by A M Burns
“Mom, we drove out this way last week.” Finn stared at the llamas grazing near the side of the road. “I thought Dad said something about it then.”
“He might’ve, but there’s just so much going on right now. Plus, you know I always remember things better when I comment on them myself.”
“Verbal recognition,” he replied in the same tone she always used when explaining her need to voice everything she saw.
“Right. Now, according to the website, the turn should be near the top of the hill.” She frowned. “How do you tell around here where the top of a hill is? Everything’s uphill.”
Finn watched the road and, after a minute, spotted the logo for the wolf center. “There’s the turn.” He pointed toward the square sign with the howling wolf.
“Ah, good eyes. You know, I keep hoping that neither you nor your sister will develop my nearsightedness. It’s a real pain.” She flipped on the blinker and braked.
Finn took a deep breath and tried to slow his pounding heart. In the three days since he’d met Ivan and Midnight, his dreams had been filled with black wolves with glowing yellow eyes. He’d spent more than a few hours searching websites about wolves. The site for High Mountain Wolf and Wild Dog Center had been very informative and held links to other sites with things like studies in wolf behavior, conservation status, and mythological lore. He’d found a lot of pictures of Midnight and the other wolves at the center. Not so many of Ivan, though.
He glanced at the clock on the dashboard with its orange numbers—12:50. “Mom, are we going to be late? The tour starts at one.”
“We should be fine.” She slowed down to avoid a series of ruts in the dirt road. “The site said they were less than two miles off the highway. Unless this road gets worse, we’ll make it. Besides, we RSVPed. We’re on a list. They’ll wait for us.”
“I hope so.” He held on to the dash as they rattled over some bumps that stretched across the road.
The clock read 12:57 as they pulled into the tall gate that opened in the high fence surrounding the compound.
“Why is the fence so high?” His mother asked as she angled the car toward the others parked near a small building to their right.
“According to their website, they put in a taller fence a few years ago just to be on the safe side. Something about some of the other local centers having problems in deep snow.”
After she parked the car, she stared up at the ten-foot fence. “I don’t know if I’m going to like it around here if the snows get higher than that fence. The real estate agent didn’t say anything about extremely deep snow.”
Finn didn’t answer as he undid his seat belt and opened his door. He was halfway to the building when his mother called.
“Finn, wait up!”
He glanced back over his shoulder but didn’t slow his stride. “I want to make sure they know we’re here and don’t leave us behind.”
Beyond another gate, a large group of people stood around as if waiting for something. Bolstered that they might still have time, Finn stopped and held the gate for his mother.
“Thank you for at least waiting for me here,” she snapped as she walked past him.
As they made their way to the group of people, one older woman turned toward them. “Are you two the ones we were waiting on? We’ve been here ten minutes, and they won’t start yet.”
“Maybe,” Finn’s mother said. “Do we need to check in?”
“Over there.” The woman pointed to the lady Finn recognized as Ivan’s mother. She stood off to one side with a clipboard.
“Thanks,” Finn’s mother said and walked toward her.
“Aw, are you the last two on my list?” Ivan’s mother asked.
“I hope so,” Finn’s mother replied. “Lisa and Finn Ryan. I registered online last night.”
“Got you right here,” Ivan’s mother replied, then pulled a couple of pieces of paper from under her list. “I need you to sign these. You should’ve gotten a copy of them in e-mail when you registered. They’re just standard insurance waivers. If something unfortunate should happen, the center isn’t liable. We have to do it to be able to take you on the tour.”
“Right, I understand,” Finn’s mother said, but she shot him a hard look that said if anything happened, he’d be the one responsible. She scanned over the forms before signing both of them and handing them back.
“Thanks.” Ivan’s mother slipped the forms back under her list on the clipboard and set the stack on the small metal table near the next gate. “Okay folks, we’re ready to start the tour now. I want to remind you to keep your fingers out of the enclosures. We’ll be going in with some of the wolves, but some of the others don’t like being pointed at and can get aggressive.” She opened the gate as Finn’s mother put a restraining hand on his arm when he started forward.
He looked at her. “What?”
“Wait your turn.” She hissed. “We were the last ones here. We should be the last ones through the gate.”
He slumped his shoulders and bowed his head in disappointment. “Okay.”
“You know, in wolves that’s a sure sign of submission,” said Ivan as he strolled toward them.
Finn perked up at the sight of the handsome teen. “That’s what I’ve heard.”
The last of the group made it through the gate, so Finn’s mother gestured for him to go.
“Mom, this is Ivan. His mother is leading the tour.” Finn slipped through the gate.
“You’re the young man Finn met at the farmers’ market,” his mother replied. “Thanks for helping get him out of the house.”
“It’s my pleasure, Mrs.… I don’t think Finn gave me your last name the other day.” Ivan held out his hand to her.
“Ryan. Mrs. Ryan.” She returned his handshake. “It’s a nice place you have out here. From what Finn says, you do good work with the wolves.”
Ivan cocked a bushy brown eyebrow as they trailed the group down the hill between a series of large chain-link enclosures. Thankfully, he appeared clear, and not fuzzy. “We try to. I didn’t think I told Finn that much about what we do.”
Finn was torn between talking with Ivan and crawling into the nearest hole hoping any wolf around might eat him. “I kept the flyer and looked you up online. You’ve got a very extensive website.”
“Thanks.” Ivan beamed. “I maintain the site for my folks. It saves them from having to find a volunteer to do it, and I love computers. Code comes naturally to me.”
“Then you might have a bright future ahead of you,” Finn’s mother said as the group stopped and stared into a pen where two large gray wolves lay under a scrawny pine tree.
“Maybe,” Ivan said. “My folks want me to follow in their footsteps and take care of the wolves. I don’t want to let them down.”
“Your folks or the wolves?” Finn asked.
“Yes.” Ivan flashed him a smile that left him confused more than the nonanswer. “These two”—Ivan gestured to the wolves—“are the laziest wolves we’ve got. Well, wolf hybrids. They’re really mellow and complete pigs.”
“They look laid-back.” Finn peered around the heads of the people gathered at the pen, trying to see if the wolves were moving at all. They looked like they were asleep.
“At least they’re not pacers,” Ivan dropped his voice low enough that Finn figured the other members of the tour couldn’t hear him. “I worry about the ones who pace constantly.”
“Like they want out?”
Ivan nodded. “Exactly. I understand them, but there’s only so much stimulation we can do with our limited space. Maybe if we had enough room for huge pens, it would help. But we don’t have that kind of space for the number of packs we have.”
The group started forward, and they continued to trail along. Finn relaxed more as his mother slipped further into the group.
“Yeah, I saw on the website that you try to keep them in packs.” Realizing the group would be stopping at most of the enclosures, Finn didn’t bother
trying to keep up. He let Ivan set their pace.
“Wolves are like humans. They need a social structure or they go a little nuts. Sometimes they can get lucky and find humans who can be that structure for them, but wolves and wolf-dogs don’t make good pets. They take a special kind of person to get along with, particularly one-on-one.”
The group stopped at an enclosure with a single wolf in it.
“Why is this one alone?” Finn asked, looking at the magnificent white canine.
“She’s a fighter,” Ivan explained. “Too aggressive to be allowed to interact with others. We tried a couple of times, but she goes after even the lowest of the omega wolves. We can’t afford the vet bills of trying to settle her with anyone else.”
“I bet she’s lonely.” Finn stared through the fence as the group moved on. The female wolf’s blue eyes met his for a moment. It wasn’t as intense a gaze as Midnight’s had been, but it held him and reached out to him. It was almost like he was looking into human eyes. A chill passed through him.
“She is. She’s always happy when Mom or Dad go in and spend some time with her, but she’s very picky about who she lets into her enclosure.”
“Finn, don’t fall behind!” his mother called, pulling his attention away from the white wolf.
“What’s her name?” Finn asked as they walked toward the next enclosure.
“Singer. She’s one of the most vocal wolf hybrids we’ve got.”
Finn glanced back over his shoulder and watched as the big wolf rose and walked around to the back of a huge log and lay back down. “Singer. She’s a pretty girl.”
“That she is.”
As the tour continued, Finn absorbed more information from Ivan about the residents of the center. Ivan had little stories about each one that he hadn’t bothered to put on the website. It made them all sound like real individuals, almost people, to Finn. Some of their stories detailed past abuses at the hands of the people who’d had them before they came to the center. Finn knew people could be cruel—he’d seen it many times at school and had even borne the brunt of a bully’s taunts and fists more than a few times himself. It made him feel a kinship to the animals.
At the end of the tour, Ivan’s mother walked up to a gate and paused. “For those of you who want to, we can go in with these wolves. They’re young and accustomed to visitors, but we’ll still have to go in a few at a time.” She paused and seemed to count the visitors. “Three groups, I think.”
Wanting to get hands-on with them, Finn started forward, but Ivan caught his arm. Ivan’s big, warm hand sent shivers through Finn.
“Wait,” Ivan whispered. “If your mother’s okay sticking around after the tour, we can go in without everyone else. I know my mom’ll be okay with that.”
“Let me ask my mom.” Finn slipped out of Ivan’s grasp and walked to his mother. “Hey, Mom, Ivan says if we wait until after the tour, he can take us in without everyone else around.” He kept his voice low, like Ivan had.
Her face lit up a bit. “He’s sure his mother won’t mind?”
“He’s sure.”
“That would be nice. I’ve never been around wolves before. This has been really interesting.” She gave him a big hug. “Thanks for thinking of this. We’ll have to bring your father and sister back.”
He tentatively hugged her back, then moved out of her arms as his face warmed. “Thanks, Mom.” He flashed Ivan a thumbs-up.
Fifteen minutes later, after the other members of the tour had been through the small building that served as a combination office and gift shop for the center, Finn and his mother headed back to the big pen with Ivan and his mother.
“So you’re the young man Ivan met the other day.” Ivan’s mother stopped at the gate and studied Finn. “I think you were at the table with a girl when I dropped off some shopping.”
Finn nodded. “That’s right. That’s my sister, Shelby. She wanted to get her hair done today, so Dad took her there and Mom brought me up here.”
“I’m glad she did.” She looked at Finn’s mother. “Lisa Ryan, right?”
“Right.”
“I’m Karen Dubovasky.” She opened the gate. “You two both heard what I told the others.”
Ivan rolled his eyes. “Mom, we both know these guys aren’t going to hurt anyone. They’re friendlier than most dogs.” He gestured for Finn to follow him into the pen.
“What are their names again?” Finn asked. “Sorry, but there’s been so many today.”
“No worries.” Ivan gestured to the three wolves all sitting on the roof of a short wooden lean-to. “The big one there is Country. The one with the dark face is Metal and the blueish one is Blues.”
“Did you name them after types of music?” Finn asked as he slowly approached the lean-to.
“Caught right on to that, huh?” Ivan chuckled. “They’re all nearly as vocal as Singer, so it sounded like a good idea. But we had to compromise. I wanted to call Country, Disco, and Dad wanted to call him Folk. Mom stepped in and we went with Country.”
For a moment, Finn was lost to everything but the look in the wolves’ eyes. They were all so intense. They seemed to follow every one of his movements. A tremble went through him, and he understood why people used to fear wolves. Standing there he realized that men weren’t the top predators. There were other things in the world that could do harm to men, anytime they pleased.
“You can pet them if you want,” Ivan said, breaking Finn’s concentration with the wolves. “You’ve also got to be careful staring like that with some of them. They’ll take it as aggression and respond in kind.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Finn forced himself to look away from the wolves for a moment. “They’re just so incredible.”
“That they are.” Ivan strolled past Finn and ran his hand over Country’s head. “But some of you guys are just big lugs.” His tone changed, going higher and sounding more playful. The big wolf leaned toward him and licked him. “See, nothing to worry about.”
Finn laughed. “I guess you’re right.” He walked over and went to pet Country, but Blues pushed his head under Finn’s hand first, demanding some attention. Thick fur tickled Finn’s fingers as he stroked the wolf. It was rough and soft all at the same time. He tried to remember if he’d read anything about that in his research, but Blues licked his fingers, and everything else stopped mattering as he settled into petting the wolves.
A giggle nearby surprised him, and he glanced over to see Metal licking his mother’s face under the watchful gaze of Mrs. Dubovasky. He’d hoped his mother would enjoy coming out to see the wolves, but he hadn’t heard her laugh in such a long time that a warmth filled him because he’d helped bring a little joy into her life.
When Country pushed Blues out of the way to demand attention from Finn, he caused Ivan to stumble slightly and bump Finn.
“Hey, sorry,” Ivan mumbled.
“No worries. He’s just pushing you around, right?” Finn started using two hands to be able to pet both wolves at the same time.
“Yeah, but I have to be careful letting them do that too often or they’ll start thinking they’re in charge.” Ivan settled against the front of the lean-to. “That’s one of the biggest things about working with these guys: making sure that they always think you’re in charge so they don’t run you over.”
“And speaking of being in charge,” Mrs. Dubovasky cut in, “we need to get busy. We’ve got pens to clean this afternoon.”
Finn’s mother straightened with a wide grin on her face. “Sorry to take so much time.”
“No problem. I think our boys are becoming friends. Ivan needs some friends.”
Ivan doesn’t have many friends? Finn thought as he looked at the bigger young man. He didn’t look like a social outcast, unless he did drugs. Finn pushed that idea away. Ivan didn’t act like a druggie. He wondered if Ivan might be more popular than his parents realized.
“Finn does too.” Finn’s mother dusted off her hands. “We just mo
ved here from Austin, Texas.”
“Wow, you’re in for some major acclimation,” Mrs. Dubovasky said. “But Woodland Park is a great place to be. Good for raising kids too.”
“Thankfully, our two are nearly raised. Finn said something about you guys needing volunteers?” his mother asked as she and Ivan’s mother walked toward the gate. Metal bounded after them, walking between them and demanding more petting.
Finn glanced from the two wolves to Ivan. “I guess the moms have spoken, and it’s time to go.”
“Yeah, but something tells me you’ll be back.” Ivan gave Country a parting pat and started following. “Your mom seems to like the wolves as much as you do.”
“I think they managed to touch something in her.”
“They’re good at that. A lot of folks find themselves changed after interacting with wolves, actually any nature. But there’re people who claim wolves can be a particularly spiritual connection.”
With a parting look at the two wolves on the lean-to’s roof, Finn wondered if that was what he was in the middle of—finding a spiritual connection with the wolves. He wouldn’t complain about that. It would give him something amazing in his life. He strolled after Ivan with happy thoughts and feelings running through him.
3
Finn yawned and glanced from his computer out his window. The thick green of the tall trees surrounding their new house was something he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of. The pines were different than the oaks and maples that had made up the yard he’d grown up with in Austin. Even though he knew they were evergreens and would be green through the winter, he was used to trees losing their leaves, so it would take some getting used to.
His computer beeped, announcing the arrival of an e-mail. He didn’t recognize the sender’s name, but he was bored and opened it anyway.
Hey Finn,
I was wondering what you were doing this afternoon. I’ve got the day off from shoveling wolf shit and am going to go hiking. Do you want to go?
