Ghost Wolf (Wattys2014)

Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Ghostly Legends

TV’s abrupt volume jumped me awake with a start. I rapidly glanced around the almost midnight dark room as I pulled on my dressing gown from its position over the mirror. Stumbling and tripping, I slowly descended the stairs with my pillow over my head, blocking out some of the sound. 

In the darkness of the lounge room, the TV’s flickering screen lit the hallway. Bruce was sitting on the sofa. He looked as though he hadn’t moved an inch since last night. The TV’s colouring reflected in his eyes and coloured his face, dulling as I switched the light on. His eyes squinted, questioning on my face for a long moment.

“You’re up early.” Finally, he spoke.

“You going deaf?” I shouted. His gaze continued silently questioning. “Of course I’m up! That thing is turned up to a hundred!”  After snatching up the remote, bees began ringing inside my head.

“I was listening to that!”

“You can still hear it,” I muttered, plopping down on the couch as I stared out the window and into the yard. The dark blue hue of morning was beginning to brighten as the sun slowly rose over the mountains. The morning birds began singing. 

With the word ‘wolf’ being spoken, my attention snapped towards the TV. On the screen a news woman stood in front of a mossy forest outlined in yellow tape. “CAUTION,” ran the tape’s length. The report kept my attention with its headline: ‘Murderous Wolf Strikes Again!’ 

I glanced to my Father sitting on the couch hunched over, leaning closer to the TV while being completely absorbed by the report. I shuddered as the camera flicked over the swampy area just down the road. Long red puddles of blood streaked the ground. A chill surged down my spine.  

“—another gruesome animal attack has been blamed for the death of a camper last night. Though it is uncommon for wolves to attack people without provocation, tracks were found nearby—“  

“What’s going on?” I whispered. From between the couch cushions Bruce grabbed the remote and sent the room to silence. The TV’s picture froze. 

“There’s been a rumour circling the Seattle area for three years now of wolves hunting down and killing people. Some say they’ve seen this one single wolf at the murders—one minute it’s there and then gone.”

I stared at Bruce’s face wondering if he was joking around or not. After a moment, he met my gaze. “They’re just rumours, Harper. Probably some druggies made it up.” He shook his head, but he hadn’t convinced me. And I didn’t feel persuaded that he believed they were just rumours, either.

“But … if it’s not wolves then,” I paused, “what is it?” My mind flashed back to the blurred movement in front of my headlights last night. 

“The natives around here call it Ghost Wolf, some paranormal animal.” He waved it off as nonsense. “In their legends his eyes are golden and he has an aura of aqua-blue. 

“He’s a spirit wolf—one of their own—protecting his land, people, animals and their wild life from harm. People seem to think since the law against hunting wolves has been lifted he’s shown up to warn us. The natives think it’s a warning from the spirits telling us not to hunt the wolves. It sounds crazy to me but there’s something out there...”

***

Repacking everything into the Honda was fun … especially in the drenching rain. Bruce said goodbye at the door and stood there waving as I backed out. 

Mom had been glad to announce I got into the boarding-school when I did. It had been the final days of school holidays when I left, so I didn’t miss any school on the long drive to Washington. I on the other hand, was evidently not so glad.

The wipers squeaked and threw the rain from my view as I hit the road. After five minutes, I realised how the road was strangely quiet for the time of morning when sudden grey movement rushed into my path. 

Panicking, I slammed on the brakes and sent my bag and luggage in the back flying forward. With a screeching halt the car stopped. The stench of rubber entered the vehicle. 

Stunned, I felt compelled to glance out the window to a cream-grey wolf stopping on the other side of the road. He shifted his large head in my direction. His unusual eyes of glowing gold held mine for a single moment before he took off again, running for the concealment of the forest. 

Shaking my head, I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realised I was holding and thought: there are plenty of golden eyed wolves, as I pressed down on the accelerator. Trying to forget was harder than I had expected. That wolf’s presence was something different, something almost consuming, an ever holding, unforgettable impression I just didn’t know what that ever lasting impression was—danger? Comfort? Protection? Loyalty? Again I shook my head as though trying to clear the confusion. Why was it so hard to pin point what I was feeling? Maybe my sense for danger and adventure was getting the better of me after just spending a night in this boring place. It was without a doubt, no New York City. 

On the drive to North Tacoma the heater dried my hair into a tangled mess and creased my freshly ironed clothes. Thankfully the rain eased the closer I got to the city.

I looked out the window while driving down North Tacoma Avenue. A massive red-bricked building came into view the second the GPS announced, “You have arrived.” 

Out the front of the building, I slid out of the Honda and gathered my bags from the back while marvelling at the site. The building stretched out for miles in an almost palace design. Lavender bushes lined the pavement out front. Behind them, neatly trimmed leafy brushes grew along a low black fence and its red-brick pillars. 

While heaving the luggage behind me I stepped up along a red path, letting my eyes explore the area. The trimmed lawn stretched even further than the building. Trees of different kinds grew on either side of the lawn.  On the left side of the property, the American flag waved and flicked in the wind. 

Over a brown wooden door, an indoor balcony faced the road.  A woman with a teacup in hand stood in front of the window before disappearing. I guessed I was heading up the path to the head-master’s office. Somehow the scenery reminded me of England: the old yet charming building style; the rain; the cooler weather and lack of sun. 

I began to wonder whether I had found the right place, but I didn’t stop to question it. Lady Ann’s seemed like a place I could enjoy.