“There’s nothing to do,” Stevie said for the eleventh time.

The rain fell in sheets shaking his grandmother’s windows, mocking him. He had been here forever well not forever but since Friday night. Mom and Dad had promised pinky promised to pick him up Saturday afternoon but then the rain. Highways flooded, rivers swollen, half the homes in Myersville were without power but the worst of was another night with Grandma Marie Jeanne. Stevie’s eyes narrowed. At first glance Grandma Marie Jeanne looked sweet. With rosy cheeks and hair in a satiny white bun, his grandmother seemed harmless. But they rarely visited though they only lived the next town over. Dad always found excuses to leave early or to not come at all and Mom always had that worried pinched look before their visits. Stevie was supposed to be at Wolf Mountain with Troy but Troy’s family came down with Covid and Grandma Marie Jeanne offered to take in Stevie last minute.

“Child stop worrying that curtain. Worry never solved one problem. Drink your chocolat.” His grandmother’s voice had no give. She gave simple demands and expected simple obedience.

“But there’s nothing to do.”

Grandma Marie Jeanne raised a pale eyebrow and Steve left the window. The chocolat turned out to be thick cocoa in a tiny cup. Steve drank the bittersweet concoction with one pinky extended.

“No worries my little Stephan. Mommy and your father are safe at home and we are safe here. As my grandmother would say the salt is unbroken. Your parents have one more night alone to work on their marriage. I will tell you stories from la patrie. And maybe if everything works out you will have a little brother or sister in nine months.”

Mid swallow, Stevie froze. Gears in his brain tried to turn, tried to comprehend his grandmother’s words. Stevie thought about his home in the dim light his grandmother’s sitting room. His heart beat faster.

Grandma Marie Jeanne took the Royal Daulton teacup from the silly boy’s shaky fingers. “Our people were from Normandy and my grandfather Jean was a fine farmer known for killing 1000 wolves. His skill was known across the province. You see a monster with the head of a wolf and the body of a man was roaming the countryside attacking women and children. The attacks raged for years. All hope was lose. For a purse of gold coins, Jean with my father as a young boy set after the creature. Tell me Stephan have heard of the Beast of Gavaudan?”

The boy blinked slowly.

“Good first I will tell you of the silver bullet.” Grandma Marie Jeanne refilled her grandson’s teacup and handed him a digestive biscuit.