by Hallie Lee
“—wolves. Got it.” I smiled, falling in love with her more and more with each word translation.
“It went on forever it seemed. I remember Mama and I watching from the window while Uncle Wolf and Mamaw just stood in the yard, whispering to one another. Waiting.”
“What was Madhawk doing?”
“Sitting in his chair with his gun across his lap.” Her expression hardened. “Eventually, when the pack felt safe, they crept out of the shadows, fully revealing themselves. The mama tala coaxed her scrawny little pup along. He had small ears and a little rounded head. He was deaf and blind.” She turned to me, offering an explanation. “All talas are when they’re little.
“From the window, Mama and I could see Mamaw gesture to Uncle Wolf, signaling him to lower himself to the ground. The two of them sat there forever, just waiting and watching while the wounded wolf licked her pup. Grooming him, loving him.”
“Telling him goodbye?” I asked.
“Yes,” she answered thickly. “Finally, the mama flashed her blue eyes at Mamaw, and slipped off into the woods, and the rest of the pack limped along behind her. We never saw her again. Uncle Wolf found fresh tracks all around the area for weeks after. He thinks that the rest of the pack, the ones who survived, came back periodically, lingering in the woods behind our house.”
“Checking on the pup?”
“Yes. And mourning his mother.”
I remained silent, sensing that Bella had drifted into an emotional place unknown to me.
“Mamaw named the pup Hania, and fed him from a bottle until he was big enough to eat. And Uncle Wolf killed squirrels and other small rodents for him.” Bella stared into the distance. “We’d sit for hours, laughing as he learned how to howl. We were his pack, I guess.” She grinned at the memory. “Uncle Wolf played videos of howling baby wolves, and even howled himself to demonstrate.”
I chuckled. “I take it he learned just fine.”
“Oh yeah. He became a—” She stopped, suddenly guarded.
“A what?”
Bella rested her head on my shoulder. “Something about him—that magnificent, regal wolf—made Mamaw stronger. Invincible almost.”
•
We spent the afternoon passing out flyers across the creek, and although we encountered mostly elderly folks, young Fireman’s Granny Lacey invited us in for a spell.
“Come and sit,” the old woman herded us inside. “I baked some zucchini bread.” She set plates out, telling Bella, “Your Uncle sent a whole basket home with my grandboy last week.”
“It looks delicious,” Bella said, winking at me. Because it didn’t. “Where is he anyway? My little Fireman?”
The zucchini bread was as hard as stone. “This is wonderful,” I lied, wheedling it down my throat with sweet tea.
Lacey’s eyes narrowed into slits. “I’ll send the recipe home for your mama.” She turned to Bella. “How’s Wolfheart doing? I guess I won’t be seeing anymore squash or zucchini now that his garden blew up.” She shook her head regretfully. “A shame, that.”
I suspected Granny Lacey lamented the loss of produce more than the violation of Wolfheart’s property.
“He’s okay,” Bella said. “Don’t worry. He’ll replant.” She asked again, “Where’d you say Fireman was?”
“I don’t know where that boy gets off to half the time. He carries on like he’s a teenager already.” When she looked at us expectantly, Bella and I choked down another bite of zucchini bread. “He mumbled something about a meeting in town when he left.” She tapped the flyer. “I’d expect you’d know about that, seeing as how you have big plans for Shady Gully.” Her expression was accusatory.
“Uh…I haven’t heard anything about a town meeting. No.”
“Anyway, a truck packed with Creeks pulled up, honked for him to hurry.”
After another glass of tea, we bid Lacey goodbye. We spent the afternoon knocking on door after unanswered door. “Maybe they’re not answering because they’ve heard how annoying I can be.”
“You’re not annoying.” Bella arched her brow. “You’re just focused. Passionate.”
I shook off the way her lips moved when she said passionate, and pressed on, bobbing along from pothole to pothole, without a soul in sight. We settled for slipping flyers under porch rugs and sliding them into mailboxes.
As we headed back to Shady Gully, I lamented the lack of engagement across the creek.
“Well, there’s everybody.” Bella pointed toward the substation as we neared the four way stop. “They’re lined up from the sheriff’s office all the way to the Cozy Corner.”
“And beyond Jesse’s church.” A sense of foreboding swept through me.
“They’re carrying signs.”
Since my auto body shop was one of the businesses occupying the corners of the four way stop, it too was swarmed with people toting signs. You Trespassed Over our Hallowed Ground, and We Don’t Forgive Trespassers, among the colorful slogans.
Sprite’s gas station, as well as Charlie Wayne’s Cozy Corner, were equally occupied.
None compared to the fury pulsing in front of Jesse’s church though, and the verbiage on those signs touted a more specific demand. Jesse is a Liar! Send Jesse to Jail!
If the goal was to disrupt the busiest intersection in town—the four way stop—the operation had succeeded. The Creek People’s protest extended farther than my eye could see, and as their signs pounded the air in anger, their frustration was palpable.
“What the…” I slowed, regarding a fresh wave of outrage. “Does that say…?”
“Justice for Wolfheart!” Bella read another sign. “Uncle Wolf wouldn’t want this.” She reached for her phone.
I watched as Sheriff Rick tried to calm the crowd, but his actions were in vain as the protesters angrily thrust their placards in his face. I almost felt sorry for the ornery curmudgeon, but my concern for him vanished when an unruly group, including Youngdeer and Moonpipe, swarmed my car.
I shifted to park, and rolled my window down.
When they saw Bella sitting beside me, they appeared uncertain, and glanced at Redflyer for direction.
I nodded toward my auto body shop, where Daryl and Bubba munched on chips and handed out water to the protesters. “Why don’t we go to my shop and talk this out?” I tried reasoning with them. “I’m sure we can—”
“Look!” Bella put her phone aside. “There’s Fireman!”
Bella jumped out of the car, and stalked heatedly toward the chanting boy, who carried a sign with a flame drawn around the words, Fight Fire with Fire!
“Bella—”
She grabbed Fireman by the arm, tossing his sign to the ground. When she finished fussing at him, she set in on Redflyer. The big man shrunk in size as Bella waved her finger at him.
Quietdove managed to move a few folks aside, allowing me to open the door of my car. “You should probably lay low like your buddies over there.” He pointed across the road toward Daryl and Bubba, as they chatted easily with those lined up around the shop. I watched as they rewarded their favorite signs with good natured thumbs-ups.
“Good gracious,” I muttered. “It’s like we’re in a big city.”
“I reckon it is,” Sheriff Rick bristled as he strode toward me. “Isn’t that what you wanted, kid?”
“This isn’t—”
“Dang it,” he cursed. “Now here comes Jesse and his bunch.”
Max hurried over. “This is gonna get ugly, Sheriff. What do you want to do?”
“You go over and calm Thaddeus and Big Al down. And Quietdove, you hold the fort here.” Sheriff Rick glanced about, eyeing Bella. “Your uncle is the only one they’ll listen to.”
“I know,” Bella answered.
“See if you can get him out here.”
Bella punched buttons on her pho
ne, moving aside and plugging her ear to muffle the chaos.
“What started all this?” I asked Sheriff Rick.
“Ah,” he snapped. “My fault.”
I stared at him in shock.
“The sacred grounds for one thing,” he bemoaned. “And I probably made it worse at Wolfheart’s when I mentioned Jesse and his garden in the same sentence.”
The sheriff’s words were immediately drowned out as the two opposing sides collided, and pandemonium erupted.
Quietdove grunted, steeling off Redflyer and Moonpipe as they lunged toward Jesse and his group.
“Arrest him!” Youngdeer pointed at Jesse. “Or he’ll face the fire!”
Vicious taunts and excited screams combined to create an exaggerated level of chaos. I locked eyes with Bella, who still had Fireman by the arm.
“There’s only so much I can do,” Quietdove hollered at the sheriff. “I’ve never seen them like this.”
“This is terrible,” Bella cried.
I swept Fireman into my arms. “Y’all come with me. Hurry.” I quickly herded them toward the body shop where Bubba and Daryl held the door open. After we all filed in, they shut the door tightly behind us.
“Want some chips, kid?” Bubba offered the bag to Fireman.
Fireman shook his head, barely acknowledging Bubba. Instead, his gaze was fixed on the mounting rage outside.
When I turned, I saw the baseball bat in Jesse’s hands.
Chapter Twenty
Doomsday Netflix Series
Sheriff Rick
I
t had finally gone and happened. Shady Gully, Louisiana had spun into a doomsday Netflix series. Everywhere I looked, the pleasant faces I’d normally chat up in the mornings at Sprite’s gas station had morphed into angry protesters demanding justice.
Justice for who? Jesse? Wolfheart? It was impossible to tell anymore. It looked to me like everyone was just plain mad at the world. The only solace I had was knowing Robin and her kids were at Lake Osprey, safe and sound. Headstrong as ever, she’d hired a crime scene cleaner, followed by a traditional house cleaner, and then she and Desi had taken a cloth and a mop to it themselves. Once the house was rid of any trace of the unwanted houseguest, she, Lenny, and Desi had set out with the young ones, intent on a day in the sun.
Lenny had grumbled about being stuck with the hens all day, but I suspected he was sitting back with a cold brew in his hands about now, soaking up the rays, clueless as to the chaos consuming his sleepy town.
As a loud crash echoed like a shot, I instinctively brought my hand to my gun belt. Turned out it was a couple of football players from Shady Gully High, revving up their four-wheel drive as they peeled out of Sprite’s gas station.
When I feasted my eyes on the danged whippersnappers, they cackled, enjoying the way the antsy crowd tensed each time their vehicle backfired. I had half a mind to arrest the little riff-raffs.
Before I could move in their direction, the spinning beam on Meadow’s dome light cut into my peripheral vision. To keep her from driving straight into the mayhem, I flagged her down.
“What’s happened?” Meadow swiveled around a box of bulky packages and mail.
“Just park and leave your car. Bella’s at the auto body shop with Luke. Why don’t you head over there?” When she seemed reluctant, I added with more bravado than I felt, “We’ll get this resolved shortly.” Shortly was optimistic, but my tone sounded confident enough to get her moving.
A loud wail drew my attention to the center of the brawl, where Jesse had just clobbered Redflyer with a baseball bat. I watched as the giant man crumpled to the ground, blood dripping down his ears. His dazed condition triggered raised threats from several of his pals, including Moonpipe and Youngdeer.
Redflyer, tough enough to rally from the crippling strike, grabbed his switchblade and got in a few well-aimed flicks at Jesse’s ankles.
While I only saw a little blood, Jesse hollered like an IED blew his leg off.
Naturally, this set the likes of Big Al and Thaddeus into motion, and as the two forces collided, Max rushed me in a panic. “This is bad.”
“Good observation.” I watched as James attempted to calm the group around his brother, but Thaddeus wasn’t having it, and when he shoved Youngdeer squarely into Moonpipe, they tumbled into a heap on the ground. “Everybody’s going crazy.”
When a young man who normally passed the collection bucket at church whizzed past me, I latched onto his hair. “Stay where you are, son.”
The kid frowned at me, clearly disappointed he’d been denied a role in the brawl.
I turned to Max. “I think it’s time we make some arrests.”
Max brushed his hand along his gun.
“No, knucklehead. Just go get the handcuffs.”
“The Fed Ex box? There aren’t really—”
“Max,” I glowered. “Just go get as many as we have.”
I tugged at the little tithe collector’s hair once more, piercing him with my evil eye. “Go home.” I sent him off with a strawberry taffy, watching until the mutt disappeared past the Cozy Corner.
I surveyed the crowd again, settling on the window of the auto body shop. Once I caught Luke’s eye, I beckoned him over. As Meadow and Bella appeared to be in a heated argument, he made his way reluctantly.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the little scoundrel, Fireman, full of fire and intent, slip out the side door of the auto body shop.
“Great,” I muttered to no one in particular. “I got unattended kids all over the place.”
“Sheriff,” Max approached, handing me a bullhorn. “Quietdove and I are all set.”
I switched on the horn. And whistled as loud as I could. The high-pitched shriek resounded throughout the four way stop, and for a moment, I had everyone’s attention. “Salutations, one and all.”
Luke plowed through the throng to stand beside me. “What do you want me to do?”
I ignored him. “Here’s how this is gonna go down,” I said into the bullhorn. “My crackerjack deputies over there got a box full of handcuffs with your names on ’em. They’re brand spanking new, and shiny as all get out. This nonsense stops now. You will desist. Are y’all hearing me? Anybody who aggravates me for any reason whatsoever gets a free night in my jail.”
“No fair,” muttered someone from Jesse’s tribe. “This ain’t justice. You can’t stop us from expressing our first amendment rights.”
“Oh, cut the crap,” I said, climbing atop a bench in front of the station. “This is Shady Gully. Once someone gets injured in my town, that first amendment ship don’t sail anymore. Jesse, lay that bat down right now.” I glanced toward Redflyer’s people. “And I know y’all got some blades. Lay ’em down. Come on, now. We need to get the injured looked at.”
Begrudgingly, some of the Creeks slowly emptied their pockets, while Jesse dawdled, drawing squiggly lines in the dirt with his bat.” James nudged his brother, encouraging him to follow my order. But Jesse remained belligerent.
“Max,” I said. “Handcuff Brother Jesse, will ya? And if he resists, pepper spray him.”
A few lookee-loos on the outer perimeters of the milieu got the message and started shuffling home to their recliners and refrigerators, while Redflyer managed to sit up with the help of a few of his comrades.
“The longer I gotta wait to get my medics in here, the more aggravated I’m gonna get.” I glared at Jesse. “You ever been pepper sprayed, Jesse? It’s a dandy, let me tell ya. Not only do your eyes burn like the dickens, but the membranes in your nose and throat swell up. And there’s this nasty nasal discharge—”
When Jesse tossed the bat to the ground, it ricocheted off Youngdeer’s foot. A long, tense moment passed as the two sized each other up. Max, impressively, nicked the bat and handcuffed Jesse, preventing another confrontation.
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Taking his cue, Quietdove strolled over to the Creeks, dangling his own set of cuffs in warning. I turned to Luke, who hadn’t moved an inch since I’d started talking. “You can breathe now,” I told him, handing him the bullhorn, urging him onto the bench. “You’re turn.”
“What? What do you want me to do?”
“Relax, kid. I don’t want you to arrest anybody. I’m giving you your chance. Talk to ’em.”
While Max and Quietdove prowled among the crowd, checking for weapons and injuries, Luke tapped awkwardly on the bullhorn. “H-h-hello? Testing. One. Two. Three. Four—”
Charlie Wayne, who’d remained on the periphery of the action, rolled his eyes. “Giddy up, Luke. We ain’t got all day.”
“I…uh…I’m glad nobody is seriously hurt.”
“Speak for yourself,” Redflyer remarked, as Quietdove handed him gauze for his head.
“I have some flyers—”
“I’m outta here,” muttered an old man everyone called Chester, who stood next to Claire. “Ain’t nothin’ on those flyers I care about.”
“Max,” I asked. “You get a chance to check Chester out yet? Make sure he’s not suffering any ill-effects from all the excitement?”
“Not yet,” Max quipped.
I eyed the ornery old coot. “You’ll stay until my deputy sets his eyes on you.”
Sprite shrugged. “Luke, you’re a stand-up guy. We’re just not feeling incorporation. We like things the way they are.”
“Of course you do, Sprite,” said BlueJay, an amiable, soft-spoken old timer who lived across the creek. “That’s ’cause things are workin’ out pretty good for everyone on your side of the creek.”
The gathering pivoted as one, shocked by the usually reserved BlueJay’s remark.
Encouraged, Luke nodded. “I believe today was a result of the growing frustration in Shady Gully—”
“What about the creek?” pressed Moonpipe.
“The creek is Shady Gully. I want to make that clear. For too long we’ve treated the creek, and the residents there, as separate. You are part of Shady Gully. You, and the creek, and its citizens, all matter. You have the same rights as everybody else.”