The Amazing Wolf Boy

by Roxanne Smolen

  Dear God. I was in the trees during a storm.

  Lightning flashed again. I thrashed in spite of the pain. The ropes held.

  “Help,” I cried, but my lips were so smashed they wouldn’t let the word out.

  Thunder boomed. The clouds pulsed with electricity. In the light, I made out a house and a yard. With a sick dawning, I realized I was at Brittany’s. They’d hoisted me until I was even with her bedroom window. She only needed to glance outside to see my broken and bloodied body.

  I didn’t want her to find me like this. I struggled with new vigor, trying to pull my rain-slicked hands free. A grinding sensation in my left forearm stopped me. I remembered breaking my arm under the blows from Eff’s two-by-four.

  I stilled. I wasn’t getting out of this. The driving rain buffeted my body. Lightning flared all around. I smelled it in the air. I started to bawl like a baby, but the tears stung my eyes and my ribs grated every time I took a breath. Instead, I made myself small so the storm wouldn’t find me.

  I awoke to the sound of barking. Brittany’s dog, Haff, I assumed. My eye opened a bit. The air was gray. Early morning. I thought it was still sprinkling, but it might’ve been runoff from the trees.

  Cold, so cold. Shivers wracked my body, and with each shake, I ached worse. The dog kept barking. He was right beneath me.

  Then Brittany came out the back door. I groaned, wishing I were anywhere but there.

  “Oh, my God,” she said. “Oh, my God. Butt Crack, get out here.”

  The door slammed, and then her brother said, “Holy crap.”

  I guess I lost a little time. The next thing I knew, the ropes were jerking and I was swaying. The pain was so bad, I couldn’t help crying out.

  They lowered me to the ground. I flinched when my bare back touched the grass. Man, all I had on was my underwear. Why did everything happen to me? Excruciating heat gushed into my arms as I flexed my fingers. I heard whimpering. It sounded like my voice.

  “Call 9-1-1,” Brittany said.

  “No,” I said, surprised I could speak. “No hospital, no police.”

  “At least, let me get my mother. She’s a nurse. She can help.”

  “Please don’t.”

  I heard tears in her voice. “Why?”

  Because I’m different, I thought. Your mother won’t get me. She might have to call a veterinarian.

  “Secret,” I whispered. I was shaking so hard, I wasn’t sure she understood.

  “Get a blanket,” she cried in a squeaky voice.

  Butt Crack tore away. The next thing I knew, I was sitting up, and they were wrapping something warm and dry around my shoulders. The dog growled, foraging in the bushes.

  “My mother’s in the shower getting ready for work,” Brittany said, and I understood her to mean she couldn’t take me into the house.

  “The shack by the old well,” I said.

  “What shack?” she said, sounding both frightened and exasperated.

  “I know the one,” said Butt Crack.

  They got me to my feet. Movement made me nauseous, and if I’d had anything in my stomach, I might have barfed right there. Holding my breath, I shambled barefoot over the stick-strewn lawn. It took forever, but at last, I made it to the shack I’d seen the night I was patrolling the yard.

  Butt Crack stacked magazines and comics so I could sit on them. By the time I got inside, I tasted blood. I didn’t have enough strength to swallow, so I let it trickle down my lips.

  “Who did this to you?” Brittany knelt to tug the blanket around me.

  “Eff,” I said, “and friends.”

  “Oh, God. You’re bleeding.” Her voice quavered. She stood beside me. “I’m calling a doctor.”

  “No.” I latched onto her hand. My thoughts whirled. If you’re ever in trouble. Day or night. “Call Howard.”

  Her voice cracked. “Garage Sale Howard?”

  I thought I nodded, but I wasn’t sure.

  I must have lost a little more time, because I woke to someone lifting my eyelids. Howard’s face came into focus.

  I tried to smile. “Got any tea?”

  He looked grave. “You have to come to my house. It’s going to hurt.”

  I winced at a sharp pain in my ribs. “I know.”

  He helped me to stand, and I shuffled out of the shack. Rain drizzled onto my upturned face. Something important occurred to me.

  “My bike,” I panted. “I left my bike at the mall.”

  “We’ll get it. Don’t worry.” He ducked under my arm, supporting my weight.

  To my surprise, Brittany ducked under the other. I looked at her, and then at her little brother who stared back with wide eyes. A powerful mix of gratitude and shame grasped me, and I almost buckled.

  “Thanks,” I croaked, although I knew it would never be enough. Tears burned my eyes, and I fought to keep them out of my voice. “Don’t tell my uncle, okay?” I didn’t need more witnesses.

  “Got to,” Howard rumbled near my ear. “He’s my friend. And he’s been searching for you all night.”

  They didn’t take me through the yard like I expected, but through the trees to a clearing where Howard left his truck. There was a trail just wide enough to drive through. Maybe that was how Eff got me there unnoticed.

  I leaned against the side of the truck, thinking that if I could just stretch out in back, everything would be fine. But Howard pulled open the door with a creak and a rattle. He half-lifted half-pushed me into the cab and across the wide bench seat.

  Brittany got in beside me. The truck shuddered as she slammed the rusted door. Then she slipped her arm around me and cradled my head on her shoulder.

  It felt wonderful. It was almost worth the pain and misery just for that moment. I wished I could have paid it the attention it deserved, but I must have fallen asleep because after a time I heard her voice calling me as if from a dream.

  “Cody, wake up. It’s time for more tea.”

  She helped me lift my head and pressed a mug of warm liquid to my mouth. It burned my lips but soothed my throat. My stomach reached for it hungrily.

  “Thank you.” I laid back.

  “Do you need another blanket?” she asked.

  I realized I was in Howard’s house, recognized the smell of herbs and plants. I was on a couch with a pillow at my head and one of Howard’s hand-woven horse blankets draped over me.

  Beneath the blanket, I wore a jogging suit. It was dry and warm. I flashed to the first time I turned into a wolf and my father brought a fleecy jogging suit to the police station. This one wasn’t as thick, but it was just as comfortable.

  “No, I’m fine,” I murmured.

  “All right.” She sounded anxious. “You rest. I’ll be right here.”

  I wanted to thank her again, but it was starting to sound lame. Enough was enough. I fell asleep, my face turned toward her scent.

  I awoke to a soft patting on my cheeks. Moisture ran behind my ears. Brittany was cleaning my face. She dabbed my eyes and nose with something that smelled like cucumbers. I imagined her putting a salad into a blender and turning it into a tonic. It felt good, and I didn’t want her to stop, so I pretended I was still asleep. Slowly, she worked her way over my lips and down my chin.

  Somewhere far away, a door slammed.

  “Did you find it?” Howard asked.

  “It was still in the bike rack,” my uncle said. “The rain washed away the blood and most of the scent.”

  “What were you planning to do?” asked Howard. “Track them down and kill them?”

  Uncle Bob made a growling noise so full of anguish and rage I nearly opened my eyes with alarm. “They hung him in a tree,” he said.

  I tensed, almost resenting Brittany as she rinsed her rag in a bowl and continued patting my ears and neck.

  After a moment, Howard said, “The cool rain cleansed his wounds and kept the swelling down. The ropes held his arm in traction. I couldn’t have set the bone any better.”

  “Ar
e you saying they did him a favor?”

  “I’m saying the boy will heal. And your life with him is too rich to risk.”

  Brittany splashed her rag into her bowl, wringing it out, and then placed it like a compress on my forehead. She stood. It sounded like she walked toward the kitchen.

  “How’s his fever?” Howard asked.

  “He’s so hot,” she said. “Are you sure he doesn’t need a doctor?”

  “A fever means the body’s fighting back. It’s a good sign.”

  There was a pause, and then she asked, “Did you get Cody’s things?”

  “I did,” my uncle said. “His shoes were gone, probably wrapped around a power line somewhere. But his clothes were in a pile. I found this underneath them.”

  A bag rustled. My stomach plummeted. They found the snow globe. I hadn’t wanted her to know I bought it, hadn’t wanted her to find out what happened to her gift.

  Brittany made a sort of choking sound. Then she said in a thick voice, “Throw this away for me.”

  My mouth dropped, and tears blurred the slit of my eye. It sounded like she was trying not to laugh. She wasn’t pleased that I bought her a gift or disappointed that it was broken. She was amused.

  Glass clinked at the bottom of a trash bin. Humiliation heated my face and knotted my throat. What an idiot I’d been. Brittany would never want me to be anything more than a friend. I was a freak.

  The amazing wolf boy.

  THIRTEEN

  Night fell. No idea how I knew. Probably something to do with the pull of the moon. I woke a couple of times to see Uncle Bob dozing in a foldout chair. Brittany must have gone home. I couldn’t sense her.

  Once I woke drenched in sweat and shaking so bad I thought I’d gone into convulsions. Someone draped another blanket over me.

  By morning, both blankets were on the floor, and I was sprawled over Howard’s couch. I opened my eyes—both eyes, I was pleased to note. Sunlight drew hazy shadows across the ceiling. I took a careful breath. My ribs felt good.

  Green smells and birdsong drifted through the screen door in the kitchen. Someone clattered about out there, and after a moment, I recognized my uncle’s tuneless whistle. He came out carrying a couple of mugs.

  “Hey.” He smiled. “I brought you some tea. Think you can sit up?”

  “I’ll try.” With a grunt, I propped myself up on an elbow and swung my bare feet to the floor.

  “How’re you feeling?”

  “A bit shaky.” I reached for the mug, and sharp pain shot through my left arm. I grimaced and sucked in a shout.

  “Yeah, we had to tape that,” Uncle Bob said.

  Sure enough, when I pulled back my sleeve, white tape covered my forearm. I took the tea in my right hand. It was sweet and flowery and as clear as water—not the snake blood tea I had before.

  “So.” He sat on the metal chair across from me. “Who was it?”

  Embarrassment rose to my cheeks. “Football jocks. Felt like most of the team.” I had a vision of them crowding around me, faces eager, shoulders straining their shirts.

  “So many.” Uncle Bob frowned. “How’d they get the jump on you? Didn’t you know they were there?”

  “They came up in cars. Kind of blocked me in.”

  “Ah.” He nodded like he’d found a missing piece of puzzle.

  “Are you telling my parents?” I asked.

  He took a long sip of coffee. “Not unless you want me to.”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then don’t worry about it.”

  Someone knocked at the kitchen door. “Anyone home?” Brittany said in a hoarse whisper.

  “Come on in, Brit,” my uncle called.

  I ran my fingers through my hair. I picked up the blankets and bundled them on the couch. She came around the corner almost on tiptoe like she was expecting to find me on my death bed.

  Uncle Bob stood. “Morning. Have a seat. You want some coffee?”

  “Yes, please,” she mumbled. Her eyes never left me. “Wow, Cody. You look a lot better.”

  Then it struck me. I was better. Healing at an extraordinary rate. How to explain it?

  “Howard’s tea.” I shrugged. “It’s a Navajo thing.”

  She sank onto the chair. “He should market it.”

  I grinned. The thing about grinning is you use muscles all over your face, and I was aware of every one of them. It hurt worst around my ears.

  Brittany didn’t smile back. “I thought you were going to die. I hardly slept all night. So I rush over here and you’re…you’re…”

  “What?” Uncle Bob held out a cup of coffee. “You going to be mad at him because he’s feeling better?”

  “Of course not. It’s just that—”

  “We all heal fast. Runs in the family.” He jiggled the cup. “Two sugars, right?”

  “Oh.” She looked dazed. “Thank you.”

  I barely had time to reflect on how much Brittany and my uncle had bonded when Howard came down the hall. He smelled like he’d just gotten out of the shower, which made me aware of my own rank stench.

  “Good morning,” he boomed. “How is our young Mai-Coh today?”

  “I think he’s going to be all right,” Uncle Bob said as he slurped his coffee.

  “Let’s take a look.” Howard knelt and rested his large hand on my forehead. “Fever’s gone. Eyes are clear. Can you sit up straight?”

  He lifted my sweatshirt, and Brittany hissed through her teeth. A purple and black swath darkened my mid-section. Howard pressed gentle fingers over my side. “Take a breath. Deeper.” He smiled. “No creaks.”

  “That’s good, right?” I tugged my shirt in place.

  “Very good.” He got up and clapped my uncle on the back. “When a fox walks lame, the old rabbit jumps.” They strode to the kitchen.

  I looked at Brittany. “What does that mean?”

  She laughed her tinkling laugh. It made me feel lighter. Like she was magic.

  “Sorry I scared you,” I said. “I’m sorry about everything.”

  “You were quite a sight.”

  “How’s your brother?”

  “He was pretty shaken up. He stayed home the whole day.”

  I drank the cooling tea. “Do you think he’ll tell anybody?”

  “Well, he didn’t tell Grandpa. And he won’t tell our mom. No one tells her anything.”

  “Why not?”

  “She can’t take it. She works six days a week at Doctor Gutman’s, the pediatrician, from nine to three, and then at Palm West Hospital from three-thirty to midnight. It’s hard. On all of us.”

  I nodded. “Both my parents are doctors. I rarely saw them either.”

  “They must be rich.”

  “I guess. We used to go on these fantastic vacations. I’ve been all over the world.”

  “What’s your favorite place?”

  “Africa,” I said. “I’d love to go back.”

  She returned my smile, but her eyes were sad. I wished I could revise my answer.

  “I’m glad I’m here. And I’m glad you’re with me.”

  She glanced down, and then looked at me through her red swag of hair. Her face was pink.

  “Do you need a refill?” Uncle Bob held out a coffee pot.

  Brittany lifted her cup and he topped it off. “Mmmm,” she said. “I smell sausage.”

  “I thought you only ate health food,” he said with a smirk.

  “It’s my one vice.”

  “Only one? That’s good to know. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

  I cleared my throat, breaking into their conversation. “Do you think I could wash first?”

  “That’s a great idea,” he said. “Let me help you up.”

  Howard called from the kitchen, “He can use the guest toothbrush. It’s in a mug on the sink.”

  Brittany looked incredulous. “Guest toothbrush?”

  “Well,” Howard said. “They don’t know it’s used.”

  The thre
e of them laughed. I felt out of the loop.

  “It’s Sunday, right?” I said as Uncle Bob set me on my feet. “I haven’t been out of it for like a week or anything?”

  “No, nothing like that.” He put his arm about my waist and guided me down the hall. “It happened on Friday?”

  “I went to the mall. After school.”

  “From now on, don’t go that far away by yourself. I thought you were caught by… It doesn’t matter. You’re safe, now.”

  He waited until I latched onto the sink before he closed the door. I peered in the mirror. My face didn’t look as bad as I expected. My eyelids drooped a bit, and my lips had scabs. But my teeth were fine. In fact, they looked whiter than ever.

  I turned on the shower, and then started the strenuous task of taking off my clothes. My body was stiff and sore, but the only real pain was in my arm. The hot water spray felt amazing. I wanted to stand there for an hour. But I knew they were holding breakfast for me, so I washed and shampooed, groaning every time I reached for something, and got out as quickly as I could.

  A clean tee and some drawstring shorts lay folded on the corner of the sink. Someone had snuck them in. Refusing to use Howard’s community toothbrush, I swabbed my mouth with toothpaste on my finger. When I left the bathroom, I felt like a different person.

  I walked by myself down the hall and through the living room. Once in the kitchen, I was greeted by broad smiles.

  “There he is,” said Uncle Bob. “Sit down, boy.”

  “Hey, you really clean up nice,” said Brittany.

  “Hope you’re hungry.” Howard placed a plate of scrambled eggs, grits, and sausage before me.

  “Starved.” I felt like a kid on Christmas morning.

  Then Brittany reached over and patted my hand. In front of everybody. I knew she meant it in friendship, but I was so proud and so happy, I thought I would burst.

  “A hungry stomach makes a short prayer.” Howard served the other plates.

  We all dug in. For a few moments, we ate in silence. The food was delicious.

  “More coffee, anyone?” Howard stood and walked to the counter.

  “Me,” said Uncle Bob.

  “Of course, you. I meant anyone other than you. Brittany?”