Wolfheart

by Hallie Lee

  “What are you doing? A self-portrait? Come on, we have a lot of flyers to pass out—”

  “What?” He stared at me, oblivious. “You are really wound tight. This is Mrs. Shanna May’s car. Remember she worked in the office at school? I used to love to give her a hard time.” Mischievous, he stuck the now defaced flyer under the windshield wiper of an old Buick. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s go say hi.”

  “Good idea,” I muttered sarcastically, following him up the steps. I held back as we entered the store, allowing Petey his moment to dazzle and charm everyone in his path.

  Sprite, surprised, hopped down from his high stool to shake my brother’s hand. “Well, lo and behold,” Sprite teased. “The prodigal son has returned.”

  Petey held his finger to his lips as he sneaked up on Mrs. Shanna May, who mulled over cake mix options for her grandson’s birthday.

  “Yellow goes so well with chocolate icing,” she mused. “But if I went with white, I could do strawberry icing. Or even lemon—”

  “No right minded, respectable kid wants lemon icing,” grumbled Petey. “And if he tells you otherwise, he’s fibbing. And what is the point of white cake anyway?”

  “Oh, my word!” Mrs. Shanna May, now in her mid-sixties, fell into Petey’s arms. She blushed like a teenager. “You gave me a fright, Peter!”

  “Finally,” glinted Petey. “Someone who knows how to say my name right. Look at you,” he swooned. “Did you go and get Bo-Tox? Dang woman, you’re drop-dead gorgeous.”

  “Stop that, I’m way too old to be flattered.” But she looked flattered. She ruffled Petey’s hair. “What’s with this shaggy look? You haven’t gone and become a hippie on us, have you?”

  “Never. Besides, there aren’t hippies in Kentucky. Just hillbillies.”

  Mrs. Shanna May brought the yellow cake mix to the register. “What’s that you’ve got there, Luke?”

  I handed her a flyer. “I’m trying to get signatures for the petition, Mrs. Shanna May.” She appeared puzzled. “If we get enough, we can file it with the registrar of voters.”

  “And why would we want to do that?” She counted out her change, emptied a handful of pennies into Sprite’s cupped fingers.

  “Because then they’ll forward the certificate to the governor.”

  Sprite, high up on his perch, swiveled my way. “Good luck with that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m just saying, Luke,” he lifted his shoulders. “We got a good thing out here. Why do we wanna go and get on the government’s radar?” He tipped his head back, his throat bobbing as he drained the last of his soda.

  “That’s true. My husband likes his privacy,” Mrs. Shanna May quipped. “And he’s no fan of regulations.”

  Petey shot me a look. “That’s a legitimate concern,” he told Mrs. Shanna May. “But imagine if, God forbid, y’all had an emergency. The way things are now, the emergency response time would be terrible.”

  “Oh nonsense. Quietdove and Max do just fine.” She eyed me. “And Patty too. And what about Sheriff Rick? He’s no slouch.” She leaned in conspiratorially. “Isn’t he just the spitting image of Tom Selleck?”

  Mrs. Shanna May offered Petey one last hug before heading out the door, and the ding-dong of the door-chime seemed an exclamation on her position.

  “I reckon I’ll take a stack of those flyers off your hands, Luke.” Sprite took pity on me. “Lay ’em over there by the fishing lures.”

  “Thanks Sprite.”

  Petey directed his charismatic smile on Sprite. “How’s it going, man? I bet you’ve got all the ladies after you, huh?”

  “Pretty much,” said Sprite.

  “Seriously. You’ve gotta be the town’s most eligible bachelor now, huh?”

  “Well, me and Bubba kinda neck and neck.”

  I headed down the steps, left the two of them debating whether Sheriff Rick qualified seeing as how he had a girlfriend most of the time.

  When Petey finally joined me outside, we contemplated the number of flyers strewn across the parking lot. After my brother picked them up, he patted me on the shoulder. “Let’s head to the Cozy Corner. We’ll pass some out there, and then order lunch for Dad.”

  I looked at my watch. Suddenly glad I had his company.

  •

  “What happened with you and Tammy Jo?” I asked Petey as I shoveled fries into my mouth.

  “She’s something special, isn’t she?” By the inflection in his tone, he could have been talking about Tammy Jo or his burger. “I ordered for Dad. Should we wait?”

  “No, Mom’s probably got him running errands.” I arched my brow. “Don’t change the subject. What’s going on with you?”

  “What?” He laughed, incredulous. “Are you going to share some wisdom with me now that you’re in a relationship?”

  In a relationship? I fought back a smile. “I’m not in a relationship.”

  “You’re close enough. And for what it’s worth, I think she likes you.”

  “Really?” I tried to temper my delight. “Did Micah say something to you?”

  “Micah says something to everyone. All the time. But no.” He eyed me. “Just a feeling. Like after she sang, the first person she glanced at was you. Like she was gaging your reaction. Like it was important to her.”

  As I tried to process this incredible bit of information, I realized what Petey was doing. “Nice try, but back to Tammy Jo. It was awkward at the airport. Obviously, she showed up because she thought there was a chance to work things out.”

  Petey studied the blue Chevy truck that stopped at the four way stop. An arm flew out the window, followed by a wave and a honk. “What do you want me to say, Luke? It just didn’t work out, but we’re still good friends.”

  “You drive me crazy.” I shook my head. “The way you’re so maddeningly casual about everything.”

  “That’s your perception.”

  “Well, tell me what’s going on in Kentucky then. You’ve always been such a mama’s boy. Swore you never wanted to live anywhere but Shady Gully.” I ruffled his hair, mimicked Mrs. Shanna May’s gesture. And then I forced some seriousness into my tone. “Why did you stay so long in Lexington? I mean, besides wanting to spend time with Violet—and Aunt Robin, of course.”

  I enjoyed the flush that stretched over his face. He again studied the four way stop, clearly hoping for another distraction. When there wasn’t one, he turned back to me. “That would be weird. Violet’s our cousin, Luke.”

  “Not technically.” I contemplated my brother’s many distinctions, specifically his crooked smile, which brought me back to our childhood, when he’d light up at my approval. “Just saying.”

  “I don’t know. I like Lexington. The folks are friendly. And—”

  “What?”

  “The church. North Lake.”

  “You mean the mega church that everyone here, there, and yonder can’t get enough of?” I chuckled. “Bella watches it too. Every Sunday with her uncle.”

  “Yeah, it’s awesome. And Timothy, the lead pastor? I’ve learned a lot from him. He inspires me.” My brother’s expression grew wistful. “Being there and getting involved in the mission was great. It’s different from the strife here, which is a shame because the folks here are good people. But the spiritual leadership is—lacking.”

  “I’d agree, with the exception of Sacred Heart Catholic Church, of course.”

  “Absolutely. Father Patrick is legit.” Petey sipped his soda through a straw. “But Jesse and James are hardly inspiring.”

  “Yeah. James tries, but he’s not his dad. Brother Wyatt was a force. His fire-and-brimstone was legendary.”

  “How’s Brother Wyatt doing? Has he been to church since his stroke last month?”

  “I don’t think so. Honestly, I don’t think he ever recovere
d from the great scandal of Shady Gully.” I looked at him curiously. “I’d love to know what happened back then to cause so much trouble. I know it had something to do with Dolly.”

  Petey turned, focusing once again on the four way stop.

  “Think about how we’re still feeling the repercussions today.” I went on, “And I can’t seem to get the elders to break their code of silence.” As I studied him, he refused to meet my eye. Did he know something?

  “It certainly wreaked havoc with their family.” Petey nodded toward the matching churches beyond the Cozy Corner. “Identical twins. Identical structures. Radically different messages.” He tore his gaze off the dual steeples. “‘Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity!’ Psalm 133:1.” He scoffed. “Such hypocrisy.”

  “Crazy how you know that off the top of your head.” I watched as he shrugged, avoiding my gaze. “Hey,” I frowned. What aren’t you telling me?”

  “What? What do you mean?” Again, with the four way stop reconnaissance.

  “Hey, wait a minute. You know, don’t you? About the scandal. How the heck—”

  “I don’t know anything—”

  “Don’t lie to me, Petey. Not after you just quoted the Bible.”

  My brother winced as if I’d punched him in the gut. “I only just found out. And it’s not my place. Not at this point.”

  “What does that mean? Not at this point?” I glared at him, highly annoyed. “Come on. We tell each other everything. What’s the deal?” His reticence stoked my anger further. “And why would Mom and Dad tell you and not me?”

  “They didn’t.” He side-eyed me. “Aunt Robin did. In Kentucky. And I’m serious when I tell you, it’s not my place to say anything. Not anymore.”

  “That’s about as cryptic as I’ve ever heard. Why not anymore?”

  “Look. There’s Dad.” Petey rose, visibly relieved.

  “Petey?”

  He appeared wrung out when he turned to me. “You just need to ask Bella. Okay? That’s all I’m going to say.”

  Bella?

  We watched as Dad’s black RAM truck slowly rolled into the Cozy Corner. Unlike Mom’s minivan, it made a statement. It read, huge, powerful tank coming to save the day.

  Unfortunately, it was too late to save mine.

  •

  Dad waved at Charlie Wayne on his way to the table. When he sat down, he eyed us curiously. “Boys. I thought the goal was to get people to read the flyers, not toss them out the window. If I saw one, I saw a hundred on the way here. They were like a trail leading straight to you.”

  “We ordered for you, Dad. Charlie Wayne said he’d bring it out.” Petey asked, “Are you hungry?”

  “You bet.” Dad turned to me. “Don’t be so glum, son. It’s a process.”

  Although they were both trying to make me feel better, their upbeat support only exacerbated my frustration. Petey wasn’t invested in incorporation, merely wiling the day away passing out flyers. And now, he’d dropped a big, fat bombshell all over my sunny, blue skied day. A particularly unsettling bombshell because it involved Bella—my Bella.

  And frankly, the idea that he was privy to this information, while I wasn’t, infuriated me.

  “Where’ve you been?” Petey asked Dad.

  “Well actually, I ran into Bella.” Dad cast his eyes on me. “We had a nice chat. I’m sure you know James selected her for the creative team with high praise.”

  “Yeah, I heard. Where’d you see her?”

  “On the back roads past the house. She was headed to the creek to deliver mail. She had the radio blaring, singing along with all the tunes. Not all them worship music, if you catch my drift.” He grinned. “She’s a fiery little thing, that one. Reminds me a lot of Desi at that age.”

  “Oh brother.” Petey whistled. “That’s a red flag to consider, Luke.”

  “Here you go, Lenny.” Charlie Wayne delivered a bag of food to the table.

  “Bacon cheeseburger and fries?” asked Dad.

  “No can do,” Charlie Wayne replied. “Desi called. Told me only heart healthy for you. You got a tofu burger with carrot sticks.”

  Attempting to make amends, Petey teased me. “Another glimpse into your future, Luke.”

  Still stinging with betrayal, I leveled him with a potent glare.

  Dad reluctantly opened the bag of food. “Ah!” He beamed. “Look at all the grease on the wrapper. I knew you wouldn’t let me down, Charlie Wayne.”

  Charlie Wayne glowered at all of us. “If Desi gets wind of this, my goose is cooked. Y’all hear me?”

  Dad crossed his heart, chewed heartily.

  “And what’s with all these flyers? I’ll be lucky if my customers bother walking ’em to the trash can. If I find ’em all over the lot tomorrow, I’ll have your hide, Luke.”

  I sighed. “Charlie Wayne, come on. Would you at least keep some at the order window? Talk it up to the customers?”

  “Do I look like a talker? And no thanks to incorporation. Sorry Luke.”

  “But Charlie Wayne,” Petey came to my defense, complete with the flyer’s talking points. “Think of all the business you’ll get if—”

  “That’s just it. I got more business than I can handle now.” He glanced at my dad, as if they were on the same page. “It’s gonna be a hard sell, Luke. Folks don’t like change around here.”

  Petey tapped his finger on a leaflet for emphasis. “Think of all the good things. Like better road maintenance. And insurance would be cheaper. More fire and police protection.”

  The humidity had caused Charlie Wayne’s glasses to fog up. While I couldn’t see much through the haze, I saw enough to know he wasn’t convinced. “I gotta get back inside,” he said. Before he walked away, he gestured toward the substation. “I’d like to know what the Sheriff thinks about it. If he thinks it’s a good thing, I might consider it.”

  When Dad went back to his cheeseburger, I rubbed my temples in frustration. After a few minutes of quiet, I sensed Petey was on the verge of some banal cliché that reeked of forced encouragement.

  I gave him a look, and he swallowed back his remarks.

  “I have a thought,” Dad said. “If you care to hear it.” He dipped his last fry in ketchup, closing his eyes as he savored the final bite. “If you could convince the people across the creek that it would be beneficial to them, I think you’d have a chance of getting it through.”

  Petey and I gawked at him.

  “Just think of all the ways it would improve their lives. Things like cable television and better cell towers to start. Not to mention all the public services that would be available to them.”

  “That’s true.” My mind raced.

  Dad dabbed his napkin at a few stray crumbs. “The greatest impact of incorporation, and the biggest improvements, would be felt by them. They’d finally have a say in things because they’d be able to elect their own public officials. Folks who would represent their interests.”

  “Wouldn’t Jesse just love that?” Petey quipped sarcastically.

  “That’s a good point, Dad.” As my interest and adrenaline heightened, the unsettling thoughts of the notorious Shady Gully scandal—and how it affected Bella—faded. “People in town aren’t interested because they’ve already got everything they want, but across the creek, it’s a different story.”

  “Exactly. All you need to do now is help them see it, and their motivation and enthusiasm will follow. I’m sure of it.”

  “You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”

  “I have. And the beauty is, you know people they trust, who can explain how incorporation would benefit them. How it would create more funding in their community.” Dad gathered his lunch wrappers, stuffing them into the bag. “Starting with a decent bridge leading to the creek itself. That piddly apparatus made from
sandbags and gravel is a disgrace.”

  Petey nodded in agreement. “It’s practically duck taped together.”

  “Yep. It’s a safety hazard. Plain and simple,” Dad went on. “And there was Bella, driving across it this morning.”

  “She could help you,” Petey said so earnestly I almost forgot I was mad at him.

  “Wolfheart as well,” said Dad. “And once the cloud of Peony’s murder has passed, I’m sure he’d be glad to help.”

  “Speaking of that—” Petey started.

  I interrupted, unwilling to forgive him just yet. “—I wonder how the state search is going. Have you heard anything, Dad?”

  “Not yet.” Dad stood slowly. “But I suppose I could leave the truck here and we could take a stroll to the substation.” He rubbed his belly. “That might help me walk off this burger.”

  Aside from Dad’s skewed calorie logic, it sounded like a good idea.

  Petey tossed our garbage in a giant trash can spray painted with an arrow, and clear instructions to: Put Trash Here, Morons! We also cleared the crumpled flyers peppering Charlie Wayne’s parking lot.

  We waved at the old curmudgeon behind the window, but as usual, Charlie Wayne dismissed us with a scoff.

  Dad patted me on the back. “Cheer up, Luke. While we’re at the substation, we’ll see if we can get Ricky to add a few words of endorsement on the next round of flyers.”

  “You think he’d do that?”

  “I suspect he will.” Dad chuckled. “As long as Robin is in town.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  All Part Of The Pageantry

  Sheriff Rick

  A

  s if my day wasn’t busy enough, or twisted on its head already, Lenny came into the substation set on lollygagging some time away. Apparently, Desi had left him to fend for himself while she and Robin darted off to Belle Maison for a girl’s day, whatever that entailed.

  Luke followed him in, wearing a face as long as Texas.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Max swung his legs off his desk. “Did your dog die? Or did your girlfriend break up with you? Oh, that’s right. You don’t have a girlfriend.”