Wolves, Boys and Other Things That Might Kill Me (15 page)

I say, “I’m really surprised they didn’t let you do it.”

Sondra says, “I even made papier-mâché antlers.”

“And I’ll bet you looked great,” says Addie.

Sondra nods seriously. “This whole town is full of fascists.”

Everybody migrates to the park. It’s about twenty below and dropping fast. A thin mist of snow is falling. People are pulling out their flasks and six-packs to keep themselves warm. It’s cold even for West End and people are drinking hard.

We are all waiting for the mayor. He and his wife dress up as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. The party can’t start until “Santa” makes his big entrance on a horse-drawn sleigh and throws a premade snowball that is supposed to hit the tree and magically turn on its lights. The problem is that our mayor tends to warm up with a little too much Season’s Greetings before the show. I hope his aim is better than last year.

We don’t talk now because we have scarves over our faces, and it’s too cold to move anything that’s optional. Finally we hear the jingle of the sleigh, and the frozen people standing next to me cheer out of sheer relief. Parents take a layer off their kids’ faces so they can see the sleigh, and a few little kids start to cry.

Addie starts singing “Here Comes Santa Claus.” Sondra and I join her, even though our lips are frozen. Mr. Ashton makes a speech about “the joy of living with people you know and love,” then throws the magic snowball. He misses the tree but everybody cheers, and they turn the tree on anyway.

I see Eloise across the park with Aunt Jean. I wave and they wave back. No sign of Virgil. I can’t believe Eloise got Aunt Jean out in this cold. I wonder if Eloise is trying to kill Jean for her money after all.

We mill back over to Canyon Street, and two trucks covered in Christmas lights start off the parade. One has a sign on the grille that says THE SANTA CLAWS PARADE, and one behind it says BEARRY CHRISTMAS. I see Dad up the street with some of his hunting buddies. I wave, and they start making their way toward us.

A hay wagon full of frozen Presbyterians comes next in the parade, singing “O Come All Ye Faithful.” They hurl frozen saltwater taffy bullets into the crowd. The kids not maimed by this treat dive into the snow up to their eyeballs to dig out the candy.

I look down the street, and I see Eloise and Aunt Jean walking toward us. Aunt Jean is hunched over like a candy cane. I look up the street and see my dad coming toward me from the other direction. Even though I’m the one grounded from Virgil, it’s really our parents who aren’t speaking.

“This is awkward,” I mumble.

“I know. Did you see how they’re looking at me?” says Addie.

I look across the street and see Kenner’s drones standing together shooting hate stares at Addie. “Where’s Kenner?”

“He’s in the parade, I think. Look at them. I wish those idiots would just leave me alone,” says Addie. “I can date other guys if I want to.”

“Who are you dating?” says Sondra in an excited voice.

“Oh . . . I didn’t tell you? William Martin. He’s helping with the parade right now, but we’re going out after it’s over.”

“His brother?” says Sondra. “You’re going out with Kenner’s brother? He’s like twenty.”

“Yep,” says Addie. “But it’s all a mess out there today.”

“Oh, yeah?” I say. “I can’t imagine why.” I think of the two brothers fighting that day in the forest. William’s good to look at, but Addie must be out of her mind.

“It’s not me. Another wolf came right down into their yard last night. Right down to the pens. He said it wasn’t even afraid of him until he fired a shot.”

“I don’t believe it,” I say. “I didn’t read about that on any of the wolf pages today.”

Addie sighs. “KJ, geez. Do you think ranchers report that kind of stuff?”

I can’t think clearly to answer. Eloise and my dad are closing in. Eloise gets to me first. She locks her arms around me and says, “Have you seen Virgil anywhere? I haven’t seen him all day. And Aunt Jean here is a big liar.”

Aunt Jean smiles triumphantly. “Yes I am.”

“I haven’t seen him,” I say as I feel Dad step to my side.

“Hello, Samuel,” says Eloise.

“Hello, Eloise, Jean,” says Dad. “How are you?”

At least Dad is a gentleman. Which is more than I can say for Kenner’s friends, who are currently giving Addie the finger from across the street.

“Oh, can you believe this?” says Addie. “So immature.”

Eloise looks curiously at Addie but continues, “We’re fine, thank you, Samuel. We’re looking for Virgil.”

“Haven’t seen him since school got out yesterday,” I say. My dad looks at me suspiciously. “He was with Dennis.”

Sondra nods. “They were completely not in school today.”

Addie says, “Oh, who even cares what they do?”

Eloise shoots Addie another perturbed look. “Well, I do. I’m telling you anything can happen with this kid.”

“You seem kind of serious, Eloise,” says Dad. He may be a gentlemen, but that doesn’t mean he’s above sarcasm.

Aunt Jean says, “He should be along pretty soon.”

“He’s in the parade?” says Eloise. “Oh, heaven helps us.”

Aunt Jean smiles. “He’s using my Cadillac. Pulls like an ox.”

“Oh, look, it’s Stewie’s family,” says Addie, pointing to the parade.

In front of us there is a flatbed trailer with the manger scene. Stewie is sporting a shepherd’s tunic, a wool blanket pulled over his head, and ski mask. Nestled down in the hay, his sister is wearing an enormous parka draped in a lacy shawl. Jesus is a doll so he only has on a towel. Stewie’s dad is driving their hotel truck. On the side of the trailer there’s a banner that says THERE’S ALWAYSROOM AT OUR INN.

Four more “floats” come and go. I can hardly wait to bolt from Dad and Eloise.

I don’t really see the last scheduled “float” until it’s right in front of us. I’m too busy watching Jeff Dewey’s dog relieve himself in the street. Then I hear whistles and look up to see a truck full of men in camouflage, holding guns.

On the side of the truck are banners that say WHEREARE THEELK? Men are holding signs that say WOLVES ATE MY SHEEP. WHAT SHOULD I EAT? PUT WOLVES BACK IN WASHINGTON WHERE THEY BELONG! SAVE A RANCHER. KILL A WOLF. And THE ONLY GOOD WOLF IS A DEAD ONE.

 

Kenner has labeled himself THE EXTERMINATOR.

I turn to Dad and Eloise. Dad is stone-faced, but his buddies are clapping and yelling, “That’s right.” Eloise looks like she’s ready to draw blood. Suddenly I am surrounded by people cheering.

Kenner’s friends go ballistic, chanting, “Ex-ter-min-ator! Ex-ter-min-ator!” Kenner raises his sign over his head and yells, “Ye-ah!”

It’s like a dead wolf pep assembly.

Addie says, “He looks ridiculous.”

I can barely bring myself to look around, I’m afraid I’m going to hate my whole town. The float moves on and is met with loud cheers. No one has cheered this loudly for any other floats, not even for the frozen Presbyterians.

Sondra is openmouthed. “Could this town be any more backward?”

“They could stone women who wear pants, but they’re too damn busy painting their necks red,” shouts Eloise.

Dad’s friends go quiet. I put my head down. I feel trapped and ashamed of everyone. Then I hear jeering. Someone shouts, “Get ’em off the road.”

I jerk my head up hopefully, but quickly realize the people aren’t yelling at the truck of hunters. People are booing at a car following the truck. Then I recognize Jean’s Cadillac. Across the top of the car is a billboard that says WOLVES FOR A BETTER YELLOWSTONE. On the bumper is a billboard that says THEY WERE HERE FIRST.

 

Aunt Jean shouts, “There they are!”

Inside Aunt Jean’s gold Cadillac I see Dennis’s glasses, attached to Dennis’s grinning face. Next to him, also grinning, is Virgil. The windows are down and they are waving at the booing crowd like they just won Miss West End. Behind the Cadillac is a flatbed trailer covered in sculpted snow and ice. The project.

I turn and face Eloise, then Dad. Both look petrified. Only Aunt Jean is amused. I hear a few isolated cheers from the crowd. It’s hard to see, but I can make out Mr. Muir and his wife clapping wildly not far up the street. Next to them, the town librarian, Ellen Stevens, is politely applauding. And I see Gary and Deena Harper, the hippies who run the bike shop, cheering and holding up their lighters. Mostly I hear booing.

A bar of car spotlights rigged over the top of the trailer shine onto the most elaborate snow sculpture I have ever seen. There is a mountain ridge swooping down to a riverbed. Elk the size of cats graze next to a buffalo. There are ducks in the riverbed. There is an eagle on top of a giant icicle, so it looks like it’s flying. And in the center of the sculpture, dyed bright orange, are two wolves. They must have used a backhoe to get all that snow on there.

He’s out of his mind to drive this thing through the heart of town. But it’s brilliant.

Like an anthem, the wail of wolves comes booming from the car. The prerecorded howls fill the street and drown out the jeering crowd. I think everyone is finally looking at what Virgil has done. It’s so beautiful it can’t be real. The trailer glistens. Sondra and I go crazy. Even Addie cheers. A few other people cheer and clap. Then a few more. Then a few more.

Eloise shouts, “Virgil!” I don’t know if she is barking his name out of terror or pride.

Virgil waves at her, and then at me, as he passes.

I yell, “Go, Virgil! Go, Dennis!”

Then, in this perfect moment, where everything seems brilliant and possible, a shotgun is fired from the other side of the street. In slow motion I watch the center of the sculpture explode. The entire sculpture collapses. Inside the car, I see Dennis’s and Virgil’s heads tip forward. I scream and run into the street, followed by my dad. Virgil looks up. His face is bleeding. Dennis looks up. I keep running.

Then everyone is shouting and running.

Officer Farley rushes the car from the other side. A man in camo follows him and pulls Dennis out of the car by his coat. I can’t tell if the man is trying to protect Dennis or punch him. Officer Smith grabs the man, and the man hits Officer Smith in the stomach. Then everyone starts hitting each other.

Then everyone is shouting and running.

I can’t see Virgil in the car anymore.

Someone swings a fist past my head. I duck behind my dad. We keep moving. Then somebody connects with the side of my dad’s head and my dad goes down. I drop to the ground to get him, and my hand is immediately crushed under someone’s boot. I shove off the person’s boot and yell, “Get off me, you cow!”

I look up the leg and find a familiar face. Mr. Muir says, “KJ, my word. Are you all right?”

“Somebody punched my dad,” I say.

Mr. Muir grabs Dad’s hand and helps him up. “Samuel, you have blood coming out of your ear.”

Dad says, “I hit something hard when I landed.”

“You need to see someone,” says Mr. Muir.

Dad says, “What?”

I yell, “Dad, can you hear me?”

“Stop yelling,” he says.

Mr. Muir pats Dad on the back. He leans down to me and says, “Clean it real good, and I’ll drive him into Bozeman tomorrow.”

The fighting is over almost as quickly as it started. Most people leave in a hurry. I guess no kids will be sitting on Santa’s knee tonight at the pharmacy. I see Sondra, Dennis, and Dennis’s parents huddled together. Addie and Kenner are both gone. Kenner’s posse of morons is gone, too. I see Officer Farley and Smith cuffing two men and throwing them on the curb. But I see no sign of Virgil, Eloise, or Aunt Jean. I turn to Dad. “Did you see Virgil? I think something happened to his face. I think he was bleeding, too.”

Dad stands but tips to one side. He grabs on to me to steady himself. “Virgil will be all right, honey. It was probably just a stray pellet. If they’d been aiming at him he’d have more than a little blood on his face. But I hope the police find that fool with the shotgun before Eloise does. He won’t stand a chance.”

“I hope Eloise tracks that guy down and peppers him. I hate this whole town.”

Dad doesn’t seem to hear me. He looks down the dark street where Virgil’s car sits empty. The car door on Virgil’s side is still open. He covers his ear with his glove to stop the bleeding.

He turns to me. “Don’t blame everyone for the actions of one fanatic.”

Dad can say what he wants, but we both know there was more than one fanatic here tonight. There was a truck full of men wearing camouflage and a whole town full of people cheering for them. There was a street full of people hitting their neighbors. I feel like I just woke up in a town full of strangers.

Dad staggers again. “Just dizzy,” he says.

I put his arm over my shoulders, and we walk home in the broken flashes of Christmas lights that line the streets, mindlessly blinking.

SIDE EFFECTS

NO ONE ANSWERS the phone at Aunt Jean’s. I help Dad clean and pack his ear. It takes a long time. I get him ibuprofen, beer, two pillows, and seven blankets.

“Are you trying to bury me?” he says.

“You should be fine.” He doesn’t look fine.

“What was Virgil thinking?” he says, more to himself than to me.

“I don’t know. Maybe that he could show people . . . that wolves belong here.”

“With an ice sculpture? KJ, people that scratch to make ends meet don’t think like that. They don’t care about the idea of wolves, they care about their livestock, they care about staying out of debt. And for some folks, hunting is their religion.”

“But people do care about the idea of wolves. I mean, last year more sheep got killed by bald eagles than wolves, and you don’t see anybody shooting them in parades.”

“Honey, the kid’s got nerve, but what good did it do? Did he change any minds tonight? Did making a big scene do more harm or good?”