The Indians stared in their direction, and it was clear by their fidgeting and mumbling that most couldn’t see Polly. However, many of the children could see her and they smiled, waving at the ghost with excitement. Wolf and Polly dismounted Biscuit and a handful of boys led Wolf’s horse to the corral near the tree line as the Indian children swarmed Polly and Wolf.
“Come. We were just about to fish for lunch,” said a girl of eight, her long, silky black hair draped over her shoulder. She grabbed Wolf’s hand and asked, “Do you know how to use a bow and arrow?”
“Nope.”
“Yes you do, Wolf,” said Polly who was now walking at his side and holding the hand of a five-year-old Indian girl. “In Japan, you used a bow and arrow all the time, even when you were riding a horse.”
The girl who was holding Polly’s hand asked her directly, “Can you use the bow and arrow, Whispering Smoke?”
Polly told her that when she was in Japan, her father taught her to shoot a bow and arrow, but now, she couldn’t hold onto it. The Indian girl nodded her head in understanding and turned to the other children. “The girl knows how to use the bow, but she can’t do it now because…well, because…because she has no body.”
“The boy can use the arrow,” declared the girl who was holding Wolf’s hand, “he just needs to be reminded how.”
They reached the riverbank, and the girl handed Wolf a bow and a leather pouch full of arrows. A teenage boy came over to Wolf, and using his bow and arrows, demonstrated how to stand, where to place the bow, and how to use his fingers to draw and release. After only a few tries, Wolf was shooting arrows straight, hitting the targets across the river with great precision.
“Alright, he is ready. Time to fish!” Wolf’s trainer shouted.
Wolf watched as the boys pulled an arrow and some twine from their pouches. They knotted one end of the string near the feathers of the arrow, and tied the other end directly to their wooden bows. Wolf copied them, and eventually had his line attached.
When all the boys were ready, they stood side by side at the river’s edge and pulled on their drawstrings, staring intensely into the slow flowing water. Suddenly, arrows flew, blasting through the water’s surface, and when the strings went taut, each shooter grabbed the line and hauled in their catch. The boys dragged in golden-green cod, removing the arrows from their flesh and leaving them to gasp for air on the riverbank as they reset their arrows and prepared to catch more fish.
When at least thirty cod lay dead on the shoreline, one of the girls shouted, “Do not take more. That is enough to feed the village. Let us return.”
Each boy untied the string from his arrow and returned it to his pouch as the girls picked the fish off the rocks, dropping them into leather sacks.
When they entered the village, the elders greeted them and took the bags of fresh fish. They skewered them with long sticks and roasted them over an open fire, slowly rotating them until the scaly skin charred and crisped, and when the fish were cooked, everyone sat on the ground and ate codfish, sweet potatoes, and corn, and drank mint tea sweetened with wild honey. For dessert, they enjoyed pine nuts, pumpkin seeds, and red berries, and the whole time, Polly wished she could eat, too, but felt content as the interested toddlers engaged with her, stroking her cheeks, holding her hands, and pulling on her hair with their small fingers.
After their lunch, when the sun began to disappear above the treetops, Wolf knew it was time to go home. He also knew that he wouldn’t be in trouble for being late because time didn’t pass in the same way when he was out exploring with Biscuit. For some mysterious reason, the long hours he was away riding his horse were shorter back at home, so he knew he’d be home by noon.
“We must go now,” Wolf said, standing up.
All of the Indians rose, and the chief presented headdresses to Wolf and Polly. He gave Wolf a headdress with a single red feather, and Polly one with a single yellow feather. Wolf thanked him, promising they would visit again, and he and Polly mounted Biscuit, waving goodbye as they left the village and returned home.
When they arrived at Wolf’s house, they slid off the horse and removed the saddle and reins, setting them on the ground next to the fence.
“Go and relax in the meadow,” Wolf told Biscuit, patting his back flank.
Wolf took off his headdress and grabbed Polly’s, too, and they walked into the kitchen.
“Wolf, what would you like for lunch?” his mum asked as she placed the top crust on a homemade meat pie.
“Um, can I have a cheese and vegemite sandwich please?”
“Sure,” she said, opening the refrigerator. As she was bent over with her head inside the cool fridge, she asked, “By the way, where did you find those feathers? They're beautiful!”
“In the yard,” Wolf replied.
“I’ve never seen feathers like that around here. I wonder what kind of bird they are from. Anyway, after you finish lunch, go to your karate training so you’re back in time for dinner.”
“Okay, Mum,” Wolf responded, his dimples cutting into his lightly freckled cheeks.
Chapter Twenty
Wolf and Aaron had become great friends since their first encounter two years earlier in the kitchen. Since that day, they had spent a lot of time together, and when they were arranging to meet up, Wolf had to remember to think about time differently so that he didn’t get frustrated waiting for the ant.
Now eight years old, Wolf understood that even though ants moved hyper-fast, their tiny legs didn’t cover the same distance in the same amount of time as a human, so Aaron was always late. To try and solve this dilemma, Wolf used a stopwatch from Mum’s desk and timed his and Aaron’s movements between locations, penciling them down on wide-lined paper. He clicked the stopwatch, capturing how long it took for him to walk from the clothesline and then to Carla’s kennel, and he clocked Aaron zipping along the same path. Next, they each took the same route from the kitchen door to the entrance of the shed, and Wolf again jotted down their travel time. After he collected the data, Polly tried to help him figure out what it all meant, however, they couldn’t figure out the exact math, so they concluded that it simply took an ant longer to travel the same distance as a human boy, and based on their results, Wolf decided to always wait fifteen minutes before leaving his house. Even with that, he was still early most of the time.
“Sorry I’m late, mate. I ran,” Aaron gasped, pressing his claws against his abdomen, slowing his breathing. “I thought I’d be here on time, but it took me a lot longer because, as you know, my legs are tiny compared to yours. If I were your size, I’d crush you in a race,” he bragged.
“Polly and I will have to review our time studies. Oh, time studies! Polly taught me that. I sound smart, like Miss,” he beamed.
When Aaron was finally breathing normally, he stood upright and pointed with his claw at two pieces of stacked wood. “So, is this why we’re meeting?”
“Yep. I made you a train,” Wolf said.
Earlier that week, Wolf had gotten permission from his dad to use pieces of scrap wood from beside the shed so he could build a train for the ants. He took two pieces of cut pine and stacked them on top of each other, gluing them together with Elmer’s. On the top deck of his wooden train, he hammered nails half-way in so their tops stuck out, creating eight poles for his passengers to hang on to when they hit bumps or made sharp turns. And lastly, he added one more nail at the front where he attached a piece of orange string to pull the train.
“Bloody beauty, mate,” said Aaron. “I can’t wait to go on some exotic trips. We can go to Kenya, and Japan, and London…oh, and even California!”
“Um, those places are probably too far away, but I can take you to Mum’s garden if you want?”
“Righto,” he said, grinning with dazzling white teeth. “Can I invite some friends?”
“Sure, there’s plenty of room. But, two nails…I mean two train poles…are already taken for a few of my other friends.”
&n
bsp; “No worries. What time are we departing?”
“I’ll pick you up in front of your house in thirty minutes. And, only one hundred ants, okay? We need to keep the train safe, so I want everyone to have a pole to hang on to in case of any turbulence. Oh, turbulence! Another good word.”
“Okay, see you soon,” Wolf heard Aaron yell as he scurried off, crisscrossing between blades of grass.
As Wolf passed the aviary, he heard Cecelia, the crimson rosella, say cheerfully, “Hello, Wolf.”
“Hi, Cecelia.”
“What are you up to today?” she asked, her lower beak curved up towards her purple chin feathers.
“Just taking my friends on a train ride.”
“Be careful, and make sure no one gets hurt. I know I’m not your mother, but I want you to be careful. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Thanks. We’ll be right.”
As he stood next to the aviary, he saw Korey crawling down a gum tree near the back fence, so Wolf left the birdhouse and went over to the tree to see what the koala was doing.
“How ya going?” Wolf asked.
“I’m hungry. How ‘bout you make me a chip sandwich?” he said, sitting his furry backside on the ground and leaning forward on his front paws, awaiting Wolf’s response.
“Not now. I can’t. I’m taking some of the guys for a ride on the train.”
“Okay, I’ll come along,” he said, lifting his arms like a small child, expecting to be picked up.
“Nope, you’re not invited. You’re too big.”
“Okay. Just make my sandwich for takeaway. And, throw in a tinny.”
“No, Korey,” Wolf replied. “I’m busy. And, by the way, I’m never giving you a beer.”
“Tosser,” the koala mumbled as he turned and dug his claws into the trunk, clambering back up the gum tree.
Wolf shook his head and ran to his house. He went to the bathroom and grabbed Aquaman off the tile floor, then picked up three army-green, plastic soldiers from a bucket labeled Little Green Men Starter Set and carried them out into the yard, placing them in their assigned seats on the wooden train. He slid a nail up the fabric of Aquaman’s black briefs, holding him upright, and he slid the rigid, plastic soldiers onto another metal nail, attaching them through the space between their thighs and stacking them on top of each other. The soldier at the top of the heap was the captain, his hands permanently plastered to his hips, and the other two soldiers held rifles, peering through their scopes, ready to fire.
“Good to go, guys?” he questioned his friends.
Aquaman, with his canary yellow hair and Scandinavian features, nodded his head and winked as the three plastic soldiers hollered in unison, “Yes, sir!”
Wolf dragged the wooden blocks over the grass towards Aaron’s house. As fast as a blink, Polly appeared. Wolf could see the sky and clouds through her body as she skipped alongside the train, her feet never touching the ground.
When they arrived at Aaron’s house, his red cap stood out in the crowd. All the male ants, including Aaron, wore cargo shorts and tropical print shirts, and the females wore summer dresses with flower prints of lavender, pink, and pale yellow with matching bows tied around their antennae.
“All aboard!” Wolf cried out, and the ants piled onto the wooden train, greeting Aquaman and the soldiers as they passed.
Once all the ants were hanging on with at least one of their six claws, Wolf announced that they were ready to leave the station, and he began pulling the train by its string, the bottoms of his runners and the pressure of the wooden blocks matting the damp grass as he moved.
“Thanks again for taking me on a ride, Wolf,” Aaron yelled. “I’m not used to relaxing. My normal day is all about discipline and schedules.”
As they made their way across the yard, the tiny ants saw the world around them from a completely different perspective. Because they were always focused on their duties and their work, they never really slowed down to admire the world around them. So today as they rode on the train, tufts of dried grass looked more like huge, rotting forests, and the tall flowers that loomed overhead seemed like alien planets, the pollen floating like pale-yellow stars around their petals.
As Wolf parked the train at the edge of his mother’s garden, he saw Buford’s blue tongue and knew that the skink was in the garden and that the ants were in danger of being his lunch.
Wolf met Buford years ago, and during the early stages of their friendship, whenever Wolf tried to get close to the lizard, Buford slithered away. Eventually, the skink remained frozen in place when Wolf was nearby, yet no matter how nicely Wolf approached the lizard, as soon as he put his finger down and tried to touch him between his small, reptilian eyes, Buford hissed and attempted to bite him. On two occasions, Wolf wasn’t quick enough, and the lizard clamped down on his finger, pressing his flesh with his strong jaws and leaving a red, crescent pattern that caused Wolf’s finger to pulsate.
It took months for Wolf to gain Buford’s trust. He began his efforts to change the skink’s behavior by bringing him treats from home, like cooked potatoes from dinner, or cut up apples. After a few times of bringing Buford food, the skink began to slither over and munch whatever Wolf dropped onto the dirt, still hissing if Wolf got too close. Eventually, the lizard finally allowed Wolf to touch his head while he ate, and after several more weeks, Buford grew accustomed to Wolf’s presence and allowed the boy to pick him up. When Wolf held the skink, he would grab the thick lizard right behind his broad, triangular head, lift him off the ground, and lay the lizard with his back along his forearm. Wolf loved to examine his long, spindly toes, covered in tiny, leathery black bumps like a little dinosaur, or touch the pinkish-brown spots on his scaly belly, watching as the skink’s blue-violet tongue rhythmically tasted the air.
Over time, Buford confided in Wolf that he was often scared that he couldn’t protect himself because his legs were short and stumpy, and he wasn’t quick enough to escape housecats, dogs, and even eagles. Buford explained that the reason he opened his mouth wide and stuck out his blue tongue was to make his enemies think he was poisonous so they would leave him alone, and that he was terrified they would figure out he was powerless. Wolf empathized with Buford because Wolf also felt scared and powerless most of the time. Wolf even half-joked that if he ever stuck his tongue out at his father, he’d probably end up dead.
Now, standing outside the garden with a train full of ants, plastic soldiers, Aquaman, and Polly, Wolf could see Buford’s lightly banded body below a pink rose bush, patiently waiting to ambush the visitors.
Wolf went over to the skink and sat down next to him in the dirt. “Buford, go somewhere else, mate. These are my friends; not your lunch,” he said.
Buford’s blue tongue shot from his mouth as he stared intensely at the train. “Deelliiiccciousss” he hissed.
“Buford, I’m serious,” Wolf commanded, using his index finger to flick the lizard’s thick tail.
The skink turned his head quickly and opened his mouth wide, lunging at Wolf’s fingers.
“Knock it off!” Wolf said, pulling his hand away just in time to avoid a bite. “Now get lost. I mean it.”
Buford turned and stuck out his tongue one more time before sidling away, leaving a snake-like pattern in the soil where his belly dragged.
The train and its passengers continued to wait for Wolf to tell them they could disembark. When Wolf announced the coast was clear, the ants scurried off, forming a line with Aaron at the front as they marched onto the soft, wet dirt of the garden. The flowers were tall and cast shadowy lines and circles on the irrigated soil, and his mother’s coveted rose bushes were in full bloom, their yellow, red, white, and pink heads bursting like fireworks from the ends of their green stems. Polly sat down on a rock and Wolf set the soldiers next to her. Wolf leaned Aquaman against a small rock, the superhero's twinkling blue eyes staring off into the distance, as Aaron and the others began exploring in the garden, the moist ground sticki
ng to their hooked claws. The ants darted over dried leaves, crawled up hairy flower stems, and licked water beads from the petals. They even picked up round, organic fertilizer balls, at least four times their weight, and carried them on their heads to the train where they unloaded them onto the wood blocks, planning to transport them as cargo in case they might find a use for them in the future.
Suddenly, they heard a loud, thunderous buzzing overhead, and everyone stopped and looked up. Circling above them was a swarm of yellow and black striped potter wasps, their teardrop, raven-black eyes focused on the garden. The ants panicked and became disorganized, running in all directions, as the wasps suspended themselves in the air like helicopters, their legs dangling like thin ropes from their bodies.
As the wasps started flying towards them, their insect bodies slicing through the air in v- formation, the dead leaves and dirt below the ants started bubbling, and from below the soil, nutshell-brown coloured christmas beetles emerged. They flicked the dirt and debris from their wings and clumsily took flight, their bodies tilting and floating upwards as they became airborne.
It was no accident that the group of beetles had taken cover beneath the garden soil. Aaron had been working with the Scarab Security Force, or the S.S.F., for years. Because the ants and the beetles had allied, Aaron had the foresight to ask their captain, Christopher, to have his army on-site in case of any surprise attacks from predators. After some bargaining, Aaron and Christopher negotiated a deal that the S.S.F. would provide a brigade to protect the ants in exchange for decaying vegetables from the ants food locker. Luckily, the powerful beetles had arrived in advance, burying their tan-brown bodies underneath a top layer of dirt and fallen leaves, hiding their bodies from sight. Now in full defense tactical mode, the christmas beetles used their hard-shell wings and whacked the wasps, knocking them off-course and sending them somersaulting across the powder blue sky.
She Named Me Wolf Page 10