Chapter 12
It was fall break and I was sitting on the porch waiting for Amber. Her mom had given her some money to get some pumpkins and Amber wanted to carve them. While Tavia and I started out as fast friends, I felt a deeper friendship cultivating with Amber. Amber liked meaningful conversations and I found that quality lacking in a lot of other girls, myself included. It’s hard to open up and be vulnerable to another and Amber had that therapeutic quality about her that drew others in. I knew I could trust her and I hoped she felt the same way about me.
Anne was already gone. She had taken my advice and was going to deliver some cupcakes to Jericho and Reece. She didn’t want to approach Jericho under pretense but I suggested she might want to ask if Reece was available for some work around the house and that asking him might make it easier for her to reach out. I didn’t know if she would follow through with it but I was surprised when I heard her on the phone talking with Jericho. She didn’t sound the least bit nervous to me but when she got off the phone she was almost shaking. “I don’t know how people manage to do this. I wasn’t even asking him out and I was so afraid he would say no.”
“But he didn’t, right?” I said, encouraging her.
“He was shy, but told me he would be happy to see me.” Anne was looking at herself in the mirror, obviously trying to calm her nerves. Her elegant hands were smoothing her rich, auburn hair into place. “I would take you with me for emotional support but I need to do this by myself.” She sounded like a young girl and I found myself reassuring her. “You’ll be fine. He could have said no but he didn’t.”
“He was only being polite,” she suggested, obviously feeling insecure. She turned to face me. “I’m sorry, I sound like a child. You’re right. I’ll be fine. This is nothing to get so tense over. They’re only cupcakes, not a commitment.”
In an effort to keep from giggling I bit my lip.
Anne scooped up her black purse and slipped into some knee-high boots. She grabbed a scarf and headed for the door.
“Have fun,” I called out as she reached for the knob. She turned and winked at me, locking the door behind her.
That was over an hour ago and I was rocking back and forth on the porch swing and breathing in the autumn air. A few minutes later Amber pulled up in her mom’s small four door sedan. I waved at her and saw that she was reaching into her back seat. She seemed to be struggling so I ran down the steps to help her. She put a pumpkin in the passenger seat and got out of the car to reach for the other one.
“Are those big enough?” I laughed.
“They looked smaller among all the others,” she replied while reaching out to me for a quick hug.
With each of us holding a pumpkin we walked up the steps and put them down on a folding table I had set up.
“I’m glad it’s warm enough to do this outside,” Amber remarked.
I agreed and handed her a pen and a bowl and we both sat down facing each other.
“I think I have everything we need,” I said. “Do you want to save the seeds for roasting?”
“That sounds really good,” she replied as she began to draw.
“My aunt has macaroni and cheese in a slow cooker and she set out some iced tea.”
“Any cupcakes?” Amber asked, patting her tummy and smiling.
“Not here but if we get done early enough we can walk to her bakery and get dessert.”
“Works for me!” Amber enthused.
We made small talk as we drew on our pumpkins. I laughed at myself and my sloppy design, which was all too conventional, crooked mouth and all. Amber was far more creative than I was and she began cutting the shape of a moon and a cat into the fleshy round orb in front of her. Once we were satisfied with our work we perched them on the porch and went inside to clean up.
“It smells so good in here,” Amber announced. She looked around and followed me into the kitchen. We washed our hands and took the bowl of seeds and spread them out on the cookie sheet. I set them aside to dry before roasting and retrieved two red bowls from the cabinet. We served ourselves a heaping spoonful of macaroni and cheese and sat down by the bay window. While Amber was waiting for hers to cool, she looked at me thoughtfully.
“Willow…What do you think of Reece?” She looked down at her bowl, picked up her fork and stirred. “Do you like him?”
I swallowed a forkful of macaroni and took a sip of tea. “Of course I like him. He’s a lot of fun to be around.” Looking up at her I probed, “Do you like him?”
She was quick to answer. “I’ve always liked him but he sees me as just a friend and there is nothing I can do about that.” With a resigned expression she looked at me. “He likes you.”
It wasn’t an accusation but I still felt guilty. I thought about arguing but Amber deserved better than being patronized.
After lunch we grabbed our jackets and walked to the bakery. Along the way we talked about Reece and how she had known him since the fifth grade and had most of her classes with him since then. At one time he had been awkward but grew into his looks. Amber said she had loved him no matter what he looked like. She said she remembered Rebecca, Reece’s mother, and that she was pretty and soft-spoken. She was frail in many ways but accompanied her husband everywhere. She said they were in middle school when Reece’s mom died from a brain aneurysm. I thought of Reece and felt so much empathy for him. He had been through a lot...like me.
The bakery was open and Ben emerged from the back room. His skin was rich and dark and he had a beard which was beginning to gray. He also seemed to wear a genuine smile every time I saw him and today was no different.
“Hi girls; are you looking for Anne?”
“No,” I answered before flashing him a smile. “We’re here for sweet treats!”
“That’s what I’m here for,” he said, gesturing to the cupcake of the day.
“Oh, coconut! That looks really good! I’ll have one of those,” I told him. I turned to see what Amber wanted.
“I think I’ll try the strawberry crème.” She pointed to a cupcake smothered in pink frosting and garnished with edible sugar flowers.
Ben smiled at her and his dark eyes were twinkling. His dry, weathered hands reached inside a glass case and he retrieved the cupcakes while I broached another subject with him.
“Ben, I was at the coffee shop a couple days ago and the gentleman who works there said you had painted one of the portraits that were hanging on the wall...”
He handed the dish to Amber and kept his eyes on me while I talked.
“I never knew you were so talented,” I praised. “I could have stared at that painting all day.”
Ben smiled and rubbed the whiskers on his chin. “Thank you, Willow. It’s a hobby of mine. I’ve been painting since I was a teenager.” He looked out the window towards the direction of the coffee shop while I picked up a fork and started to remove the wrapper from my cupcake. “The man also said there might be a story behind it…”
Amber had taken a seat behind me and was already eating. She was mindlessly flipping through a magazine but I could tell she was paying attention to my conversation with Ben.
He started wiping down the counter as he spoke. “What I can tell you is that I’ve always had a fondness for wolves.” Ben’s voice lowered a bit. “Wolves are wild, cunning, intelligent, top-of-the-line predators. They are not easily fooled, run in packs, and are efficient trackers. Killing them is difficult; they are bloody hard to find. Wolves are the ultimate survivors.” He came around the corner and rested against the counter. “On rare occasions they can be a menace but they are without a doubt a loving and loyal group within their own.”
I listened intently to what Ben had to say. He stood up and walked to the window, mindlessly looking at the surroundings outside. “When I was ten we were living in Kansas; I had a fear of the dark at the time. It was a summer evening and I was sleeping on the porch with my younger sister. It was really hot and the air was thick with humidity. Mosquitoes were teeming about and every now and then we would hear the zap and see the light flicker as they were electrocuted. The porch was screened off and was the coolest part of the house. Our parents were already asleep and my sister was restless beside me. I could have sworn I saw a dark figure loom above us but I didn’t even hear her come in. My sister grabbed my arm but we were too frightened to move and neither of us could scream. Imagine that; being too scared to call out for help.”
Ben turned around to face us and walked over to our table where he pulled up a chair and sat down. “The figure inhaled deeply as if she smelled something that appealed to her. She looked deathly ill, but she leered at us with eyes so pale and hair so white I can’t even remember what I thought of her appearance. All I knew was that I was so terrified I couldn’t call out for my parents. Julia began to weep and the figure looked at her and with her long tapered fingers began stroking her face with those elongated white fingernails. She even hummed--a creepy lullaby at that--trying to calm Julia down. She looked at me and then looked at my sister. Her mouth curved into a wicked smile and she whispered, ‘So sweet,’ to Julia and began to pick her up in those long, thin arms of hers. Julia was holding onto my shirt but was pulled free. As the figure turned her back to me and began walking away with my sister in her arms I stood up, finally ready to fight. Before I knew it they were outside and I heard a low growl; it was so menacing my skin crawled.”
Ben shook his head at the memory. “The night was so dark I could barely make out the form. I saw the glint of amber eyes. I was so engrossed in what was happening I forgot to call out. The figure was facing the animal and she began to hiss and whine. She dropped my sister and I ran out to get her. Julia scurried into my arms and we retreated to the porch. I held her and stared as the animal bared its fangs and growled, forcing the figure to recoil. Then another pair of eyes appeared in the darkness, and another one after that. The figure began to wail and its shrieks roused my parents from their slumber. By the time they reached us, the figure had been forced into the woods behind our house and we could no longer see them, but we could hear...My dad reached for his rifle but my mother insisted he not go. My parents brought us into the house and locked all the windows and doors. We were never allowed to sleep on the porch again.”
Ben sighed, clearly absorbed in old memories.
Amber and I jumped when the phone rang.
“Excuse me a minute,” Ben said as he walked to the counter.
While he was talking with a customer Amber and I looked at each other.
“What do you suppose it was?” Her green eyes were wide with wonder.
“I have no idea,” I responded. “But he doesn’t strike me as the type of person who would make something up.”
“Nope, I wouldn’t make that up,” Ben said as he reclaimed his chair and sat down. “I know that was a long time ago but I believe that wolves saved my sisters life and whatever that thing was, she never came back.”
I was embarrassed he had heard me. “I’m sorry Ben.” The last thing I wanted to do was offend him by being insensitive or rude. “I didn’t mean to question you.”
He waved away my apology. “No offense taken. I know it’s hard to believe but I was there, I know what happened. Anyhow, I painted that portrait of the Grey Guardian, among many others, in honor of the wolves I believed had been our protectors that night. I’ve painted a lot of wolves in my time.”
“Why didn’t you keep it?” I asked.
“Painting it was enough. Now someone else can enjoy it.” His eyes twinkled at me. “And there are always bills to pay.”
Amber, who had been so quiet, spoke up. “Do you believe in the paranormal? If you had to guess, what would you say that figure was? Oh, and what about the ones who protected your sister, they were real wolves?”
Ben chuckled at Amber’s inquisitiveness and stroked his beard. “I would not describe myself as the tin foil hat type, no, but if I hadn’t seen what I had, I would have never believed it. The woman did not look right.” He enunciated the last two words so strongly it was apparent the memory of his encounter with her still shook him. “She appeared to be human but while she was elegant in a balletic way, she was so dang creepy she looked like a walking corpse, or at least that’s what my 10-year-old mind conjured. I don’t know what she had in mind for my sister but it couldn’t have been good. As for the wolves, they looked like real wolves, no bigger in fact, but up close they were unbelievably frightening.” He seemed to shudder just thinking about it.
“I believe you Ben,” Amber said. “There are things in this world that can’t be explained.” Turning to me, she sought my input. “What do you think?”
I looked from Amber’s face to Ben’s. “I have a hard time wrapping my mind around the concept of mythical beasts since the consensus seems to be that they are fiction rather than fact. I mean, if they really existed, I think they would have been proven to be so by now, don’t you?”
“But Willow, isn’t some lore based on truth, no matter how small?” Ben was politely challenging me. “Wouldn’t you say that some unexplained violence is the result of otherworldly beings?”
I shook my head softly. “Not really. I think that’s just something people tell themselves because they can’t bear to think humanity can be so monstrous.”
“Remember though,” Amber cautioned. “Ben experienced something firsthand and he might have more experience with this than we do.”
Conceding to them I rose from my seat, brushed the crumbs from the table onto my plate, and thanked Ben as he took our plates into the kitchen. When he came back out we exchanged polite goodbyes and turned to open the door. Ben called out from behind the counter, “Keep your eyes open girls, even in a place like this there could be things that go bump in the night.”
Amber and I exchanged knowing glances, bid him goodbye and headed back to Anne’s house. While we were walking Amber’s phone rang and she nudged me while silently mouthing Reece’s name.
From what I could hear it seemed as though they were making plans.
“Yes, she’s here,” Amber said. There was a brief pause as she listened.
“I don’t know. I’ll ask her.” Amber glanced at me while still holding the phone to her ear. “Reece wants to know if you want to go out with us next weekend. There’s a bonfire...”
“I’d like to check with Anne first but I don’t think we have any plans.”
Amber returned her focus to Reece. “I think she’ll be able to come.”
After a long pause she exclaimed out loud. “Oh really? I’ll pass along that bit of info.” She closed her phone and lifted her laughing eyes to meet mine.
“Dare I ask?” I prompted.
An amused grin danced around the edges of Amber’s mouth. “Reece’s dad was quite taken with your aunt.”
I clasped my hands together and smiled inside. I hoped it was true.