She turned on her husband. “You heard it. You heard the howling last night. Did that sound like a coyote to you?”
Roy’s eyes shifted uneasily. “How would I know? I’m a city boy. The only coyotes I ever hear are on Wild Kingdom.”
“All right,” Karyn persisted, “but that howling last night, that didn’t sound like any coyote on television… or any other place.”
“Maybe an owl,” Roy offered.
“Could be,” Gadak remarked, scratching his chin. “The woods has a lot of peculiar sounds at night. ’Specially for folks from the city. You’ll get used to it.”
“I doubt it,” Karyn said quietly. She walked around the car and got in.
Anton Gadak spoke to Roy in a confidential tone, but the words came clearly to Karyn through the open window. “I’ll ask around about your dog, Mr. Beatty, but I want to be honest with you. I think it’s gone for good. Take my word for it… that was a coyote your missus heard. They can tear up a small animal in a hurry when they get hold of one.”
Roy got in and turned the car back toward their house. Karyn kept her eyes straight ahead, but she could see Roy glancing over at her.
Without looking at him, she said in a firm voice, “It was no coyote.”
6
That night Roy did not even try to make love to Karyn. He stayed up long after she went to bed, working, he said. When he finally came silently into the bedroom he was careful not to wake her and immediately went to sleep.
The night after that Karyn wore her nightgown to bed. It broke a year’s long habit of sleeping in the nude. Roy came to bed late again and did not even notice.
The next morning Roy acted especially cheerful, but obviously something was on his mind. After more than a year of marriage Karyn knew the man well enough to wait until he was ready to tell her about it. During his second cup of coffee he did.
“Uh, look, honey, something’s come up with the manuscripts I brought home.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve run into some problems that just can’t be solved without getting together with the writer. So it looks like I’m going to have to take a run into Los Angeles.”
“Today?”
“Well, yes, the sooner the better. You’ll be all right?”
“Of course.”
“Is there anything I can do for you before I go?”
“I’m not an invalid, Roy.”
“I hate to go, but it’s one of those things.”
Roy dabbed at his mouth and stood up, anxious to be on his way, but trying not to show it. He gathered up the manuscripts he said were giving him trouble and took them out to the car. Karyn walked out with him. She kissed him goodbye, then turned away and walked back to the house as he drove away. When she was back inside Karyn sat down and cried for twenty minutes.
Then, as abruptly as she had started, she stopped crying. She went into the bathroom and washed her face. A bleary, red-eyed image looked back at her from the mirror.
“You look like hell,” Karyn said. She soaked a cloth with cool water and patted her face with it.
“How do you expect me to look?” her image seemed to answer. “Sitting around the house in the middle of the woods with a husband who has turned into a stranger while trying to pretend there’s nothing the matter. How would anybody look?”
She took up a brush and began energetically stroking her hair. When her hair had achieved a shimmery golden glow Karyn went back into the living room and sat down in the chair by the window. She picked up a paperback novel.
After a little while Karyn tossed the book aside. She recognized a new emotion building in her. Anger. She had seethed inside since the other day when Roy and that so-called sheriff Anton Gadak had been so patronizing to her with their smug explanations of the howling. Coyote like hell! Owl my foot! Something else howled in the woods around Drago. Karyn decided suddenly that she was going to find out what.
She went into the bedroom and changed into jeans and a suede jacket. She put on a comfortable pair of moccasins and set off walking toward the village. When she reached Drago’s main street she was surprised to see that there were several people out walking. No one she recognized, but at least it was evidence that there were other people living here.
She looked over at the little shop run by Marcia Lura. Door closed and dark, curtain across the window as usual. She wondered how the woman could attract enough customers to keep the place open. Or maybe her real business was in the back room. Karyn grinned wickedly.
For that matter, nothing in Drago seemed to do much business. Karyn walked by the open door of a tavern. Inside a solitary customer sat at the bar with a glass of beer in front of him. He looked out at Karyn, his face expressionless.
She continued past the boarded-up theater with its empty marquee. A faded poster tacked behind a glassless frame advertised a motorcycle movie that must have been ten years old.
She crossed the street to Jolivet’s General Merchandise. At least there she could count on finding some life and a friendly face.
Oriole Jolivet bustled around the counter to greet her. The little woman wore a wide smile and her eyes twinkled behind the lenses of her glasses.
“Karyn, for gosh sakes, I about decided you’d up and left us.”
“Nothing like that,” Karyn said. “We’ve just been staying close to home.”
“You ever find your little dog?”
“No.”
“Aw, that’s too bad. Something like that can really get a person down. How’s Roy? Did he come in with you?”
“He had to go into Los Angeles today.”
“Oh. You come in for shoppin’ or for a visit?”
“For a visit, really, if I’m not taking you away from business.”
“That’ll be the day. You and me will have us a nice hen party. You’re not in any hurry, are you?”
“No, not really.”
“Good. I’ll put on a fresh pot of coffee. Do you play cards?”
“Roy and I play cribbage sometimes.”
“I don’t know that one,” Oriole said. “How about gin rummy?”
“I used to know how to play that,” Karyn said doubtfully, “but it’s been a long time.”
“Don’t worry, it’ll come back to you. Just like riding a bicycle.” Oriole started back around the counter and beckoned for Karyn to follow. “Come on out to the back. We’ll play for half a cent a point, okay? Cards are no fun unless you play for money.”
“Half a cent a point is fine,” Karyn said, laughing. “You’d better go easy on me, though. I only have about three dollars with me.”
“Shoot, I’ll trust you for anything over that.” Oriole laughed.
As she followed Oriole to the back room of the store, Karyn saw for the first time that Etienne Jolivet was standing silently off at one side of the counter. He gave her a faint smile and nodded. Karyn nodded back and wondered why the man made her uncomfortable.
In the cozy back room Oriole put a big pot of coffee on the stove and cleared off an old kitchen table for their game. She produced a worn deck of cards, a pad of paper, and a yellow stub of pencil.
“The first hand’ll be just for practice,” Oriole said, “so you can get the hang of it before we start playing for real.”
An hour later Karyn was down $2.80, and Oriole was enjoying herself immensely. Oriole was an aggressive player, if not overly shrewd.
Karyn’s mind was not on the game.
“You’ve lived here a long time, haven’t you, Oriole?” she asked as the other woman carefully added up the score of the last hand.
“All my life.”
“I was wondering…” Karyn hesitated, unsure how to proceed.
Oriole looked up and her bright little eyes met Karyn’s. “Anything at all you want to know about what goes on in Drago, I’m the one that can tell you. Not that all that much goes on here.”
Karyn smiled in agreement. “It’s not really town gossip I was after. I was just wondering… well,
for one thing, why aren’t there any pets in Drago? The sheriff said the people here didn’t keep many animals, but I haven’t seen a single dog or cat on the street.”
Oriole scratched thoughtfully at her nose. “Guess I never thought much about it. Let me see, there’s some people named Hemphill on the other side of town from you folks. They keep chickens. Used to, anyway.”
“That’s not quite what I meant,” Karyn said.
“Never cared much for dogs and cats myself,” Oriole said.
“Maybe when you’re out here closer to nature you don’t feel the need to have an animal in the house.”
“Maybe that’s it.” Oriole scooped up the cards and began to shuffle.
“Is there much wildlife in the woods around here?” Karyn asked, keeping it casual.
“We see deer sometimes. Raccoons. Chipmunks, squirrels. That’s about it.”
“Nothing… dangerous?”
“Lordy, no. If you start climbing the mountains you might run into rattlesnakes, but you won’t find them in the woods. It’s too cool and damp for rattlesnakes.”
“What about coyotes?”
“Well, now, I suppose there could be a coyote wander in through the pass once in a while. You get into the high desert just the other side of the mountains, and they got coyotes over there. Why?”
“I’ve heard something in the woods at night. Howling. You know Lady, our dog, has disappeared. I wondered if something out there could have got her. Maybe even a wolf?”
“Well, I don’t know nothing about wolves.” Oriole began dealing the cards, snapping each one firmly down on the table.
“I’d like to find out more,” Karyn persisted. “Is there a library? Somewhere I could get books?”
“Not in Drago. Nearest library’s over in Pinyon. If you want to call them, they’ll send your books over with the mail. Tell ‘em you know me and it’ll be all right.”
“Thanks, Oriole. If I can use your phone, I think I’ll do that right now.”
“In the middle of our game?”
“I’ll be right back. This business has been on my mind, and I’ll feel a lot better about it when I’ve at least done something.”
“Okay, help yourself. The phone’s out on the counter, next to the cash register. I’ll heat up the coffee.”
Through the operator, Karyn got the number of the library in Pinyon. The librarian there, a Mr. Upshaw, apparently had little to do to keep himself busy, and was eager to help Karyn find the kind of books she was looking for, and he said he’d be glad to send them over. They settled on The Wolf by L. David Mech, Never Cry Wolf by Farley Mowat, and World of the Wolf by Russell J. Rutter. All were of recent publication, and all dealt with the wolf in its natural state. For good measure, Karyn asked for the National Geographic book on North American mammals.
Karyn and Oriole played gin for another hour, during which Karyn lost another two dollars. Oriole cheerfully accepted an I.O.U. and said she hoped they could make their card game a regular thing. Karyn said she hoped so too––if she could afford it––but really was relieved to get away. Oriole Jolivet was cheerful company but she had hardly anything besides gin rummy to talk about.
Karyn took her time walking back to the house. Rationally she had given up hope of ever seeing Lady again. Still, sometimes she would start at a sudden sound from the woods, thinking it was the bark of a small dog. But it was always something else. Or nothing at all.
7
When Karyn came within sight of the house she was surprised to see the Galaxie already parked in front. She had expected Roy to prolong the trip to Los Angeles at least until dark. She was also surprised at her indifference to seeing him. It had never been like that before. Unconsciously she slowed her steps as she neared the house.
In their year of marriage Karyn had known only pleasure in being with Roy. Now after he had made excuses for leaving her, she found herself wishing he had stayed away longer. She walked on slowly toward the house.
Roy was moody and distant in his greeting. Since Karyn was not anxious to talk either, she did not press him. They ate an early dinner, preoccupied with their own thoughts. After dinner they sat apart in the living room and pretended to read.
They both started at the sudden crunch of automobile tires on the gravel outside. Roy shot Karyn a questioning look. She shook her head.
There was a knock at the door, and Roy crossed the room quickly to answer it.
Out on the small porch stood a woman carrying a shopping bag. She was tall and thin, with a bony, big-featured face. Her gray hair was indifferently cut; she wore a shapeless tweed suit and heavy-rimmed glasses. The woman smiled at Roy. She had a good smile that softened the lines of her face.
“Is this where Mrs. Beatty lives?”
Karyn moved in beside Roy. “I’m Karyn Beatty.”
The woman’s smile took in both of them. “Pleased to meet you. My name is Inez Polk. I live over in Pinyon and I happened to be in the library today while Al Upshaw was getting the books together for you.”
Roy turned to Karyn. “What books?”
“I called the library in Pinyon today from the Jolivets’,” Karyn explained quickly. She turned back to the thin woman.
“I was intrigued by your selection of books,” said Inez Polk, “so I offered to drive over here tonight and drop them off.”
“It was kind of you to take the trouble,” Karyn said.
“No trouble at all. I’m glad for the excuse to meet you. The fact is I get bored to death sometimes over in Pinyon. I teach English there to junior high school students who consider it just another dead language. I’ll grab any chance I get to talk to somebody new and interesting.”
Inez Polk looked from Karyn to Roy and back again. “If I’m interrupting something, please say so, I appreciate frankness.”
“You’re not interrupting a thing,” Karyn said. “Please come in. Can I get you a cup of coffee? Or a drink?”
“Have you any wine?”
“Burgundy?”
“A glass of burgundy would be nice.” Inez took the four books Karyn had asked for and stacked them on the low table in front of the sofa.
Roy leaned down and fanned the books so he could read the titles. He looked quizzically at Karyn. “Wolves?”
Karyn walked past him into the dining alcove, where she poured two glasses of wine from a decanter. “Yes, wolves,” she said shortly. “Would you like some wine, Roy?”
“No, thanks. I think I’ll get a little exercise. Take a walk before it gets dark.” Roy brushed Karyn’s cheek with his lips, said goodbye to Inez, and left the house hastily. Like a man set free, Karyn thought.
She carried the wine back into the living room and sat down on the sofa with Inez. In a very short time the two women were chatting warmly. Inez Polk was intelligent and witty, and shared a surprising number of Karyn’s interests and opinions. It had been a long time since Karyn had felt completely relaxed with a stranger. By the time she refilled the wineglasses they were fast friends.
“So what is it with you and the wolves?” Inez said, getting around to her reason for coming.
“You won’t laugh?”
“Try me,” Inez said. Her expression was dead serious.
Karyn told her about the howling in the woods, how it was far off at first, and quite close the night Lady had disappeared. She told Inez about Roy’s skepticism and the sheriff’s explanation that it was coyotes.
“And you think there’s a wolf out there?” Inez asked. “I don’t know. It sounded like a wolf to me. If that’s what got my dog, it had to be as big as a wolf. Lady was no fighter, but I don’t believe a coyote would attack her.”
“And nobody else has mentioned a wolf?”
“No.”
“Mm-hmm. Well, maybe there’s a clue in those books?” Both Karyn and Inez were quick scan readers. They divided the library books and went through them, and soon they had learned more about wolves than they really wanted to know.
From
the several species discussed they chose the gray, or timber wolf, Canis lupus, as the most likely. This wolf, they read, was the largest found in America––as big as five feet long, including eighteen inches of tail. Some huge specimens had been found in Canada weighing 175 pounds.
Wolves were fierce fighters and exceptionally intelligent, with a diet consisting primarily of smaller animals, but when hunting in packs they could pull down prey much larger than themselves.
The most significant fact the women found was that, except for a few hundred hanging on in the forests of northern Michigan, Minnesota, and Wisconsin, there were no wild wolves left in the United States.
“What do you think then, Inez? Could it have been a coyote I heard? Or an owl, for God’s sake?”
The thin woman was silent for a minute while she appeared to organize her thoughts. Finally she said, “No, it wasn’t any coyote. Or an owl, either.”
“Was it in my head, then?”
“No, you heard something, all right.”
Karyn studied the other woman for a moment. “You never did tell me why my ordering books about wolves brought you out here tonight. You have some idea what this is all about, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Inez said slowly. “I have an idea.”
“Well, come on, let’s hear it.”
“Let me tell you a little about myself first. I am thirty-nine years old, never been married, and live alone with my potted plants, which I do not talk to, no matter how great the temptation. Every summer I take a trip somewhere alone, meet nobody worth knowing, and come back alone. I read a lot and I have a good collection of classical records.”
The Howling Trilogy Page 5