As Wolf stood watching, a half-smile on his face, someone tapped him on the shoulder. “Young man, what’s going on here?” Mr. Miller said, watching as Bruce tumbled back into the schoolyard.
“Uhm, Bruce was co-co-coming at me, sir, and I warned him to stop before I tossed him over the fence,” Wolf said.
“Well, we’ll see about that,” replied Mr. Miller. “Bruce, get over here.”
Bruce sulked, sluggishly coming over to where the teacher stood, and when he arrived, Mr. Miller gripped both boys by their upper arms and escorted them to the principal’s office. When they arrived, Mr. Miller told them to sit on a faux-leather couch in the waiting area and not to talk or move, and he went into an office and closed the door. After a few minutes, the door reopened, and Mr. Miller stepped out, followed by the principal.
“Boys, come in,” Principal Reynolds said from the doorway, motioning for them to enter.
Wolf and Bruce sat on two, hard-wood chairs facing the principal’s desk, and the principal sat down in a big, leather chair on the other side, studying the students. “Now, tell me exactly what happened today?” he said, leaning forward.
“He threw me over the fence…for no reason!” Bruce burst out, spraying tiny beads of saliva into the air.
“Bullshit,” Wolf mumbled.
“Wolf, is this true?”
“It’s tru-tru-true, but it was self-defense. He ca-came at me.”
“Wolf, you can’t be throwing people over fences.”
Bruce got excited, bobbing in his chair. “And, I didn’t do anything. He just grabbed me and threw me!”
“That’s not tr-true, Mr. Reynolds,” Wolf replied slowly, trying to avoid stuttering. “I was sitting on the bench and Bruce came over and sta-started making fun of my stuttering, and I warned hi-him to stop. Then, he ca-came at me with his arms out, like thi-this,” he said, outstretching his long arms, mimicking Frankenstein.
“He’s lying,” Bruce contested.
“Alright, Bruce, that’s enough. You can go now. I’ll deal with you later. Wolf, you stay.”
Wolf was deflated as Bruce left the room.
“Wolf, what you did was wrong and can’t happen again,” the principal said. “As a result of your behavior, I’m suspending you for the remainder of the week. That means no school for you tomorrow or Friday, and you can take that time to think about what you’ve done. Understand?
Wolf had to do everything in his power not to let his dimples show or jump out of his chair because not having to come to school was the greatest reward he could ever imagine.
“You have good grades and haven’t been in trouble before, so let this be the last time you fight at school. Oh, and I had my secretary call your dad, and he’s on his way here. Wait in here until he arrives, and we’ll all have a little chat,” he finished, leaving the room.
Wolf’s mood changed from elation to panic, and he wanted to scream at the principal for calling his dad. He sat silently, his palms sweating, and he heard his dad enter the building and speak muffled words in reception. A few minutes later, the principal and his father entered the office, and Wolf’s dad sat in the chair next to him.
Mr. Reynolds explained the situation.
“Is that what happened, Wolf?” his father asked, his voice gentle.
“Well, kind of, Dad. Bruce ca-came over and wa-was bullying me, so I warned him that if he did-didn’t stop, I-I-I’d throw him over the fence. He di-didn’t listen, so I tos-tos-tossed him over the fence, just like I said I would.”
His dad put his hand on Wolf’s shoulder and said, “Well, you warned him.”
“Sir, surely you can’t think it’s okay for your son to fight at school?” Principal Reynolds said, stretching his eyes wide.
“Well,” his dad said calmly, “if the kid was warned, then he was warned.”
“I must say, I’m surprised by your response. Let’s just agree that when Wolf returns to school, he won’t get in anymore trouble,” the principle said, cupping his hands and placing them in front of him on the desk.
“My son will defend himself,” Wolf’s dad said, standing up, his wide frame casting a shadow over the principle’s desk, “and he will be back to school on Monday. Come on, Wolf, let’s go.”
Wolf and his father walked towards his car with their arms at their sides, and when they arrived, his dad opened the passenger door for Wolf to get in, closing it when he was seated.
When Wolf’s dad got into the driver’s seat and turned on the ignition, he said, “Don’t let anyone bully you, kid.”
Wolf thought how strange the advice sounded coming from his dad since it was his own father who’d been bullying him for most of his life.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The rain rocketed down as Wolf walked the twenty minutes from karate training to school. When he finally arrived at his classroom, his black curls were saturated, the rainwater weighing down his hair until it almost touched his shoulders. At his desk, he removed his heavy, cotton gi pants from his backpack and used them to dry his wet hair.
“Hi, Wolf,’ a girl in his class said, passing by his desk and smiling shyly in his direction.
“Hey,” Wolf replied, not looking up as he shoved his gi pants back into his backpack. Classmates always tried to talk to Wolf, but to the best of his ability, he ignored them.
For rest of the day at school, Wolf barely spoke. Eventually, his teacher asked him a question. “Wolf, when did James Cook first land in Australia?”
“1770.”
“And where did he land?”
“Botany Bay. New South Wales.”
“Good. It sounds like you’re prepared for tomorrow’s test,” she said.
When school ended, it was still raining as Wolf walked briskly home, pulling up on the collar of his brown jacket, trying to keep himself dry.
“Rain doesn’t bother me at all,” Polly bragged, jumping in puddles near him, her long, thin legs and weightless body not making a splash.
“Well,” Wolf said, “you can’t feel it anyway. I don’t wanna be wet because it’s cold out.”
“I can’t feel the cold, either.”
When Wolf finally reached home, his hair and clothes soaked, he pulled a weed from his yard and carried it with him into the kitchen. “Hi mum,” he said, tossing the weed into the bin. Wolf could see his mother sitting on the loungeroom couch, folding laundry. As Wolf looked at her from the kitchen, he could see four rows of purplish bruises on her upper arm, and he knew that she'd been grabbed forcefully.
“How was school today?” she asked, folding a shirt.
“It was just school,” he responded, “and I’m really wet. It’s been raining all day.”
“That’s nice.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Anyway,” he said, “I’ve got homework so I’m going to my room.”
“Alright. Eating early tonight,” his mum replied.
Wolf walked past her as he went down the hallway and to his room.
“What’s your homework?” Polly asked when they were inside his bedroom.
Wolf dropped his backpack next to his old desk. “I don’t have any. I just said that so we could be alone. Want to build a tent?”
“Sure.”
Wolf went to the bathroom, dried off and changed his clothes. On the way back to his bedroom, he opened the hall closet and removed a light-blue flat sheet, bringing it with him to his room and spreading it on the carpet. He took the jo from his hiding space next to his mattress and brought the wooden staff to the floor before grabbing four encyclopedias from his desk. “These books will hold down the corners, and I’ll raise the stick in the middle,” he told Polly.
“Like a teepee,” she smiled.
After Wolf anchored the corners with the books, he crawled underneath the sheet and placed the jo straight up in the middle. The wooden stick popped the fabric up in the center and created sloping, cotton walls on all four sides. Polly passed through the sheets and sat down in front of him wearing he
r usual off-white, wraparound dress with faded cherry blossoms. “Cool,” she said, looking around. Polly pointed at the stick and asked, “When are you going to start training with the jo?”
“Master Kelly told me to bring it to training next week. I’ve also watched Junsaku use the stick lots of times, so I already know some of the moves.”
“Great. Okay, so what should we pretend? Should we pretend we are going to space? Or that we are in a submarine?”
“Let’s pretend we are walking in the bush and we find a cave, and when we go inside it, we get lost,” Wolf replied.
“Okay, ready?” Polly asked. Wolf shook his head ‘yes’, and Polly exclaimed, “Wolf, look! It’s a cave,” tugging on his arm.
Squinting their eyes, they crouched down and pretended to pass through the cave’s entrance.
“It’s so dark. I wonder how big it is inside?” Wolf whispered.
“I don’t know, but let’s keep going. And, what are those tiny lights on the ceiling?”
“Glow worms. They look like stars. Hey, I hear water moving, like an underground river; do you hear it?”
“Yes. We should find it because we’ll need water to survive,” Polly said.
“Yep. Hey,” Wolf whispered, “what’s that smell?”
“It smells like meat.”
The smell of beef hamburgers filled the inside of the tent and made Wolf’s stomach growl, interrupting his imaginative play. “That’s real food cooking, not pretend. My mum said dinner would be early tonight. That must be what smells,” Wolf said to Polly.
His mother yelled from the hallway, “Wolf, come and eat.”
“Good. I’m hungry. Polly, help me take down the tent,” he said.
They pulled on the jo, letting the sheet fall lifelessly on top of them. Wolf got out from underneath the sheet and folded it, returning it to the hall closet. He went back into his room and placed the wooden stick next to the ladder of his bunk bed, planning to put it back near his mattress after dinner.
When Wolf arrived at the kitchen, Orville was already seated at the breakfast bar. Their mother gave them each a plate of hamburgers and mash and went to the kitchen sink, poured herself a glass of water, and stared out of the window, gripping the glass tightly in her hand. His father wasn’t home yet, and Wolf felt anxious because his mother was unusually quiet.
Both boys ate quickly, finishing at almost the same time, and when they were done, their mum picked up their plates. “You can watch some telly before bed. Wolf, take your bath first,” she said.
“Okay, mum,” Wolf replied, leaving the kitchen.
After his bath, Wolf went to the loungeroom and joined his mum and Orville who were watching Lassie while Polly sat Indian-style in front of the telly, her nose almost touching the screen as she watched.
“Alright, Wolf, time for bed,” his mum said at the end of the episode.
“Goodnight,” Wolf replied, leaving the loungeroom and going to his room with Polly following.
His room was dark as ink as he lay in his bed with Polly next to him, his heart thumping because his father hadn’t come home yet, and then Orville opened the bedroom door and, without turning on the light, he slipped into the bottom bed. Minutes later, the only sound Wolf could hear was his teenage brother snoring, a light whistle coming from his nose when he exhaled.
Polly went to Orville’s bunk and sat on his chest.
“Hey, quit it,” Orville said, opening his eyes, expecting to see Wolf near him. However, when he looked, there was nobody there. After a few seconds, Polly lifted her body off of his chest, relieving the light pressure, and Orville closed his eyes and went back to sleep.
Polly went to Wolf’s bed and stretched her legs across the top of his thighs, sitting upright with her back against the wall, her eyes casting a dim, greenish glow on the top of his blanket. “You forgot to bring the jo back up here to hide it next to the mattress,” Polly whispered.
“I’ll do it tomorrow. I don’t feel like getting out of bed.”
They didn’t speak anymore, and after more than one hour, they heard the distant rumble of his father’s car engine approaching the house. Polly put her palms together and brought her hands to her forehead, the tips of her fingers touching her brow as though she was praying. Moments later, Wolf and Polly heard the kitchen door burst open, the metal doorknob banging the wall, and then Wolf’s dad throwing his keys on the countertop before stomping down the hall, stopping in front of his parent’s bedroom.
“Lizzie, get up! I’m hungry,” he bellowed, his words rebounding off the shut door. Then, his dad's boots pounded in the direction of his sons' room. Wolf heard the crinkling sound of Orville’s sheets as he mummified himself in the cotton, pretending to be asleep. His father opened the boys bedroom door and said, “Wolf, why is your bike on the footpath? I almost tripped on it, and I don’t need your stuff all over my yard. Get down from that bed.”
Polly floated up and hovered above Wolf, staring directly into his eyes. She moved to his right and squeezed his hand as he took a deep breath and sat up, the sheets sliding from his chest. Wolf’s eyes were dry yet stinging as he stepped cautiously down each rung of the ladder, and when his feet finally reached the floor, he turned and faced his father.
“When will you learn to obey me?” his dad roared, opening his palm near Wolf’s head.
As his father lifted his hand to strike him, Wolf grabbed the jo from near the ladder, and with his toes curled, he held the wooden staff like a spear, lunging with his left knee as he extended his right leg behind him. He forced the stick backwards, and with more than half the length of the rod behind him, he pivoted from his waist, swinging the jo wide and striking his father directly on the outside of his left knee.
For the first time in his twelve years of life, Wolf fought back. Now standing in front of his dad, his feet together, holding the stick at his side like a prophet, he bent his knees slightly and lowered his center, awaiting his father’s next move.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” his father cursed, grabbing the jo, yanking it from Wolf’s hand.
What Wolf saw next seemed to happen in slow motion. As his father’s big hand came towards his head, on track to strike his skull, Wolf stepped back with his right foot and performed a perfect jodan uke, or upper block, just as he had learned from Master Kelly and seen Junsaku do. Wolf’s forearm struck his father’s incoming strike with force, and the impact made his dad grunt, a look of shock spreading across his face.
Wolf backed away from his dad, readying himself to be struck again, but his father didn’t move.
“How fucking dare you?” his father bellowed before rushing at Wolf, using his weight to slam his son into the bedroom wall. All the air was forced out of Wolf’s lungs as he hit the wall then collapsed to the floor. He cried out as his father came over and began kicking him in his ribs, his cries caused more by shock than real pain, and Wolf thought of his iron shirt training with Master Kelly, breathing deeply into his belly as he awaited his father’s next blow, his eyes clenched shut, tears streaming down his cheeks. After minutes that felt more like hours, Wolf opened his eyes and saw his dad looking down at him with clenched fists, breathing heavily. “Get up, you little prick.”
As Wolf moved to get up, he heard his master’s words; “Always defend yourself, Kohai,” so he stood up and positioned his body to protect himself from another one of his father’s imminent strikes.
“Who do you think you are; Bruce fucking Lee?” his father asked. “You’re lucky I can control myself, otherwise I’d beat the hell outta’ you. Now, get inside,” he finished, pointing at the box.
Wolf thought that the only way he was getting inside that box was if his father killed him first. As he moved towards the box, his dad stepped aside, assuming Wolf was following his orders and getting inside, but instead Wolf went to the bunk bed. He stood at the base of the ladder, straightened his pyjamas, stood as tall as he could, and faced his dad, bowing towards him before standing upright.
/> “What the hell was that, you lunatic?” his father sneered. “Just get in your fucking bed before I forget you are my son.”
Wolf gripped the rungs of the ladder and climbed up, laying down on his back with his hands on his abdomen as his father left the room.
“He’s gone now. It’s okay,” Polly whispered.
“It’s not okay!” Wolf whimpered. “Why do I have to stay here? Why can’t I just move on and start another life?”
“Wolf, not now. You need to trust me.”
“Why? Why should I trust you? My life is shit, and it’s been that way for as long as I can remember,” he said, tears pouring down his face.
“Breathe,” Polly said, her palm resting on his cheek.
After several minutes, Wolf stopped sobbing.
“Wolf,” Polly said, “how did you know how to use the jo?”
“I don’t know. My body just knew how when I touched it. I think it’s because I’ve watched Junsaku, and because I used it in my past life.”
“Makes sense. You were really good with it,” Polly sighed. After a few minutes of silence, she said, “Do you realize what you just did? You stood up to your father. Your training has made you strong, Wolf. Do you feel it?”
“Yeah,” Wolf answered, his cheeks cooling. “But it’s no use; he still won.”
“He didn’t win. You won. You acted bravely. You took control.”
“Um,” he answered reluctantly, “I guess I kind of did.”
“Stop talking to yourself,” his dad shouted from the hall, “and go to sleep.”
“Goodnight, Polly,” he whispered.
“Oyasumi, Junsaku,” she said, her jade eyes glowing.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Wolf slept intermittently during the night, his breathing causing him sharp stabbing pains near his ribs where his father had kicked him. As the sun began to light the sky, he heard someone in the kitchen slamming drawers and cupboards.
She Named Me Wolf Page 21