Wolf! The Legend of Tom Sawyer's Island

by Nancy Temple Rodrigue

  A fog suddenly seemed to seep from the river, swirling with low, misty fingers. Ignored by the braves, the fog became thicker as they ran after the fleeing wolf. By the time they reached the Beaver Dam, they could no longer see across the river, had they cared to look. A sudden wind picked up, gusting past them in a swirl of leaves and dust.

  A flash of lightning and instantaneous thunder sounded around them. The wolf, seeing that he was rapidly approaching the unsteady Beaver Dam, quickly surmised that it was too new and rickety to run across. Swimming the beaver pond would expose him. He had forgotten that. He glanced at the lightning flashing around him and turned, snarling at the slowly approaching men.

  A bow was raised, but the Shaman gave a sharp command. “This one is mine!” As he raised his own bow, he quickly notched his longest arrow.

  The men were startled when a bolt struck the water and traveled straight toward them, a swirling vortex of black water appearing before it. The wolf snarled at them once more and bunched his legs to leap.

  The arrow was loosed at the same moment the wolf leaped towards the angry, agitated water. It struck the wolf directly through the heart and, twisting at the pain, he soundlessly fell on the riverbank.

  The lightning, the thunder, and the yawning blackness all vanished when the wolf fell. And just as suddenly, the wind settled as if it had never been.

  Unseeing and unmindful of the mysterious force of nature he had just witnessed, the Shaman had only one object in his mind. His knife in hand, he slowly approached the fallen, unmoving wolf. He could see the huge sides of the animal barely rise as it tried to catch its breath. Keeping a safe distance from the deadly claws and being mindful of the sharp canine teeth, the Shaman held the knife steady.

  As he neared the head, the eyes opened suddenly. In that flash, the Shaman saw the same piercing sapphire blue eyes he had seen in his infant son. Those eyes momentarily narrowed with cunning. “Doksa ake waunkte,” the wolf managed to whisper before his brilliant blue eyes rolled back into his head and the Shaman knew it was dead.

  Without a word to his wary men, he plunged in the knife and got to work skinning the huge animal, the words echoing through his mind: I will see you again later.

  As the years passed, the boy Sumanitu Taka grew as all boys do. He showed signs of early strength and agility. His father, proud of his tall, dark son, watched from beneath the wolf headdress and skin robe he always wore in honor and remembrance of his wife. Sumanitu Taka took the teasing of the other children over his bright blue eyes stoically and figured he must have them for a reason. He knew the story of his birth and the subsequent death of his mother. He also knew the story of the wolf skin robe his father wore. When he became taller and faster than the other boys, the teasing stopped. Except for his brother Mato. Named after the bear, Mato had strength of his own. But Wolf could still outrun him.

  One day, when the men were gone on a hunting foray into the forest, the boys were playing near the River. They had gathered near Bear Country, a favorite fishing hole for the forest animals. The boys were displaying their own talents as only boys can do. They would prance and preen as their namesake animal would, playfully challenging their playmates with their respective cries.

  Wolf easily leaped to the top of the nearest boulder and howled at his surrounding cousins. They called back at him and laughingly threw rocks that he easily dodged. At his next howl, however, the entire group of boys was startled to see an instant change in the weather. As a thick mist started to roll in, they could hear the sounds of a storm that was rapidly approaching, causing the boys to became silent and wary. None of them had ever seen storms come upon them like this. The season was not right.

  The storm came in more rapidly than they thought it should and the River quickly turned ugly and threatening. They backed away in fear as a swirling dark mass of water opened in front of them.

  Eyes wide, Wolf walked slowly toward the void, gazing into the blackness as if he was drawn to it. Rushing forward, Mato threw his arms around his brother, holding him tight and not letting him continue. Wolf struggled against his brother’s restraint, having an almost uncontrollable urge to throw himself into the water and allow it to envelope him completely.

  In a matter of moments, the swirling water seemed to fall in upon itself and recede. The wind buffeting against the boys died down and soon all was back to normal. Only then was Wolf able to relax in his brother’s arms. Without a word, Bear released him, eyes frowning, as they all hurried back to camp.

  In a private conversation with their father, Bear tried to explain exactly what had happened back there at Bear Country. His face half concealed by the wolf headdress, Bear could still see the expression on his father’s face as he went pale at the news.

  After Bear went to sleep that night, his father sat staring into the dying fire. Both he and his son were sure of one fact: if that strange phenomenon were ever to appear again, Wolf would go through it.

  Disneyland – 1966

  “Tell me, Doctor, do you speak French?”

  Dr. Houser’s eyebrows went up in surprise. That wasn’t what he was expecting. Actually, he had no idea what to expect when he had been summoned back to Disneyland, but his knowledge of languages certainly wouldn’t have been at the top of his list. “Yes, fluently, as a matter of fact. Why?” He looked over to Walt and then back to his friend, the Blond-Haired Man. They, too, seemed to be waiting for Wolf to continue. Getting no response from them, he turned back to the black-haired security guard who had asked him the odd question.

  It was dark out now, late in the evening. The white lights outlining the buildings on Main Street could be seen through the front window of Walt’s apartment, casting a festive glow on the somewhat somber men gathered inside. The doctor had been the last person to join the group when they reassembled in that private room. He had been confused as well as concerned by the call from the Blond-Haired Man who asked him to come right over, bring his medical bag, and—for some unknown reason—to dress in the oldest dark suit he owned. He had never before met this particular security guard and stood uneasily as the mysterious, silent man circled him after he had first arrived, apparently looking over his choice of clothing.

  There was a tension in the air that he could feel, and it was the doctor who broke the uneasy silence. “What’s going on? I was asked to bring my bag. I thought I was never supposed to do that. Are you ill, Walt?” He turned to his boss and chose to ignore the scrutiny he was receiving.

  Walt gave a sigh and looked away for a moment. How does one explain something like this? Walt always believed in being direct, so he figured he might as well follow that principle now. “Please take a seat, Claude. No, I’m fine. Well, I’m as fine as I can be right now. Actually, this has more to do with you right now than me. There was something stolen from me the last day you were here. Something very important to me.” He held up a hand to stop the protest he could see forming on the doctor’s face and gave a small smile. “No, no, I don’t mean to say that you took it. Not that at all. Just a second, here.” He opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a sheet of paper. “I was left this ransom note from the person who did take it. He demands a certain amount of money, which I am, well, not happy to give him, but will do so just to bring all of this to an end. You are involved because he demands that you personally make the exchange. He gave specific instructions on what was to be done and said to make sure that you weren’t being followed.”

  The doctor’s frown deepened as he sat back in his chair, thinking this over. “That’s odd. Why would he pick me? I’m not exactly well known here at the Park.”

  Shaking his head, Walt shrugged and made a wide gesture that took in the many windows on the walls. “We can only figure he has somehow been watching this room and has seen you come and go. Perhaps he has seen us go to the chamber. We don’t know. I hope not,” he mumbled more to himself, knowing what would happen if that hidden chamber and its contents were discovered. “What bothers me most is tha
t he threatened you,” Walt stressed, waving the note.

  “I’m not afraid for myself,” Dr. Houser asserted, unconsciously forming a fist.

  “We are,” stated his long-time friend, spreading his hands out in front of him. “We are dealing with an unknown here, Claude. We don’t know what he is capable of. We are very concerned for you and feel that you need Wolf’s protection. That’s why Mr. Wolford is here.”

  Turning in his chair to face the security guard he thought was still standing behind him, Claude was startled to find Wolf now standing over by the patio window. Seeing him stare out the window, arms folded, Claude thought he gave off the air of being either detached or disinterested in the ongoing discussion. Nor had he spoken since his odd opening question to the doctor. Claude wasn’t sure why the man was even here with his friends and colleagues and wanted no dealings with him. “No disrespect, Mr. Wolford, but I don’t need a bodyguard. We are probably just dealing with an unhappy employee who saw what he thought was a chance to make a quick buck.”

  Aware of the doctor’s veiled animosity toward him—his voice inflection and body language spoke that loud and clear—Wolf turned from his scrutiny of the patio. This has to be the place the blackmailer used, he was thinking. But, who? His contemplation interrupted, he turned his full attention to the room. He had heard every word. He just knew his participation hadn’t been needed until now. “We can’t take that chance, Doctor. Not with you. Not with Walt. There’s a lot at stake here. And,” he added, his gaze steady on Doctor Houser, “I’m not here to guard you. I’m here to take you to a safe place.”

  “Oh.” The doctor relaxed from his tense posture. That wasn’t what he expected to hear. He had been braced for a fight. “I assumed you meant you were going to follow me around or something. So, if I’m taken somewhere safe, who, then, will make the drop?”

  “I will,” Wolf stated. “I’ll use your overcoat and hat.” Knowing better than the others that they needed to get on with it, that time was quickly running out, he looked at Walt. “Do you want to tell him, or do you want me to?”

  “Tell me what?” The wary stance was back.

  “Where you’re going.”

  Three sets of eyes immediately turned to Walt. He took a deep breath. “I’ll tell him, from what I understand of the process. Claude, here’s the tricky part,” Walt started, coming over to the man and putting a concerned hand on his shoulder. “Since we don’t know who we are dealing with and what he is capable of doing, you need to be put in a place where he can’t possibly reach you. If he knows you well enough to name you in this here note, he could also know where you live and, more importantly, where you work. If he does know where you work and the nature of your specialty—and how it relates to me….” He paused a moment to let that sink in before continuing. “Wolf can put you in a place where even the FBI couldn’t find you if they tried. He assures me you will be perfectly safe. You just need an open mind….” Walt broke off, unsure of what exactly his mysterious security guard had in mind and what all was involved. He gave a pat on the doctor’s shoulder and began a nervous pacing of the room. “Wolf?”

  “Have you ever been to New Orleans, Doctor?”

  That, also, was unexpected. “Uh, no. Never got that far south. Is that where you intend on taking me?”

  “Yes,” Wolf replied slowly. “And no. Hopefully, with you being a scientific man, you can appreciate what I am about to tell you and see it as a possible adventure.”

  “Go on.” Claude sincerely doubted it, but would at least hear him out.

  “I have a…unique ability to move in a different way. We three have talked it over at length and feel it would be best if you could go to New Orleans until such time as I solve this mystery and know for a fact that both you and Walt are again safe.”

  “What do you mean by move in a different way?” he asked, his eyes narrowed. “Do you have a side job with Global Van Lines?” He tried to make it sound humorous, but there was no amusement in his eyes.

  Wolf didn’t give the doctor the satisfaction of a self-deprecating smile that indicated he realized how odd it all sounded so far. He simply ignored the last comment. “You will be going to New Orleans…only when you arrive you will find it will be around the year 1815 or 1816.”

  The expected stunned silence greeted them as Claude tried to work his mind around this preposterous statement from Wolf.

  “And we have to go tonight,” Wolf continued after a few silent seconds ticked by, glancing out of the window again. “I’m pretty sure the portal will be open tonight. The fog is already gathering over the River.” He didn’t mention how he felt the electricity along the back of his neck and the change forming deep inside his body.

  “And you expect me to both believe you and actually go…somewhere…with you?” He looked unbelievingly at the other two men in the room. There were limits to being considered good-natured. This was preposterous.

  Walt came back to the doctor and put a calming hand on his shoulder. “I know this is a lot to take in all of a sudden, Claude. But, we really feel, at this point, that you just need to trust us in this. I sure as heck don’t understand all of it, but I have seen evidence that Wolf has done this many times over the decades. I’ve known him for many years myself and I trust him implicitly. I’d like to try it myself, but he won’t let me!”

  Claude looked over at his silent friend. “And you? You believe this?”

  The blond head nodded slowly. “Our friend Wolf is a unique man. I trust him with my life. And yours. And Walt’s.” He paused and added, “You need to do this, Claude. We think it is the only way to assure your safety, as well as Walt’s future. You know what all’s at risk.”

  The doctor’s brown eyes turned to scrutinize Wolf, to see some flaw, something they must have overlooked to believe this wild assertion he had just made. Wolf’s unblinking blue eyes met his steadily. There was no deception in them. He believed every word he said.

  His heart pounding, Dr. Houser shook his head, unable to believe what he was about to ask. “Let’s just say, for the moment, that I agree to this…this.… What can I expect? What will happen to me?”

  The other two men again deferred to Wolf. There wasn’t any way they could answer those questions. In his quiet manner, Wolf replied, “I have already called for the portal to open.” He paused momentarily as the doctor frowned and looked at Walt’s white cradle telephone sitting on a side table. Letting that part of the explanation slide, he simply added, “I don’t know exactly how or why it works, but it just comes. There will be lightning and sometimes thunder and a strange bright light. The waters of the River will become very agitated. In the center of the water will be a sort of whirlpool. We need to go through that. You will not be harmed. You will be soaked, but not hurt. There will be a little disorientation. But, hopefully, that will clear up quickly.”

  “Hopefully?” There was a note of panic in the back of the doctor’s voice that he was trying desperately to conceal.

  Wolf gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I can’t tell you more. You haven’t made the transition before. There isn’t any way I could know how it will affect you personally. And, I will be there…in one form or another,” he mumbled with a covering cough, “so don’t worry. You won’t be going alone.”

  “Just for the sake of argument, how do you know we will end up in New Orleans at the time period you state?”

  “The location of the portal here determines the arrival point there. The projected date is just based on the years I have been there in the past. You will need these coins,” Wolf added, pulling out numerous gold and silver pieces from the pocket of his uniform. “They are from both Walt’s collection and my personal one. Your paper money, of course, would be worthless. And any coins you might have with the current date stamped on them would be awfully hard to explain. You might want Walt to hang onto your wallet, as well. You won’t be needing your driver’s license.”

  Claude stared at the various sizes of the coins in his h
and. Some of them looked more like silver doubloons than silver dollars. “You’re really serious about all this.”

  “When we come out on the other side, I want you to head for the steamship dock,” Wolf continued, ignoring the last remark. “That’s the side of the River you will need to be on.”

  “What’s on the other side?”

  “Fort Wilderness.”

  “Of course it is,” the doctor mumbled, rubbing his forehead. He was getting a pounding headache.

  Wolf went out on the patio and looked through the lattice paneling. The fog had already obscured Frontierland and was drifting toward them over the Jungle Cruise. Coming back inside, he told the doctor, “We really need to go.”

  Standing alone with the doctor at the edge of the River near the canoe dock, Wolf gave him a minute to watch the water as it foamed and turned in on itself. He wasn’t unsympathetic toward the doctor—he could smell the barely-concealed fear emanating from him—but now was the time for action. When the lightning streaked across the sky and began hitting the water, Wolf gave him a few last words of warning, and, hopefully, encouragement. “Keep a tight grip on your medical bag. As a doctor, you’ll fit into any situation. Remember to go to the French Quarter. I can find you there. Can you paddle a canoe?”

  Nodding mutely, the doctor, unable to tear his eyes away from the turmoil in front of him, still not believing what he was about to do, blindly grabbed the paddle held out to him and climbed to the forward seat.

  “Aim for the center of the River! Hold the bag and the top of the paddle together,” Wolf shouted over the roar of the wind. “Don’t lose your bag! Now, go!”

  Wolf pushed off from the dock and aimed the little canoe toward the swirling maelstrom.

  Unseen by the two men, a squawking flurry of white and feathers got caught in the vortex and the swan was swept in behind them as a final shower of blinding pink flashes faded from view.