by Jane H Wood
‘No matter. Things will sort themselves out,’ said Bob, noting their reactions.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Edmund, feeling his stomach turn over.
‘It means the hunt isn’t over,’ replied Bob with the faintest smile curling the corner of his mouth. ‘The men are out there now, hunting your precious wolves. And they will find them, mark my words, and when they do, young ranger, that will be that!’ he announced with finality, continuing to stare at Edmund, realising he’d hit a nerve.
Unflinching, Edmund returned the stare, refusing to be goaded into saying something that he might regret.
‘Excuse us, Max. We are very tired,’ said Edmund, turning to his chief ranger. And not waiting for a reply he stood up to leave the office. He could feel Bob’s eyes on his back, watching him stride towards the door. Josh seized the opportunity to join him and darted out of his chair, relieved to get out of there.
The two young rangers changed quickly out of their work clothes and pulled on their pyjamas.
‘We say nothing!’ Edmund ordered, whirling round to face Josh.
‘Agreed,’ confirmed Josh, climbing into bed and pulling the covers over himself.
Edmund let out a frustrated sigh, slipped under the covers and lay there, fatigued, his body aching but his mind busy processing what GoldenEars had told him, and also what he’d heard downstairs, and the insinuation behind it.
He stared fretfully at the darkened window, wondering what was happening all those miles away. The more he pondered, the more confused he felt, and a surge of anger shot through his mind. He was wasting time idling here. He should find his wolf.
With a huge effort he forced himself to calm down by listening to the deep regular breaths of his fellow ranger, now asleep in the bed opposite. He knew tomorrow he’d have to say something; after all, Max deserved an explanation. But, he wondered, perhaps Gus has already told their chief ranger about his disobedience.
The next morning Edmund was sitting bleary-eyed in Max’s office. He’d had a restless night worrying about this meeting and what the outcome might be. Sitting beside him was Josh, with Keith and Gus on his other side.
Max entered casually, his expression not giving anything away as he sat behind his desk.
‘Ah, morning, everyone. Good to have you all back safe and sound. I’ve been reading your report, Gus, concerning the incident at the mountain. And to summarise… well, let’s just say it’s a miracle none of you were killed by that mob who caught up with you. It is my belief, Gus, that you did everything possible to avert the accident, and if it wasn’t for your bravery and quick thinking in defusing the situation we’d be facing many more deaths, along with an uncomfortable and damaging inquiry by more than just the local police,’ said Max vehemently, nodding at the older man.
Gus didn’t look up, even though Max had lifted the blame from his shoulders and spoken favourably about the way he’d handled the situation; he still felt responsible. After all, two men had died that night. Gus sighed heavily and shook his head. Edmund began fidgeting in front of him.
‘Now, Edmund,’ Max continued, turning to him. ‘I know you disobeyed orders, which I’m personally annoyed to hear about, but after discussing this with Gus in more detail I understand your reasons… and, well, on reflection, Gus has informed me he’s willing to forgo any criticism for now, owing to the fact that your training is still ongoing and you haven’t yet been instructed in the use of firearms.’
Edmund spun round in surprise, but the senior ranger remained grim-faced, his eyes focusing on Max.
‘Which is something I wish to rectify,’ continued Max. ‘The wolves have gone to who knows where…’ He paused, waiting for Edmund to confirm or deny the whereabouts of the pack. It didn’t come, and instead Edmund lowered his eyes and shuffled uncomfortably in his chair.
‘It sounds as though this wolf hunt remains the priority of these men,’ resumed Max. ‘At least according to Bob Sykes, as you all heard last night. So, in the light of this mounting aggression and uncertainty, I’m going to bring forward your firearms training.’ He nodded emphatically. ‘We all need to be up to speed. The situation is far from resolved. So, Edmund, you will be spending the day with Gus, learning all about guns, how to shoot and take care of your weapon,’ he said, giving Edmund a rueful smile.
The meeting came to an end and Max sat back in his chair as everyone rose to leave. His gaze lingered on Edmund, whose unusually quiet outward manner displayed an uncharacteristic nonchalance concerning the impending demise of the wolves. He rubbed his chin, wondering why.
The mood was subdued throughout the wildlife centre as everyone returned to their duties. Edmund was pleased to begin the experience of handling and understanding how a rifle worked, plus, as Gus drilled into him repeatedly, the importance of cleaning and maintaining it so that it was always in pristine condition. It was during the afternoon that they finally ventured into the forest where target practice could begin safely. Gus had brought a wooden target board with them and nailed it firmly onto an old gnarled tree stump.
Edmund discovered that the prospect of firing a rifle didn’t disturb him nearly as much as it might have done a few weeks ago.
‘Right, fire when you’re ready,’ announced Gus, standing back.
Edmund took a deep breath, trying to recall the correct sequence of doing things. Firstly, he nestled the rifle comfortably into his right shoulder, while his left hand supported the weight. Then, keeping an eye trained down the long barrel, he focused on the target board, remembering to keep his right index finger poised gently against the trigger.
He lined up the bullseye, trying to hold the wavering barrel steady, then squeezed the trigger. Instantly, there was a deafening boom and Edmund released a gasp of shocked surprise, unprepared for the recoil, as the wooden hilt struck him hard in the shoulder. The force threw him off balance and he landed on the grass in an undignified heap.
‘Stand with your legs apart. Balance your weight. Lean into it, like this,’ reiterated Gus in a stern voice, although his face gave away his amusement while he adopted the stance Edmund was to emulate.
The hours passed, and to Edmund’s deep satisfaction he found that with practice he was improving, managing to fire his weapon and remain standing, even hitting the target on a few occasions. It was a serious business and he rallied to it, knuckling down to every command and taking note of any criticism Gus deemed fit to throw at him.
Days drifted by and Gus was stricter than ever, teaching him new things and expecting him to remember every tiny detail. It was on such a day that Edmund noticed a change in his senior ranger; a certain deference, respect and tolerance glinted in Gus’s steely eyes whenever they rested on him.
Max surveyed Edmund, serious and unusually quiet, continuing his training with Gus. It had been infuriating waiting for the young man to speak about the wolves. The fact he hadn’t mentioned them at all was just out of character, for normally it was hard to stop him talking about them. It puzzled him, wondering what had happened.
The truth was, Edmund was being deliberately evasive for a reason. With the police so interested in the wolves’ whereabouts, combined with their obvious sympathy towards those men hunting them, it wasn’t hard to figure out the danger he would place the pack in if he did speak out.
He bit his lip, sensing Max’s mounting frustration. Perhaps he should tell his chief ranger the little he knew. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him; in fact, he trusted him implicitly. No, that wasn’t what was really bugging him.
He needed longer to process what had occurred that night. Was all of it real, or was his mind playing tricks? In fact, as the days slipped past Edmund began to believe that he’d imagined the whole night – the mist, and GoldenEars talking to him; it was absurd to believe such a thing could really happen.
A soft light penetrated the thin curtains, signalling dawn had passed. Edmu
nd forced himself awake, feeling as though he hadn’t slept at all. His bleary eyes rested on the little clock beside him. The illuminated face read 6:30, and he groaned inwardly, wondering what Gus had in store for him today. Wearily, he pushed the covers back, noticing Josh still fast asleep in the bed opposite him.
Quietly he ambled over to the old chest of drawers that stood in the corner of their shared bedroom. The top three drawers were reserved for his belongings, whereas Josh had the use of the three lower drawers for his things. Deciding he needed a clean shirt, Edmund pulled open the top drawer and began sifting through the clothes strewn inside.
His hands searched through the unruly mess, hoping to feel the smooth pressed material which would indicate a clean shirt. It was then that his hands touched a screwed-up piece of cloth. He grabbed hold and pulled it out.
It was one of his cream work shirts. He stared at it, noticing the dry smudges down the front as he unravelled it. Disgusted, he gazed at the marks, amazed he’d stuffed it back inside the drawer in this filthy state. Then he recalled – this was the shirt he’d worn the day he entered the mountain with Josh. He studied the dried muddy smears again. Then a gleam of light caught his attention, quickening his heart.
Clutching the shirt, he hurried to the window, pushed back the curtains and scrutinised the shirt again.
No, he wasn’t mistaken, there was that glint of gold again, catching the early rays of sunlight. Peering closely, he found a single strand of hair. Suddenly his heart swelled, realising what it meant. He’d actually met GoldenEars… and his wolf had definitely spoken to him!
It had been difficult keeping his mouth shut all this time; bottling it up inside was driving him crazy. One of his chief concerns was that he didn’t want to be labelled a lunatic, babbling about incredible things he couldn’t prove. But the premise had changed; now he had proof.
However, what could he do with this new-found information? He couldn’t go running off again, to who knows where, because he had no idea where GoldenEars was taking the pack of wolves. And even if he could find them, bringing them back now, with all this unrest, wasn’t an option; it was far from safe for the pack.
Besides, wherever GoldenEars had taken them, no one, it seems, could find them. Perhaps there’s a hidden trail deep in the mountains only the wolves know about. A place out of sight of unfriendly eyes. A secret hideout, he thought to himself, speculating how it might look, while his imagination ran riot conjuring up the treacherous path he would have to negotiate to find them.
He returned to his bed still clutching the fine hair between his fingers and sat down, looking for a safe place to put it. Opening his bedside cabinet, he extracted an empty toffee tin, where he kept small items of importance, and carefully placed the hair inside a discarded toffee wrapper and closed the lid. He wouldn’t disclose his find just yet.
It was late afternoon and the summer sunshine was gradually being smothered by the scudding clouds, changing the sky to a morose grey. A low rumbling rolled across the distant mountains, fading into silence. The air felt heavy with moisture, the humidity uncomfortably high. Gus knew that at this time of year the weather could be unpredictable, and when it rained it was often heavy and prolonged.
‘Better get back quick, Edmund. A storm is coming,’ said Gus, and without even a glance in Edmund’s direction he set off briskly.
An hour later, the pair arrived at the wildlife centre. The sky had darkened quickly, blanketed with heavy grey cloud, giving the impression that evening had arrived prematurely. The pair stepped into the welcoming glow of the building, pausing to stamp their dusty boots on the mat placed just inside the doorway.
‘Brrr, it’s surprisingly cold out there,’ announced Gus, rubbing his hands together.
Claire hurried over to them.
‘I’m preparing spaghetti Bolognese with a tomato and basil sauce. Come when you’re ready,’ she said kindly, and returned to her café counter.
All the visitors had left at 6pm, when the centre closed for the day, so they had the place to themselves. Claire busied herself, gathering pasta bowls and slicing a crusty white loaf in preparation for everyone to share.
Edmund hurried to his room and changed, washed his face and hands, combed his hair and descended the stairs in a matter of ten minutes. He felt pleased with himself, knowing his work today had been satisfactory. Even Gus looked at him with a little more tolerance than usual.
He entered the café area, where a large table had been placed in the middle of the room. An orange cloth covered the table, and place settings for eight people were set at intervals, with the accompanying pasta bowls and cutlery placed beside them. He dithered, slightly surprised by the occasion, and wondered if he should sit down, when all four rangers, plus Clive and Mavis, entered the room.
‘Shall we all take a seat?’ suggested Max, pulling out a chair for himself.
The sudden chatter of voices erupted around the table as everyone sat down. Slightly perplexed, Edmund remained quiet, wondering if it was someone’s birthday.
A minute later Claire placed the brimming bowl of pasta in the centre of the table, resting a pair of serving tongs on the cloth beside it.
‘There you are. I’ll just fetch the bread and salad bowl. Please help yourselves!’ she encouraged, hurrying back to the counter to collect the other two plates of food.
The pasta was drenched in the hot sauce and smelled irresistible. Edmund hadn’t eaten much all day and was famished, though he refrained from the urge to help himself, instead sitting politely awaiting his bowl of spaghetti.
The tongs were passed round the table, each person taking their time filling their bowl. Finally the tongs were in his hands, but he didn’t want to appear greedy and hesitated, staring mutely at the implements in front of him.
Claire had taken the chair beside him and came to his rescue.
‘Let me help you,’ she offered, serving Edmund a large helping.
‘Right, now we are all assembled, I hope you will indulge me a short speech,’ said Max, looking round the table.
‘Firstly, I want to say how pleased I am that Keith has made a full recovery from the gunshot wound.’ Max paused. ‘Good man.’ Keith shrugged dismissively.
‘Secondly,’ continued Max, ‘I have some good news regarding the inquiry into the deaths of those two men. It seems someone has come clean; meaning the blame has shifted from you.’
Max noticed the relief and delight circulate round the table. His eyes rested on Gus, expecting to see the same relief in his face, but the ranger remained solemn.
‘Senseless, stupid deaths,’ the older man grumbled, with a shake of his head.
Max nodded, understanding the whole business had affected Gus deeply.
‘Yes, I agree, Gus, but you were not to blame for what those men chose to do… Okay! It was confirmed this afternoon that the police inquiry is officially closed. The verdict… accidental death. So, on behalf of everyone here, I want to congratulate you all for averting a potential catastrophe. But, unfortunately, this incident has forced public opinion even lower as regards the validity of the wolf, and they are blaming them for the deaths of those two men. How they can believe that the wolves were responsible is beyond me. But let’s not forget, the three men who were killed in the forest earlier are still fresh in everyone’s minds.’
Edmund interrupted hotly, ‘That was in self-defence! The wolves were defending themselves and their young! Those men killed six wolves, including smashing in the skull of a tiny pup!’ he said indignantly, his breath catching in his throat.
‘Yes, Edmund, I know… I do know,’ said Max softly, watching him. He inclined his head in understanding and empathy.
The mood changed from the happy light-heartedness of a celebratory meal as each person allowed their mind to dwell on past events they were powerless to change.
‘The newspapers are having a
field day with this,’ said Max, breaking the silence. ‘Their stories seem to be influencing the general population, fuelling an already volatile situation. Their attention is turning to us too, saying politely that we’re misguided and complacent as far as the wolves are concerned. Reading between the lines, they believe we are deliberately hiding them from the authorities.’
There was a sudden rush of voices as everyone spoke at once.
Max held up a hand. ‘Okay, stop, stop! I know how you feel. It’s a ridiculous accusation and highly disturbing. The annoying thing is, I was actually making headway with the government and the Minister of Natural Resources, endeavouring to put the wolf on the endangered species’ list. I’m trying to change the laws too, and stop the hunting of wolves altogether. But as it stands, I fear… there’s no chance,’ he said, his voice heavy with sadness.
The silence was absolute, and a numbness hung over the table. Every pair of eyes was downcast, thinking about the implications of his words.
Edmund was the only person who knew something positive, and a flicker of hope warmed his heart as he remembered seeing his friend leading all the wolves to safety. He mulled over Max’s words, taking in the serious allegations linking themselves and the uncertain lives of the wolves. A steely resolve hardened his determination. He surprised himself, because his mood remained positive, and a surge of optimism bloomed inside him.
Claire broke the silence by lifting her glass and addressing the chief ranger.
‘Max, shall we welcome our newest member?’
Max looked up, brightening when he saw the warmth and understanding in her eyes, encouraging him to speak.
‘Thank you, Claire. Of course,’ he answered, turning to Edmund. ‘A warm welcome to our new ranger,’ he said, smiling at the young man’s bemused face. Max lifted his glass of wine in a salute. Everyone followed suit, holding their glasses aloft.
‘To Edmund,’ they chorused, each taking a sip of their wine.
