The Wizard's Herbarium: The Wolf Child

Part 1

Colt drifted into town. He was haggard, but he knew it only because the people he ran into on the road said that - gas station cashiers, restaurant wait staff, and drivers he'd managed to hitch a ride with. The use of the word haggard would then be followed by unsolicited advice to get more sleep, or take a load off, buddy, pal or friend. Colt would nod while he stared past them with glazed-over eyes that didn't see.

He slept in motels on days he didn't meet people, or he felt like being alone. People were kind, especially fellow travelers. They'd offer him food, sometimes just soup heated on a miniature camp stove, or a home-cooked meal. Colt was as grateful as he could be, staying to listen to their stories and singing their songs until he was sent on his way again.

It was the middle of the afternoon when the latest ride he hitched with stopped in a town to get gas. Colt got out of the car to stretch his legs as they were beginning to cramp. Old age, he guessed. Was he even old enough to call himself old? 

The place had a sleepy silence without the continuous hum of traffic noise like in a big city. The gas pumps were outdated and Colt was glad he didn't have to fill the car because then he would have had to ask someone how to use it. Chatting it up with strangers wasn't exactly high on his list of priorities those days.

The gas station looked like it was built a hundred years ago. It had a bottle depot attached to it. Colt could see a storage area next to the gas station that used to be some other shop, or whatever they would have had there a hundred years before. A shack a few feet away claimed to be home to some ice cream, but Colt didn't have a taste for the store-bought stuff anymore.

A van with slashes of rust up the sides pulled up to the pump next to him, and a man got out of it, looking to be a handful of years younger than Colt. He told the dog in the backseat to stay before giving Colt a nod and heading inside. The man had left the windows on the drivers side of the van down.

Colt watched the dog peer at the storefront. It waited patiently for about ten seconds, which was about as much as it seemed to be capable of handling. It jumped out of the drivers side window and was at the door to the store. It seemed friendly enough, wagging its tail at a few people trickling out of the store while another dude in a pickup pulled up.

Must have been quitting time. Colt got the feeling that this was the town's rush hour.

The man in the pickup - younger than Colt in a way that made him feel suddenly old - didn't watch his back and the dog slipped into the gas station after him. It made Colt smile, the way the dog realized its opportunity and took it, wagging tail and all.

"Jeeze, buddy. You can't do that." The owner of the dog was already making his way back out of the store, the dog following him happily. He chided his pet, but his tone made a darkness creep into Colt's gut. 

Colt couldn't really remember what happened in the minutes that past. He guessed the man with the dog drove away and Colt's ride came back. A shaggy-looking guy with long hair and sleepy eyes.

"Guess I'll start looking for somewhere to stay," he was saying, and Colt found himself unable to remember his name. "Maybe in the next town or something. I want to get a little further before I stop for the night. How far you going, friend?"

Suddenly, the thought of getting back into that car made him feel claustrophobic, like the air around him was trying to suffocate him. There was no good reason for this feeling other than it was just what happened lately. 

"Actually, I think I'll stay here," Colt said, reaching to grab his bag from the backseat of the hatchback.

His ride raised a brow at him. "You sure? Doesn't look like there's much here."