy-going and friendly, and as we sat down to eat, I could feel Eli's hostility and fear beginning to be replaced by bewildered curiosity. I hoped he was going to behave himself. While I didn't want him to be too frightened and shy to talk at all, I was all too aware of how he might act if he started to feel safe, and was holding my breath. I figure kids can read you better than you can read yourself, so I was trying extra hard to keep a poker face about that fear, so I didn't get him started with the acting out. But I was under no illusions it wasn't coming.

And...there it was.

Kicking his feet under the bench seat of the picnic table, Eli ran a toy car along the tabletop, making it bump and clatter loudly. "Do you eat rats?" he asked all of a sudden, in a loud voice that cut through the polite adult small talk we'd been exchanging about the food and weather.

I winced and gave Wallace an extremely apologetic look.

He focused on my boy, pausing mid-chew to stare at Eli. Then he swallowed, hard. "What?"

"Do you eat, you know, rats?" Eli had a small, triumphant smile on his face, the little shit. I'd known he'd try to push boundaries, but I hadn't expected something as bad as this. He ran his car along the wooden table, making it clack loudly in the silence. "When you're a fox," he added, in case it hadn't been clear.

"Oh, when I'm a fox," said Wallace, not looking appalled or shocked at all. "Yeah, I eat rats if I can catch them. But I actually like voles betters. They're smaller, more tender, and the meat is more delicate. More filet mignon than a big, tough steak. Do you know what filet mignon is?" he asked with genial curiosity.

"Yes," said Eli, his eyes gone huge. "Is that what — what that's made from?Voles?"

Wallace smiled. "No, no, of course not. That's beef, same as hamburger. I'm comparing the flavors that I like — voles — to another meat I like — filet mignon. It's not a completely true comparison, but flavor, texture, delicacy — it's an analogy. A way of explaining."

Eli nodded, his eyes gone even bigger. "You eat it raw?" he asked, almost in a whisper.

"Yes, but I make sure they're dead first," said Wallace, looking him right in the eye. "I wouldn't want to be cruel."

"Ew," breathed Eli with rapt attention.

"Well, it's not really any worse than eating other meat. It's fresh, healthy when I'm a fox — not for humans — and it's not inhumane if you catch them right."

Mom coughed into her napkin — quite a long cough, almost a coughing fit. I looked at her to see if she was all right, but she waved me off, as drawn into this conversation as I was, both of us stunned speechless by the frank discussion.

"And it tastes like filet — filet — that meat," said Eli meditatively. I could almost see the little gears turning in his head. We'd only eaten filet mignon once. He'd liked it. I'd told him it was too expensive to buy again right now. He looked at me. "Daddy, if it's cheaper than..."

He let the words die off, as his grandmother and I were already vigorously shaking our heads. "No! We don't eat voles."

Wallace laughed softly. "I don't think humans can. Only foxes." He dabbed delicately at his mouth with a napkin, and we stared at him again. "Sorry for making you curious. To be honest, I'm making myself hungry for them. The soft meat and the little crunch of bones." He really did look like he was enjoying the thought.

Eli stared at him, and dropped his toy. He looked down when he realized it had clattered down. "Oops." He climbed down and fetched it, and when he got up on the seat again he had more questions. "Do we have any voles here? You could catch them and eat them if we do." He looked wildly curious and excited at the idea.

"Oh. I wouldn't do that." Wallace looked faintly alarmed. "Not here. I don't know if it's really safe to be in my fox form here. I have to be careful. There can't be any risks, I have to have a plan...I don't just shift on a whim."

"Does it hurt?"