Sure they are tuff looking and they have teeth and claws and all but they are not super bad guys. They are not going to attack you and carry you away unless you live in a ferry tail. Mostly they are shy. The TV show I saw was clear about this—nobody gets killed by wolves. Nobody. You are way more likely to get hurt by a cow than a wolf. Cows are mean.
So I am surprised to see this wolf but not worryed at all. OK maybe a bit.
Hi there I say. I test my wet leg. It squelches but it still works. There is ice on my skate blade. I bend down to slide it off. The wolf is pacing a few feet away from me.
Good dog. That sounds wrong as soon as I say it. Wolfs are like dogs but they are not dogs. No way is this a dog.
I think about Little Red Riding Hood. How old is she—like 8 or 9? Just a kid. This wolf would take her and her gramma easy.
I have the ice off my skate blade now. I am shivering pretty good. I have to get out of here. My foot is soaked but I can still skate.
Bye bye! I say and start off slowly. The wolf moves in front of me. If I keep skating I will hit it so I stop. The wolf stares at me. I take off to the left thinking I can go around the wolf. It moves again. Without trying really hard it gets ahead of me. It can move faster than me. Its pads and claws work better than my tired legs and dull skates. But why is it doing this? Does it think we are playing a game?
Go away! I say.
Stupid wolf! I say.
The wolf looks at me and yawns wide then turns away and lifts a leg to pee.
I am not going to let this animal stop me. I have to get to the other side of the river. I head a bit left and so does the wolf. Then I push off hard as tho I am going to go farther left only I cut back insted. Its a fake—like I am playing hockey and the wolf is a defense man. I am past him! The wolf falls for my fake and there is only 1 more island befor I get to Canada.
I am heading a little to the rite of where I was befor but so what. The wolf is running 2 but he is not trying to get ahead of me any more. Now we are running in the same direction. What do they call that—paranormal? No thats a movie. Something like that. I know the word. I will think of it later. I keep an eye on the wolf and at the same time try to watch out for more holes in the ice.
Left. Glide. Deep breath. Rite. Glide.
Im tired and woozy from all I have been doing—getting in trouble and escaping and drinking that funny peach stuff and escaping again and freezing my leg—witch maybe xplains why I start to see things. Maybe I am getting sick. But I cant help what I see. The sky off to the left now has lines of ripples running across it. Rippling pink and green lites—what is that about? Am I crazy? And its brite out—almost as brite as day. I can see the wolf clearly. He has long legs and a thin body. Hes gray mostly with a black splotch on his sholder and another on his head like hes wearing a black scarf and hat. Have I said Im not afraid of the wolf? Thats not quite it. I dont think hes going to eat me but theres something about him. The way he lopes along kind of sideways. The way he checks me out and then shakes his head. We are still running parallel him and me. Thats the word—the same way but not touching. Hes tired like me. His mouth is open so he can pant. It looks like he is smiling at me. Does he like me or not? Not wuld be my gess.
The last island is small and roundish and it doesnt stick out of the ice very far. I pass close enuff to the island that I see the small green tree leaning over so far its branches are trapped in the ice. Shadowy and secret looking—and even more so in the pink and green lite.
Is it really pink and green? I blink. Yup.
I take a deep breath and get ready to head across the last bit of river. Thats when I see the jim bag—sorry gym bag. Its dark and its got handles and it is sitting in the shadows of the over hanging tree. I wuldnt of seen it if I had not been skating so close to the island. Huh I think. I dont want to grab it. Its probly yucky and I all ready have a gym bag. I take a stride toward shore and hear my name.
Bernard.
No mistaking—its as clear as clear. I stop short in a flurry of ice specks and look around. Nobody calls me Bernard. Spencer called me Bunny when he was a baby and it has been my name ever since.
Bernard.
There it is again. But theres no body around. Who is talking to me? The only person who ever called me Bernard was Grampa. He didnt like the name Bunny. I am used to hearing my name in Grampas voice and I do now. I gess its coming from inside me. I do feel kinda crazy come to think of it. Not bad or sick—just crazy. Bigger than normal if you know what I mean. My mood matches the sky witch is dancing with curtins of lite now.
Go and see Bernard.
Definitely Grampas voice but it is not coming from me. My mouth is shut—has been shut all along.
Grampa is that you? I say. Witch is stupid because it cant be Grampa. But who else sounds like him? Who else is around? Who else can I see? Just the wolf who has stopped running and is sitting down looking at me hard. He opens his mouth.
Yes Bernard says Grampas voice. The wolf closes his mouth.
Hoo boy.