by Sean McGowan
Chapter 5:
Wolves of August
“I dunno! I just wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face,” said Winston, attempting to explain why he switched Lorne’s backpack with Samson’s.
“What about Samson?” asked Harold. “Now his backpack’s gone.”
“Oh, that’s all right,” said Samson. “It was just filled with rocks.”
Harold sighed. “Okay, while we figure out what to do, why don’t you run to the welcome center and grab us a map, Winston?”
“Oh, I suppose I could do that,” muttered Winston. He trotted off to the welcome center, humming jovially.
Harold turned to Wayne. “So you knew about The Order of the Bull?”
“My cousin went to school with Byron Fleischer, so I knew about the trouble they caused,” said Wayne. “I didn’t know Lorne started it up again, though. I could have told you what I knew if you hadn’t kept this secret.”
Harold scratched his chin. “Lorne told me about Bryon too, but he gave me the impression that the club changed more than it had.”
“Well, I could have told you not to trust Lorne,” said Wayne.
“Hindsight’s twenty-twenty,” said Doug. “Nothing we can do about it now.”
“I have returned!” Winston stepped in with the map in hand.
“That was quick,” said Harold.
“Yeah, I’m not a complete hindrance.” Winston opened the map as the group huddled around him.
The map showed Lake Ignotus and the surrounding areas. The Lost Woods sat on the northwestern shore, while Curious Heights sat on the eastern shore.
“So Curious Heights is about three-hundred miles away from here,” observed Doug.
“We ought to start heading north,” said Wayne.
“North?! Curious Heights is east of here,” said Winston.
“But I90 is just over Mount Okwaho,” said Wayne, referring to the nearest highway.
“Well that doesn’t do us a whole lot of good,” said Harold. “Unless you want to hitchhike. Which I don’t.”
Winston pulled his Gamebu out of his pocket and began to play it.
“At least there’s people there,” said Wayne. “Plus, a rest stop probably isn’t too far away.”
Harold thought for a moment. “Maybe we could use a payphone to call home.”
“Good idea,” said Doug. “Don’t you think our parents are suspicious about us staying an extra week, anyway?”
“Mine wouldn’t give it a second thought,” said Winston.
“Yeah, perhaps,” said Harold. “But it doesn’t make much difference to us at the moment.”
Wayne started to walk. “So we’re off, then?”
“Hold on,” said Harold. “What are we gonna do about the...” He looked at Samson’s backpack.
“Take it back to Colonel Seward’s house,” said Wayne. “I mean his house is in Curious Heights.”
“I know that, Wayne,” said Harold. “We go to school with his kids.”
“I was just saying...” Wayne looked at his feet.
Harold looked around at the wilderness. “We should hide it somewhere.”
“The bulls will beat us to a pulp until we tell them where it is!” cried Wayne.
“Why don’t we smash it?” asked Winston.
Harold pointed at Winston. “You’re not allowed to be part of this conversation.” He looked at the others. “But he may have a point.”
“I’m pretty confident that would be illegal,” said Samson.
Harold threw his hands up and began to walk. “Fine! Whatever! We’ve already wasted enough time.” The others followed as he walked into the forest toward Mount Okwaho.
A little later, the boys continued to make their way up the mountain of twisted trees. There was enough room between the trees to leave a wide path of grass for Harold and his friends to walk up. The only true obstacle at the moment was the distance to the top. This atmosphere, with its fluttering birdsongs, golden light shining through the trees, and lush plant and fungal life put Harold in a mood to pretend he was on an important adventure in a medieval fantasy world. Daydreams such as this provided a nice counterbalance to Harold’s melancholy longings. But of course, the bit about his being on an important adventure was quite real.
Doug observed Winston, who was playing his Gamebu. “What are you playing now?” asked Doug
“Count Nordrick’s Quest,” Winston replied.
“Can I give it a try?”
Winston paused for a moment, then looked up at Doug. “No.”
“What the heck, man?!”
“‘What the heck’ indeed. Why ask a question when you only have one answer in mind?”
“You ask to use my stuff all the time and I always let you.”
Winston shrugged. “It’s not my fault you never say no.”
Doug rolled his eyes and sighed. Meanwhile, Harold and Wayne trailed a few yards behind the other three.
“Sorry if I sounded angry,” said Wayne. “I just don’t want that thing to fall into the wrong hands.”
“It’s already in the wrong hands,” said Harold.
“Well... Wronger hands...”
“I get it. It’s just that... I promised Sally I’d see her before she leaves. If I don’t get back in time... That would be bad.”
“When does she leave?”
“Saturday morning.”
“So today’s, what, Monday? We’ll make it back by then.”
Harold stared at his feet. “I hope you’re right...”
“Why don’t you talk to the other guys about this?” asked Wayne.
Harold shook his head. “What would it matter to them?”
“It’s been eating at you all summer. It would help for them to know why you’ve been so distant. Besides, they might have some good words of encouragement.”
“Nah...” Harold thought for a moment. “I’m still gonna tell her I like her, though.”
“Before she leaves?” Wayne seemed puzzled.
“Yeah, she deserves to know. Plus, I need to know if she’s felt the same way. What if her family doesn’t move back? I may never see her again...”
Wayne searched his mind for an encouraging response. “You’ll see her in Heaven.”
Harold’s eyes glazed over. “Thanks Wayne. That helps a bunch.”
“I’m sorry. I guess this is kind of my fault. “
Harold shook his head. “How’s that?”
“Remember two years ago when I asked you if you liked anyone?”
“Yeah.”
“You said you’d never thought about it, but if you liked anyone, it would probably be Sally. You’ve been obsessed ever since.”
“Huh... I guess you’re right, but the thought would have probably occurred to me sooner or later... Maybe.” Harold stopped to pick a tiny rock out of his shoe. “I never even got to hand her the kite I made. I don’t even know if she liked it.”
Wayne looked at Harold sympathetically, but didn’t know what to say. Up ahead, Winston, still playing his game, walked into a tree.
“AGH, Crap!!!” Winston stepped back to shake off the pain and regain his composure. He looked angrily at Doug. “Why didn’t you tell me I was about to walk into a tree?!”
“It wouldn’t have happened if you’d let me play your game,” said Doug.
Winston shrugged. “Huh. You’re right. I guess it’s not so bad.” He buried his head back in the game and kept walking.
Eventually, the boys made it out of the woods into a grassy clearing and looked upon what appeared to be the approaching mountaintop.
“Finally! I thought we’d never reach the top,” said Wayne as he jogged ahead. As soon as he reached the crest of the hill, he came to a sudden slouching stop. “What the heck...” As the others caught up, they all observed that the mountain continued far past this small hillcrest.
Doug put his hand on Wayne’s shoulder. “Just when you think you’re finished, it looks like it will never end. It’s one of life’s harsh real
ities.”
Winston coughed. “Hey, I’ve got a gremlin in my stomach. How ‘bout we stop for lunch?”
Harold looked at a deer grazing at the edge of the forest. “Yeah, alright.” He pointed at the deer. “You want to just kill that deer for us?”
Winston shook his head. “No, I mean one of yins has to have bag of beef jerky or something.”
“I have, like, half of one,” said Doug.
“Let’s have at it!” cried Winston.
The boys all sat in a circle as Doug distributed the beef jerky. Each one received about one or two bites’ worth. Winston lifted his paltry portion to his mouth.
“Wait!” shouted Wayne, causing everyone to pause. “We have to say grace first.”
Harold nodded. “Take it away, Wayne.”
Wayne bowed his head and the others followed. “Dear Lord, we thank you so much for this food and for... That... Well, thanks for the food, anyways.”
All five boys threw the beef jerky in their mouths and finished eating in about five seconds.
“That was great!” said Samson. “What’s for dinner?”
Harold stood up. “Eh... Probably nothing.”
The rest stood up and they continued on their merry way. After another tiring hour, they finally made it to the peak of the mountain. The ground cut down sharply in front and Lake Ignotus rested behind them. A rickety wooden bridge stretched about three hundred meters across the chasm ahead, to the top of another green mountain, which was covered in trees. Dark birds flew in and out of the fog deep below the bridge, while waves of green grass covered the horizons.
“Well, our circumstances are poop,” said Wayne, “but you have to admit this is a pretty cool view.”
The others nodded in agreement as a chubby frog hopped by.
“I could eat that frog,” said Winston through a mouthful of drool.
Wayne pointed to the mountain on the other side of the bridge. “So is that Mount Okwaho, or is this Mount Okwaho?”
“I think they both might be,” said Harold. “They’re sort of connected.”
“Every mountain is sort of connected,” said Wayne.
“Well, whatever mountain that is, we need to get over there.” Harold motioned for the others to cross.
Winston leaned forward to inspect the bridge. “Yeah, but I’m not sure this bridge is the way to do it.”
“Any other way would take too long,” said Harold. He waved both hands.
Winston stepped aside. “If you’re in such a hurry, we don’t want to hold you up.”
Harold looked at his motionless friends and sighed. “Alright...” He stepped onto the bridge and started to walk. Soon, to Harold’s relief, the others began to follow. While the walk across the bridge was longer and more frightful than any of them would have liked, all five soon made it across without harm.
The sun was now setting and the fog began to rise from the chasm as Harold and company found themselves at the edge of another forest. Maybe it was only the climate and time of day, but this forest felt more haunted than the last. Harold decided to give his imagination a break, as he found his present reality more than enough to contend with.
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” said Harold. “We’ll be home before we know it.”
As Harold spoke, a loud hoot descended from above. The boys looked up to find an owl with bull horns on its head, flying in circles and carrying a rolled up piece of paper.
“What kind of hell-creature is that?” cried Samson.
“It’s a bad omen,” said Wayne.
The owl swooped down, dropped the paper in Harold’s hands, and flew away. Harold unrolled the paper and read aloud the two words which were written on it.
“‘We’re coming’... It’s not signed but... It probably doesn’t need to be.” Harold looked up at the others who met him with blank stares. “This doesn’t really change anything. We’ve still got to keep moving.” He crinkled up the paper and looked around. “I don’t suppose there’s a trashcan anywhere around here...”
“Actually, can I borrow that?” Winston snatched the paper from Harold and ran into the woods. As he was gone, clouds quickly gathered in the sky overhead. Thunder cracked and rain began to trickle down.
“Oh happy day,” said Samson.
“Let’s get out of this rain,” said Harold, stepping into the woods. The others followed.
Doug scanned the area. “Where’d that little booger get off to?”
Winston reemerged, appearing satisfied. He held his hands up to the rain to get them wet and then rubbed them together.
“What did you do with that note?” asked Harold.
“Oh, you don’t want it.” Winston looked left and right. “So which way, Chief?”
Harold pointed forward and began to walk. “This way.” He didn’t lead his friends far before they began to hear howling in the distance.
“Was that a wolf?” Doug shuttered.
“Maybe it was a werewolf,” said Wayne.
“Oh yeah, because you believe in that stuff,” said Doug.
“Safe to say it wasn’t a squirrel,” said Harold. His eyes darted side to side. “Hey, where’s Samson?” He turned around to find Samson lying facedown in the dirt.
“Aww, isn’t that cute,” said Winston.
Harold ran over and pulled Samson up. “Samson, what are you doing?”
“I’m praying for our protection.”
“Can’t you do that without playing dead?” Harold dusted the dirt off Samson’s clothes. Suddenly, there was a crack of thunder, accompanied by a flash of lightning, which revealed the figures of Magnus Simmons and two masked Order of the Bull members through the trees up ahead. Harold sprang up like a pogo stick and tugged on Samson’s shirt. “Guys, we need to go!” He and Samson started to run.
“What? Why?” cried Wayne.
Harold and Samson only made it a few yards when Magnus and his two cohorts dropped down from a tree in front of them. Harold and Samson came to a screeching halt. “That’s why,” yelled Harold as he and Samson took off in a sprint to the right.
Wayne, Winston, and Doug followed, with Magnus and the bulls on their tail. One of the bulls dove on top of Wayne and Winston, pinning them to the ground. The second bull immediately did the same to Doug. The chase soon began to wear on Samson, who started trailing behind Harold. Finding the risk of both of them being captured preferable to the certainty of Samson’s capture, Harold scooped Samson up and carried him along.
Despite the added weight, Harold had gotten enough of a head start that Magnus was unable to catch up. Realizing this, Magnus pulled out a lasso made from a chain of colored cloths and hurled it at Harold. The lasso caught around Harold’s waist and Magnus yanked him to the ground. As Harold and Samson crashed into the dirt, Magnus dove on their backs and pinned them still.
“Where is it?!” shouted Magnus
“Where is what?” asked Samson.
Three howls, louder than the ones before, revealed that the wolves were closer. Magnus looked toward where the noise came from. “Ugh! Not now...” He started to sweat and looked back at Harold. “We don’t have time to screw around! Where’s the computer?!”
“Bite me!” Harold yelled back.
Like a crashing wave, three wolves burst through the trees and into view, landing only a few yards from the boys.
Magnus shook. “I’ll leave that to them.” He released Harold and Samson, grabbed onto his fedora, and disappeared into the trees. Magnus’s two cohorts followed suit, with one of the wolves taking off after them. Wayne, Winston, and Doug scrambled off the ground and fled from the second wolf, as the third headed for Harold and Samson.
Harold dragged Samson off the ground and carried him about thirty feet before stopping in front of a steep hill covered forty feet down with bushes and briars. He looked back at the wolf and knew he had only one choice. “Sorry buddy...” he muttered as he lifted Samson high. Without delay, Harold jumped as far out as he could. He managed to make
it halfway down the hill before landing in the bushes and losing grip of Samson.
After rolling the rest of the way, Harold unfurled at the base of the hill. With much pain, he wrenched himself off the ground. “Samson?” Harold looked behind to find Samson stuck in the bushes halfway up the hill.
Samson waved. “I’m okay Harold... I think.”
As Samson spoke, the wolf appeared at the top of the hill and leapt down towards Harold, who began to sprint just as the wolf landed behind him. In half a minute, Harold had escaped from the woods into an open grassy area. He could see three large stone structures sitting in the distance.
As Harold kept running, he looked back to see all three wolves emerging from the trees. “God, get these wolves away from me!!!” he screamed. He quickly arrived at the structures, which were cubic in shape and increased in size from one to the other. Harold frantically climbed onto the smallest stone, jumped to the middle one, and leapt onto the largest, which was about eight square feet on its surface and ten feet high.
Harold ran to the far edge of the stone and stopped. One of the wolves followed Harold’s path to the top of the largest stone while the others waited on the ground below him. Shaking violently, Harold turned around to face the wolf on the stone. “Please God, please God, no...” he whimpered.
The wolf growled and snapped its jaws, causing Harold to slip and fall off the rock. He landed hard on his back and went unconscious.
