The Wolf's Boy

Chapter Twenty-Six: There to Stay

Kismet shoved the last books into the shelf and rushed out of the back door. He brushed back his disordered hair and hurried to the sidewalk. He looked to the right and studied the pedestrians. But instead of looking at their faces, he was eyeing the ground. But the figure he was looking for was not there. He looked to his left just in time to see the flash of familiar color turn the corner. He picked up his pace and pursued determinedly. He made the sharp right and stopped. He turned in circles, straining, squinting, but he couldn’t see anything but passing people, carriages, and vehicles.

               Kismet tilted his head back, closed his eyes, and gathered his energy. The only thing that was holding him back for exhaling was the deep emotional energy. Memories and feelings flooded back. The smell of his mother’s homemade bread; the touch of Shirley’s hand on his face; and the smiling face of Jovie were as clear as when they had occurred. Kismet squelched the memories by released the two-note whistle. When he had ended, he bent forward, resting his hands on his knees. He waited.

               “I know you’re there! I saw you!” Kismet huffed. He raised his hand and made to whistle again before he saw two figures standing outside the church graveyard. The taller figure was a young lady with mousy brown hair and a sweet face. Her glove-covered hands rested on the white picket fence and her frock blew lightly in the breeze. She looked so gentle and peaceful. Beside her, so bold and so noble, was his wolf. He was stunned that the wolf didn’t come to him. In fact, he felt a pang of jealously and rejection. Kismet smoothed out the front of his shirt and tucked it in tight.  He tided his hair and cleared his throat. He stuck his hands into his pockets and limped over to the two creatures. He placed himself several feet from them and stared at Prestige, who did not once look up at him.

               Feeling disturbed from her routine, the young woman glanced over at Kismet and gave him a tight smile. Kismet knew she didn’t want him there, but he didn’t want to leave. Not without Prestige. The lady raised her eyes in surprise at his rudeness and turned to walk away. The red wolf stood up and followed her.

               Kismet felt a flame burst inside of him and he clapped his hands once. The wolf stopped and turned his yellow eyes to him. An ear turned in his former master’s direction. Kismet swallowed back the tears and walked up to the woman. Looking her in the eyes, he whispered, “Ma’am, I know this wolf. He belongs to me.”

               The young woman broke out in a grin and tilted her head. She propped one hand on her waist and studied Kismet so long, Kismet scratched the back of his neck in discomfort. He kept an eye on her in case she spoke. And when she did, what her lips formed made him somewhat envy of her. “The wolf is mine, sir. He came to me. I’m not letting him go.”

               Kismet took a step closer and knelt to the ground. He extended a hand and touched the ends of the red fur. The wolf moistened his nose and the ears flicked back once and then stood upright. Kismet knew Prestige was thinking.

               “Sir, please, what are you doing?” the young woman questioned as she fidgeted with the tips of her glove.

               Kismet broke the stare and stood up. He loosened his collar and tapped his throat to clear his voice. “I’m sorry. I had lost a red wolf. His name’s Prestige. He answers to my whistles because I can’t hear.”

               The girl nodded her head in understanding and shuffled her feet. “The wolf has been a great friend to me. I’ve been going through a rough time, and it was as if he knew what I missing. I can’t let him go.”

               “He saved my life when I was seventeen. I knew him when I was twelve. I’ve been looking for him.”

               The girl was silent. Her thoughts had gone to the corner of her mind; she couldn’t look away from Kismet. An unsure smile crept onto her face. “It’s you.”