The Amazing Wolf Boy

Part 61 - On Safari

I gathered the empty cartons, carried them to the kitchen, and dumped them in the garbage. Then I closed the bag and carried it to the can behind the shed, my unofficial chore. I felt strong and competent. I looked at the darkening sky, reaching with my senses to Mother Moon. Soon I would embrace her once again.

Uncle Bob waited for me at the truck. I got in and opened the window. It was too nice an evening not to let the wind blow. I settled back, not even minding his lack of music.

He took back roads through fields of tangled scrub and pine. We passed a campground—a nice one with landscaped berths for the RVs. I remembered the old camper in Brittany's front yard and wondered if this was where Grandpa Earle took Butt Crack when Brit's family first moved down.

With my eyes half open, I breathed deeply. The air filled with mingled scents. Deer. Gator. Giraffe? I sat forward.

"Do you recognize where we are?" Uncle Bob asked.

I nodded. "We're near the safari park."

"That's right. Tonight's all about identifying scents. Not killing. We kill to eat. You've already had dinner."

"Gotcha." I bounced with excitement like a little kid.

He turned down a road bordered by a rusted chain-link fence. There were coils of barbed wire at the top and No Admittance signs every few yards. Beyond the fence stretched a wide field. The grass was long and yellow with drought, dotted with islands of Australian pine.

I heard faraway parrots, peacocks, and monkeys chattering in three-part harmony. Then I heard a deep-throated roar. "The lions are hungry."

"Probably. They're fed in the morning. Nine-thirty sharp."

"How do you know that?"

"It's one of the attractions. Everyone wants to see a lion eat."

"Will we see lions tonight?"

"From a distance." He grinned at me. "We'll see lots of animals, although the handlers move most of them into pens for the night."

"Like cowboys on a cattle drive?"

"Around these parts, zookeepers use Jeeps to round them up. It's not a big deal. Animals are creatures of habit. They practically put themselves to bed. Take the giraffes, for example. Every day when it starts getting dark, they mosey down the trail to the barn and dinner. Pavlov's response."

"Sounds like a cushy life."

"I think they're well treated."

"But they're supposed to be wild. They're so domesticated," I said, wondering where I got that word.

"These are expensive animals," Uncle Bob said. "They need to be kept safe."

"From predators. Like us."

"Thieves, more likely."

I thought about it and nodded.

Ahead, I saw a dingy white van parked on the grass. Uncle Bob pulled behind it. I closed the window and jumped from the truck just as a woman climbed from the driver's seat of the van. The redhead I saw before.

She was of average height and bone thin with a mane of flyaway curls. Not particularly good-looking. But when she saw my uncle, she smiled, and it transformed her face. She had a wide mouth, showing even her back teeth. It made her look friendly and easy-going.

Uncle Bob hurried me toward her. "This is my nephew, Cody. And this is Rita."

She turned her dazzling smile on me. "I'm happy to meet you, Cody."

I took the hand she offered, and a sense of otherness struck me. "Uh," I said with my usual wit. She was a werewolf. A she-wolf. I grinned, proud of myself for figuring it out so fast. I was getting pretty good at this. "Nice to meet you, too. Do you live around here?"

"Just passing through, I'm afraid." She motioned at the van, giving me the impression that she slept in back.

It's strange, but when I saw her with my uncle on the porch that night and thought she was moving in, I felt like she was an intruder. Now that I knew she was a wolf, I was happy to have her live with us. I would have said so, but it wasn't my place.

"Shall we?" Uncle Bob slipped his arm around her waist.

They walked to the fence. My uncle opened a slit in the chain link. It was so well disguised by the fence post, I hadn't noticed it. Rita crawled through on hands and knees, and I followed. My uncle came last, tucking the fence behind him so the hole vanished again.

I faced the stiff breeze and caught a nose full of exotic scents. This was going to be a great night. We walked together across the open field. I figured it was a sort of buffer zone between the zoo and the real world. Gnats and mosquitoes rose from the grass. Stars sprinkled the sky.

"It's almost here." Rita took my uncle's hand. "Can you feel it?"

I could. The moon was cresting the horizon. Its presence was a warm wash of water bathing me.

"Head in that direction." Uncle Bob pointed toward a group of trees.

We stepped up our pace. The copse formed a little island in a sea of grass. Dry palm fronds hung low, creating a shelter. A bird took flight as we entered.

"I'll change over there." Rita's fingers slipped from my uncle's grasp. Her smile lit the darkness. "You can't expect me to disrobe in front of your young man."

"I don't mind," I stammered.

They chuckled, and my face went red. All I meant was I would have turned my back.

But she disappeared in the bushes. My uncle stripped off his shirt, so I did the same. I felt hair sprout from my knuckles.

"This isn't our usual spot," Uncle Bob said in a gravelly voice. "We'll have to remember where we left our clothes."

He shifted into a wolf almost before he got the last word out. I was aware of the wet, gloppy sound he made. It really was gross. I closed my eyes and allowed the moon to take me. My face stretched, and my legs twisted. The pain was excruciating—but only for a moment. When it was over, I shook myself from head to tail.

Uncle Bob lifted his leg against a tree, marking it. I thought it was a good idea. The scent would help us find our way back. But before I could follow his example, Rita stepped out of the bushes. Her coat was reddish, and her eyes were gold. She was more beautiful as a wolf than a human. Uncle Bob nipped her ear in greeting, and she nuzzled his chin.

I felt embarrassed. Pushing through the palm fronds, I left. Somewhere, the deer and antelope played. I headed toward their scent at a trot. After a moment, Rita and my uncle caught up. We came to another chain-link fence. It was three times as high as normal. On the other side, I saw a steep trench. Trees grew inside, but the gorge was so deep, all I could see were their tops.

A dirt road ran along the outside of the fence. It led to a padlocked gate. I noticed the gate was the only spot that didn't have barbed wire. The road passed through, built up like a bridge across the ravine.

Uncle Bob leaped twelve feet to the top of the gate and clambered over. Rita went next. Giving an inward shrug, I followed, surprised at my ability to jump so high. The dirt bridge had chains stretched over it, evidently to catch the hooves of wayward grass-feeders. We picked our way through it. And just like that we were on the savannah.