A Haitian Werewolf In Canada

My hour night comes around at last. All day I felt its pull. I knew I had to be far away from Ottawa, Ontario, before the full moon rose. So I boarded the bus to Kanata, and wandered into the vast fields near the town's business center. Everywhere I looked, I saw absolutely no sign of human life. This, only a few dozen miles from the Capital. Wow. At last I feel ready. The first moon beam hits me, and I rise to my feet. Mere minutes ago I was only Jean-Renaud Mondesir. Five feet eleven inches tall, slim and fit, with medium brown skin and curly Black hair. A young Haitian man from Montreal, Quebec, studying in Canada's Capital Region. Now I'm....something else.

In their infinite ignorance, human beings label my kind werewolves or lycanthropes. Depending on the culture, we're also known as wolf-men or skin-walkers. The truth is that we're not at all related to wolves. And we're not related to humankind at all. My kind are an entirely different species. We evolved the ability to look like human beings because they're the dominant species on this planet and they're notoriously xenophobic. Mongooses face snakes all the time, that's why they have a higher level of resistance to snake venom than any other mammals. My species deal with humans all the time. We've had to adapt to their xenophobia and treachery. That's why we look like them. Pure and simple. Adaptation is what all living things must do in order to survive. Doesn't matter where you live.

A lot of movies portray my kind as human beings transformed into savage beasts by the moonlight. Being what we are is often seen as a curse from the human standpoint. Well, get to know me and tell me if being me is a curse. I am ten times stronger and five and a half times faster than the healthiest of all Olympic athletes. Those guys and gals from Kenya and those power-lifting champs got nothing on me. Also, I heal rapidly from any injury. Shoot me, stab me, burn me or mutilate me. Like the night, I will always come back. Healthier than before. That's one of the many advantages that come from being me. Also, my kind age slower than human beings. Case in point? I look like I'm in my early twenties. What if I told you that I came into this world on the sixth day of February 1837. I was born in Northern Haiti, a generation after the African population of that Caribbean island defeated the colonial powers and founded the first independent Black republic in the New World.

Exactly 175 years after I was born on the island of Haiti, I attend Carleton University in Ottawa, Ontario. I'm in my second-year in the Law program. It's an exciting time for me. I've lived all over the world over the past century. I've lived in the Manaus region of Brazil, in the Camargue region of France, and also the Swaziland region of Africa. I've always been the protector of my fellow Africans, using the supernatural powers that are my birthright to defend them from those who would persecute them. As such, I fought during the American Civil War. I was living in the City of Boston, Massachusetts, at the time. Joining the war effort to liberate America's Black men and Black women from the slave-owning Southerners was an imperative I could not disobey. Thus, I was part of the legendary all-Black battalion of Soldiers the 54th Regiment. I see my abilities as a gift. And I strive to be worthy of them by doing good. No, I'm not a superhero. I'm just a guy who was born different. If I were living among my own kind, I'd have a mate, cubs and a Pack to look after. Since I'm stuck living among humans, I protect my fellow Africans from the forces of racism and bigotry in Ottawa.

There are plenty of others like me out there. Both my parents, Alfred and Louisa Mondesir are of the Pack, as my brethren collectively call one another. In the movies and poorly written horror and science fiction novels, 'werewolves' are created when a human being is bitten by a lycanthropic beast. In real life, it doesn't work out like that. In order to have a new Cub in the Pack, you meet a mother and a father. Both of them have to be members of the Pack. We cannot interbreed with humans. Not because we're racist or anything but due to the fact that we're a different species. Humans can't have create offspring with monkeys, and we can't have offspring with humans. That's the gist of it, ladies and gentlemen. Tonight, under the full moon, I shall hunt. I caught a plump rabbit and feasted. And then I roamed the wilds of Kanata until dawn. When dawn came, it found me in the arms of mother nature. Once more, I was human in appearance if not mindset.

The power I felt the night before was only a memory now. The light of the moon doesn't transform me into my true self. It only makes the transformation easier. In pretty much the same way energy drinks give human beings a boost. And just like humans usually experience a crash hours after drinking an energy drink and feeling empowered, I now feel the crash left by my transformation. I feel sluggish as I walk out of the fields of Kanata. I tucked my clothes into a tree before my transformation. I bathe in a nearby stream, washing the blood of the rabbit from my face. Finally clean, I allow myself to dry before putting my clothes back on. Then I walk for about an hour and a half before leaving the woods. Unhurriedly I walk to the nearest bus stop.

It's six in the morning. I wait for the OC Transpo bus number ninety six. It shows up at seven twenty five. I feel hungry as hell and a bit antsy. The bus driver, a chubby blonde woman with big thighs, greets me with a smile. I flash her my Carleton University U-Pass , smile weakly and I go sit in the middle. As far as bus passes go, the U-Pass is expensive but seems worth it most of the time. The bus is already full. The other passengers are all staring at me. I stare at them and shrug before sitting down. None of them are under thirty and they're dressed like businessmen and businesswomen. I know they're actually Canadian government workers. The kind of people who waste our tax dollars by taking three-hour lunches, along with cigarette breaks every twenty minutes. They're all heading to downtown Ottawa. Bunch of old crones.

I hop on bus number four at Hurdman Station. I get to Carleton University ten minutes later. I walk to my dormitory, and lock myself in. Lucky for me, my roommate Joshua Rover spent the night at his girlfriend's. He's a short, chubby white guy with red hair who craves Black women. At first I thought he was Canadian but he's actually Australian. These days, he's dating a Jamaican chick named Sholonda. I'm almost completely indifferent. I do wish he'd stop asking me why I disappear on certain nights. I don't ask him what he does with his free time. That's the thing about humans. They're curious. My kind aren't curious. We simply...know. I crash on my bed at eight twenty. It's Monday and I've got two classes. They're two hours long each. The first one is at two and the second one is at six. Criminal Psych and Criminology and Public Policy. All in all, I'm taking four classes this semester. I thought about taking five but I need breathing space.

Unlike the majority of my fellow Carleton University students, I get no financial aid from the Ontario Student Assistance program or my parents. Speaking of parents, my folks still live in North Haiti and I haven't seen them in a while. I did go back to visit them after the 2010 Haiti Earthquake, though. Family ties and all that. Nope, I'm paying my own way through school. Over the course of my long life, I've acquired quite a bit of money. Suffice to say I can afford to live comfortably. Why do I choose to live on campus? Too many of my kind fall into the trap of becoming recluses. I choose to live among humans because every predator knows hiding in plain sight works wonders. Case in point? Chameleons. They're my favorite animals, next to the banded mongoose, of course. I sleep for a couple of hours, and I wake up around one thirty six in the afternoon. I barely have time to shower and grab a sandwich before rushing to class. I barely make it on time. I sit up front, and the day officially starts for me.

Around eight, I am back in my dorm. The life of a 'wolf-man' in North America is far from the bundle of excitement the movies and novels make it out to be. What is there to do on a Monday night in boring little Ottawa? If I were in Montreal ( my favorite city next to my hometown of Cap-Haitien) I would go out and have a good time. If I still lived in Haiti, France or Brazil, where there are large populations of my species to be found, I'd go hang out with my true peers. In Ottawa, I am truly alone. I've lived here since November 2009 and I've never even glimpsed another one like me. Around nine in the evening, I fall asleep, bored. Suddenly, I am roused from slumber. It's eleven. What's going on? Why am I awake? A mysterious scent fills my nostrils. A very strange yet familiar scent.

I get up, and before I know it I'm jumping out of my dormitory window. Wearing only a T-shirt and sweatpants. Leaping out of the window is not a good idea usually, but hey, sometimes it pays to be more than human. I land on my feet in the yard below. And I soon find the source of the mysterious scent. A solitary figure emerges out of the darkness. A woman. Tall and slender, with blonde hair, icy blue eyes and alabaster skin. I stare at her and she stares at me. Instantly I know what she is. Kindred. A member of the Pack. Now, this isn't a movie. Her eyes don't flash yellow. Her teeth don't turn into fangs. Her body doesn't start sprouting hair all over the place. These things don't happen when we transform from human form into our true shapes. I stand a respectful distance away. To take any step closer to her might be construed as a threatening gesture. And the last thing I want to do is fight a female member of my species. Chivalry has nothing to do with it. She might kill me as easily as a snake kills an unwary mouse. Among my species, the females are deadlier than the males.

Finally, I break the silence. I ask her what she wants. Clearly she knows who I am, and it's no accident that she is here. The tall blonde gal introduces herself as Lea Celestine Damien. Formerly of Marseille, Southeastern France, and presently of Ontario, Canada. I relax slightly and introduce myself. Jean-Renaud Mondesir. Formerly of Cap-Haitien in North Haiti, formerly of Boston in Massachusetts and of formerly of Manaus in Brazil. Presently of Ottawa, Ontario. Lea laughs slightly as I say all that with a small bow. I stiffen as she laughs. I've always been very formal and respectful when dealing with my own kind. We must respect one another. It's what separates us from the human riffraff. Lea notices the look on my face and in heavily accented English, she tells me she didn't mean to offend me. I nod curtly. Then I ask her why she sought me out. Lea grins, and casually tells me that she thought she was the only one of our kind in Ottawa. I smile at that. I thought the same thing.

I ask her what she's doing in Ottawa and she tells me that she always wanted to visit Canada. She stayed in Montreal for a little bit and got bored. Now she was studying business administration at Carleton University. Wow. A woman from France living in Ottawa. Voluntarily. Now I've seen everything. Considering how hostile Ontario can be to French-speakers, I thought all visitors from French countries stayed in New Brunswick or Quebec. Lea grinned and told me she liked my Haitian accent and proper way of speaking French. With a gesture of distaste, she told me she found the Quebecers way of speaking French downright barbaric. I could certainly empathize. I learned to speak proper French from a friendly French nobleman in Haiti almost two hundred years ago. For in those days, a sizeable minority of French people who didn't believe in the practice of slavery remained in Haiti after the Haitians won their independence.

Lea flashed me a strange grin, then she dashed away. Without thinking, I took off after her. Even without the full moon, I was still able to transform. Into something infinitely stronger and faster than anything human. Lea ran through the campus, easily covering close to eighty feet per second. Soon she was out of the campus altogether, racing toward the woods near the river. I caught up with her. And that's when she vanished. I stood at the water's edge, and searched for her. Even with my super sharp senses on high alert I didn't sense her as she dropped from a tall tree and knocked me to the ground. Panting, Lea pressed her hands against my chest. It might have seemed like a gentle touch but she's got superhuman strength which exceeds even mine. She could have easily caused my chest to cave in. I didn't let my growing sense of panic show. I stayed calm. I smiled at her and said hello. Lea smiled at me and asked me if I had a mate. I shook my head. Grinning, she told me I got one now. I sighed, and she helped me back to my feet.

I looked at her and she looked at me. We smiled at each other. Now, this meeting might seem strange to you but every species got their mating rituals. And mine are somewhat different. We're very forward with one another. Among my kind, the females choose the males and not the other way around. Lea told me she'd been searching for me for a while. She knew there had to be one of us in Ottawa. She'd read interesting articles in the newspaper and online. And she'd seen my handiwork. Last year, a trio of French-Canadian guys roughed up a young Black man in the town of Gatineau, Quebec. They nearly killed him. The young brother's family filed a complaint with the Gatineau Police Service. They didn't do anything about it. The Black community of Gatineau grew incensed. A few weeks after the incident, the three guys who victimized the young brother got really roughed up. They nearly got killed by an assailant who moved too fast to be seen. Lea looked at me, and told me I was busted. I smiled. Okay, she got me.

We walked together, and talked. I know it sounds strange considering we actually just met, but I felt a connection with her. A powerful connection. And no, it's not just because she's six feet tall barefoot and has a fine-looking butt that Black girls would envy. Lea told me how she searched for others like us throughout Montreal. And she hardly found any. The few that she found were recluses and they found a solitary female like her to be a stray. Our culture is largely matriarchal and the same way human women who are married find single women threatening when they're hanging around their male companions, the females of my species are the same way. A single lady of our kind simply won't be welcome. Not if she's got no ties to a Pack. I told Lea she was not alone anymore. And thus, we exchanged cell phone numbers and email addresses. That's how it all began.

Around eight a.m. the next day, I met with Lea at the Tim Horton's restaurant on the Carleton University campus. It was our first 'date' if you will. Lea looked simply lovely in a Black leather jacket over a red silk shirt, Black jeans and boots. I looked pretty decent myself in a blue T-shirt, Black jeans and Timberland shoes. Lea looked me up and down and licked her lips. And just like that, we sat together. And talked so much and so long that I ended up being late to class. Just before I left, Lea gently kissed me on the lips. I kissed her back, and we smiled at each other. Yes, we've only known each other for a few hours. I looked into Lea's eyes and she looked into mine. Just as I was about to say something, a familiar scent caught my attention. It was my roommate Joshua the Australian, flanked by his Jamaican girlfriend Sholonda. They stood in line at the Tim Horton's. And neither of them looked happy to see me with Lea. Lea followed my gaze and spotted them. Grinning, she kissed me again. Joshua and Sholonda looked away.

Feeling a sudden burst of inspiration, I decided to skip class. It was a rare sunny and warm day in early September. How could I go to class on a day like this? I asked Lea if she wanted to skip school and go downtown. She smiled and nodded. Hand in hand, we walked out of the Tim Horton's restaurant together. Downtown Ottawa, here we come. A proud son of Haiti who happens to be a 'werewolf' and his gorgeous French girlfriend...who happens to be a member of the same wickedly powerful and misunderstood species. As we walked through the Carleton University campus together and made our way toward the bus station, I could feel a lot of people staring at us. I know what they see. A tall, blonde-haired and absolutely gorgeous young white woman walking hand in hand with a young Black man. If they only knew. We are so much more than that. Underneath it all, we're the same. Kindred.