Shark & The Wolf: Predators and Prey

by Daniel D. Shields

  Dog Z Boy, a lean golden retriever and Shark’s best friend, placed a half-full bottle of beer on the side railing. Shark looked at him; the golden fur on his long, skinny arms hung below the short sleeves of the loudest tropical shirt Shark had ever seen. The two loved to joke with each other and Shark could not pass up the opportunity. “Dog Z Boy!” Shark yelled. “Where’d you get that shirt—you steal it off a blind—drunk tourist?”

  Dog Z Boy looked up at Shark as he approached the table. “No, I’m pretty sure I stole this one out of your closet.”

  Shark and the crowd all laughed. Shark looked over at the hyena who maintained a cold, blank expression. That’s one cold-hearted son of a bitch, he thought.

  Shark walked over to Dog Z Boy and raised his right palm into the air. “You got to love it, Dog Z Boy. As good as you can take it, you always seem to be able to give it just a little bit better.” Shark and Dog Z Boy high-fived one another. “Now make yourself useful, and rack ’em.”

  Shark loved Dog Z Boy like a brother. No matter what, he thought, Dog Z Boy always seems happy to see me.

  Dog Z Boy had a huge smile on his face as he reached under the table and collected the balls. He put the balls in the rack and quickly arranged them into proper eight-ball formation. He lifted the rack slowly and stepped aside.

  The hyena stepped forward as he chalked the tip of his cue. “I was thinking that maybe, just for this one game, we might consider raising the stakes.”

  Shark shot an ominous look directly at his opponent. The type of stare that let it be known that he was one of the top predators in the world and didn’t like being messed with. A player raising stakes after losing seven consecutive games meant only one thing to Shark—the hyena was a con man, a hustler.

  Shark looked up and again noticed the large wolf standing cross-armed by the door. He was muscular and well toned. His fur, a mix of tan and brown, lay perfectly flush on his chiseled face, a face that lacked any kind of expression. He had a snout much smaller than the hyena’s, the tip of which had a dark brown nose. His eyes were a deep, steely blue. Large whiskers bowed out at each side just below his nose, creating a giant, very cool-looking mustache. He looks slick, Shark thought. This guy is handsome and a lady killer. Shark knew the wolf was obviously the hyena’s bodyguard and would be a worthy adversary if a brawl broke out.

  Shark was not a big fan of hyenas, especially ones wearing fancy suits and fedora hats. But he was also not the type to back down from a challenge. Hustler or no hustler, he would have to play him. “What did you have in mind?”

  The hyena pulled out a postcard from his jacket pocket and held it up for Shark and the crowd to see. “Well, seeing that you have taken almost all of my money, I thought I might put this up against, say, one thousand dollars cash.”

  Shark gave the hyena another cold glance. He’d been taken a few times in the past by hustlers and had also hustled a few times himself. But a postcard against one thousand in cash didn’t make much sense. “What gives?”

  “Ah, well, you see it’s not just the fact that this is a postcard, but rather who the card is from.” The hyena moved forward to give Shark a closer look.

  The front of the card showed a thatched-roof, open-air tropical bar. The inscription read: Greetings From Tiki Wiki Billiards. Pool-Playing Paradise.

  The hyena flipped over the card, making certain to cover the note portion with his hand. As Shark looked over the back of the card his eyes grew wide. He had not heard anything from her in over a month. And now, here in front of him, on a postcard held by a total stranger appeared her name, Vixen, and a return address at a place called Tiki Wiki Billiards, Viti Levu Island, Fiji.

  Shark grabbed at the card. “Let me see the note.”

  The hyena quickly pulled the card back and placed it inside his jacket pocket. “For that to happen, my great white friend, you’ll have to beat me one more time at this game they call pool.”

  Shark felt his cold-blooded temperature start to rise. Who was this guy? And how did he know Vixen? Where did he get that card? Shark knew he had only two choices: end the hyena’s life with one bite and take the card, or see the situation through and play. He again looked over at the large wolf. He thought for a second, realizing the first option would not be as easy as he thought. For all he knew, the wolf could be packing a piece. Playing it cool would be the best choice for now. Shark locked eyes with the hyena. “It’s your break.”

  The hyena moved to the end of the table. He slowly brought back the cue and released it forward with the precision and speed of a professional. The cue ball screamed toward the awaiting triangle and made the balls explode and spread out across the table. One by one, he sank solid after solid, until the only ball left for him to sink was the eight.

  Shark and the crowd looked on in amazement. This was not the same player he had beaten during the last seven games. This guy was good, real good. He was indeed, as Shark suspected, a pool pro and a hustler. Shark felt angry with himself. How could I have let myself be taken by the likes of this fool? he thought.

  ‘The hyena moved around the table. Each step was slow and methodical. His eyes fixed on the table, analyzing the angle of the upcoming shot.

  Shark sensed the hyena’s love of this part of the game, the part where victory felt almost certain, the part that kicked into gear a player’s primitive instincts, the part that probably brought back memories of stalking and killing prey.

  The eight-ball was on the rail about three inches from the far right corner. The cue ball was directly down the line. With no other balls obstructing his view, it would be an easy shot to make. Shark, the crowd, and the hyena all knew that victory was within his reach.

  Shark moved around the table and grabbed the hyena by the shoulder. “Hold on, where did you say you were from?”

  The wolf took a few quick steps forward. The hyena waved him off as he pulled away from Shark and moved toward the end of the table. “I didn’t say.”

  He lined up his shot and released the cue. The tip contacted the cue ball and sent it on a slow journey toward its target. All eyes grew wide as they watched the ball roll. It seemed as if the ball and time itself were moving in super-slow motion. The crowd watched in amazement as the cue ball missed the eight-ball completely. The ball hit the far rail, banked across the table, and scratched in the far corner pocket, losing the hyena the game.

  The crowd stood in stunned silence. Shark, like the rest of the crowd, knew the hyena had lost the game on purpose. But why?

  The hyena took the postcard out of his jacket pocket and threw it down on the table. “Looks like I lost again. Consider the card a little gift.” He grabbed his cue case from the side table and headed toward the exit as the wolf held the door open. The hyena had his back to the shocked crowd as he exited. “Give my regards to Vixen. Let her know that Old Jack says hello. That is, if you can find her.” In an instant the hyena and the wolf were gone.

  Shark raced to retrieve the card. He turned it over and began to read. The card was dated one week earlier and was addressed to Shark, care of Gill’s Bar and Grill.

  He looked for a postmark but couldn’t find one. The card had been delivered by hand. And there, on the back of the card, was a message. Shark read it to himself.

  Shark, I’ve found it. My dad can fill you in. I need your HELP!

  Come quick.

  Love, Vixen

  Vixen’s dad, Gill, the proprietor of the bar and grill that carried his name, was an aging, bottle-nosed dolphin. He was born in Cabo San Lucas on the tip of the Baja Peninsula, just west of the Sea of Cortez, a body of land and water his ancestors called home for millions of years. He assumed the role of Vixen’s dad after a woman he dated unexpectedly fell ill. It was her dying wish that Gill take care of her baby girl, a wish Gill granted with an unwavering love for both the woman and her child. Gill cared for Vixen and loved her as if she was his very own. With his new responsibilities at hand, Gill gave up his wild nights and decided to settle d
own someplace quiet. That was what brought him and Vixen to the tranquil Florida Keys.

  Shark moved to the end of the bar where Gill was drying glasses. “I’m not sure what your daughter has gotten herself into this time,” he said as he handed the card to Gill. “What do you make of this?”

  Gill looked at the card carefully, then placed it down on the bar. He looked up at Shark. “The night Vixen left, she played pool against a tourist couple. She beat them game after game until they were almost out of money. During the last game they played, all the couple had left to wager was an old map they said they bought while on vacation in Fiji. They said it was supposedly a treasure map that showed the location of a golden saber that was hidden on the island by the famous explorer, Captain James Cook. They said it was priceless, and that whoever found it would be blessed with riches beyond belief.”

  Shark shook his head and took a deep breath. “She’s off on a treasure hunt. That’s a new one, even for her.” He picked the card up from the bar and looked it over again.

  Gill ran a wet towel over the bar, and Shark noticed a sadness creeping into his eyes. “Vixen won the map and thought that if she found the treasure, it might help solve our problems here.”

  Shark looked at Gill, perplexed. “What problems?”

  Gill put down the rag and leaned over the bar. He waved Shark in close and spoke in a whisper so that no other customers would be able to hear. “The property values have increased so much in these parts that the landlord wants to tear the building down and build new rental condos for the tourists. I don’t have enough money to buy the building and the land. I have about six months before the bulldozers level the place.”

  Gill stood upright, raised his left eyebrow, and looked sincerely at Shark to let him know the seriousness of the situation. He then went back to wiping down the bar, a task, Shark knew, he found comfort in.

  Shark reached across the bar and stopped Gill from cleaning. “There is no way we will ever let that happen. We’ll find a way. Who knows? Maybe Vixen is actually on to something.”

  Gill squeezed the water out of the rag and placed it down behind the bar as he adjusted the sleeves of his starched white shirt. “I like your positive attitude, Shark. I appreciate your support and I’m glad Vixen brought you around. I don’t know what I would do without this place. I’ve got my whole life into her.”

  Shark took another deep breath as the seriousness of the situation settled in. “I don’t know what any of us would do without the place. It’s like our home, and you know everyone here is as close as family.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, Shark, I really am. I spent a lot of years and a lot of sweat making this place as welcoming as possible. Places like Gill’s don’t come around too often. The problem is that success can be a double-edged sword. On one hand, you’re excited when the business takes off, but on the other hand, once it becomes successful there are always people trying to take what you built. The only advice I can give is that if you ever open your own place, be sure to buy the land. If you control the land, you control the business.”

  Shark always paid close attention to the old dolphin’s wisdom. “The only place I ever plan to own is this one, and that’s many, many years from now, after you retire.”

  Gill smiled, reached across the bar and shook Shark’s hand. “Well, it couldn’t fall into better hands than yours.”

  Shark turned from the bar and again looked down at the card. He focused on the return address. Of all places she could have gone it had to be Fiji, he thought. An island surrounded by thousands of miles of ocean. There was a reason Shark had chosen the Army over the Navy when he joined the military. There was a reason he lived on land and not on a boat. There was a reason he preferred quick showers to baths. He was a fish that hated deep water.

  Shark took a good long look around the interior space at Gill’s. He could not imagine the place or his friends not being there. He would have to do something to stop the demolition. He knew it would be hard. He also knew that both Vixen and Gill needed his help. He would have to get control of his fears. “Dog Z Boy!” Shark yelled. “Start packing. We’re going to Fiji.”

  CHAPTER 2

  The Journey Begins

  Shark woke, pulled back the curtain from the window next to his bed and looked outside. For midsummer in the Florida Keys, the morning felt pleasantly cool to him. The thunderstorms of the previous night had left a fresh scent and a clean, wet shine on the acres of bright green tropical foliage that covered the islands. He always admired the view from his window; it led his eyes from thick vegetation down to the white sand beach and small lapping waves of the Gulf of Mexico.

  Shark enjoyed where he lived, just ten miles south of Gill’s, on a little stretch of beach called Paradise Cay. The house was actually a hut with a thatched roof that completed the allure of tropical living. Outside, the sandy driveway provided parking spaces for his custom chopper and open-air jeep. Just outside the front door, a small covered porch held just enough space for two old wooden rockers. The inside was small, but roomy enough for Shark and the few worldly possessions he could claim as his own. He took pride in organization and kept the place immaculately clean.

  Shark moved slowly into the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. He noticed the sleepy look that lingered in his deep blue eyes. He ran his hands under cold water and patted the grey and white skin of his strong, muscular face. He smiled so he could check his teeth; glaring super-white and super-sharp triangles appeared before him. Still have the smile that drives the ladies crazy, he thought. He continued smiling as he moved his head side to side, looking at himself. His ancestors, he thought, when in the ocean, were like streamlined torpedoes. He often found it interesting to think of how his species had evolved, fins being replaced with arms and legs, and with a neck that supported a head, unmistakably shark, that was able to balance and turn just like that of humans. He ran his hands across his cheeks and jaw. “You’re also holding up pretty well with the age there, old boy,” he whispered.

  Shark did okay with the ladies. Every girlfriend he ever had complimented his smile, and more than a few called him a handsome devil. Shark lived up to the devil image in his younger years, but for the last few felt totally content to be in a relationship, although rocky at times, with Vixen, the only woman he had ever loved.

  The thought of her made Shark continue his smile as he grabbed a cup of coffee and moved outside and sat on one of the old rockers. He used to love to share this time of day with Vixen and remembered how they would sit, rock, and talk for hours. They would share their dreams for the future and laugh at stories from the past. He loved her, that was one thing that was for sure, and he could not imagine life without her.

  Shark stood and looked across the open waters of the Gulf of Mexico. He knew that about seven thousand miles to the southwest she was waiting for him, waiting for his help. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of the cool, moist, tropical air. Another smile formed on his face as he thought about the woman he loved.

  It was Christmas Eve and the palm trees along Highway 1 just north of Key West were all decorated with holiday lights. Shark felt a twinge of nervousness and excitement as he approached the turnoff for Gill’s Bar and Grill. It had been four months since he had first met Vixen, and three months since he had last seen her. Then came the invitation to spend the holidays with her in the Keys. It would be the first time he would meet her father, Gill.

  As he turned up the sandy driveway toward Gill’s, his face took on a multicolored glow from the holiday lights that lit the roof of the old, plantation-style house, now converted into a restaurant and bar. He parked his car and with a light bounce to his step made his way up onto the large, wraparound porch. He paused and looked through one of the front windows. He could see her sitting at the bar, talking to a big dolphin bartender who was placing dried glasses in the overhead racks that hung from the ceiling. She appeared even more beautiful than he remembered. He watched as she laughe
d and leaned over and gave the dolphin a big hug and kiss on the cheek. Shark knew the dolphin must be her dad, Gill.

  He looked at her, amazed by her beauty. Her species was fox, which gave her a petite, sexy frame. Shark felt mesmerized by her face, the most beautiful, symmetrical face he had ever seen, accented by high cheekbones, a tiny, pointed nose and a small, sexy black birthmark just above her right upper lip. When she smiled, her bright white, perfect teeth gleamed as they appeared from behind her full red lips. She had an extremely tiny star tattoo on her temple, just next to her left eye. She had told him that the tattoo was in memory of her mother, that one of the last things she remembered about her mother before she died was how she used to take her out on the front lawn on warm summer nights and point out the millions of stars in the sky. She said her mother told her that the universe was infinite, just like one’s dreams, and that she should never let her dreams die. Evolution in her species, as in humans, had removed the hair needed to warm the body and in its place left smooth, light-brown, tanned skin, a perfect complement to her mysterious green eyes. If not for the small, pointy tips of her ears, he thought, she could almost pass as human. Her long straight hair was naturally auburn, but the wild streak in her dyed it jet black. Shark had seen her with it tied back in a ponytail and also with it done up and pulled down, model-like, in front of her face. Tonight, she had had her hair done to the nines and could have walked on any modeling catwalk in the world. She will be the star of the show, he thought.

  Vixen turned and looked directly at him through the window. She jumped off her seat and ran toward him. In an instant, the squeaky screen door swung open and she jumped into his massive grey arms.

  “I’m so happy you came.” She hugged him tight.

  “There was no way I could pass up an invitation from you,” he whispered.

  They shared a long gaze and a long, slow kiss. Vixen leaned back and grabbed Shark by the hand.