Sam and Tray wandered among the regulars, allowing themselves to be petted as if they were regular tame animals. While they were doing that, the newscaster on television was visibly trembling as he faced the beautiful white wolf Patricia had become.

“Look, he so scared, he shaking!” D’Eriq, the busboy and kitchen helper, said. He laughed out loud. The drinkers in Mer lotte’s relaxed enough to feel superior. After all, they’d handled this with aplomb.

Jason’s new buddy Mel said, “Ain’t nobody got to be scared of a lady that pretty, even if she does shed some,” and the laughter and relaxation in the bar spread. I was relieved, though I thought it was a little ironic that people might not be so quick to laugh if Jason and Mel had changed; they were werepanthers, though Jason couldn’t change completely.

But after the laughter, I felt that everything was going to be all right. Bill and Clancy, after a careful look around, went back to their table.

Whit and Arlene, surrounded by citizens taking a huge chunk of knowledge in their stride, looked stunned. I could hear Arlene being extra confused about how to react. After all, Sam had been our boss for a good many years. Unless she wanted to lose her job, she couldn’t cut up. But I could also read her fear and the mounting anger that followed close behind. Whit had one reaction, always, to anything he didn’t understand. He hated it, and hate is infectious. He looked at his drinking companion, and they exchanged dark looks.

Thoughts were churning around in Arlene’s brain like lottery balls in the popper. It was hard to tell which one would surface first.

“Jesus, strike him dead!” said Arlene, boiling over. The hate ball had landed on top.

A few people said, “Oh, Arlene!” . . . but they were all listening.