by Beth Lewis
I took it back to camp and skewered it over the fire then cleaned myself up in the lake. Now, it’s just good manners and sense to clean up your kill site so’s it don’t bring bears and such right to your front door. Rules say you got to dig a hole and put them remains back where they came from. Bury ’em deep and say your thanks.
I waited too long afore going back.
Pigeon cooks perfect pink in just a few minutes and when I smelled that meat, all them sugars in there browning, turning sticky-sweet, that fine alderwood smoking it up to a crisp char, I didn’t want to leave it for a second. Two bites a’ breast and gone. Better’n rabbit any day. I weren’t going to let that crown burn or dry out, no sir. But I sure should a’ cleaned up them guts and wings quicker.
As I got close to the site, I heard crunching. Sharp teeth on weak bone. I froze. Felt cold for the first time since getting to that lake. I stuck close to a fat trunk and peered ’round the bark. White downy feathers puffed and scattered about the grass, like they was trying to get flying again though their owner was in pieces. It was all crunch, crunch, puff, puff.
It weren’t a bear, that’s for sure, didn’t make enough noise and wouldn’t be bothering itself with something so scrawny as pigeon guts.
Felt the wind on my cheek and my stomach dropped out my shoes. That wind picked up my scent and took it right to the beast.
Crunching stopped. Feathers settled.
My heartbeat bounced up inside my ears, thundering worse than any storm. I went to pull my knife out my belt and my heart damn near exploded. I’d left my knife at camp. I could see the blade glinting in the sun farther ’round the lake, like it were laughing at me, saying, Elka, you’re a fool’n a half.
Brush leaves rustled and a few feathers landed close to my tree, flown by breath ’stead a’ wind.
I could run, I thought, I could run and get my knife. Might be quicker’n whatever was eating my tailings. I could jump out and spook the beast, shock it to scarpering. Or piss it off something rotten. I moved, quietlike, and looked farther ’round the tree.
Yellow eyes staring at me.
Big goddamn timber wolf, not fifteen strides away.
I kept my eyes on it. Once you look away from a wolf, next and last thing you know will be their jaws ’round your neck. All other noise ran away scared from that forest. No birds, no scratching critters, not even the wind rustling branches. All I heard was that wolf breathing in time with me. Yellow eyes held mine. It weren’t attacking, weren’t raging at me, just stood there, head low, feathers all ’round his mouth. S’pose he was just trying to have some dinner and I interrupted him.
“OK, fella,” I said, and moved out from ’hind that tree so’s he could see all my intentions.
He bared his teeth. He didn’t seem all that old, hadn’t grown into his ears yet. Maybe three-four months, but he was a big’un and skinny, what meant hungry. Didn’t look like he’d had a good meal in all his life. Had snow all over his fur and I figured winter was coming down hard other side them trees. No wonder he wandered to my lake, temperature had barely dropped in all the weeks I been there. I backed up a step, arms up in a sign a’ calm. He growled, showed off all his pearly whites, and my heart damn near backflipped it wanted to get away so bad. A hungry wolf is a whole new type a’ danger.
Snow on his head shook off and ’neath it I saw a black smudge a’ fur right down ’tween his eyes. One of them gods, whoever the wolves hold to, had taken his thumb and drawn soot down this one.
“Damn. You’re that pup what led me to the Mussa…” I said, though I didn’t much believe it. Never seen another wolf with markings like that afore. Never since. I wondered brief if it was for me, so I’d know this guy on second sight and wouldn’t take my knife to him. That floppy little fuzzer by the river was no more’n a handful of weeks old and this guy was getting on months. S’pose I’d been by the lake longer’n I thought.
He didn’t seem to have no rage in him. He weren’t coiled up ready to strike or nothing, he was just telling me all polite-like to leave him to his pigeon.
“All right, Wolf, you go have yourself a feast,” I said, and I backed away one big step at a time. When I was out a’ sight a’ him, I heard that crunching again and knew, somewhere down deep in me, that I weren’t in no danger from him. As a pup he had saved my skin and I was more’n happy to return the favor.
Time went strange by that lake. Winter let loose on the world, I saw the storms and blizzards and I hunkered down best I could in my shelter but nothing hit too hard. The snow quick melted when it hit the grass and the ice at the edges of the lake barely stayed past the morning. Wondered brief with a smirk if bleeding out that reverend had given us all a mild winter.
Wolf stuck around, skirting my camp, keeping his distance for the most part. I weren’t afraid of him, same as he didn’t see much to fear in me. I’d catch a squirrel or rabbit and I’d leave the guts and heads in a pile. Couple minutes later I’d hear slurping and crunching. Funny kind of comfort, that. I’d been on my own so long and I didn’t much realize how sad it made me. Afore Wolf turned up, I figured I hadn’t spoken out loud for nigh on three weeks. Wondered if Wolf hadn’t turned up, I’d a’ forgotten how to speak altogether. Now I was talking loud, shouting dinner’s ready, come and get it.
Carried on like this for a while till one day I stuck around at his eating spot. Everything felt slow by that lake, like I had all the time in the world. I sat quietlike a good ten foot from his table and waited, nice pile of rabbit guts for him. Don’t know what made me do it, think it might a’ been a cry out for something closer. Wolves are pack animals, see, they live best with company and us humans do too. I spent my life so far with a companion, no matter if he was a bastard, and to tell the truth, I felt something missing deep in my gut.
Wolf came up as normal but when he spotted me so close he growled low and rumbling. I figured that was more a Hey, what you want? Rather than an I’m gonna have your head. This was new territory for us both and I weren’t in the mood to get bit. When he figured I weren’t after his dinner and I weren’t about to skin him for bedding, he started crunching that rabbit head. He didn’t take his yellow eyes off me, his big tongue lapped up all them guts and brain like it was separate from the rest of him. Weren’t no growl in them eyes. Weren’t no ferocity. Think he was curious about me. Maybe saw me less as one a’ them human hunters wanting his fur and more as a missing member of his pack.
Soon as he was done eating he scarpered back into the forest and I didn’t see him again that night. Next day I did the same, just sat an inch or two closer. And the next, and the next, till he didn’t growl no more when he saw me and didn’t pay me no mind when he was crunching through skulls. Once he had comfort with me, I chucked a rabbit leg to him, made sure it landed halfway ’tween us.
Wolf didn’t move. Stared from me to the meat. Then tiny, shaking steps forward. He was no more’n two foot away from me. I could smell his fur, kind a’ musty, sour scent, something familiar about it. He sniffed at the rabbit, fresh killed and still warm, then looked up at me. Thought for a second he weren’t going to take it.
Finally, he picked it up in his teeth and lay himself flat on the grass to eat. My heart and my joy swelled up, filled up my chest like a flower ’bout to bloom. But them wolf teeth and claws weren’t no pretty petals, they kept me grounded they did, one false or quick move and they could rip right through me. Didn’t think Wolf would do that, ’course, but he was still a wild’un and you can’t be too careful with them. Joy makes wits dull and slow and I weren’t in the business of letting it get the best a’ me.
Wolf finished the leg and sniffed the air up and down looking for more. I had the other leg in my hands and I set it down ’bout halfway ’tween us. He was lying like that Sphinx rock I’d seen in the old picture books. Front legs out straight, ready to lever himself up without no warning. He gave me a little snarl, but I paid him no mind, just sat still and quiet and waited.
Wolf shuffled f
orward. Bit more. Bit more. Then snapped up that rabbit.
My life, he was close to me. I could a’ reached out and touched him, could see specks of dirt and leaf stuck in his coat, could smell his breath. Don’t know what idiot god possessed me but next thing I knew I was reaching out my hand.
Wolf snarled proper then and backed up an inch.
My heart went drumming through every bit a’ me. Every muscle tingled like I’d sat funny on it and it was coming back to life. I tried just thinking of my breathing, in out over and over but damn me, I didn’t put my hand down.
Thinking back on it now, I could a’ lost that hand in a second. Could a’ lost my life a second after. It was stupid. One of the worse stupids I done. But hell, it was worth it.
Wolf stopped growling and got curious. He stretched out his neck, all thick gray fur, and sniffed my hand. I was trembling. My head was yelling at me to put my arm down.
It’s a goddamn wolf, my head shouted at me, but I told it to shut up, told it I knew what I was doing and butt out.
Wolf sniffed at me again, closer, then closer, then he nuzzled his nose right into my palm. I tell you, I thought I might shout and holler and dance a jig. Felt tears in my eyes as this wild thing, this old-world creature, decided I was good enough to be friends. Wolf rubbed his face on my hands and I started scratching him ’neath the chin.
My face hurt I was smiling so wide.
He made a few deep rumbling sounds that said he was relaxed and liked what I was doing so to hell with it, I kept on scratching.
Then something spooked him. Don’t know what. Maybe a rabbit dashing through the brush or he caught sight of one of them garter snakes or something, or maybe he’d just had enough a’ my attention. He bolted up, stood tall and kinglike, towering above me. Felt like I’d lost a piece of me in that moment, like that wolf had stolen something and I had to stick with him always to make sure I’d get it back.
Then he turned ’round and ran into the trees, bushy gray tail swinging behind him.
I didn’t see Wolf for days, don’t even know how many, I had an ache in my chest from it. The pile of guts was getting higher and insects were buzzing about it, turning it rotten. I thought I’d lost him and I ain’t too proud to say I cried for him. He’d become my friend by this strange lake where time slowed and seasons stayed firm. He was the only thing that changed and when he didn’t come crunching on them squirrel skulls, day after day after day, I felt chills of fear inside me I hadn’t felt in months.
In them weeks without Wolf, I felt strange. Like I was walking about in a dream. Soon I stopped hearing them words from Matthews’s basement, Think on why I ain’t killin’ you. Then I stopped worrying over Lyon and her six-shooter on my tail. Soon after that, I stopped thinking on my parents, stopped checking my traps, stopped stoking my fire, I just lay in my shelter, waiting. Guess a kind a’ sadness had come about me. Something dark swaddled me up and held me tight like a babe to her momma’s teat and I let it and I wanted it. My body was heavy and my head full a’ buzzing flies. I didn’t sleep much no more.
The lake and forest were warmer’n ever, I didn’t need no coat and I was living just in my linens. The sky kept on being white and blue. Nothing was changing and something wrong was taking root inside me.
When I weren’t lying down, staring, I was sat out by the lake watching the water. Started to see things in that water. Colors I ain’t never seen afore swirled about, turning into shapes of bears and eagles, into human faces and kids running around, playing. Thought I was going loon. Don’t know if it was Wolf not being there no more that sent my head off in a spin or it was just being by that lake with sorrow in my heart ’stead a’ joy. I always said that lake had something of a magic about it, something that dulls the senses and turns a wily whip of a girl into a thick-headed dolt.
Felt like I was dosed with nightshade or valerian all the time. I knew that feeling. Trapper had used them herbs to calm a frantic deer once. He said you eat meat full a’ terror you might as well be eating shit off the ground. Got to keep them quiet and friendly. I told him once, though, that I saw a doe eating nightshade berries like they was treats. They didn’t work on deer.
“They don’t work on them deer, they work on some a’ the other types,” he said, and that seemed like a fine answer to me.
I started seeing faces in the trees and could a’ sworn up and down I heard footsteps, human boots on twigs, stomping through the night. I checked that clearing near the road but never saw no one. I sat up all night, twitching and shaking, knife in my hands.
“Come at me, demons,” I whispered over and over. I figured they would stop messing about out in the woods and attack me tooth and claw. I’d fight them right till they sucked the soul out my body.
Shadow passed by the end of my shelter. Smell of rot and iron followed it. Smell of hell and devils. I weren’t waiting for it to get me sitting down in my bed. I weren’t going to die that way. I’d go out slashing my knife ’gainst its throat. I gritted my teeth and rushed outside. No moon showed my way, night was deep and full, but I saw that shadow stalking through the trees. Ain’t no hiding true evil, not even in the dark.
I followed it, knife held tight, right out to the edge of the water. Big black shape, something like a man, something like a beast, stood there casting looks out in all directions. Looking for me. Saw its head swinging left to right like an owl searching for vermin. Hands sharp like eagle talons hung by its sides and I felt my heart raging inside me. My eyes blurred and everything shook but I was ready for it.
I screeched worse than anything the demon would a’ heard in hell and run at it. Must a’ took it by surprise. It snapped ’round, hissed, and said words in some kind a’ devil language. I blocked my ears of it, didn’t want no evil putting a spell on me, dulling my mind even more. The demon raised his claws but I was quick as a hazel switch. I ducked his swiping arms and sliced my knife into his belly.
The beast roared and I heard something in that roar that sent my mind back a few years. That roar, I heard it when a buckhorn gored a hole in Trapper’s gut. It weren’t bad, not even deep, but he raged for days. I heard that sound sunup to sundown for near a week and I’d know it anywhere.
But this demon weren’t Trapper, weren’t Kreagar. Couldn’t a’ been. Kreagar couldn’t find me, I said so, I said he ain’t never finding me and I ain’t seen no sign a’ him since afore Dalston, ’less it really was his legs I seen in Matthews’s basement. Ain’t no matter, Lyon must a’ caught up with him by now. I twisted away and I saw nothing but darkness in that thing. I didn’t know what it was. My brain hurt and ached and I couldn’t think in straight lines. The demon said something, words what didn’t make sense to me, words like “You learning, you learning.”
He was gone fast as I could blink. Woods fell quick silent and I didn’t hear no more footsteps. I figured it had to a’ been a demon or a ghost to disappear like that. I didn’t know much a’ what happened next ’cept I woke up on the shore a’ that lake, knife still in my hand and a pool of dark blood next to me.
I slept all night and almost all through the next day after that. Body was drained and empty. Didn’t remember last time I ate. A heavy cloud weighed on my head and no amount a’ sleep seemed to lift it. But hell, my heart swelled when I went down to the water one morning and I saw Wolf standing, tight and tense, halfway ’round the lake.
“Hey, Wolf!” I said loud, saw his ears prick at the sound a’ me. Forgot all ’bout that demon.
Wolf came ’round the lake on them fat pad paws. Didn’t have no snow on him so he couldn’t a’ gone far. He was a hell of a sight, that’s for sure, all muscle and claws and teeth, and that fur, mixes of white and gray and that brown you get just when the leaves are turning. That black line down his head, ’tween his eyes. I tell you, that feeling is something no number a’ pretty words can make real. That’s ancient, old-time respect ’tween beasts. We could both kill each other quicker’n you could snap your fingers and maybe one day we w
ill, but by that lake and in them forests, I felt more kinship with that wolf than I ever did with a human.
He came close to me and sniffed, still a bit a’ nerves running through him. I knelt down and held out my hand.
“Got no rabbit heads for you no more,” I said, and he came up, nuzzled his nose ’gainst my hand.
Then he clamped his jaws right ’round my arm.
I fell onto my backside and tried to pull away. Cursed myself for leaving my knife in my hut. Felt his teeth pressing into my skin, but he weren’t biting me. He was just holding my arm in his mouth. Right gentle like he was carrying a pup by the scruff.
My shock went away slow but I kept looking in his eyes and there weren’t no hate there, no snarling. But he weren’t letting go neither. He started tugging me. Pulling me away from the water and toward my hut. I was so confused by it I went along, bending down all awkward to keep my arm straight.
He let me go when we got to my shelter. Then he started jumping about, running away into the trees and then coming rushing back at me. He wanted me to follow him, that was plain.
“I got all I need here, Wolf,” I said, dizzy for straightening up. “I got water and heat and food, I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”
