Death of a Wandering Wolf

by Julia Buckley

  Soon enough we were established in his apartment and I was letting the cats out to roam the new terrain. I freed them from their ruffs (I had captured them in many a digital photo) and they ran out of the room, lynx footed and wide-eyed.

  Erik switched on some lamps and said, “I never got to look at your notes. Do you mind if I look at those now?”

  “Go ahead. We also never got to eat, so I’m going to explore your pantry. The most important question is, do you have paprika?”

  He grinned. “I do. I bought it right after I ate at your house that first time.”

  “The day you kissed me, you mean?”

  “Yeah. I was in the first stage of Hungarian fascination.”

  I lunged at him and gave him a resounding kiss. “You’ll never escape. I am Vadleány, the Forest Girl, and you are under my spell.”

  “Truer words were never spoken. Now let me read.”

  I went into his kitchen. The Pálinka I had brought him was on the counter beside his refrigerator, and my printed fairy tale was stuck to the fridge with a magnet. I grinned.

  I opened the stainless steel door and found some sausage, which I took out, as well as an onion, a cabbage (he really had bought Hungarian ingredients!), and some sour cream. Then I rooted around in his cabinets for some dry pasta. I would make sausage with a side of háluska.

  Relieved to have a plan, I busied myself at his spare counter, chopping onion and cabbage and boiling water for noodles. As I worked, I thought of the man in the parking lot. He had said he was my boyfriend.

  I thought of Will Kodaly, smiling at me with his handsome, crinkly face. He had been warning someone, perhaps warning everyone—maybe even me. The man had dark intentions, and Will Kodaly probably couldn’t prove it, so he painted it. I couldn’t prove it, but I felt it.

  Erik Wolf, though, was different—he would find a way to the truth.

  * * *

  Half an hour later, Wolf was digging into the food with his usual enthusiasm. “Delicious. Who knew noodles could taste like this?”

  I shrugged. “I did. I grew up on that stuff.”

  He shoveled another forkful into his mouth. “These are good.” He held up a finger and finished chewing. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to talk with my mouth full.” He pointed at the notes. “These are good. You have a very organized mind.” This organization had won me points with him, clearly.

  He jotted something on his own pad, and said, “Okay, logistics: do you have an event tomorrow?”

  I shook my head. “No. Not for the next two days. Mom and Grandma like to go to mass on All Souls’ Day, and then they just scheduled in a little free day before the holiday stuff begins.”

  “Good. That works out well. I already asked Runa if you can stay with her in the morning, and then Domo said he’ll take you in the afternoon. Thyra will mind the store.”

  “You talked to Domo?” This was half irritating, half pleasing. My boyfriend and my brother, talking on the phone. “When did you do that?”

  Erik shrugged. “Earlier today. He understands what’s going on; he asked how he could help. He has the advantage of being able to work from home sometimes, and he’s ready to make himself available indefinitely.”

  “Okay. Thanks. I hate to be shuttled around like a piece of furniture, but I know everyone is just trying to help.”

  “To keep you alive,” he said. “Because they love you.”

  “They?” I stood up and moved closer to him. He stood up, too.

  “Yes, they. They and I.”

  My arms slid over his shoulders. “You never told me what that Hungarian phrase meant. The one you said in the car before our ill-fated dance.”

  His lip curled. “I can’t believe I know a Hungarian phrase that you don’t.”

  “Say it again.”

  “Te gyönyörű vagy.”

  “And that means?”

  His hands slipped into my hair. “It means ‘You are beautiful.’”

  “Ah.”

  “Come, let me give you a tour of the apartment.”

  Laughter bubbled out of me. “I’ve already seen it.”

  “Just a tour of one room, then.”

  “Should we clean up the—?”

  “We can come back. This is urgent.” He took my hand and strode out of the kitchen, tugging me along behind him. For that moment, I forgot everything: Kodaly, the dance, the painting, the woman in Keszthely. I saw nothing but Erik Wolf, tall and blond, leading me into his bedroom.

  Later that night I lay sleepless in his arms, listening to distant thunder and thinking of the dragon my grandmother had seen when she looked at Thyra’s tea leaves. Like the fairies I had introduced to Erik a month earlier, the dragon had a certain duality in Hungarian lore. It was often the traditional reptilian beast found in many mythologies, but it could morph into a person, as well; and sometimes the dragon was a sign of change. In any case, people in the old myths knew that trouble was coming when they heard thunder, since this was understood to be dragons fighting above the clouds.

  I rested my head against Erik’s chest, soothed by his rhythmic breathing but fearful that the metaphorical thunder had already begun.

  Right now we could only hear the rumbling, but that didn’t change the reality of the sárkány.

  The dragons were coming.

  Chapter 15

  A Tale of Two Spirits

  Runa’s apartment was a surprise. I had pictured a rather sterile elegance—white walls and carpet with silver accents—but what I found, when she swung wide the door and hugged her brother, was cozy and inviting. She had a view of the lake and wide windows that filled the room with sun. Her vaulted ceiling gave a sense of space, and the cream-colored walls added warmth beneath an impressive array of art, from framed originals to woven tapestries. In the center of her living room a blue sofa sat across from two blue chairs, and between them was an amazing multicolored throw rug that looked as though it was worth more than the contents of all my bank accounts.

  Even more surprising were the two greyhounds who came wandering in like a pair of wayward deer; they thrust their thin noses into my hand and I bent to greet them. “That’s Lucy and Desi,” Runa said. “You don’t have to pay attention to them.”

  “They’re adorable,” I said.

  Erik touched my shoulder. “I have to go. I’ll pick you up at Domo’s tonight, okay?”

  I stood up to kiss him, and Runa watched unabashedly. Erik waved and disappeared down the hall. She said, “He’s my brother, and I’ve teased him all my life, but I know why the ladies love him.”

  “Ladies?” I asked.

  She nodded. “He’s had his fair share of interest. Since junior high.”

  “Ah.” This didn’t thrill me.

  “Anyway.” Runa looked distracted. “My home is your home. And help yourself to whatever you find to eat.”

  “I’m fine just now, thanks. I wouldn’t have pegged you as a dog person.”

  “No? What sort of person did you think I was?”

  That was a good question. How had I thought of her up until now? As one of a pair. As an exaggeration of beauty. As a cartoon. Then again, she had called me a Hungarian doll. “I don’t know. I guess we probably made assumptions about each other, based on nothing.”

  She shrugged elegant shoulders. “I guess. Well, maybe we’ll learn some things this morning.”

  I realized for the first time that she looked different. The other times I’d seen her, she was wearing makeup and fancy clothing. Today she wore a gray cotton shirt and jeans, along with a pair of colorful, patterned thick socks (Ulveflokk, I was guessing). She wore her hair in a simple braid, and her face was devoid of makeup. She looked about fifteen years old. She also looked vulnerable and sad.

  “Are you okay, Runa?”

  She plopped down on the blue couch, and
the dogs jumped up to join her. “Oh, you know. Hanging in there.”

  I hesitated, not sure what to say. I walked to a stone fireplace built into the wall. Above it hung a medieval-looking tapestry, bold with red and blue.

  She watched me. “Do you like it? An original Frida Hansen. I couldn’t believe my luck, when I found that.”

  “You collect art?”

  “Yeah. Since I was a kid in school taking art classes. I got my first original when I was eighteen. A Christmas present. Now I have a fair collection. I’ve got Andy interested, too. He loves Impressionism.”

  “That’s cool. So that’s how you ended up with a Kodaly, huh?”

  “Yeah. One of my favorites. Andy got it for me, actually.” Her face softened when she mentioned his name.

  “He seems really nice. I enjoyed meeting him.”

  “He is nice.” She picked up a blue and green pillow and fluffed it. “The first good man I’ve ever dated.”

  I sat down across from her on one of the blue chairs. It was outrageously comfortable. “You only dated bad men before him?” I was joking, but she didn’t smile.

  “Let’s just say I was looking for the wrong things. I met Andy at a party on the Columbia College campus, an art thing hosted by one of his students. From the first time he started talking to me I realized that he was interested in what I had to say. Not because I was pretty or because I owned a business, but because he thought I was intelligent.” She sniffed. “He still does. He sees inside me.”

  “That’s great. You’re a good couple, then.”

  She sighed. “I was planning to break up with him.”

  “What?”

  “This is how stupid I am. I was thinking we were too boring, too predictable. No better reason than that.”

  “Does he—”

  “No, he doesn’t know, but I think he suspects something is up.”

  “Well—it sounds like you don’t want to break up with him, Runa.”

  She was still holding the pillow in both arms, the way you would cradle a baby. “No, I really don’t.”

  I stared her down. “Then don’t. It’s that simple.”

  She put the pillow down and grabbed the snout of Lucy or Desi, then worked on cleaning something out of his/her eye. When she freed the dog, it stayed where it was, as though she had never touched it. It sat regarding her with a quiet worshipfulness. She finally said, “It is simple. And it’s not. Your grandma saw to that.”

  My eyes must have been huge. “My grandma? What—because of your reading? What did she say, anyway?”

  Runa met my gaze. There were tears in her eyes. “You want to know? Here’s what happened. She held my hand, and right away her eyes got big. She said, ‘Maybe I shouldn’t read the leaves today.’ I said no, no, I want to do it. That’s when she sent all of you away.”

  I thought of the way they had sat together, locked in conversation. “Was it something bad?” I asked, thinking of the dragon again. Of the dreadful, beating wings.

  “She said she felt two spirits. Two hearts. She said it meant that I’m pregnant.”

  “Oh, Runa! Did you—verify?”

  “Yes, as soon as I got home. The test says positive.” She looked at me with something like wonder. “Your grandma knew that I was pregnant, from holding my hand.” She wiped away a tear, and I moved across the carpet to sit by her side.

  “Are you happy about it?”

  She sighed. “I think so. I mean, I wasn’t planning a baby, but what she said—it just got me so excited. She said she feels a female spirit. A warrior, she said. A strong girl with hair flying out behind her. And I thought, a daughter.”

  Impulsively, I pulled her into a hug. “Oh, Runa! Congratulations!”

  To my surprise, she clung to me. “I don’t know what to do. I’m afraid.”

  I leaned back and wiped away another tear from her porcelain cheek. “Afraid of what? Telling Andy?”

  She shrugged. “That will be hard, too. We had agreed we didn’t want children. He may want to leave me.” She held up a hand. “I know I said I was going to break up with him, but I can’t. I love him.” She slumped back on the couch and shuddered out a sigh, as though this were terrible news.

  “That’s wonderful, Runa. He loves you, too. He told me so.”

  “What?”

  “I asked if he loved you, and he said yes. He said, ‘for my sins.’”

  Runa was not insulted by this. It made her grin. “Oh, Andy,” she said.

  “Runa. It sounds to me like you’re making problems where there are none. The pregnancy was a surprise, but you’re obviously thrilled about it. Andy is not a problem, because you’re in love with him. So why are you sad?”

  She took my hands in hers and studied my fingers. “I wonder if you have her gift, too? Erik hinted that you might. So do you feel anything, holding my hands?”

  I did, actually, but it was just a general tension flowing through her. Something was bothering her, had been bothering her since she spoke to my grandmother. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  She was still looking at my hands. “Your grandma says this little girl in me will have to be a warrior, because she has a fight ahead of her. She says she—is sick.”

  “Oh no.”

  “I don’t know what to do with this. You know what I learned, Hana? I learned when people start loving a child. It turns out it’s the moment they know the child exists. That’s when the love comes. I love her, and I’m afraid for her.”

  I gave her my no-nonsense look. “Runa. You haven’t even gone to the doctor. You haven’t even told Andy, or Thyra, I’m guessing.” She shook her head. “Take this a step at a time. Call Andy—ask him to come over. Tell him about it. There’s nothing you can’t work out together, and don’t you think he should have the chance to love the idea of her, too?”

  She stared at me with watery blue eyes, shaking her head. “You Gypsy women, I’m telling you.”

  “Don’t let my grandma hear you say Gypsy.”

  She giggled. Then she sighed. “I’m still sort of crying. You call Andy.”

  “What? No.”

  She grabbed her cell phone from a side table and handed it to me. “Speed dial one. Just ask him to come over. I’m afraid I’ll start bawling.”

  “Runa. I’ve only known you a short time, but I know this: you can do anything. I watched you take down an old Hungarian man and truss him like a sheep, then get him to practically thank you afterward.”

  She giggled, but her giggles soon transformed into tears. She buried her face in one of the greyhounds.

  I sighed and pressed speed dial one. “Professor Bell,” said Andy’s voice, sounding slightly bored.

  “Um—Andy? This is Hana Keller. We met yesterday—”

  “Yes, I know who you are, Hana. I’m glad to hear from you, although a bit surprised.”

  We both laughed awkwardly. I said, “Yes, well, I’m calling for Runa, actually.”

  Immediate concern. “Runa? Is she all right?”

  “Yes. And no. She needs to talk with you. Is there any way you could come over to her place? Soon?”

  He rustled some papers and tapped what sounded like a keyboard, perhaps checking a schedule. “I can be there in an hour. Will that be all right?”

  “Yes, okay. She’s fine, Andy, she’s sitting right here, but she’s had some really important news, and she needs you.”

  “Of course. I mean—is it her health?”

  “She’s fine. She’s healthy. But she needs you.”

  “I’ll be there in an hour. Hana?”

  “Yes.”

  He cleared his throat. “Just tell me up front. Is she going to end things with me? I’d rather know in advance.”

  “Not even close. You’re stuck with her.”

  His relief was so strong I could
feel it like a wave through the phone. “Okay, then. Thanks. Bye, Hana.” He ended the call, and I looked at Runa.

  “Your knight is on his way.”

  “Thank you.” Her face was dignified.

  “Now, if I may butt into your life once more, when are you going to tell your sister and brothers?”

  This ruffled her feathers. “Not before I tell my daughter’s father, certainly!”

  I patted her knee. “It sounds lovely, hearing you say ‘my daughter.’”

  The tears came again. “I know. I feel good, saying it out loud.”

  A troubling thought occurred to me. “Runa? They can’t tell the baby’s gender until about five months. There’s always the chance that my grandma is wrong. I mean, it’s not science, what she feels.”

  She leaned closer, studying me. “Have you ever known her to be wrong?”

  “No. But I only learned last month that she has an actual gift. We thought she was just eccentric. Or at least that’s what I thought. My mother has always known, I think, but she pretended it was nothing. It scares her.”

  “No kidding. It scared me, too, having her eyes read my soul that way. I just wanted her to tell me what a big success Ulveflokk would be. Instead she told me this. About my little warrior girl. Now—everything is different.”

  I understood that. The last month had shifted my perspective in many ways, and I knew how that subtle shift could change a life. For one thing, I couldn’t imagine my life without Erik Wolf in it.

  I slapped my legs. “Have you eaten today?”

  “Um, no. I don’t tend to eat until afternoon.”

  “You have to change that, of course.”

  Her blue eyes were wide. “Why?”

  “Because you’re pregnant. You’ll need to eat regular meals, and get prenatal vitamins from your doctor, and get lots and lots of rest.”

  “Oh no. How am I going to do that? I’m busy all the time.”

  “You’ll find a way. Your sister will help you. You can hire someone to pick up the slack. Your priority is your baby and your health. I’m going to make you some food.”