chapter 9
Dinner with wolf
The day had been thoroughly uneventful and boringly relaxing. I had spotted the wolf a number of times, just at the outskirts of whatever pasture I was riding at the time. Kinda crazy to think that animal might actually show up for dinner tonight, but I always keep my word.
The rabbit was wrapped in brown butcher’s paper, tucked securely under my arm, as I walked towards the corral where Jonesy pranced around expectantly. We had just spent ALL day riding and he was ready for more, crazy old horse.
“Hey Jonesy,” I called to my buddy as I slowly opened the gate to the corral, “You ready to go meet the newest member of the talking animal club?”
Jonesy snorted and whinnied, while shaking his head throwing his mane all over. “I really don’t think you have much to worry about,” my banter continued lightly. “Not like he can be as smart as you; you will always be my go-to for good conversation.” Jonesy snorted, bobbing his head up and down while pawing at the ground with hoof.
Smiling, I realized anyone watching would probably try to have me committed, but after all of these years, Jonesy and I really do have some good conversations. Tucking the rabbit in a saddle bag, I tested and adjusted all the straps holding the saddle on Jonesy’s back.
Swinging up into the saddle my smile widened; nothing was quite like riding, a man and his horse. No phone, no electronics, just man, horse, and Mother Nature. Trotting around the house we headed out toward one of my favorite places. “Yah know, Jonesy,” a thought jumped into my mind, “I never told Wolfy Boy where exactly we were going to have dinner tonight.”
Jonesy snorted and whickered. “Yah, he doesn’t act like a normal wild animal.” Scanning the distant tree lines, I bantered on, “He is probably out there following us right now. He is friendly enough, but it is still definitely creepy.” Jonesy whinnied and shook his head up and down in agreement.
The sun was setting as we crested the last hill, looking down at the rocky clearing that commanded this field. The massive trunk of the lightning blasted tree stuck straight up, contrasting against the oranges, reds, and blues of the sunset.
Swinging down out of the saddle, I began surveying the ground for an appropriate spot for a fire. Pulling the saddlebags off Jonesy’s back, I quipped, :Hey buddy, this is gonna probably take a while to cook, you know the drill. Enjoy yourself…just don’t wander off too far. OK?” Jonesy shook his head and snorted, then slowly began trotting away into the shadows.
Creating a circle of stones, I began gathering twigs and sticks. Before long I had a nice little fire going to fend off the evening chill. Setting up a small spit for the rabbit, l leaned back against a small boulder and smiled watching the flames of the fire lick at the rabbit. The hissing of dripping rabbit grease blended in perfectly with the orchestra of nocturnal insects out this evening.
Before long I heard a howl echo across the field. Glancing up at the sky I made quick note of a full moon. Great…maybe this is not the best night to have dinner with a wolf. Oh well. I am here now, and that rabbit is starting to smell awfully good.
Two glowing eyes appeared in the shadows across from me on the other side of the fire. The wolf trotted into the light of the fire; sitting down on his haunches he just looked at me with that silly panting smile.
A voice popped into my head. The Storm Comes!
“All right now, buddy.” Turning the rabbit on the spit slowly, I stared at my new furry companion. “I really need a little bit more to go on.”
We are WOLF. We shall weather the storm together. The voice seemed to be struggling to connect the dots of a thought.
“Whoa there…” Holding up my hand, I signaled the conversation to stop. “What’s this WE stuff. You’re a wolf and I am a lonely cowboy. This situation is escalating a little too quickly for my comfort level.”
The wolf stood up and moved around the fire toward me. Reflexively, my revolver found itself in my hand. CLICK. Cocking the hammer back, I pointed the barrel between Wolfy’s eyes from about six inches.
He stopped and stood, seeming to stare into my soul. There was no malice in those ancient eyes. Eyes much, much older than mine. Slowly, I lowered my revolver, sliding it back into its holster on my right hip, almost hypnotized by his stare.
He laid down beside me. Looking up at me with those ancient eyes, he rested his head in my lap. Tentatively I reached over and began scratching him behind the ears like I would the family dog.
As my fingers touched his fur, pain seared into my brain and a blinding light disoriented me. I felt myself falling backward as I blacked out…
Chapter 23
My angel's Exuberance
Nighttime was upon me again. The darkness was calling me. Even with everything that had happened, I had been unable to nap during the day. It seemed like every muscle ached. The pounding in my head was a combination of the previous night’s events and a hangover.
Not having any restful sleep in God knows how long was not helping any. The fact that the sun had gone down hours ago reminded me I really should be sleeping like most normal people. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw a little girl in a green and white dress with pigtails. I am not sure if I can handle another night of that magnitude.
As I leaned against the headboard my eyelids kept closing, but after a second I would force them back open. I was nervous after last night, but finally I succumbed to the inevitable. Sleep engulfed me before my chin had come to rest on my chest.
***
The feel of my horse under me was comforting, as it always had been. His steel-shoed hooves clicked off the black pavement as I slowly trotted down Main Street. Kimberly sat tall in her saddle with her white cowboy hat pulled down in the front far enough that I couldn’t see her eyes when she looked my way. That was a shame.…She had such pretty green eyes, but the sun was bright on this cloudless day.
Her long, braided ponytail swung back and forth rhythmically as her horse, Abigail, plodded along next to Jonesy. She was chattering something about an algebra test we had taken last week. Yah…that was not something I wanted to think about.
She was wearing a perfectly fitting green and white shirt with a tiny checkered pattern on it. Even though I could see only one leg, I knew she was wearing “those” jeans. She claims they are her most comfortable pair…yah, maybe at some point.
They were snug in all the right places, or wrong places, depending on your point of view, and getting threadbare in definitely some of the wrong places.
Honestly, I am not sure how she snuck out of the house in those jeans. Not that I personally minded…but just last week a fella in the eighth grade at school had made a comment a little too loudly as he watched her walk past, and it wasn’t about her ponytail or hat.
Kimberly just giggled and ignored him, not breaking stride. I on the other hand…well, that one bought me a free day off and him a trip to the dentist to help him find the three teeth I knocked down his throat. Yah…they were those kind of jeans.
Rounding the corner, our destination came into view, Breckler’s Old Fashioned Ice Cream. It was only game in town if you wanted something other than that funny soft freeze stuff. The owner really didn’t like us bringing the horses into his parking lot, but honestly, they had only left deposits once or twice over the years.
Riding up to a tall tree which shaded some picnic tables , I dismounted and tied my reins around a lower branch. Walking over to Kimberly’s horse, I offered to help her down, then took Abigail and tied her next to Jonesy. Wandering up to the store front, I stepped ahead, opening it for her, then walked in behind her.
They made their ice cream in house, which meant, depending on the time of year the flavors varied a bit. This was one of my favorite times of year when it came to ice cream. The owner’s wife, a nice, gray-haired lady, spotted me. “Hello, Connor, I have a little of your favorite left if you want it.” She sounded downright cheerful today as she continued, “One or two?”
“Yes ma’am, two please.” I politely returned, scanning the other folks who were here to get ice cream today. Most were other kids from school, so no one interesting. Kimberly had walked across the room to visit with some of her friends.
She had a few more than me…not that says much. Some of the heads turned as she walked by. My pulse quickened, and reflexively my right hand closed into a fist.
She was animatedly talking to some other girls. Something must have fallen off the table. Turning slightly, she bent over to pick up a tiny object, then stood up and handed it to her friend.
My heart skipped a beat; I heard an almost nonexistent whistle from one of the fellas signaling his appreciation of the view. Then one of the others bent his head at a slight angle in the universal “I need a better look at that” motion.
Before common sense could prevail, I stepped forward, smacking both of the fellas on the back of their hard heads. This, of course, caused quite a ruckus as they both tried to stand up at the same time. Once they were up, I did not give an inch. I just stood there looking UP at them both…ya…not good.
They did both hesitate for a second. “Connor? What’s up with that? Nothing against the law with just lookin’.”
“Sure there is.” I looked up at both of the high school seniors from below my hat brim. “When it’s Kimberly there are plenty of rules.…Do I need to explain them to you?”
“I think we should teach the rancher’s boy to mind his own business,” one of them interjected.
Without missing a beat, I countered, “We really going to do this here, boys? OK then. Sure. I like the odds.” I punctuated the statement by slowly removing my hat and tossing it onto a nearby table.
The world quickly focused down to the two fellas in front of me; my heart rate sped up, preparing for the oncoming encounter. The sound of my Angel’s voice broke the silence. “Connor…what’s going on?” Walking up behind me, she rested a hand gently on my shoulder. “Everything all right?”
“Not really.” My voice was steady and even, “We’re about to find out how bad it is, I think…” Turning my attention back to the two in front of me, I said, “Well? How’s this going to end?”
Before I could dig myself a deeper hole, the owner’s wife showed up carrying two ice cream cones, each with two large scoops of strawberry. “Boys. Boys. Boys. Come on now.” She used her best scolding grandma voice. “Now stop it…not here…”
Turning to me, her demeanor became happier. “Here you go, Connor…you and Kimmy go enjoy the rest of this beautiful day…outside.” She handed me the ice cream cones and shooed us out the door before I could cause anymore mischief.
Not meeting Kimberly’s gaze, I quietly said, “I had it under control. I coulda handled them.” We wandered slowly toward the horses.
“I have no doubt you could,” she said matter-of-factly. “But did you really want to risk getting thrown out and not ever being able to have any of Breckler’s ice cream ever again?”
Reaching the horses, we took the reins and started towards the street. Looking at her for the first time, I responded, “I hadn’t thought of that.” I sheepishly plowed ahead, “I’m not always that good at the thinking part. That’s why I hang out with you. I let you do that part cause you’re better at it.” Smiling at her as we waited to cross the street to the town’s small park, we stood in momentary silence.
There was a decent amount of traffic today. Breckler’s was only one turn off of the main road that leads out to the highway, so its normal is fairly busy…but its Saturday… oh well. I wasn’t rushing anywhere. The light finally changed and we headed across the street, getting a number of amused looks from the folks sitting at the light in their cars. Seeing a horse in town is fairly rare unless I am around.
Safely reaching the park, we allowed the horses to graze on the grass and slowly found a big tree to sit under to get out of the sun. I leaned up against the trunk of the tree, while Kimberly sat cross-legged on the grass looking at me with those beautiful green eyes.
She began chattering again about some test coming up next week. It all became nothing but a droning in the background as I quickly got lost in her incredible gaze…falling into the eternity of her eyes.
“Connor?” Her voice brought me back to reality. “Connor?” She repeated. I got the distinct impression she had called my name more than twice. There was a mischievous tone to her voice, “So it’s OK for you to stare at me, but other guys can’t?”
“What?” I was totally caught off guard. “Staring?” My mind was stumbling around like a herd of mice running from a cat. “Was I staring?”
Her laugh was totally disarming, not helping my situation. “Yah…staring.” She pushed her advantage, watching me squirm. “You were off in la la land for at least five minutes.”
“I wasn’t staring…” I was digging my hole deeper.
“Oh yes, you were definitely staring.” She continued laughing.
“Well, that’s different, I wasn’t staring at your.…” I tripped over my words.
“My what?” Placing her hands on the ground, she leaned toward me, breaking into a smile. The cat was toying with her mouse.
Sweet mother of mercy…our noses were about a foot apart when I shifted my gaze, following the gentle arch of her back down to her very nice round and toned…I broke out in a sweat, blurting, “I was looking at your eyes.…They were looking at your…” I was cornered with nowhere to run.
Sitting back, she just continued smiling while finishing her ice cream cone. After my pulse dropped to some semblance of normal, I took a little jab, “Come on, Kimmy…you know what they were looking at…”
“Yah…I know,” she responded plainly. “They can look all they want because they know not to touch.” She was smiling that mischievous smile again. “Anyways…I have you; you always protect me. So, I am always safe.”
That logic was sound; I was always near and would always protect her. But one little thought crept to the front of my mind. The courage almost failed me, but I managed to ask, “Why do you hang out with me?” She looked my way, her demeanor shifted to a more serious one. “You could have lots more friends if you did not hang out with me all the time.”
“Connor, why do we hang out so much?” She was hesitating…not like her at all. “Well, that’s complicated and also really simple.” She stared straight into my eyes to make sure she had my full attention. “You, Connor, treat me like a princess. You always tell it to me straight, and I don’t think you have ever lied to me.”
“Well…yah…of course.” I was a little confused. “But that’s how I treat all of the girls.”
“Exactly, that’s why!” She seemed happy, like it should all make sense. I was still totally lost.
“What?” I must have had a priceless look of confusion on my face.
She began laughing, but gently tried again. “That, Connor, is why I have hung out with you for, like…forever.” She had moved over to sit next to me leaning against the tree trunk.
Our legs were touching…my pulse began to quicken annoyingly again for some reason. “You don’t care what anyone thinks about you. You treat everyone with respect. Us girls? Doesn’t matter if we’re white, black, skinny, fat, smart, or dumb as a brick…you treat us all the same. Stand up for all of us the same.”
She began poking me in the arm to accentuate every word, “That…is…why…I…hang out…with…” She leaned over and gave me a little peck on the cheek before finishing with enthusiasm, “YOU!”
My cheeks were getting warm; I was probably blushing. Man, she always had this effect on me…silly girls. Levering myself up off the ground, I started, “We should probably head back home. We don’t want to be too late. Your Poppa will worry.”
She hopped up with a big smile on her perfect face, “No, he won’t. He knows I am with you. You always take care of me.” She began walking toward the horses.
I slowed down just a few steps as she walked happily, almost bouncing towards Abigail, admiring her spirit and beautiful ponytail…and, well, those darn faded threadbare jeans too…
Walking up beside her, I offered a hand to help her up into the saddle. She of course did not need any help but, as always, accepted the gesture with a smile and a “thank you, sir.”
Turning the horses onto the street, we began to head toward the edge of town. There was only one intersection to cross, and then we would do the rest cross country. I don’t mind riding on the road but would much rather be away from all the pavement and concrete.
The mischievous look on Kimberly’s face always means trouble; I knew what she was going to say before the words left her lips.
“Come on, Connor…bet I can beat you across the intersection.” Her voice was full of life as she urged her horse into a gallop.
Looking, I saw the crosswalk warning had kicked on…plenty of time. Responding cockily, I quipped, “Not this time, Darlin’.” She had never beaten me…so it was perfectly safe. Why was I tingling all down my back, though? Kicking Jonesy, we surged forward. She had a fifty-yard lead…plenty of time to catch her. Passing her at twenty-five yards, I waved my hat in a mock salute.
We entered the intersection, galloping by a lone sheriff’s patrol car sitting at the corner as the light turned yellow. His lights kicked on blinking and flashing when we were halfway to the far side of the street. Oops…well…most likely another slap on the wrist. Kimberly was less than ten feet behind my horse…close but not quite, Darlin’.
A moving blur to the right caught my attention. As I turned to look, the hair bristled on my arms. Someone was screaming. My subconscious picked it up before I did. It was me screaming. “KIMBERLY! NOOOOO!”
Chapter 57
uninvited to the party
Roaring through the city late at night was an adrenaline rush. Almost no cars were out. The highway was a whole different ballgame; there were always cars out there. Hopefully tonight would not be too busy.
The prey is getting farther away. Wolf pleaded in my head, Go faster! Before their trail is lost among the innocents.”
Well, all right, then.…Guess it is time to open the old girl up. Shifting and accelerating, we shot down the on ramp. Coming down the hill, my prey could be seen a mile up weaving through the traffic, causing a scattering of chaos. Wonderful, everyone decided to come out for a midnight drive.
Neon was trying to say something, but I could not hear her from the roaring wind. My heart pounded in my chest, and Wolf howled in my head. Weaving in between cars and trucks, we slowly began gaining on our quarry. Adrenaline pulsed through my veins, making me feel younger than I had in decades.
Neon was cutting the circulation off around my waist, she was squeezing me so hard.
***
Cars spun around us like tops, bouncing off each other. The maelstrom of fiberglass and plastic missed us by inches and the loud crumpling of metal hurt my ears. These guys had become more than a nuisance; the destruction they had caused along the highway had subdued even Neon momentarily. When I caught these idiots, there was going to be trouble.
The leader cut across three lanes of traffic in front of two cars, shooting up an exit ramp. The driver on the left slammed their brakes, veering into the second vehicle. Being only fifty yards behind and running about ninety mph did not leave much time to react.
Sparks flew as the two vehicles impacted and began to immediately fishtail and spin. Only seconds left before I was a part of that mess. The hair bristled on my neck as Wolf howled in my head.
The hammering of my heart sped up, but the world around me seemed to slow down. Watching the spinning cars in front of me, I mentally timed how fast they were rotating. Too close to go left or right…straight up the middle it is then.
Waiting for the correct moment, I red-lined the RPMs, causing the Indian to almost leap through an ever-closing hole. My right mirror cracked and bent back as the car on my right barely grazed it.
Shooting through to the opening into the freedom in front of me, I banked hard right, barely catching the exit back up into the city. The bikers were at the top of the ramp; they all turned back and made rude hand gestures. When I caught them, it was going to be bad…very bad.
Back to weaving through the city…the buildings were quickly becoming older and more run down. Graffiti-covered walls and broken windows were the norm within just a few minutes of exiting the highway.
It was almost like they wanted me to catch up now. Three more turns and they darted down an alley. The bikes disappeared through the garage door of a building on our right
Game time…three on one…those odds are just fine with me. Neon squeezed my shoulder hard and leaned up close to say something. “Don’t go in there…” I turned and rolled under the garage door…
Looking back at her… “What, darlin’? Just getting to the end of the ride…but probably plenty of excitement left…”
“I said DON’T GO IN THERE!” Neon was totally flustered and out of sorts. That was kinda disturbing. “Are you crazy? You had no clue what was in here.”
Glancing around the first floor, the room I had rolled into was huge. Multiple doors and stairs led out of it. A number of cars, functional and otherwise, littered the garage area. The three thugs dismounted their bikes across the room and began yelling obscenities.
Swinging off the bike, I grabbed my cowboy hat from the saddle bags and turned to face the street vermin. Glancing at Neon, I winked as I turned… “It’s just three gutter punks. Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Hey man, you’re crazier than we are.” The leader of the bikers spoke from behind his helmet’s face shield as he walked toward me, his two lackeys in tow. “I didn’t think that old relic of a bike had it in her; gonna be a shame to send her to the chop shop.”
Laughing, I stood still, letting them come to me. “I will save ya the worry, she won’t be goin’ anywhere except back to my garage on the ranch. And to clear your conscience, why don’t you hand over that money ya stole from Grandma? You will sleep better at night. Trust me.”
Now the punks laughed, stopping about five feet away. “Wow. You have no clue who you are talking to or exactly how much trouble you’re actually in, do you?”
Deadpan serious, I shot back, “Well, with your helmets on, I have to assume you’re just adolescent punk gutter trash whose manhood hasn’t dropped yet. So, I really am not worried at all.”
Slowly, all three removed their helmets; they appeared to be humans in their early twenties…who did not look at all happy. “Really? Give you the money?” The ringleader laughed some more. “I think not. Enough talk. I’m gonna warm up on you and then show your lady a good time.” Tossing his helmet aside, he slipped on some brass knuckles while taking a few steps back.
“Her you can have. She’s crazier than me.” Chuckling, I took a step back while bringing my left arm up in a guard position. “But the bike you’re still never touching.”
Neon couldn’t stand it any longer. She chimed in, “This gutter trash will never be man enough for me. What? Wait a second.…” Slapping me across the back, she continued, “They can have me? Really?”
Wolf howled in my head as the moment of combat neared. Energy pulsed through my veins. Concentrating, it felt as if my heart beats were slowing down. The vermin leader seemed to be swinging…in slow motion.
Stepping forward and to the right, I moved out of the direct path of the brass knuckles. Bringing my right around in a body shot, the world slammed back into normal speed. The punk was off balance from his missed swing, and then my body shot literally lifted him off the ground. He collapsed in a heap.
Movement to the left caught my attention, something moving toward my head. As I raised my arm to block, I realized it was one of the helmets…. That was gonna hurt bad. The helmet cracked when it hit my arm, which was glowing blue.
Glancing to the right, I kicked up at the third thug, catching him where the sun doesn’t shine. With a squeak, he collapsed also. Nothing but a street punk… have no clue how to fight.
Shaking my left arm, flexing the fingers to make sure everything still worked, I walked toward the remaining thug. Neon’s voice almost broke my concentration. “Uh… Cowboy?” Something about her tone was not right.
“Just a sec, darlin’, I’m almost done.” Before the last poor soul could run, he was standing still looking at his cracked helmet in confusion. I stepped forward, leaning into a beautiful right cross. His head almost spun around from the whiplash. The sound satisfyingly echoed in the room. “All right, what is it? Think everything is done here.”
“Ummm…no, I don’t think it is.” Neon sounded very meek. “There’s more of them…a lot more.”