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Story by William Falo

 

Eli pocketed his wolf hunting permit, and gritted his teeth when he shoved his way past the protesters that made mock howls at him. One of them in a wolf suit stepped into his path, and howled into his face. He shoved the person backwards until they fell. Someone pushed him, and tried to grab the permit out of his pocket. He turned and saw a nightmare of angry faces, and not one of the other guides backed him up. The person in the suit started to stand up and tried to adjust the eye sockets, which had became blocked when the suit twisted after they fell. "You're real tough; shooting defenseless animals from a plane. You jerk," someone yelled from the back of the crowd.

His face turned red and he clenched his fist. The person in the suit tried to get up, and then grabbed his jeans. He kicked their hand away with repetitive kicks, until he heard the sound of crying. He looked down and saw the wolf person's foot. The suit didn't include paws, and the toenails were painted purple. "Stop," someone yelled; while others stood in shock. He walked away with howls following him down the street.

The line of wolves walked through the meadow below his cabin. They looked up when the wood creaked beneath his feet, and he stumbled over a broken plank. The binoculars shook in his hands when he aimed them at the bouncing wolves. He held them tighter when some of the pack started to play. A few of the smaller wolves tumbled down a hill in mock fighting, and a smile crossed his face. His favorite wolf trailed the others due to a wounded leg. Its white-tipped tail brushed the ground when it walked. They faded away when the sound of an approaching jeep scattered the wolf pack into the Alaskan wilderness.

"Eli!" a man called out while jumping out of the jeep.

"Yea, what's up?"

"Did you get your permits?" He limped toward him.

"Yep. There were protestors."

"I know. Damn animal freaks. They'll give up in time."

"I don't know if I want to go through that again." He remembered the purple-toed wolf mascot.

"You know how much money the hunters are paying you to guide them. Look at this place; it's a disaster. When winter comes, it will fall apart. You'll never make enough taking fisherman out. Hunting is where the money is; and wolves are the biggest money maker."

Eli looked up at the cracks on the walls and roof. The wood below them splintered in spots.

"What are you looking at?" He pointed at the binoculars.

"Nothing," he said and turned away. Jason stared into the meadow. A wolf flashed between
green bushes.

"They're right below you. Shit, you'll make a fortune. You can then use that money to buy a plane. Aerial hunting is the way of the future."

He huffed and nodded when Jason jumped into the jeep.

"Your father would be proud of you: becoming a hunting guide just like him. He wanted that for you."

Eli watched the jeep fade away into the distance. He noticed the purple wildflowers still on the side of the road despite the oncoming winter. Where did they come from? His mind drifted to the purple toenails; and when the jeep vanished, he kept staring in the direction of the town.

The silence of the night lured him into thought. The result was loneliness. He drove toward town despite needing sleep; in a day the long hunts would start. A group of men from Los Angeles were due the next day. The aerial hunts were booked up; so they took him. His walk-in adventures took longer, and he didn't guarantee success, but they were desperate. They all wanted wolf pelts on their walls to brag about how strong they were.

The heads of various animals sat in a pile out back. Their eyes stared up in disbelief from being killed by an invisible bullet. Once his father died, he removed them; but he never lit the match to send their spirits to heaven in a puff of smoke. He put the picture of his mother on top. The thought of her leaving with a hunter from Texas made him angry. No letters ever came, despite her promises to send for him.

The Northern Lights Club lit up the dark road with signs that flashed green and purple. Cars and pickup trucks filled the lot. The club attracted both locals and outsiders due to its mixture of music and sports.

The sound of laughter made him pause before entering the bar. It sounded like memories of his past: his father laughing at him when he couldn't lift a dead dear's head, schoolmates laughing when he couldn't spell, and the girl from town when he asked her for a date.

He ordered a beer and stared at the football game on one of the televisions scattered through the bar. He frowned when he noticed that it was the Dallas Cowboys. In a corner, he saw a group of people set off from the rest. A girl with dark hair smiled, and sipped wine. The light from a candle created sparks in her eyes. Hypnotized, he realized that he was staring at her.

His cheeks turned red and he looked away, and then started to get up. When he turned around the girl stood there. "Where are you going?"

"I'm leaving."

"Not until you tell me why you kept staring at me."
He stepped backwards and put his hands in his pockets.

"Well…" she said. He noticed the dark eyes that sparkled in the candlelight also sparkled in the fluorescent lights. It reminded him of a wolf he once saw in his flashlight. Its yellow eyes had sent goose bumps up his arms before it darted off.

The goose bumps spread up his arms again; he rubbed them to try to make them disappear. "Your eyes sparkled like diamonds in the moonlight."

She remained quiet for a long time, while he continued to rub his arms.

Finally, she sat next to him. "That's about the nicest thing I've heard in this town. I'm Julia."

He opened his mouth, and then closed it. He didn't want to tell her that he read it in a poem somewhere.

"Do you live in the town?"

"Snowshoe. No, up on the mountain."

"Cool, you must see a lot of animals."

"All the time."

"What kind?" She moved closer to him.

He knocked the glass of beer over. The bartender cursed and wiped it up with a stained-covered rag.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

"Sure," she said, "a white wine."

"And another beer," he said.

"Haven't you had enough?" she said and laughed.

He laughed too.

"What kind of animals do you see up on the mountain?"

"Deer, fox, mountain goats, bear, and wolves, sometimes."

She stopped him by putting her hand on his shoulder. Sparks spiked through his body causing his hand to shake. "Wolves," she said. Her hand remained on his shoulder. It felt like it was on fire.

"Yes, all the time."

"I love wolves. I am here because of the aerial hunt. A group of us came from Fairbanks to protest. I go to college there."

He couldn't think straight, but knew not to mention the wolf hunting expedition. "Oh, I can show you them sometime."

She smiled and her eyes lit up again. She removed her hand, but it still burnt his arm. He was tempted to see if it left burn marks. "I would love that."

"Okay, when do you want to go?"

"Is tomorrow okay?"

"Sure," he said.

"I can meet you here in the morning. I have to go back to my friends now."

"Okay," he said.

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek at the same time the television announcer yelled,
"Touchdown!"

When she walked away, he noticed that she wore sandals despite the cold night. He gasped. Purple toenails flashed when she walked. She was the person in the wolf suit. It can't be. He kicked that person violently. It was her. Oh my, God. He could never let her find out.

When the applause died down, he walked out of the bar.

The gasoline covered the open eyes of the stuffed animals in a glaze. He threw the match on it and watched it flare to life in the darkness. The eyes of a bear seemed to fill with tears before it melted into ashes. He walked away while it burned, unable to watch their destruction. While the fire crackled, he thought he heard crying.

In the distance, a single wolf howled a mournful call. It seemed to know what would come when the aerial hunt began.

He drove into town, after shaving and using ten-year-old cologne. The girl stood outside the Northern Lights. Her dark hair tied tight behind her head made her look even more beautiful than before. Her face was bright and smiling when she waved to him. He got out, and another car pulled up.

The window went down and a man leaned out. "Eli?" he said.

"Yes," he said.

"I recognized you from your ad. We're here for the wolf hunt. We're from Los Angeles."

"I'm…." He couldn't say anything else.

Julia stared at him. "You're hunting wolves? But you told me..."

"I'm sorry."

"Wait; I recognize you. You hit me. You're the one who knocked me down the other day."

"But, I didn't mean too."

She ran down the street, and he heard the sound of sobbing despite the engine of the car.

"Well?" the man in the car said.

"The hunt is cancelled."

"You must be joking. We came all this way and gave you a deposit. We'll take you to court!"

"Okay. Hold on. Follow me," he said, and got in his truck.
He led them to his cabin. "You can stay here."

"This is a dump," one of the men said. The other remained quiet.

"It's hunting. You're not on a tour."

"Okay," they said.

"I'll be back."

"You can't leave us here. We want to hunt wolves."

"I'll be back. I have to get something in town. You can start hunting on the other side of the river. Cross the bridge and walk until you see a green marker, and then keep going for a hundred yards. There is a large pack in that area."

"But we paid for you."

"Then you can wait."

"Let's go," said the quiet man.

He went into town and looked for Julia. A few protestors gathered outside the permit office.
There was no one in a wolf suit. He got out and entered the office. "There are men hunting on
protected land up by my cabin."

"Why didn't you warn them?"

"I did." He lied, and knew it would cost him his hunting permit.

The man picked up a radio and called a ranger to investigate. Despite the legal wolf hunt, you needed to carry a permit and stay in certain areas. When he left, only a few protestors walked around. "Does anyone know Julia?"

"Yea, I do," a girl said.

"Where is she?"

"Down at the airfield. Some people went there to protest."

His truck screeched around the corner and bounced over ruts in the dirt road. A few planes
taxied on the runway, while another one unloaded their gear. Draped across one wing were three gray wolves. Their mouths hung open; never to howl again.

The girl sat on a bench, the head of her wolf suit in her lap.

He approached slowly. His hands searched deep into his pockets for words to say. She looked up and started to leave. "Please, wait."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you or kick you." He looked down.

She remained quiet.

"I was upset. I needed money and listened to the wrong person." He looked up, and noticed her eyes lost the sparkle but glistened with tears. "I'm not taking the men hunting. In fact, I set them up to get in trouble for illegal hunting."

"Oh," she said and walked away. "I hoped you were different than most people around here."

"Can I show you something? I promise you'll like it."

"You hurt me." She looked at the wolves lifeless bodies slung over the plane's wing supports.

"I'm sorry. Please, let me show you something tonight. Give me one chance."

Another plane unloaded dead wolves. One with a white-tipped tail flopped onto the ground.
"Oh, no!" He fell to his knees, then got up and saw his father's old friend get out. He charged the man.

"Eli, did you come to help?"

"You killed that one near my cabin. I followed him since he was a pup."

"You're crazy. You wanted to hunt wolves too."

"No, I didn't. My father wanted me too. I wanted to show them to people."

"Well, your father was right."

"No, he wasn't. He never cared about what I wanted to do."

He walked away. Julia followed him. They drove up a curving road to his cabin. He led her around back, past the ashes from the fire, as the sun set. At the edge of a path, they sat on a fallen tree overlooking a meadow below them. Giant snow flurries drifted down like pixie dust.

"Is this it?" Julia asked.

"Wait," he said. He said a silent prayer.

A lone howl broke the silent night. Another one followed from a distant ridge. The howls filled the night around them. Below them, a pack walked into a clearing with one less member. He pointed down to them. Julia looked with her mouth open. She then reached her hand out and touched his arm. "This is beautiful," she said. The electricity of her touch sparkled through his body, and seemed to ignite the sky as the northern lights flared over head.

William Falo © 2010

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William Falo's stories have appeared or are forthcoming in Skive Magazine, Delinquent, Delivered, Mississippi Crow, Bottom of the World, Cantaraville, 34th Parallel, Skyline Review, First Edition, Foliate Oak Review, Oak Bend Review, Four Branches Press, The View From Here, and many others. He has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.