Mara hurried back to her car with a cup of coffee from the hotel bar and an overwhelming feeling of sadness in her heart. She’d never do this again. At least the swim had refreshed her. She was due for another transfusion in four days and knew that in two, she’d be too tired to do more than get herself out of bed in the morning and shower. But she felt okay now. Her team of doctors, led by Doctor Pendergast, wouldn’t be pleased that she’d spent the past two days swimming, but she didn’t care. One of the few benefits of dying is that you can do whatever you want towards the end. It wasn’t as if the two swims were going to dramatically shorten her life.
All the way to the ferry dock, a strange sensation filled the car. It was almost a scent, thin and metallic. A high-pitched melody, like a faraway harmonica or flute, distracted her. Tinnitus? Why not? It wasn’t like her body responded normally to anything else. She turned up the radio in the hopes of drowning it out.
Seated on her customary bench next to the front window of the ferry, she spotted odd wisps of smoke rising from the island. It was chilly today, so heating fires weren’t unexpected, but these were more like brush fires. At least it was wet out. In the summer something like that could be devastating.
Two hours later, her little silver Prius sped down Interstate 5. Mount Rainier, illuminated by the spotlight of the winter sun, shone against the clouds. Mara smiled. She filed the image away, locking it in her mind so that when she couldn’t muster the strength to go outside, she would still have it with her. The past few months had been filled with moments such as these. The Eiffel Tower at night. The brilliant aquamarine waters off of Capri. Seeing The Book of Mormon in London. Mara didn’t bother with photos or mementos. Not any more. She kept everything in her head and her heart. She’d had a good life. She’d keep having a good life for as long as she was able.
The strange scent was back. Coppery and musty. It smelled almost like wet dog. I must need to soak the wetsuit. Maybe there was some sort of algae bloom. Oh well, it’s not like it’s going to kill me faster than whatever has a hold of me. Turning up the heat, she cracked the window to clear the air and started to sing along to Great Big Sea.
Their single, “Let It Go”, seemed appropriate for what she was going through. She wouldn’t cry. For today, she felt . . . well, not good, but okay. Maybe she’d take a long, hot bath and open a bottle of wine. She could build a fire and be by herself. Her friends and Aunt Lillian meant well, but they hovered sometimes. Right now, Mara wanted to end the day alone with her thoughts.
When she pulled into her garage, she opened the trunk and tossed her wetsuit bag in the utility sink. Reaching for the blanket, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. There was something under there. She looked back towards the peg board on the wall. She needed a weapon. Hammer in one hand, she snatched the blanket away with the other.
“Goddess!” Mara tried to stifle her yelp, but it escaped anyway. Curled into a ball in her trunk was a wet, bloodied . . . wolf?
The animal jerked and raised its head. A weak whine shot directly to her heart and its head fell back down. Luminous blue eyes watched her, watering. This animal was in pain. Terrible pain. How had he ended up in her car? It had to have been when she’d gone into the hotel for coffee.
For a full minute, Mara held her breath. In the wolf’s eyes, she saw desperation, fear, and hope. He needed her. When the wolf shuddered, Mara lowered the hammer and took a step forward. He seemed to trust her, or at least wasn’t in any condition to attack her. Her shoe scraped along the concrete and the wolf whined again. Please, he seemed to say.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” Mara said, setting the hammer down. She kept her words quiet and soothing as she moved closer. The wolf’s eyes shone in the dim light of the garage. Mara dropped her gaze to his snout, not challenging him. Offering the wolf her hand, she crouched down so she was at his level. The wolf sniffed. He whimpered and nudged her hand with his nose. It was dry and hot. He pushed harder, sliding his whole muzzle under her hand. Mara risked looking into his eyes. He immediately wriggled closer to her and whined again.
Goddess, he’s magnificent. Or would be if there was anything to him. How the hell did he get here?She wasn’t sure where he’d come from, but she knew for certain he was dying.
“Good boy. Will you let me see your paw?” Mara curled her fingers around his leg, stroking the burned and bloody pads under his toes. Only one nail remained, worn down to the quick. When she tightened her grip, he yelped in pain and pulled back, shaking. His body curled inward, shrinking away from her touch. Mara tentatively stroked a gentle hand down his side and it came away slicked with blood. “You need a vet.”
The wolf closed his eyes. His entire body trembled for a moment and he gasped for breath. “It’s okay,” Mara crooned. “Hold on for me.” She retrieved her phone from her purse and called Adam. He treated horses at the Equestrian Center. He’d know what to do.
“Mara, what’s up?” He was chipper. Adam was almost always chipper.
“Um, I’ve got a problem.” How was she possibly going to explain this?
“Are you okay? Where are you? Do you need an ambulance?” Adam assumed the worst. He was like a brother to her and he had tried, repeatedly, to get Mara to move in with him and Lisa, but they had two young children. Mara liked her quiet, solitary house. She wasn’t about to give up her independence until she had no choice.
“No, it’s not me. I mean, I’m fine. Well, fine enough. For now. Look, um, when I was on Orcas . . . I picked up a stowaway in my car. I didn’t even realize it until I got home. It’s a wolf. He’s badly injured. He’s curled up in my trunk whimpering at me. Can you bring over some antibiotics and surgical needle and thread? He needs stitches.”
“Fuck, Mara. Not a chance. Call Fish and Wildlife or Animal Control before he kills you.”
“He’s not going to hurt me.” The wolf watched her, head cocked, breathing ragged. “He’s in terrible pain, Adam. I don’t even think he can get up, let alone attack me. Please do this for me. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important. He needs help. I need to help him. And for that, I need you.”
Adam groaned. “Way to lay on the guilt.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that. But I can’t let him lie here in pain.” Mara stroked the wolf’s massive head. His tongue lolled out from between slack jaws. Every few seconds, he shuddered.
“Fine. I’m on my way.”
After ending the call, Mara slid a hip onto the trunk next to the wolf. He made a groaning sound and tried to wriggle closer. “Shh. It’s going to be all right, buddy.” She angled her body so the wolf could lay his head on her thigh. The contact seemed to calm him and he closed his eyes. Something inside of her warmed when she stroked his fur. She felt better—stronger. This animal needed her and she wasn’t going to let him down. She hummed to herself, picking out the notes that seemed to form the backdrop of her life these days. She’d have to talk to her doctor about her hearing. Not that it mattered. A bit of tinnitus wasn’t going to kill her any faster.
The scrape of Adam’s key in her front door lock made her flinch and the wolf growled once before she patted his shoulder to calm him. Adam, Jen, and Aunt Lillian had keys to her place as a precaution. Everyone feared for the day Mara wouldn’t be able to get out of bed.
“Mara?”
“In the garage.” Mara stroked the wolf’s gray and brown fur. His pelt was caked in blood and dirt in places, but his head was surprisingly clean and the fur was soft and sleek.
Adam opened the door from the house and gaped. His dark brown hair stuck up in all directions and he ran a nervous hand through it. His chocolate eyes flicked from her to the wolf and back again. Faster than she expected, he was at her side and dragged her off the car by her arm. The wolf growled softly.
“Adam, let me go.” Mara shook off his hand and went back to the wolf. He calmed at her touch and licked her fingers. “Shh, good boy. You’re okay.”
“Shit. He likes you. That’s really weir
d.” Adam dropped his bag and withdrew a stethoscope. He listened to the wolf’s heart and lungs and palpated his legs. The wolf whimpered when Adam touched his paws and his back and looked up at Mara. She sat down and let him rest his head on her thigh again.
“Shh, bud. You’re going to be fine. I’ve got you.” She ruffled the silky fur on his head. Nothing about this animal frightened her.
“I can wrap up his paws and one of us can stitch his side. But he’s dying. He’s malnourished, long term. You can see it in his eyes. If he lasts another day it’ll be a miracle.” Adam stepped back. The wolf panted weakly, whining and licking Mara’s hand again. “We need to call Fish and Wildlife.” Adam dug his hand into his pocket and withdrew his mobile phone, but Mara shook her head.
“Wait.”
“The longer we wait, the more he’s going to suffer. They’ll put him down. Look at him. He can barely raise his head.”
Mara looked into the wolf’s eyes. She could almost read his plea. Her hand stroked down his side. Every rib stuck out, his hips were bony protrusions, and his pelt hung off of his body. His fur was matted, wet, and bloody. He was shivering. He knew he was dying. She saw herself, wasting away in a hospital bed, tubes sticking out of her arms, her nose, her throat. She shook her head again. “No. Go to the grocery store and get me two pounds of stew meat.”
“What?” Adam looked up from his phone. “You can’t be serious?”
“I am. If he’s going to die, he’s going to have one good meal first. And he’s going to be warm, with someone sitting next to him. He’s not going to die in a cage, put down by strangers who don’t care about him.” Mara couldn’t take her hand away from his pelt. The urge to touch him was so strong. The wolf made a weak sound, almost a whine.
When Adam didn’t move, Mara grabbed his arm. “We’ve talked about this. When it’s my time, you promised me. I won’t be stuck in a hospital bed hooked up to a bunch of machines. I’ll be at home. You, Lisa, Lillian, and Jen will be with me. You know how important this is to me. He’s me in a month. Can’t you see I need to do this for him?”
“He’s a wolf!” Adam was incredulous and backed away from Mara with his hand still clutching his phone.
“So? He’s an animal. He has a soul. He found me. The one person who could possibly know what he was going through. I don’t know how or why, but maybe the Universe knew I’d take care of him.”
The wolf inched forward and laid his head against Mara’s thigh. He made a deep questioning sound and nudged her.
“Go to the store for me. Please. Take money out of my purse. If he lives long enough to eat, I’ll call Fish and Wildlife myself.”
Adam’s brown eyes softened. When he rubbed his hands over his face, Mara knew she’d won this round. He’d do this for her. After a moment or two of rummaging through his pack, he withdrew two syringes, handed one to Mara, and slid the other needle into the wolf’s pelt at the nape of his neck.
“What’s that?”
“I gave him a sedative. I won’t take a chance that he’ll hurt you.”
“He rode all the way back from Anacortes with me and didn’t make a peep. He’s not going to hurt me, are you, buddy?” Mara bent down and looked the wolf in the eyes. The drugs had taken hold and his pupils were saucers within the blue depths. “No. You won’t.”
Adam gestured to the other syringe. “If he looks like he’s in distress, use this. It’ll stop his heart.”
Mara nodded. Adam spread some salve on the wolf’s paw pads and wrapped them up with gauze. The wolf licked the gauze once until Mara stopped him. “Leave those alone, buddy. They’re for your own good.”
Adam gestured to the wolf. “You want him inside? Or out here?”
“Inside. By the fireplace.”
Adam grunted at the wolf’s weight and muscled the animal inside. Mara led the way with the blanket, laying it next to her fireplace and turning on the gas to ignite the few logs she kept there. A wave of nausea hit her, but she swallowed hard and forced it away. Adam deposited the wolf on the blanket and brushed off his hands. He went back to the garage and retrieved surgical thread, a needle, and scissors from his bag.
“Stitch him up. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”
“Okay.”
When Mara and the wolf were alone, he looked up at her with a darting gaze, his eyes bright and shimmering. She forced a smile. “You’re pretty smart, you know that? You managed to find probably the only person on the whole island who knew exactly what you were going through. I’m dying too.”
The wolf made a desperate sound, something between a yip and a growl. He tried to get closer, but he was too weak. Mara stroked his back. “No one knows what’s wrong with me. But I’m down to my last two months or so. Adam’s right. I should call Fish and Wildlife. But they’ll put you in a cage and give you what’s in that syringe and you’ll be cold and alone. So you’re going to have a meal and you’re going to be warm, and if you look like you’re suffering too much, I’ll inject you myself.”
A few tears fell from Mara’s eyes. They landed with aplop on the wolf’s fur. She stitched up his shoulder with steady hands. She had no anesthetic and it must have hurt, but the wolf didn’t move. When Adam returned, he brought a bottle of wine, a dark chocolate bar, and three pounds of stew meat. He set the bag down next to Mara and stared down at his shoes.
“I don’t think this is a good idea, but I can’t blame you for wanting to make his last few hours better than the past few months have obviously been for him. I need to get back to Lisa and the girls. But if you need anything, you call, okay?”
Mara nodded. She kept stroking the wolf’s fur. His breathing was still labored but he was calm. After getting her a wine glass and corkscrew, Adam kissed the top of Mara’s head. The wolf growled quietly, but didn’t move. “I’ll check in on you tomorrow after work.”
Mara grabbed his forearm and squeezed. “Thank you.”
Adam let himself out. Mara opened the bottle of wine and poured herself a healthy glass before draping the blanket over the wolf. The plastic around the package of beef tore easily under her fingers. The wolf sniffed the air and whined. He tried to get at the package, but the blanket around his body foiled his movements. “Shh. It’s okay.” Mara took one of the pieces of cold meat and held it in her hand. The wolf gently plucked it from her palm. His lips were rough. He nudged her hand again.
“Don’t worry, bud. You get it all. As much as you want. But take it slow, okay? Wouldn’t want you to get sick.”
Piece by piece Mara fed the animal next to her. He licked her palm clean after each bite, tickling her and making her laugh. He managed two whole pounds before he stopped asking for more. Mara abandoned her wine and corked the bottle. She fingered the syringe.
“What do you think, bud?” she asked.
The wolf lifted his head. His eyes were clear and bright. She could read the plea there. I want to live.
“So do I,” she murmured. “It’s late. Let me get you some water.”
Mara trudged into the kitchen and filled a bowl. Her eyes watered and a halo of light framed her vision. She needed to shower. She always felt better after a shower. The wolf whined, tried to stand, and fell over. “Shit.”
Water splashed onto her hardwood floor as Mara hurried back to the wolf. She dropped to her knees and stroked his side, carefully avoiding the brand new stitches. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”
The wolf yipped. It was a low sound, quiet, but almost happy.
“You’re not going to stay here while I sleep, are you?”
His back legs flailed, useless, but he got his front legs under him to support his torso. He whined and looked up at her. “Well, clearly either my condition is progressing more rapidly than anyone thought, or you’re really good at communicating. You don’t want to be alone.”
The wolf shook his head so hard, he fell over.
“Careful there. You’re way too drunk on meat and sedative to do that.” Mara extricated the blanket from unde
r his skeletal body and folded it next to him. “Get on.” She pointed. He inched forward, repeatedly gazing up at her. “Go on. Trust me.”
Once the wolf curled up on the blanket, Mara grasped the corners and dragged him towards her bedroom. Her shoulder thudded against the wall more than once and the wolf yipped every time. Her eyes were dry and scratchy and her depth perception felt skewed. The more her mysterious disease progressed, the faster she became dehydrated and the odder she felt when she did. Once the wolf was settled next to her bed, she stumbled into the bathroom.
Stripping, she slipped underneath the warm spray, soaking up the precious moisture. She gulped down water from her insulated bottle and her nerves steadied. When the shower cooled, she dried off, donned her pajamas, and opened the bathroom door.
“Goddess!” Mara yelped. The wolf lay on the threshold. He raised his head. Mara bent down and stroked his matted fur. “Stubborn thing, aren’t you? Come on. Back to the blanket with you.” The wolf crawled after her and flopped down on his side. Nestled in the sheets, Mara stared down at the animal who was so much like herself. Weak, frightened, and alone. “Don’t die on me tonight, okay?” She didn’t know what she expected him to do, or if she expected him to answer her, but he laid his head down and closed his eyes. She did the same.
The wolf woke in the middle of the night. It was dark, but he was warm. Panic held his body still, pressing down on his chest. It suffocated him and left a bitter taste in his mouth. Where was the bad woman? Where was he? He couldn’t remember. He sniffed the air. Water, illness, coconut, smoke from a fire, and something wonderful, beautiful, and safe. Home. The woman. Mara. Man say Mara. The words shocked him. He hadn’t thought in words in a very long time.
He raised his head. Every movement hurt, but he wasn’t in the cage any longer. His belly was full. The blanket under him was thick. His paws felt funny. Mara. Mara helped him. Her skin was soft and cool and she’d laughed when he’d licked her. An inquisitive sound escaped his throat and something moved close by. Instantly on alert, he shrank into the corner of the room, trying to hide himself.
A Shift in the Water Page 5
