“I can still take you. I have a little time left before school starts,” Wolf said, mounting the bike seat and peddling towards home.
Chapter Thirty-One
“Did you hear something?” Wolf asked.
Cecelia, the crimson rosella, stood on her perch with her neck elongated, highlighting the electric purple feathers below her white beak. “Yes. I hear high-pitched sounds coming from the back of the birdhouse,” she replied, her red-feathered head bobbing as her obsidian eyes fixated on the back wall of the aviary.
Wolf ran out of the birdhouse. As he turned the corner, he saw Korey the koala lounging in a gum tree, his grey legs strewn over a branch, cooling his body. Wolf thought about going to the tree to say hello but decided to keep searching for what, or who, was making the high-pitched sound.
At the metal wall at the back of the birdhouse, Wolf looked down at the ground and saw a black ant standing upright. The ant was wearing a half-face helmet on his head and a camouflage military outfit, all six of its legs poking out of holes in the fabric. Wolf knew instantly that he was the leader of an Ant Reconnaissance Team, or A.R.T., as Aaron called them. Wolf lay down on his belly and listened to the single, tiny ant chirping and clicking sounds as his bulbous eyes scanned the area around him. Then, from underneath a pile of leaves, a group of fifty ants emerged. Each ant was wearing a camo top and pants, with goggles covering their eyes, a sunflower seed backpacks strapped to their backs, and their exoskeletons were painted green and brown.
The commanding ant turned and moved towards the back fence of the yard with his troop following close behind. All of the ants darted past plants, rocks, and pebbles, and scurried over dried leaves, and then the commander stopped and raised his two top legs, pointing at a tiny hole in the fence. He shrieked something into his microphone then disappeared through the hole in the wood, the rest of the ants following.
Wolf went to the fence and got down on his hands and knees, peering through a gap in the wooden slats. On the other side was a yard that looked vastly different from his; it had evenly trimmed green grass and flower beds of yellow, orange, and pink, and in the middle of the yard, there was an oak tree with long, leafy arms that created a perfect circle of shade on the ground below. There were also dense hedges lining the inside of the fence, with red and yellow rose bushes planted at precise locations to break the monotony of the green shrubs.
Wolf wanted desperately to explore the neighbor’s yard, so he walked along the wooden fence, pushing on the boards until he found one that was loose at the top, barely held in place with rusty nails. He removed a loose nail at the corner of the beam, leaving the other corner nail in place, and was able to swing the board to the side and crawl into the neighbor's yard. Once inside, he squatted in the dirt and hid behind the dense hedgerow, looking for the ants. While he searched, he heard the door to the neighbor’s house open and the sound of footsteps on a concrete path.
He squatted down and peered through the bushes, noticing a petite woman with silvery- grey hair carrying a basket of laundry towards a clothesline. She was wearing a lavender dress dotted with small, white flowers, and on her feet, she wore white ankle socks with black lace-up shoes, humming sweetly as she hung clothes on the line. She had her grey hair pulled into a tight bun that rested at the base of her neck, and Wolf thought she looked like Mrs. Santa Clause from the biscuit tin his mum put out each Christmas.
After a few minutes, the woman took the empty basket and returned to the house, shutting the door behind her, and Wolf resumed his search for the ants. As he crawled on the dirt, he came across the stem of a rose laying lifeless on the ground, and he snapped off a thorn, sticking it in the center of his forehead. The sweat on his face held the thorn in place above the bridge of his nose, and as he continued his search for the ants, he pretended he was a curious rhino called Rolf. Several minutes later, he found the tiny ants moving in a line, hustling back towards the hole in the fence that would take them back into Wolf’s yard. As they scurried, Wolf noticed they were balancing small, round white pellets above their heads. Even though Wolf didn’t know what the pellets were for, he didn’t dare ask because he knew that the special forces team wouldn’t want to share top-secret information or be distracted from their mission. Wolf followed the ants to the hole, and after they crawled through it, he found the loose, wooden beam and pushed it to the side, returning to his own backyard.
For days following that first adventure, Wolf continued to sneak into the neighbor’s yard, exploring behind their hedgerows.
One day, while crawling on the dirt, he saw a bright green caterpillar with tiger stripes rippling across a leaf. “G’day,’ Wolf said.
The caterpillar stopped and stood upright, its body the length of Wolf’s pinky finger, and Wolf saw that it had a flat, hairy face reminiscent of a walrus and short legs with tiny, hoofed feet lining each side of its body.
“Who are you?” the caterpillar asked, its voice gravelly.
“I’m Wolf. Who are you?”
“Casper,” replied the caterpillar. His minuscule black eyes tightened and he asked, “What are you doing crawling around here?”
“Exploring. I like it here.”
“Humph,” the caterpillar replied, undulating his body forward before stopping to chew on the edge of a green leaf. Suddenly, Wolf heard the metallic roar of a motor burst to life in the neighbor’s yard, so he peeked through the hedges to get a better look. As he watched, a white-haired man pushed a red lawnmower forward, the blades trimming the grass as he moved, then he stopped and turned off the motor. He walked away, returned with hedge trimmers, and started clipping the bushes along the fence, chopping the sides and tops, and getting closer to where Wolf was hiding. When the man was almost right in front of Wolf, Wolf popped his head out from between the hedges and yelled, “Boo!”
The old man jumped backwards, dropping the trimmers and placing his right hand on his chest, his blue eyes round as he stared at the boy. “What in the world! My, uh…wha…who the hell are you?” he asked, his words spoken with a foreign accent.
“I-I-I’m Wolf, sir.”
“What are you doing in my hedges?” grumbled the man, trying to catch his breath.
“I’m exploring, and talking to Casper, one of your caterpillars. I’ve been co-co-coming here since the day I followed the ants on their reconnaissance mission, and I hav-hav-haven’t done anything bad, like hurt your plants or anything.”
“Ants? Reconnaissance mission? Well, that sounds impressive.”
“They are an im-impressive bunch of guys,” Wolf replied confidently.
“Hum. So, how old are you, Wolf?” asked the neighbor, now breathing normally.
“Eight. Eight point five, actually.”
“Well, at your age, you should know better than to sneak up on people. You almost gave me a heart attack. Anyhow, I’m Mr. Schmidt. Walter Schmidt. It’s nice to meet you,” he said, sticking his hand through the hedges.
Wolf took the old man’s wrinkled, lightly calloused hand and shook it with vigor.
The screen door of the house opened, and the older woman who had been hanging laundry days earlier entered the yard carrying a tray with a pitcher, two clear glasses, and a plate of cookies. When she noticed her husband standing in front of Wolf, the boy’s face sticking out from the hedges, she said, “Walter, you didn’t tell me we had company.”
“Schatzi, I didn’t know we did. Wolf, I’d like you to meet my beautiful wife, Elsie Schmidt. Elsie, this is our neighbor, Wolf.”
“G’day,” Wolf said.
“Guten tag, Wolf,” she replied. “Will you join us for lemonade? Walter, help him out of those hedges,” the woman said, setting the tray on the wooden picnic table beneath the oak tree.
Mr. Schmidt reached over and grabbed Wolf under the armpits, lifting his light body over the top of the hedgerow and setting him down gently on the grass.
“Thanks,” Wolf smiled.
“Bitte. You’re welcome. Come and sit a
t the table.”
They sat down, and Wolf looked at the pitcher of lemonade and the plate of sugar cookies with pink icing.
“So, Wolf, you live next door, ja? I think I’ve seen you riding your bike.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, folding his hands in his lap.
“Glad to finally meet you,” she replied, her grey lashes highlighting her cornflower-blue eyes. “Einige haben. Have some,” she said, pushing the plate of cookies to within Wolf’s reach.
“Thanks!” Wolf exclaimed, grabbing a cookie. He took a big bite and asked, “Um, why do you sound different when you talk?”
“We’re from a country called Germany,” Mr. Schmidt answered. “Have you heard of it?”
“Yep. Polly has shown me pictures of castles there,” answered Wolf.
“I come from a small town called Heidelberg, and I met Elsie in a town on the Rhine river,” he said, squeezing his wife’s hand and looking at her affectionately. “We’ve been married for fifty-two years.”
“Wow, you’re old,” replied Wolf, wiping crumbs from the corners of his mouth.
Mrs. Schmidt muffled her laugh and said, “Ja, I guess we are. Compared to you, anyway. So, this Polly, she is your sister? Do you have other brothers and sisters?”
“No, Polly’s not my sister. She’s my best friend. And, I have one brother, Orville, but I only talk to him when Mum or Dad make me.”
Mr. Schmidt gave a sideways glance at his wife, leaning back slightly on the wooden bench. “How about your parents? What does your father do?”
“He builds things,” Wolf said, reaching out for a second cookie.
“Ah, construction. Maybe we can meet your parents? What do you say we walk you home after this and say hello?”
Wolf’s jaw dropped and the colour drained from his cheeks. “Please don’t do that,” he replied, lowering the volume of his voice. “I don’t want him to know I was over here. He won’t understand.”
In slow motion, Wolf returned his already bitten cookie to the plate, putting his hands on his thighs and rubbing his palms on his pant legs. “I’ll go now. Sorry I came into your yard,” he said, shifting his legs over the edge of the bench seat. “I won’t do it again.”
“Now don’t be silly, Wolf. You sit,” Mr. Schmidt said, his eyebrows pulled together, making the skin above his nose even more wrinkled. “If you don’t want us to walk you home today, we won’t. But won’t your parents wonder where you are?”
Wolf breathed faster now and his eyes grew moist. “No, um, they think I’m out playing. Please don’t tell them because I don’t think my dad likes neighbors, and if my dad finds out that I came into your yard, he’ll get really angry and I’ll get in trouble.”
“You mean he’ll ground you?” Mrs. Schmidt asked.
“No, worse,” replied Wolf, his voice rattling lightly. “Anyway, if you don’t want me to come here anymore, I won’t.”
“It’s okay, Wolf. We won’t say anything because we don’t want you to get in trouble,” Mrs. Schmidt said, moving to where Wolf sat and placing her hand on the crown of his head. “You can come in our yard anytime you want, and if you ever need to, you can talk to us, too,” she finished, her voice gentle.
Wolf could see Polly standing on the edge of the fence, waving at him to come back to his house.
Wolf took a deep breath and said, “Thanks for the cookies and lemonade, and for letting me come into your yard. I really like it here. You have good bugs. Anyway, I have to go home now.”
“Alright, young man,” Mr. Schmidt said, standing up. “How about you go home the proper way; through the front door?”
“If it’s okay with you, sir, I’d rather go through the fence. My dad won’t like that I’m over here, so I don’t want anyone to see me.”
“Okay, you can leave through the hedges, but be careful around those rose bushes.”
Polly now hovered just above the thin rail of the fence, moving her hand and signaling for him to come back, her green eyes wider than normal.
“Bye. And, thanks again for the cookies. They were scrum…scrum…um, delicious!” Wolf declared, walking briskly towards the hedges. He found an opening near a yellow rose bush and waved goodbye to the Schmidt’s before going behind the hedges and walking along the fence until he found the loose board, pushing the wooden beam to the side and stepping back into his yard.
“What’s so important, Polly?” he asked as she flew in front of his body, facing him.
“Your dad is on his way home. I can hear his car.”
“Oh, thanks,” he replied. “It’s early, so hopefully he hasn’t been drinking.”
When his dad pulled into the driveway, he opened the shed and parked his car inside. As his father walked towards the house, he saw Wolf petting Carla at her kennel. “Hey, kid,” he said before entering the house through the front door.
Since his dad used the front door, and since he parked his car inside the shed, Wolf was confident he was sober and felt relieved, rubbing Carla beneath her chin.
The next day, Wolf went back to the Schmidt’s yard through the loose piece of fence, and when he slipped through, he noticed a small, white cardboard box sitting directly on the dirt in front of the opening. He sat on the ground, staring at the box, and removed the lid. Inside the box, he found a stack of homemade chocolate chip cookies wrapped in red tissue. And, on the inner side of the box lid, someone had written the words, “For you, Wolf, because you’ll need extra energy while you’re exploring in our yard!’
His face and chest felt warm as he removed a cookie. He held it in his fingers, inspecting it as though it was something rare, as a wide smile spread across the bottom of his face and he took a bite.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Wolf strolled across the backyard with a playful grin on his face, pulling the old wooden train by its orange string, the train he’d built for the ants almost four years earlier. The wooden block hopped and wobbled on the surface of the grass as he searched the yard for Aaron and the other ants so he could take them on a ride.
As he passed his mum’s vegetable garden, he noticed Koji, the Japanese ghost, sitting cross-legged amidst the plants with his eyes closed and one hand, palm up, on each knee. The ghostly man’s ancient book was open in his lap, and sitting nearby on a rock was a white feather. Wolf dropped the string from his hand and tiptoed towards him, ninja-style, hoping to scare him, and when Wolf was only inches away, Koji’s amber eyes burst open and he smiled at Wolf crouched in front of him. “You make more noise than forest growing,” said the ghost, motioning for Wolf to come and sit in the garden.
Wolf's mother had told him multiple times to stay out of her garden and not to eat her tomatoes. As Wolf thought about whether or not he should join Koji, he looked at the gum tree on the other side of the fence and saw Korey. The koala was standing upright on a low branch in the eucalyptus tree, sweeping both of his paws forward, gesturing for Wolf to go into the garden and break the rules. Wolf couldn’t resist the temptation, so he glanced around, checking his surroundings, then joined Koji in the veggie garden.
“Suwaru. Sit,” the ghost said, pointing to an open spot near a row of cabbages.
Wolf sat down, folding his legs beneath him, facing Koji.
“Do you know why I sit here?”
“Wakarimasen. I don’t know,” said Wolf.
“Because this is the precise spot at this exact place with best chi,” the ghost smiled. “You know chi?” he asked.
“It’s energy. Life force,” Wolf responded, gazing at the man’s narrow, monolid eyes.
The Japanese ghost asked, “And, circle of life?”
“What about it?” replied Wolf.
“When you born, you pure. Enlightened. Nonphysical. It is physical world that pull from enlightenment. Material things distract from truth and path. When you follow path and truth, you die same as born; enlightened, and then die and live again. Many times. That is circle of life.”
“But, how do you know if
you are on your path?” Wolf questioned.
“Ah, you make choice, and when choice is right, you feel here,” he answered, pointing his index finger at the center of Wolf’s chest. “You feel when it is path, and if not right, you feel, too, and make different choice. Choose different path,” Koji said, his enunciation exaggerated. “When you feel it is right, soul is telling you it is so.”
Wolf felt he understood, and then the ghost added, “And, remember, no wrong choice. Just choice.”
Wolf’s eyebrows pulled together as his lips tightened. “Master Kelly says that same thing, and sometimes, I’m not sure I get it.”
“Stop being surface,” Koji demanded. “Leave surface.”
Suddenly, Wolf’s mum was standing at the kitchen door yelling. “Wolf, what are you doing in my garden? You get out this instance!”
Wolf felt panicked because he wasn’t supposed to be in the garden, but he didn’t want to end his discussion with Koji. “Mum, please. I am just sitting, and I didn’t eat any of your tomatoes. Please let me stay a bit longer. We’re talking,” he stated, pointing towards the space where Koji was sitting. Unfortunately, Wolf knew that his mum couldn’t see the Japanese man and that she could only see tall, fanning stalks of spring onions poking out of the ground.
His mum took a deep breath and said, “Wolf, you get out of that garden this minute and stop pretending. You need to learn to obey the rules!”
Wolf felt sad and embarrassed, his eyes blazing, and he looked towards his mother. “Just ten more minutes, Mum. Please!” he pleaded.
She stormed over to the veggie garden and grabbed Wolf’s left earlobe, squeezing it between her fingers. “You go to your room right now and don’t come out until I tell you. Wolf, I don’t know what else to do with you. You need to stop misbehaving, or I don’t know what will happen to you.”
“Geez, alright,” he said, reluctantly standing up as she let go of his earlobe.
She Named Me Wolf Page 16