Wolf - Jean Wong

It was my mom. She’s like phobic about fur and tails—breaks out in a rash soon as she sees a paw. When she gave me the watch out for the wolf blah blah, I go whaa? Was she talkin’ husky or malamute? There’s no wolves around here. There's like Michigan Wolverines or writing checks to Save the Animals, but wolves? Give me a break. First, I can't go out with Russ, then she won't drop me off at the mall, then she says I can't take a walk in the f... woods on account of the wolf.

Then, the thing about picking flowers for grandma. Grandma lives in a condo. She wouldn't be caught dead living in the woods. And there's no flowers in the woods, at least not in our woods. All I've ever seen was some moss, maybe a mushroom.

No, the reason I went into the woods was to get away from my crazy mom. She's sitting there watching TV all day long. Then starts to rag at me about all the violence, how it's not safe to go anywhere, how she doesn't want to go into a movie theater anymore, and even like McDonalds is a danger zone. She can see I'm avoiding her and got my door locked. She starts hollering that she wants me to clean up my room. That's when I just opened the window and slipped into the woods.

I don't really like this nature stuff. I mean fresh air, colors of the leaves, blue sky—pretty boring. You can't shop in the woods. Yeah there's a couple of squirrels, birds and stuff, but no one you can really hang with.

So when I first saw him I thought cool. He looked like a biker dude with his jeans jacket and metallic scarf. And his tail was like, gorgeous. I had a little difficulty understanding him at first, but I figured that was just due to the inter-specie communication. It was only later that I realized it was on account of his over-sized tongue. 

Anyway, there he was resting under a tree, kind of laid back, elegant, a black serene Buddha type with red ruby facets radiating from his eyes. I stopped when he gave a low growl, but then the sound of his voice came out low and mellow, “My, my what a lovely coat you have on. So hard to find a suitable red nowadays, don’t you think?”

It really wasn’t a coat. It was my sister’s jacket, the one she never let me wear. And the part about the hood. There wasn’t any. They got that mixed up with the other girl, the one up north in Lake county—we were similar ages, only she was a year older, fourteen.

“Yeah... whatever,” I said, noticing how the two teeth on each side of the front of his mouth were so much longer than the others, the one on the right more crooked and yellow- brown. “Do you ever get toothaches,” I asked, not really knowing what else to say.

“Why are you interested in my teeth?” He cocked his head and his left ear pricked stiff and high.

“I dunno know,” I said. “They're pretty sharp. They look like someone filed them.” I wondered what he would do if he had to chew some gum, though I figured he wouldn't have any trouble eating flesh.

His stomach made a slight rumble. A sour smell rose from the ground and his large eyes turned small and hard.

“And your eyes,” I whispered, feeling pinned down and mesmerized as he stared at me. At the same time, his mouth opened showing a crimson tongue so long I couldn't help wondering how it could fit in his mouth.

“My eyes?” he said so softly I strained forward to hear him.

“Yes,” I said, “Your eyes are...so...” I could feel my own tongue twisted and tangled in my mouth. I couldn't seem to form any words but at last said “...so big.”

His eyes then relaxed and twinkled. His dark lips managed to curl into a friendly grin. “You can see so much better with big eyes, don't you think my dear?” he said with a chuckle that reminded me of my Uncle Edgar.

His fur turned grey and brown in a ripple of waves as a strong breeze shot through the air. He gave a drawn-out sigh, stretched and raised himself up to a tremendous standing position, much taller than I imagined. I gaped at this lanky form, bigger than any creature I'd ever seen. He came towards me, his front paws curved and drooping in an almost comical way as he walked on his hind legs. I've only seen a wolf, maybe on TV, but dogs come from the wolf family and they always walk on all fours. Then I noticed he was limping.

“What happened to your leg,” I asked.

He gave a short yelp and fell to the ground. I rushed to help him and in a flash I felt his hairy paw reach out and grab my arm.

After that I don't remember so good. Maybe he wasn't really a wolf. Maybe he was a guy with a dog. I don't like to talk about it all that much. Everyone wants me to tell my side of the story, but if you'd been there, you wouldn't feel like thinking about all the details. Still I can just be closing my eyes  and I'll see blue-black gummy folds of a long lip or clumps of dry, stiff fur floating in mid-air.

Mom says the police came later and shot him dead. But mom will say anything to get attention. My shrink says I could remember if I wanted to. I don't see the point. People like to yak so they can shake their heads and feel righteous and be glad that nothing happened to them. Guess that's what fairy tales are for. 

                                    ***