The Phredde Collection Read Online Free PDF

Uncle Ron.
    I wanted to get back to what he’d done that had shocked the family—I couldn’t wait to hear—but just then Gurgle brought in tall glasses of homemade lemonade for everyone, and chocolate peanut biscuits and by the time everyone had brushed off the crumbs Dad had changed the subject.
    ‘So what are you doing now, Ron?’ he asked.
    Uncle Ron hesitated. ‘I’ve retired,’ he said. ‘I had a butcher’s shop down the south coast—a nice little place. You get some really good meat down there. I sold it last year when Marg died—that was my wife.’
    ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said Mum automatically.
    ‘Did you have any kids?’ I asked.
    Uncle Ron smiled. ‘Three kids,’ he said. ‘And two of them have children, too. I’m a grandfather.’
    ‘Wow,’ I said. ‘I’ve got cousins…or second cousins.’
    ‘Cousins once removed,’ said Dad. He always knows all that sort of stuff. ‘So where are you living now?’
    ‘Well,’ said Uncle Ron, ‘Jason—that’s my oldest boy—he lives up this way. I’m staying with them for a bit, while I look around. And I thought, while I’m up here…maybe it’s time to mend the fences a bit, catch up with the family…’ Uncle Ron paused uncertainly. ‘I suppose to see if you still felt the way your grandfather did, and your father.’
    ‘Still felt the same way about what?’ said Dad slowly.
    ‘About me,’ said Uncle Ron. ‘About what I am…’
    I looked at Uncle Ron. What could he have done to make Grandad and Great-grandpa refuse to ever see him again?
    Maybe he was a burglar…or a bank robber…or adrug runner…though none of those really seemed to go with having a butcher’s shop.
    ‘I’m a werewolf,’ confessed Uncle Ron.
    No one spoke. Then Mum said stupidly, ‘But you can’t be!’
    ‘Why not?’ said Uncle Ron.
    ‘Because…because then Bill here would be a werewolf…and your father and your brothers…’
    Uncle Ron shook his head. ‘It doesn’t work like that,’ he said. ‘Maybe if our family had always married other werewolves…It’s like your red hair—not all your kids will be redheads. It’s the same with us.
    ‘Way back sometime, our family had a werewolf ancestor and every generation or two it shows up again.
    ‘Your great-great-grandfather was a werewolf,’ he said to Dad. ‘That’s why he came out to Australia. The villagers discovered his secret and it was either Australia or a stake through the heart. People were so narrow-minded in those days.’
    ‘But…but a werewolf…’ stammered Dad.
    ‘Don’t werewolves tear people into bits and eat them and…’ I began.
    Uncle Ron twinkled his dark eyes at me. ‘No way,’ he said. ‘Just like wolves don’t do that either, no matter what the legends say. Wolves are really just wild dogs. They avoid people if they can. They’d have to be terrified or starving to hunt a person.
    ‘A werewolf is only a wolf while it is full moon—no worse than any real wolf while it lasts. And we’re still ourselves while we’re wolves, good or bad as the case may be. A nasty bloke makes a nasty wolf, that’s what I always say.’
    ‘I…I can’t get used to it,’ muttered Dad. ‘A werewolf in our family!’
    ‘Ah,’ said Uncle Ron sadly. ‘I thought maybe now, maybe…’ He stood up. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I shouldn’t have come. I quite understand. Even today people are sensitive about anything different. I won’t bother you again.’
    ‘No!’ cried Dad. ‘No. I didn’t mean…it’s just, I’m shocked, that’s all. Not shocked—surprised!’
    ‘Startled,’ added Mum helpfully. ‘Taken aback, stunned, astonished, caught off-guard…’
    ‘How could Dad and Grandpa not tell me something as important as this?’ demanded Dad.
    ‘They wanted to shut their eyes to it,’ said Uncle Ron sombrely, ‘and hope that the werewolf strain went away. And to be honest…well, what sort of lives would they have had in those days if their friends knew