Wolf Logic

by Masha du Toit

  “And how would we pay the fees?” said Gia.

  “Let’s worry about that when we get to it. We’ll make a plan.”

  “She’s right, you know.” Billy was seated in an unravelling wicker basket chair, his feet up on a fender, two cats curled up in his lap. Gia wondered absently why the cats seemed so attracted to Billy, while they never came anywhere near Lizzie. “I’ve seen some of your stuff.” Billy eased himself deeper into the creaking chair. “You’re good. Maybe you can find some way to pay your way there at the school. Do odd jobs, or something.”

  They’d met Billy at Granny’s place, one miserable rainy afternoon when they’d hit rock bottom. It had been the day they’d run out of food and a woman they’d thought they could trust had stolen all their things and tried to sell them out to Special Branch. Exhausted, starving and shaking with pent-up rage, Lizzie had finally agreed to ask Granny for help.

  Gia remembered how they’d sidled into Granny’s shop, hollow with hunger and dripping rain all over the linoleum. Billy had recognised Gia at once.

  A few minutes later, wrapped in a towel and cradling an enormous cup of hideously sweet tea, she had learnt that Billy was often in the area, visiting her brother.

  “Your dad doesn’t like me much,” he’d told her then. “But the little boy’s pretty lonely.”

  Nico had not adjusted well to his return to normal life. Gia had not visited her family’s home since the escape, but she got news from Billy and messages from Granny. Her brother’s newly discovered powers made an awkward fit with the life of a seven-year-old and it was taking the combined efforts of Mandy, Granny, the caretaker, Miss Winterbach and Billy to keep him out of trouble. Still, according to Billy, things were a little better now. “Fewer broken plates, and your dad’s getting the hang of dealing with it all.”

  It was Billy who’d suggested that Lizzie might find work at Johnny Clifton’s. And now he made it a habit of dropping in on them whenever he could, bringing news from home and sometimes helping Lizzie with a job. He was always by himself. Gia had not seen Spyker again, since that day at the Waterfront. Billy never spoke of him, but Gia suspected that Spyker had joined the Belle Gente, and that the two of them were no longer friends.

  She watched now, as Lizzie packed her tools back into her toolbox. The girl moved with telltale care and Gia knew she was feeling the coming of her monthly change. Lizzie never complained, but Gia knew by now what signs to watch out for. The tenderness around the jaw as Lizzie’s teeth lengthened. The pain in her joints and the hot flushes along her arms and back that grew nearly unbearable as the change approached.

  It would probably be months, maybe years, before she regained the easier rhythm she’d had before Special Branch started pumping her full of hormones. Late at night, as she listened to Lizzie groan quietly in the dark, Gia sometimes wondered if her friend would ever fully recover. But now, out in the sunshine with Lizzie, Billy and the cats, it was easy to forget her doubts. Maybe Lizzie was right. Maybe it was possible to return to something like the life she’d had before all of this stuff had happened.

  “You guys still going up to Woodstock tonight?” said Billy, leaning back, eyes closed in the sun.

  “Yup,” said Lizzie tersely. Then, catching Gia’s eye, “No, it’s okay, I don’t mind taking you. It’s important you go.”

  “Nico’s all set on everybody being there. All the family, I mean.” Billy opened one eye to look at Lizzie. “No offence, Liz. I’m not invited either.”

  “That’s okay.” Lizzie straightened, hefting her toolbox up on one hip. “I’ll keep out of the way. No big deal.”

  They watched her go, making her way back to the main shop where the customers left their cars.

  “Your dad doesn’t know about Lizzie yet, does he?” said Billy. “I mean, know she’s a were and all.”

  “No. He’s not even met her yet.” And at Billy’s enquiring eyebrow, she added, “I’ve hardly seen him myself. Just once or twice, because he insisted.”

  “He’s worried about you.”

  “I know, but he doesn’t have to worry. I’m fine.”

  “That’s just what daddies do,” said Billy, as another cat climbed onto his lap. “And Nico would like to see you too.”

  “I’ll see him tonight, won’t I?”

  “Fair enough.”

  -oOo-

  The quarry was dark. Beyond the light from the streetlights, grass and trees stretched into the night. Gia looked both ways, but the street was deserted.

  A glance at her watch told her it was still some minutes before midnight.

  “We’re in good time,” said Lizzie. “You sure you’re going to be okay all by yourself?”

  “I won’t be by myself for long. I think I can see my father’s car down there.” Gia dismounted from the bike and handed her helmet to Lizzie. It was a much smaller, less flashy bike than the one they’d stolen and Lizzie was still paying it off.

  “I’ll pull the bike out of sight and wait just over there by those trees,” said Lizzie. “If you have any trouble, give me a shout.”

  “Okay.”

  The gate was locked, but the fence was low enough to climb over without too much trouble. Gia jumped down into the long grass then walked deeper into the park. The damp grass caught around her knees. She walked carefully, remembering the broken glass and other litter that was often hidden here among the trees. As she went, she looked out for any sign of her father and Nico. They would be coming from the other side, from the bottom, but maybe they’d climbed up here already.

  There was somebody against the fence, in the shadow cast by the bus shelter. For a moment Gia froze and tensed, ready to run, but a hand waved and she heard her father’s voice. “Gia!”

  Forgetting her caution she ran the rest of the way. “Dad. Nico!”

  Nico nearly knocked her off balance, wrapping his arms around her. “Gia!”

  “How you doing, Nico, you okay?”

  Her father stood watching them. Gia was uncomfortably aware that only a short while ago he’d have hugged her too, but now they didn’t seem sure how to behave with one another.

  “How are you, Gia?” he asked at last, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder.

  “Fine, Dad. I’m fine.” She got a hand free from Nico and wiped impatiently at her tears. Her father dug in his pocket and gave her a wad of tissues. “Thanks.” She blew her nose. Her father, she noticed, held a long coat over his arm and she wondered why he was carrying it rather than wearing it.

  “Gia, are you really okay? When will you be able to come home?”

  “Dad, you know—” She fought down the irritation with an effort. “I don’t know. When they’re no longer looking for me, I suppose. Have you had any trouble?”

  “We’ve had a bit of excitement. Some constables came round last week, asking questions. Stirring up the neighbours too.”

  “Nobody followed you here?”

  “No. We were careful.” He glanced at his watch. “Gia, this place you are staying at. Is it safe? Do you have enough money? Mandy sent this for you.” He indicated a bulging bag that lay by his feet. “There’s some money in there, from me, an apple pie Mandy baked, some more food, clothes...”

  “Thanks, and please say thanks to Mandy for me. We’re doing okay.” She hesitated. “I’m thinking— I’m thinking of trying to get into that art school after all. I might come round some time, get my portfolio things again—”

  “Good girl.” Her father nodded, clearly pleased. She could tell that he was holding back what he really wanted to say and was relieved. She didn’t want another argument about not coming home.

  Nico was pulling at his father’s sleeve. “Come,” he insisted. “Deeper.”

  “What is he—” asked Gia, but her father was already following Nico into the park. The three of them walked carefully down the steep grassy slope to the bottom of the quarry. There, Nico slipped his hand out of Karel’s grasp and hurried out in front of them.

&n
bsp; “Nico!” said Karel in a loud whisper, but as the boy showed no signs of slowing, he sighed and followed him into the shadows between the trees. The boy stopped right at the back of the quarry, where a deep cleft drove into the rocks that rose in a wall. Gia looked up. Above them, a tree clung to the very edge of the cliff, bent over the edge, branches and roots reaching down into the empty air, a curtain that screened the stars.

  Even the slight breeze that had stirred the grass outside did not reach them in here. Insects peeped in the grass and the tick...tick...tick of a frog. Beyond the opening to the lower parts of the quarry she could see the lights of cars on the boulevard and hear their muted roar. Her father’s hand tightened on her arm and she followed his gaze. There was something in the shadows, in the grass.

  A flickering shape. She heard her father’s breath hiss and she saw that Nico was stepping slowly towards it. Something white that changed as she drew closer. A long, slender neck. Wings that opened nervously, then folded again.

  Gia drew level with Nico. “How did you know?” she whispered. “Why is she?” She felt her father’s hand on her arm and hung back. They watched as the boy approached the swan, walking confidently at first then slowing down. The bird had seen them. Its head was up, its body tense. Gia was sure that it would be up in an instant, up and away, but she dared not move, or even call out.

  Nico stopped, wavering. “Mom?” His call was whisper-soft and Gia heard the note of doubt. The swan ducked its head, wings hunched and Gia winced in expectation of the beat and lift of the fleeing bird, but instead the creature seemed to shrug, to sink down, shake herself as if her feathered skin was slipping like a cloak from her shoulders. Saraswati rose from the grass, white and naked in the light filtering through the trees, her long, black hair stirring in the night breeze, her arms opening to the child now running towards her. For timeless moments they stood, arms around one another.

  Then Saraswati looked up, startled by Karel’s heavy footfalls.

  “Here,” he said, holding out the cloak.

  Nobody moved. Saraswati stared at her husband, black eyes wide, poised on the edge of flight. Then she shook her head and his arm dropped to his side, letting the cloak fall on the grass.

  “Mom?” Nico looked up at her. “Stay?”

  Saraswati smoothed the hair back from his forehead. Her mouth opened, then closed again.

  She can’t speak. The thought ran through Gia like ice.

  Nico was frowning, struggling with the words he desperately wanted to say. “I see,” he said at last. “I with you. See what you see. Feel what you feel.”

  Saraswati knelt down in front of him, seemed to want to gather him in for another embrace, but Nico resisted.

  “You no stay. Dangerous.” He frowned ferociously with the effort. “You fly now. Far. Summer wind. You want fly. With swans, family, I know.” His hands were clenched into fists. “You go. Safer.”

  For a long moment they looked at one another. Then Saraswati rose and looked up at where Karel and Gia waited. The question was clear in her eyes. Step by step, Gia walked closer, the blood thundering in her ears. At last she was close enough to touch her mother, but the two of them stood, unmoving. Then Saraswati reached out and traced one cold fingertip down Gia’s cheek. Tucked a strand of Gia’s hair loose behind her ear in that old, familiar way.

  “You must go, Mom,” Gia had to fight to keep her voice steady. “Go where you need to go. I’ll come looking for you, as soon as I can.”

  The black eyes turned to Karel, lingered there.

  “We came to say goodbye,” Karel said at last. “Goodbye. Good luck.”

  Saraswati nodded. She turned and walked to where she’d left her feather-skin glimmering in the grass. She stooped to pick it up and Gia looked away, not wanting to see that transformation again.

  When she looked again, the swan was shaking out its wings. Then it rose and with a rush of wind through feathers, was gone.

  -oOo-

  Lizzie was still there, waiting outside the fence next to the road.

  “You okay?”

  Gia nodded.

  “What was it about?”

  “My mother.” She took the helmet from Lizzie and put it on. “She came, but now she’s gone again.”

  Lizzie punched her softly on the arm. “Sorry, dude. Want to go?”

  “Yes.”

  They got onto the bike and Lizzie started the engine. “Tell you what.” Lizzie adjusted her helmet. “How about we go hunt down some fish and chips. I’m thinking— Muizenberg, maybe. Eat it there on the beach. Sound okay to you?”

  Gia felt something relax inside her, like a knot beginning to untie itself.

  “Sounds like a plan,” she said and smiled as Lizzie revved the engine.

  “Well, watch out, world,” said Lizzie. “Here we come!”

  They sped off into the dark.

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