“Lizzie, get up and make me breakfast!” his father yelled. After several minutes, there was no movement from his parent’s bedroom, the door remaining closed. “Get up!” his dad roared again.
His father yelled so loudly that Wolf assumed Orville must be awake, too, but his brother remained silent as a corpse in the bottom bunk as their father clamored in the kitchen. After at least ten more minutes, his mother still hadn’t opened her bedroom door, and Wolf and Polly listened as his father thumped down the hall and went to the door of his parent’s bedroom, opening it wide. “I told you to get up,” his father growled. Wolf knew his dad was talking to his mum, and as before, she didn’t respond. “Lizzie, this is my house, and you’ll listen to me. Get out of that bed now!”
Wolf could hear movement in his parent’s room, but still no sound of his mother’s voice.
“Polly,” he whispered, “he’s still drunk. I can smell it. We need to see what’s going on. Come on.”
When they climbed down from the top bunk, Wolf looked at Orville who was staring back at him, his hazel eyes double their normal size. “Orville, come with us,” Wolf said.
“I can’t,” he muttered. “No way.”
“You sally,” Wolf grumbled, grabbing Polly’s hand, leaving the room.
Wolf tiptoed to his parent’s bedroom door and stood near the hinges, hugging the wall, turning his head slightly so he could peer through the crack between the door and the frame and see inside. Wolf could see his mother laying underneath pale-yellow bedsheets, her eyes closed, and his dad standing at the foot of the bed holding a large box of matches.
Wolf and Polly watched as his father slid open the cardboard box and removed a long match, dragging the head along the striker and sparking a flame. With his hand cupped around the ignited end, he lowered the match to the corner of the yellow bedspread and held it steady until the flame took hold of the cotton and the fire began creeping towards his mother’s feet. As they watched the fire crawling up the corner-edge of the bed, Polly’s skin glowed with the same red, gold and orange flare as the growing flame, and Wolf’s mouth went completely dry as though it was stuffed with gauze. The entire time they watched the scene unfolding, his mum never opened her eyes or moved, her body frozen in place as though she already rested in a coffin.
His father’s eyes were focused on the flame, watching it move. Suddenly, he shook his head back and forth as though he'd been hit in the face with a bucket of ice-cold water. “Lizzie, Lizzie, get up! Get out of the bed,” he begged. He grabbed a jumper that was slung over a chair and began flinging it wildly, smothering the flame. He smashed at the bedspread until the fire disappeared, leaving only a black smear on the bed cover.
The entire time, his mother still didn’t budge, the rise and fall of her chest the only sign that she was alive.
“Jesus, Lizzie, you’re scaring me. What’s wrong with you?” his dad asked.
“Go,” his mother responded, restraining her rage, her voice lowered by at least one octave.
“Okay, okay. I’ll go. But, if you would’ve just done what I asked, this would have never happened.”
His mum lay silent, her eyes shut.
Polly poked Wolf and motioned for them to return to his bedroom. They scurried back and climbed into his bunk just as his dad left his bedroom and walked down the hall with his head slumped.
The children lay down on their backs, staring at the ceiling. “Why didn’t my mum move? Why did she just lay there?” Wolf whispered. “She could have died. I should have done something.” He felt sick to his stomach.
“And your dad acts like it’s her fault. I would never put up with that,” Polly stated, folding her arms at her chest. “You couldn’t have helped her, Wolf. Even though she doesn’t stand up for you, she needs to at least stand up for herself. If you would have gotten involved, your dad would’ve probably lit you on fire.”
“But I just stood there, hiding from sight and not helping her. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I stand up to him?” he asked, tears trickling down his cheeks.
“You stood up to him yesterday, Wolf. You fought him with your mind as well as with the jo. Remember; you are still a boy becoming a man.”
“It’s one thing to hurt me, but it kills me to see him hurt Mum. All she’s ever tried to do is keep the peace. She needs to get away from him,” he said, wiping his runny nose.
“Everyone makes choices, Wolf,” Polly said.
Wolf put his head in Polly’s lap, and she laid her palm gently on his cheek. He could hear his heart beating and could feel the heat radiating from her hand as he looked across the room and into the mirror that hung above his desk. Even though he could feel Polly’s hand on his cheek, his head resting in her lap, he couldn’t see her in the mirror across the room and could only see his reflection looking back at him.
Chapter Forty
The summer air was still warm even though it was ten o'clock at night, and the full moon illuminated the yard, providing light inside the vegetable garden. Wolf had been with Koji for more than an hour, discussing a koan that Master Kelly had given Wolf the day before.
“It’s not a difficult one,” Wolf told the ghost, “at least I don’t think it is. It goes, ‘Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of your teacher. Seek what he sought.’”
“Ah, very good,” the Japanese ghost replied. “But, do not believe it simple. Not simple!” he barked.
Wolf looked at Koji and thought about how the ghost’s physical appearance was the same as when they first met years ago. Unlike Polly, whose appearance changed each year like Wolf’s, this ghost never aged. Wolf’s thoughts were disrupted by the sound of the phone ringing inside the house. It rang ten times, stopped, then began ringing again. “I’d better go answer that,” Wolf said, standing up and dusting the dirt off his jeans. “Ja mata, Koji. See ya.”
As he entered the house, he wondered why his mother hadn’t picked up the phone. He realised she probably didn’t want to because his dad hadn’t come home for dinner, and it was most likely him on the other end of the line, drunk and stupid. Since Wolf was the only son at home now that Orville had moved to Sydney, Wolf had to either listen to the phone ring or pick it up himself. After countless rings, Wolf picked up the receiver. “Hello?” Wolf said, his voice deep.
“Put your mum on,” his father stated.
“She’s in bed.”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass. Get her.”
“No, she’s in bed. I’m not going to bother her,” Wolf replied coolly.
“Boy, put your mum on the phone now!” he hollered.
“I’m not a boy anymore, Dad. No.”
“Just because you’re fifteen doesn’t mean I can’t still beat the shit out of you. Put her on.”
“Nope,” Wolf finished, placing the handle back on the cradle, knowing precisely what the outcome of his action would be. He walked down the hall, all six feet, three inches of him, and knocked on his mother’s door.
“Come in,” she said.
Wolf opened the door and leaned against the frame.
“That was your father, right?”
“Yep. And, as usual, he’s drunk and in one of his moods. I probably made it worse when I told him I wasn’t going to get you out of bed. Oh, and maybe when I hung up on him, too.”
“Humph,” she sighed. As she stared at Wolf standing in the doorway, she admired the confident and strong man he’d become. He was tall, lean, and muscular, with thick, soft black hair that tumbled in loose curls and rested mid-neck, and liquid whiskey eyes framed by thick, dark brows, and he exuded power, intimidating most people who came into contact with him.
“Anyway, goodnight,” he said, closing the door softly. Wolf went to the kitchen and turned the deadbolt on the door, blocking his father’s entrance through the kitchen door, and went to the loungeroom, melting into the couch, facing the front door, the greyish blue hue of the moon outside forming flat shadows on the interior of the house. Polly came and sat next to
him on the couch, crossing her legs and placing her delicate hands on the top of her knee. Wolf thought about how they’d been together almost his whole life, and that she was the only one of his childhood friends still around.
When Wolf was eleven years old, Korey disappeared. For months, Wolf searched the gum trees in the yard and those beyond the fence trying to find him, but he never saw the koala again. That same year, Buford, the blue tongue skink, also dropped out of sight, no longer seen hiding under plants or slithering across the yard.
Later, when Wolf was thirteen, Carla went away, too. One day, while Wolf was petting her near her kennel, he felt a big lump under her fur, so he went into the kitchen and told his mum. The next day when he returned from school, his mother was taking Carla to the town’s veterinarian to be checked out, and when she returned home later that evening, Carla wasn’t with her. Though Wolf was sad that his Blue Heeler was gone, he was also content knowing that his dog didn’t have to suffer, and he even joked with Polly that he wished he could have been euthanized when he was younger.
The next year, when Wolf was fourteen, things also changed in the aviary. One day, when his father entered the birdhouse, he found Gary the galah dead on the ground near the wire wall. His dad simply picked up the bird by his feet and placed his body into a plastic bag before tying it with a knot and putting the galah into the bin. Then, a few weeks after Gary’s death, Cecelia, the crimson rosella, escaped from the aviary. It happened when Wolf’s father opened the door and she shot past his shoulder, flying too fast for him to react. Wolf was sitting on the grass in the yard when he heard his father holler, and he looked up into the sky and saw Cecelia flying directly towards him. She came to where Wolf was sitting and made three small loops in the air right above the crown of his head before flying away, her purple wings pumping against the light blue sky as she escaped towards the hills, disappearing forever.
Two months after Cecelia left the yard, Aaron left, too, telling Wolf that he had to move to an ant colony in Queensland to train his relatives on best practises for food management and defense tactics.
Luckily for Wolf, Polly never left him, and now she sat next to him on the couch as he waited patiently for his father’s arrival home. After about thirty minutes, Wolf heard his dad’s car speeding up the road before skidding into the driveway, ricocheting tiny rocks and gravel as it slid to a stop. He listened as the car door opened then slammed shut, and he heard his father’s hard-soled shoes stomping the ground as he charged the kitchen door.
His dad put his key in the bottom lock and unlocked the handle, but when he tried to push the kitchen door open, it wouldn’t budge because Wolf had secured the second, deadbolt lock on the inside. His dad shoved the door a couple more times before giving up and heading towards the front of the house.
When his father arrived at the front door, Wolf had already opened it and was standing in the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. His dad stepped onto the porch and pushed past him, entering the house, and Wolf closed the door and walked into the loungeroom, turning to face his dad.
“Ungrateful prick,” his father said, charging towards him and punching wildly at the air. Before his dad could make contact, Wolf shifted his weight and effortlessly moved to the side, avoiding his father’s punches. Wolf’s moves redirected his dad’s momentum and caused him to stumble head-first into the telly, knocking it to the ground and cracking the glass screen. His father fell to his knees on the carpet, staring at the broken screen, the veins in his neck swelled with anger, and he hoisted himself upright and faced Wolf.
Wolf stood tall, inhaling deeply into his center as he had practised every day in karate, using his breath to balance his chi. As he stared at his father, he saw a thin veil hugging his dad’s body, the colour of fresh blood, and as his mind quickly cataloged all the different ways he might kill his dad right here in the loungeroom, he heard the voice of Master Kelly say, “Life is about choice. Don’t let the actions of others control you.”
Wolf took another deep breath, closing his eyes and forcing his mind to clear, and when he opened his eyes again, Polly was standing directly behind his father, her dress shimmering like white, milky quartz in the dim light. “Make the right choice,” she mouthed.
“Dad, stop. You’re drunk. I don’t want to hurt you,” Wolf said, relaxing his open hands on his belly.
“You? Hurt me?” his father laughed sarcastically. “What a joke,” he said, his fist making a jab at Wolf’s chin.
As his father’s fist came towards his face, Wolf moved his head to the side, causing his father’s punch to miss him completely. Wolf put his hand on his dad’s left shoulder, and with his right-hand, he delivered a powerful uppercut punch that slammed into his father’s chin, driving his head backwards and knocking him to the ground, the impact with the floor forcing the air from his lungs. Wolf walked to where his father lay wheezing and held out his hand, offering to help him stand up. His father looked up at Wolf with wide, mossy green eyes and reached out his left hand, allowing Wolf to lift him. Once he was upright, his dad pushed back strands of thinning black hair hanging in his eyes and stood quietly, his navy-blue shirt bunched at his waist.
As Wolf stared at his father, he felt pity for him, thinking about what a pathetic and cowardly man he was, and then his dad exploded again, trying to punch him. Wolf moved to the side as his father’s fist glided past his head, and he grabbed his dad’s arm and threw him over his shoulder, driving him forcefully to the ground. “To think I almost felt sorry for you. To hell with you, old man,” Wolf said, dumbfounded. Wolf dropped to his knees and clenched his father’s throat in his brawny hand, and with his lips close to his father’s ear, he said in a low voice, “Listen closely. I am leaving tonight, and you won’t follow me, or report me to school, or do anything. And, if I hear that you lay a finger on Mum again, I swear I will kill you. You hear me? Blink twice so I know you understand, and do it quickly because you only have a few more seconds until you pass out.”
His father’s bloodshot eyes blinked two times, and Wolf gave his neck one, final squeeze before shoving him away and standing up. His dad lay on his back, barely moving, then he flipped onto his side and rested his left cheek on the carpet, gasping for air, trying to regain normal breathing.
Wolf felt numb as he walked down the lightless hallway to his room. He put essential clothes from his dresser and his closet into his duffle bag with his gi, and he grabbed his jo and his denim jacket and walked back towards the front door, noticing that his parents’ bedroom door was still closed, his mother hidden inside.
When Wolf reentered the loungeroom, his father was sitting expressionless in his recliner. “I need money,” Wolf told him.
His dad shifted in the chair and removed his wallet from his back pocket. He reached inside and pulled out a stack of cash, handing it all to Wolf. Wolf folded the wad of money and put it into the pocket of his denim jacket before leaving the house through the front door. As he shut the door behind him, Polly was already outside leaning against the porch railing. Now fifteen years old like Wolf, her ghostly image was tall and lean with radiant skin, the shade of milky coffee, and her piercing green eyes curved upwards, and she had long, mahogany-coloured hair that dangled near her slim waist.
“Let’s go,” Wolf stated, stepping off the porch and onto the cement walkway.
“I’m proud of you, Wolf,” she said, strolling close to his side.
“I’m not going back, Polly.”
“I know. This is your path.”
“Fuck, I hope I’m doing the right thing.”
“Of course, you’re doing the right thing Wolf. You’re on your path,” Polly replied.
“What path? What shit path is this? My life sucks, and all you’ve ever done is tell me about finding my path, and all I’ve ever wanted was someone to love me, not some bullshit path.”
“I love you,” she whispered sweetly.
“Oh great, a ghost loves me. What more do I need?” Wolf mo
cked.
“By the way, it’s not just me who tells you about finding your path. It’s Master Kelly, too,” she declared. “Anyway, today you made the right choice, don’t you think?”
“Well, it’s shit back there, so, yes, I guess I made the right choice.”
“Good. So, where are we going?”
“To Sydney. I have enough money for us…I mean me…to live on for a bit until I find work.”
“What about school? You know they’ll ask your parents why you’re not there and then they’ll come looking for you,” Polly reminded him.
“I took care of that already. I turned in a letter and forged Dad’s name. I wrote that he’s pulled me out of school and enrolled me in the army because I need to learn discipline and serve my country.”
“Clever.”
As they walked silently down the main street, the sidewalk illuminated by the stars, moon and an occasional street light, Wolf felt dreadfully alone even though Polly walked by his side. “Hang on,” he finally said as they approached a gas station on the outskirts of town. “I can’t do this to her. I need to call Mum.”
He stopped at a payphone and fished coins from his jeans pocket, dropping them into the slot and dialing.
“Hello?”
“Mum, it’s me.”
“Where are you?” she asked concernedly.
“Mum, I’ve left, and I’m not coming back. I’m going to Sydney. I told you Master Kelly moved there a few weeks ago, and I have to be near him to continue my training,” he said solemnly.
“I see. I shouldn’t let you go, Wolf. You should finish school,” she said. “Where will you live?”
“Master Kelly told me if I ever came to Sydney to call him. He’ll let me stay with him until I find work and a place to live.” Wolf paused. “I just can’t take it anymore, Mum,” he said, his voice barely audible.
The phone line was silent.
After a minute, his mum said, “Well, at least tell me where you end up, and please be careful son. Do you have money?”
She Named Me Wolf Page 22