by Cyle James
The young man reached out and stopped the paper with two of his fingers and pulled it back into place.
The three sat inaudibly as the waitress returned to the table with a platter of drinks, dropping off the young man’s tea and two glasses of water for the Tylers. When she departed Tusem was able to continue his inquest.
“You can start by telling me why you’re looking into the Sourmouth legend. It is a rather obscure portion of the Squamish people’s beliefs. I find it odd that tourists are so intrigued that they go out of their way to contact someone like me for answers. Your time must be better spent biking through the woods to catch sight of a deer or golfing on the back nine holes?”
“I’m a shit golfer,” Riley answered simply.
While he was appreciative of Tsitusem’s willingness to help them, Riley couldn’t help but be annoyed by the man’s abruptness. But in fear of scaring him off and losing what information that they might be able to glean from him he kept his feelings to himself.
“Before we go into why we want to know about it, perhaps it would be possible to hear what you have on it? It’s a bit touchy of a subject, and honestly we wouldn’t want you to run off because you think that we’re crazy,” Violet explained with a pained facial expression.
The man shook his head and made an annoyed facial expression. For a moment it looked like he was ready to collect his belongings and leave. It would have been awkward when the waitress returned with his food and he wasn’t there anymore.
“I can assure you that I am not just going to leave based on whatever it is that you tell me,” he tried to guarantee.
“Please. Indulge us?” Violet pleaded with her best puppy dog eyes.
Riley was a bit cross that she was pulling out the girly tricks. Perhaps a bit jealous. He wasn’t sure if Tusem was straight or gay, but he was handsome in a feminine male-model way. And while he didn’t think his wife went for that sort of thing, he couldn’t help but picture his flabby old body and feel inadequate by comparison.
“What do you want to know?” he asked as he picked up the first two pages of his collection.
“I don’t know. What do you have?” she solicited openly.
“I have what you already know about the Wolf Star and all of that lore. And I have something about ‘powerful words’,” he explained as he scanned his notes.
“We know all that,” Riley said, the impatience in his voice not very well hidden.
Tusem shrugged as he looked through his papers, trying to find something worth mentioning.
“I assume you know how Sourmouth came to being?”
Violet nodded, “Yeah, the whole trying to protect his family from the wolves. We’ve already been told by Island Bill”.
Tsitusem’s face changed abruptly in confusion as he plucked out a paper from his pile.
“From the wolves you say? I do not have anything that mentions it fighting off any wolves”.
“What do you have then?” Riley asked intrigued.
Tsitusem looked at them grimly, “I cannot say one way or another what other people have told you. But I can tell you about what I have been told by one of the elders of the tribe. Unfortunately he has passed on now so I am unable to follow up. But the one thing that he was unabashed about in his story is that Sourmouth was no protector. At least, not in the traditional heroic sense of the word”.
He sat back and took a long sip of his tea before continuing, “In the early 1700’s, Spanish voyagers would sometimes find themselves visiting the islands of British Columbia, exploring as they would be prone to do at the time. However on one fateful day, one small ship with a crew no larger than a dozen found themselves on what would one day become Bowen Island. This crew, it was not a crew of noble people who took to the high seas to pacify their sense of adventure. These were people who set forth with the intent to pillage whatever they could find. This crew landed and immediately took to their dastardly actions, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that if there were stars in the skies, they did not have good intentions for what had been created below in their honour”.
Tsitusem stopped to run his finger around the rim of his cup as he apparently contemplated stopping.
“Part of me is convinced that Sourmouth is just another legend told to children around the fires late at night. I like to think that I’m a sensible person and base my thoughts on science. But I, like many others of my people, have heard the stories about the wolf spirit and don’t want to entice it to pay me any attention in the off chance that it isn’t just a fable. But looking at the faces of the two dolts across from me, I doubt that you are going to ever find what little answers I could provide. And if we are being realistic, certainly Sourmouth can be nothing more than a story. Right?”
Riley could tell that the young man was trying to convince himself of something that Riley knew wasn’t true. Self-servingly he kept his mouth shut.
Tusem abruptly began to share what he knew, “In a single night the crew burned all of the native villages they could find for nothing more than their sick entertainment, to watch the flames lick at the night sky. They slaughtered all of the men that they could catch so that there was no one left to fight back, even if it would only be with spears and arrows. Some of the men escaped to the darkness of the woods and would return long after the crew departed, only to find their homes in ruin. The crew would go on to ravish both the women and the children without any concern to the hollow husks they left in their wake or whether their seed would spawn bastard children. The children born from this tragedy would then have their throats slit by the surviving village elders upon birth as to not infect what remained of the tribe with the evils of their fathers”.
Violet made a small gasping sound to even her surprise. For some reason the thought of what happened to the babies hit her particularly hard. Perhaps it was the mothering instinct she never got to express. She had once been contemplating having children with her husband, only for things to fall apart before they even got close to discussing the matter.
“This crew nearly extinguished an entire island for the mere fun of it, for the pleasure of it. It was not until the intervention of the Wolf Star did it stop. The Wolf in his imminent rage cast down a curse onto the ship captain, who swiftly became more than just a man, more than the evil that he had once been. This captain of Spanish heritage would become a wolf-man of godly lineage. He would become nothing but a tool, a weapon to the Wolf Star. With as much haste as the crew devastated the island, the wolf-man ripped apart his former company. Limbs were torn asunder; heads cleaved straight off with nothing more than a claw. By the time of the morning dawn, there was nothing left of the Spaniard crew but an empty ship, piles of decomposing corpses and pools of their filthy blood between them. The wolf-man would then vanish as quickly as he went to work, never to be seen by the surviving natives again. Over the coming century there would be other visitors, Spanish coming to locate their missing friends, English searching for new land. And each time they would be warded off, sometimes with nothing more than a whisper in the wind and other times with the slash of an unseen claw. It was not until settlers found a more...diplomatic way to work with the natives did the wolf-man finally sleep”.
Riley tensed up slightly as he mentioned, “So the captain was able to rape and murder and his punishment was to become an animal god who then got to just...rest? That doesn’t sound like he had to endure much of a penalty to me”.
Tsitusem shook his head as he took another sip of his tea, “Although the Wolf Star imbued impossible strength to the Spaniard, it was not as a blessing. The wolf-man is cursed to spend all eternity in physical agony, tortured for his crimes. His bones, every single one in his body, are said to break every night into millions of little pieces, only to fuse back together piece by piece. His skin is said to burn as if he were on fire, causing him to howl into the night in pain. When I say ‘sleep’ I don’t mean in our sense, like he slumbers in front of the haze of late night television. He merely is absent a m
ission. The wolf-man never gets to sleep or to even rest his eyes, as every time he tries he is struck with all of the memories and feelings of those who he caused to suffer. It is said that the man-wolf has gone quite mad. The Wolf Star and its weapon still keep an ever watching eye on this island. Although they do not have any invaders to ward off, they still like to keep their presence known from time to time. Even if it’s only an eerie howl in the cold winter wind...”
Riley looked over to his wife who looked on the verge of vomiting on the papers before her. She was unmistakably disturbed by the news of Sourmouth’s more violent history. He didn’t want to leave her thinking that Tusem’s version of the story was the definitive account of the truth, if the truth was even known.
“That’s quite the tale. Though, you have no idea if it’s actually true, right? This is just another story that we’ve heard. The hook man escapes from prison. The hook man is released from the asylum. The narrative changes from person to person to fit the situation,” Riley stated, his voice increasing in pace and baritone as the sentences went on.
Tusem forced a smile on his face and he shuffled his papers into a neat pile.
“Of course. I made no illusions as to this being the truth. This is simply what I was told when I requested stories from the elders. And if I might remind you, that you in turn requested this from me. I would appreciate it if you did not respond with such incredulity”.
Violet could see the tensions rising between the two men. And although she wanted to support her husband in the matter, she also saw value in the young man who knew far more about the creature and the community than they did.
“We’re sorry. You have to understand that all of this seems incredibly farfetched and frankly impossible. We’re having a hard time coming to terms with it,” she tried to say to calm things down.
Tsitusem silently stared at Violet, examining her face as much as her words.
The waitress came once more to the discomfortingly quiet table and placed their food on the now uncluttered surface. After glancing from face to face the young woman stepped back off to her position by the door.
“Might I ask...” Tusem started, “Why are you so concerned about the impossible? You do realize that this is all just speculative legend?”
Violet stared down at her plate, which held a single large bun about the size of a baby’s head, leaking of thick sauce with protruding strips of peameal bacon.
“What if it isn’t?” she asked cautiously as if suddenly the very thought might cause Tusem to get up and leave.
The young man didn’t respond.
Riley on the other hand was already shoveling pieces of pie in his mouth. The key lime was covered in a thick meringue and coconut cream topping while the peanut butter pie was smothered in a substantial amount of syrupy jam. The pies were sufficiently diabetes-inducing for his personal tastes.
“Are you trying to suggest that Sourmouth was real? As in, the wolf-man is something that once walked the earth?” the young man questioned with obvious disbelief.
With a mouthful of food Riley deadpan responded, “We would appreciate it if you did not respond with such incredulity...”
Tusem didn’t laugh.
Violet toyed with her food as she attempted an approach to picking up the bun without dropping everything to the plate.
“What I’m saying is that Sourmouth might still be here”.
She lifted up the sandwich and took a large mouthful, chunks of meaty sauce splashing to the plate below.
Tsitusem looked back from one Tyler to the other, trying to read their faces. He readjusted his watch on his wrist and made it a point that they could see as he squinted at the time as if it were some incredible task. He huffed and stood up, his folder pressed against his body as he picked up his plates in his free hand.
“I would complain about you two wasting my time but somehow I am doubtful that you would care,” he stated with clear infuriation in his no longer delicate tone.
Tusem started off towards the kitchen to most likely request a takeout container in order to leave the restaurant.
“We can prove it”.
It was Riley that yelled out across the floor of the Artisan Pie Company.
The young student halted in his stride, contemplating what the stranger was trying to tell him.
“We’re renting a place up at the lake. And in it is what you think is impossible. Just waiting for you. You wanted to document Squamish culture; we have the only opportunity that you’re ever going to get to come face to face with the oldest piece of your history that exists. All you need to do is come with us,” proposed Violet.
Tsitusem turned back and nearly dropped his folder to the ground in the move.
“After bringing me all the way to this island with nonsensical stories about a creature that could not possibly exist, you want to continue to waste my time by making me come to some secluded house in the mountains? If we are talking legends here, I have a sinking sensation that you are trying to steal my kidneys”.
“In all seriousness, you made the trip over here because you were curious about what we wanted from you about Sourmouth, which means that you’re as interested in it as we are. Now just imagine how you’re going to feel after you see what we have waiting for you. Hell, even if it’s only a quarter as spectacular as we’re playing this up as, I still think you’d walk away thrilled,” Riley said.
Tusem looked around the restaurant, mulling over whether it would be a smarter idea to just get his food to go and put the strange outsiders behind him. But after a few seconds he took his seat again in front of the pair.
“That sounds like an ominous threat, ‘what we have waiting for you’”.
Riley snorted, “I can’t say that it isn’t. But I can swear that we’re not what you have to worry about. Not in the slightest”.
Violet wiped a gob of grease from the corner of her mouth, “Are you in?”
Tsitusem looked back and forth between them once more, “I am...for the sake of science”.
Violet let out a sharp barking laugh that frightened the young man.
“Sorry...” she apologized, “...but it’s best that you leave your science behind”.
Chapter 14
The never-ending car ride to Killarney Lake seemed twice the length of the normal trip with Tsitusem sitting in the backseat. At one point the Tylers thought they were running over a rough patch of rubble on the road but guessed that it was probably just Tusem gritting his teeth. They attempted to make small talk but their guest was having none of it. Every question or comment from the couple was shot down with single word answers or grunts. For a man that seemed so beautiful and gentle he was rather a pain in the arse. Despite the fact that he was willing to make the trip to Poyam’s house, he wasn’t interested in discussing the situation further until he could lay his eyes on something tangible. And he certainly wasn’t interested in making any new friends.
On the trip the duo had lost track of the time. It couldn’t have been later than mid-afternoon and yet the skies were overcast with clouds. They dreaded the idea of some sort of storm approaching which would make sleeping in the car even more agonizing. Add the downpour of raindrops on the roof of a small tin can and the sleepless night would quickly become an escapade in torture.
At last the Tylers and their reluctant visitor arrived at the house, parking the car in the front by the mailbox.
“I hope that this lives up to your lofty expectations,” Riley said as he stepped out from the driver’s seat into the almost frigid air.
Tsitusem exited at the same time as Violet and looked around at their surroundings, apparently not impressed.
“I am going to have a body part on the black market, aren’t I?” he asked as he stared down at the ground, which had become a slopping mess as the moisture from the weather softened up the dirt below.
“Believe it or not, aside from the haunting bit this area is wonderful. It’s a great view. It has nice neighbours. And you
get to spot all sorts of animals running around at all times of the day,” Violet confessed as she walked towards the house. She was trying her best not to let it be seen, but on every step she had to fight her legs giving out underneath her. She was trying to remain calm for their guest, but inside she was readying to scamper away herself.
“That is where you are mistaken. I was raised in the city. All of this is beyond my level of comfort regardless of the cute and fluffy animals and the desktop screensaver view,” Tusem humbugged as he followed her along.
“Hey,” Riley said to draw the attention off his wife, “Do you notice anything weird?”
“Are you kidding? After everything that’s going on you have the chutzpah to ask me if I’ve noticed anything weird?”
“No, I don’t mean in general. I mean do you notice anything weird right this moment? As in around us?” he clarified as he craned his neck to look around.
Both Violet and Tusem examined the painting-like scene before them. The dark sky diluted the colours of the afternoon, the lake’s water thrashed about against the land and the breeze whipped through the trees and lashed the branches about. All seemed normal.
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at, babe,” Violet said with a cringe, looking to see if their city dwelling guest had any idea.
Tusem shrugged as he shivered in the cold draft that pushed by.
“Where are all of the animals?” Riley asked as he took a spin on his feet to look out once more.
Violet searched for any of the animals that she was so used to seeing by that point, but she couldn’t spot a single one. There were no birds chirping from the trees. There weren’t any small rodents scurrying about in the grass. There were no deer drinking their fill by the water. Killarney Lake was dead silent and utterly void of wildlife.
“Maybe...maybe it’s the rain that’s coming? I’ve read that animals can sense changes in air pressure or something. The animals are probably hiding so that they don’t get soaked or drown,” she tried to answer even though she didn’t believe the words that were coming out of her own mouth.