Chapters 1 and 2 of "The Clearing"

<1>

"C'mon! C'mere boy! Come onnnnnnn – nobody’s going to hurt you." Dejected, she turned away and trudged back. "That's okay, honey," her aunt soothed, "We'll look at other dogs." Casting one final look over her shoulder, Elizabeth discovered the big dog was in front of the cage, peeking around the corner at their disappearing backs.
"Momma Jackie! Look! He wants us to come back!" Elated, she darted back to the cage and was greeted by a low whine and soaked with a tongue that would have been right at home on a Texas Longhorn. Sighing, Jackie made her way back to her niece and stood regarding the pair with dismay.
"Really, Lizzie. I know you like him, but he's so big – and he'll eat so much. Wouldn't you like to get a dog that suits us a bit better?" Nuzzling the canine's huge nose, Elizabeth put forth her best pout and rolled her eyes sadly, "But, I want him – he’s soooooo cute, isn't he?"
Jackie had never seen an uglier dog.
He was enormous and reddish brown in color. Eyes that were almost hidden by folds of drooping skin were framed by ears large enough for a bull elephant. His hanging jowls reminded her of a plump British colonel, except British officers seldom have strings of drool hanging from their mouths. Impossibly long legs and feet like saucers completed the questionable picture. Ugh, she thought. This brute in my house?
Just as she was opening her mouth to try one last futile protest, the beast stood up and shook his head violently, sending ears a’flapping, and covering everything within six feet with long tendrils of saliva.
“Hah hah! Oh, his ears! When he does that, they look just like the pancakes you make us in the morning! You know, when you throw them into the air? Flapjacks! That’s your new name fella. Flapjack! It’s perfect!” Throwing her arms around the monster’s neck, Elizabeth planted a wet kiss directly on the end of the newly christened dog’s rubbery snout. Jackie shook her head.
Doomed. She just doomed me, as usual. Just then, the assistant who led them back to the cages returned. “Can you tell us exactly what kind of dog this is?” Kneeling to give Flapjack a rub, the caretaker answered, “Well, we can never tell you exactly, unless the previous owners give us their papers. This fellow was an owner-surrender, but they left him tied up at the door. He sure looks like Bloodhound, but we can’t say he’s full-blooded.”
Bloodhound. Even the breed name sent a slight shiver up her back. Glancing down at the Kodak moment unfolding before her, she knew two things with equal certainty. She didn’t want the dog, and Elizabeth most certainly did. Sighing, she caved to the inevitable. “Ok. Let’s get the paperwork done.”
“Mommy Jackie!! Yaaaaayyyyy!!” As the youngster skipped about with unbounded joy, Jackie couldn’t help but smile.
This was the most life Elizabeth had shown in quite a while. For days after her parents’ death, she had remained in an almost catatonic state. During the following months, a slow thaw had taken place, brought on by careful nurturing and attention, and the close relationship Jackie had enjoyed with her sister and family paved the way for an easy adoption. Conditions were laid out in Loretta and David Jacob’s wills for Jackie to have immediate custody in the event of anything unforeseen, and from there, it was mere formality. Elizabeth moved into Jackie’s house, and was overjoyed to discover a bedroom decorated entirely in Dora the Explorer motif.
Employed as a professor of Entomology at a small university in Western Pennsylvania, Jackie Lowe had never made time for a man in her life. A pretty girl, she was flaxen-haired and petite. Limpid brown eyes gazed at her world with a combination of scholar and schoolgirl. There was no shortage of attention from various professors around campus – and some students too – but her life was her work, and her family. Originally from Clifton Heights, a suburb of Philadelphia, she travelled to western Pennsylvania as a child with her parents, and was struck by the country charms which enveloped the tiny hamlets and villages. When an opportunity to teach Entomology surfaced at Paxton University, Jackie leaped at the chance. Life here was simpler than the hustling burbs, and she had found contentment in minimalism.
In fact, the house she purchased was chosen more for location than anything else. Situated on a back country road, it boasted a large fenced yard with a brick barbeque pit, and immediately to the rear of her property was a large wood in which she could gather samples for her class work. The old farmhouse was a fixer-upper, but she hadn’t minded, since it furnished an everyday escape from civilization. Many weekends were spent slapping paint, laying tile and patching holes, but the result was a warm home she could call her own, and now its charm was augmented by the energy of her young niece turned daughter.
Jackie realized early-on Elizabeth shared her enthusiasm for anything outdoors. After moving in, “Lizzie” almost immediately became her assistant on frequent insect-hunting forays, and insisted upon carrying the backpack which held the specimen jars. She also assumed the duties of hostess for the frequent barbeques and lawn parties Jackie held, both for her students and fellow staff. Everyone fawned on little Lizzie, and she was quickly absorbed into the close-knit community small colleges often afford.
Jackie had been contemplating the purchase of a canine companion for some time, and thought it was only natural to have a wagging greeter at the door in such a country setting, so it wasn’t difficult at all for her adopted daughter to finagle a trip to the local animal shelter. After all, it was summer vacation, and both of them would enjoy the additional companionship. They did have Barlow, a Persian cat Jackie had owned since her college days, but he stayed aloof and distant much of the time.
Fourteen suggestions and one decision later, the two ladies were tripping happily about the pet store and picking out the various items necessary to provide the newest family member maximum comfort. On the drive home, Elizabeth insisted Flapjack ride in the front, and he took advantage of the treat by happily sticking his head out the passenger window.
The next morning, Jackie and Elizabeth piled into their Ford Explorer and headed for the veterinarian. As they drove, Elizabeth looked over with a bit of worry in her eyes. “Why do we have to take Flapjack to the doctor? He looks ok.”
“Oh, I’m sure he is, but I want Doc Barchfield to take a look at time. Who knows when he’s been treated for fleas, or had a rabies shot? We’re going to get old Flapjack up to date on everything, so we can make sure he’s all healthy and happy, ok?”
The good doctor gave the big dog a good going over, and then sat back and smiled. “Well, he’s in great shape, really. I don’t see any signs of fleas, his heart sounds strong, and his teeth are in good order. A little tartar on them, but nothing a couple good bones won’t clean. He’s hale and hearty, and strong as a horse. Weight is 105, which is about right. We’ll give him a couple shots for rabies, parvo, and distemper, give you some stuff for flea control, and you can be on your way.”
“Thanks so much, doctor. How old would you say he is?”
Prying open Flapjack’s mouth, Doc Barchfield peered in for a few moments. “It’s hard to tell when a dog isn’t very old, but I’d hazard he’s around three or so. Plenty of years left in this fellow.”
In due time, Flapjack had been absorbed seamlessly into his adoptive family. An enormous doggie bed now lay right below Elizabeth’s (although after Mommy-Jackie tucked her in, he always came up to sleep with her), and his food and water bowls were beside the kitchen table. Oversized chew toys and bones lay scattered about, and a doggy door was installed on the rear door, allowing him free reign to be inside or out. Even Barlow had been observed lying up against his bony head from time to time, while they all watched television in the evening. Life was good for both owned and owners, and as the summer progressed, they all enjoyed frequent walks and family outings to the town park. The party guests showered Flapjack with rubs to his belly or ears, and during the shindigs, his evening food bowl went untouched.
Mr. Flapjack had developed into the perfect pet. He was a gentle giant, and distributed nuzzles and slurps to everyone alike. He only barked when a stranger came to the door - discovering he was a stranger caused the fleeing postman considerable dismay - and his only desires seemed to be food, a scratch behind his ear, a bit of cavorting in the back yard, or a long walk.
It was, therefore, with some disquiet that Elizabeth came out the back door and discovered her dog sitting motionless, while peering through the chain link fence bordering the woods. As she watched, he moved neither limb nor head. Silent and stock still, with his head bent slightly to the side, he seemed to be listening. He remained in that position for several more minutes, and then seemed to shake himself. Turning, he spied Elizabeth and bounded happily to meet her. Wrapping her arms around his thick neck, she inquired, “What was it, boy? What did you see? Was it a rabbit, huh? Did you see a bunny?” Leading Flapjack back into the house, she failed to see him glance back over his shoulder once more.
Several days later, while the three enjoyed an after-dinner ice cream, Jackie mentioned casually, “You know, I have a new semester starting in a few weeks, and I have to start preparing. Why don’t you and I go out in the yard tonight and collect some lightning bugs? Then you can help me get them ready for my new class.”
Leaping up and grabbing dishes at the same time, Elizabeth breathlessly replied, “Sure! Let me get these dishes in the washer and we can go out!” And off she went. Chuckling at the energy of youth, Jackie entered the spare bedroom which served as her workshop and lab. Taking down several jars and her backpack, she prepared for their adventure.
“Elizabeth, honey, get two flashlights out of the drawer and make sure they have good batteries.”
“Ok!!” came the muffled reply, and within minutes, all was ready.
As they exited the house, Flapjack slipped by them, determined to be included. “Oh no, boy. We’re working here,” Jackie admonished.
“Oh, he’s ok, Mommy, let him come. He’ll be good!”
Jackie stopped in her tracks.
It was the first time Lizzie had called her mommy. Oh, she thought of her as such, to be sure, but had always refused to completely acknowledge her mother’s departure. Her attention diverted, Jackie wordlessly allowed the standoff to pass, and they were soon immersed in the business of catching the luminescent insects by the light of the full summer moon. While they gathered, Flapjack bounded playfully at the lights dancing about his back yard, and tried again and again to ensnare one in his snapping jaws.
He suddenly stopped short, his head twisting towards the woods. Trotting over to the fence line, he sat on his haunches and began to stare. “What in the wor…“ began Jackie, as a distant howl, full of power and defiance, filled the air. Her graduate work had been completed in the Gila National Forest of New Mexico, and had heard her share of coyotes yelping.
This wasn’t a coyote howl.
It was stronger - almost demanding - and certainly lacked the mournful lonely tone of a coyote’s lament. A low whine emanated from Flapjack, and he sprang up to pace back and forth, hunching his shoulders and sniffing ceaselessly. Another wail split the night air, this one a bit closer.
Turning to look over her shoulder, Jackie commanded, “Lizzie, honey, go inside. Everything is fine, but I think you should go in for a minute.” A third cry cut off any protest the youngster may have made, and the slamming screen door was evidence of her compliance. Turning her attention back to the woods line, Jackie considered the agitated canine for a moment. “Come on, boy. Let’s go inside. We got enough bugs tonight, anyway.” Just then, a faint rustling came from just inside the trees, and as her eyes snapped toward the sound, she could swear she saw a shadow flitting by an opening. Flapjack’s whimpering elevated and he was now standing with ears alert. Suddenly, he bounded forward, and cleared the fence in one leap. Jackie scarcely had time to scream his name before he disappeared into the blackness of the forest.

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When he heard the first Howl, he did not understand. He heard it not with his gigantic ears, but rather from within his heart. It was several days before the fateful firefly hunt, and Flapjack was lying in the hallway adjacent to the kitchen when it exploded inside him. He felt the strength of a thousand years pull him to his feet. Trotting over to the back door, he peered out over the moonlit back yard. There. Just inside the tree line, stood an enormous shadow. It was on all fours and unmoving, and the only evidence it was alive was two eyes glimmering silver in the pale moonlight. After several seconds, the shadow melted back into the trees and was gone.
Flapjack had felt uneasy since that day, and his restlessness grew as the moon progressed through its phases. On the day the one called Liz’beth found him in the backyard, he once again heard the Howls. They were all around him, but only inside him. He whined and rolled in the grass, but could not rid himself of their insistence. Images cavorted in his head, bloody running barking screaming, and then only gurgling. The creatures within his brain were calling to him, exhorting him to join them. As he lay panting and spent in the grass, for the first time he heard The One.
His voice was louder than the rest, and he neither yelled nor screamed. His manner was brimming with confidence, and awash with power. In some dim, forgotten language, he promised Flapjack that soon it would be time to leave the comforts of his life and lead the brotherhood. Free, wild – and immortal. When Elizabeth came up to Flapjack in the yard, The One’s voice faded, and the confused canine looked after him longingly.
The evening of the firefly gathering, the moon had reached its fullest stage. All day, the anxious dog heard snarls and hisses in his head. When he realized Liz’beth and J’cky were going outside, he almost mowed them down in his desire to be near The One. As he cavorted round the yard, the voices grew louder and louder until the first audible howl split the night, and he knew they were near. Part of him tried to stay and resist, but in the end, there was little chance of fighting. When the howl from The One split the still night, Flapjack gave over control. “Follow us, brother…your place is with us, free and leading our brethren. Come….come…come!”
As he landed on the woods side of the fence, he knew They were just inside the woods, and they wanted him to follow. Striking out towards the top of the rise, he could sense where to go, and what would be there waiting. On either side of him, flitting shapes darted among the trees, barely visible. Silver eyes glowed around him on all sides, but he was not afraid, only excited – his Master awaited him.
As Flapjack trotted into a clearing at the hill’s peak, several monstrous wolves emerged on all sides. Their coats were various shades of gray and charcoal, their eyes were sterling, and all were larger than he. As they formed a loose circle around the lone dog, a hush fell over the forest, and the wolves quieted at once. From out of the woods strode a beast unlike anything Flapjack had ever seen.
The One was of immense proportions. Towering over five feet at the shoulder, he weighed almost 300 pounds. The behemoth’s coat was the color of brushed silver, and his argent eyes gleamed with the essence of evil. Muscles rippled with insane power as he moved to the center of the circle, stood regarding his minions, and then the new arrival. As he leisurely started in Flapjacks direction, the dog could only stand helplessly and wait. Towering over the hapless mongrel, the mammoth creature looked in turn at each wolf about the circle. As his eyes fell on each of them, they prostrated themselves in the short grass and sank head to paw. He then turned his attention to Flapjack and emitted a low growl, fangs like small daggers, dripping and ready. As the cowering dog sank even lower on his haunches, the king wolf struck with blinding speed. Viselike jaws clamped on Flapjack’s neck, and as he was lifted from his feet, he could feel matchless power piercing his skin, then his soul. The One clamped down even harder, shook his prey as he would a rabbit, held him for a moment longer, and casually threw him across the clearing.
As the body slid to a stop, each of the five circled wolves stood, filed over to the inert form, and licked the wounded neck thrice. When all had visited the still dog, the circle was once again intact. Their leader stood at their center, and lifting his head to the sky, once again filled the night with an ear-splitting howl. As the cry died on the wind, one by one the subject animals bounded into the woods and were gone. The elder wolf cast one more glance in Flapjack’s direction, and then he too disappeared into the darkness.

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“Elizabeth, there’s nothing we can do right now. It’s dark out, and going to look for Flapjack in the woods is not a good idea at all. I’m sure he’s fine. He probably just saw a squirrel or something, and he’ll be back as soon as he gets tired of chasing it. Now, you need to get some sleep.”
“But mommy, what if he doesn’t come back? What if he’s hurt, and can’t make it back? We have to do something!”
“Now, there’s nothing out there that will hurt Flapjack. He’s a big dog, and can take care of himself. I’m sure when you wake up, I’ll be in the kitchen feeding him his breakfast. Try to get some rest for me, ok?”
“Well, ok, I sure hope you’re right,” and Elizabeth settled back under her covers as Jackie turned off the bedside lamp and kissed her on the forehead.
“Sleep tight. We have a lot of work to do with all those fireflies we caught tonight.”
As Jackie walked into the kitchen and began making herself a cup of tea, she was filled with trepidation. That howl had sent shivers through her whole body. The animal sounded humongous, and now their dog was out there too. She stepped out onto the back porch and peered around the moon-washed landscape. No sign of any movement, and the night was as still as death. No crickets, no owls. Nothing. Shivering, she turned to re-enter the house. As Jackie closed and double-locked the door, she once again wondered what had compelled him to jump the fence like that. She didn’t know, but of one thing she was certain; he was no match for whatever was in those woods.
As the first hint of light began to peek over the trees, Elizabeth appeared in the snug kitchen. “Is he here? Where is he?”
Wiping her hands with a kitchen towel, Jackie moved over to her daughter. “He never came back last night, Lizzie. But it’s almost light out. We’ll take a walk right after breakfast, and I’m sure we’ll find him.”
“No! No, no, no! We have to find him now!” And the little girl was out the door. Jackie hastily grabbed two coats from the hook beside the door and bolted out after Elizabeth. As she emerged onto the porch, her daughter was standing frozen at the top of the steps staring towards the corner of the yard. Glancing that way, Jackie could see a brown heap leaning against the outside of the chain fence. “Lizzie, you stay here – right here, understand?” Jackie raced over to the fence and climbed over.
The dog was a mess. Dried blood cascaded down his neck and over his chest and front legs. Burrs and twigs covered his coat, and he was filthy front to back. She laid her hand on his chest. Breathing, but just barely. Turning towards the house, she issued quick instructions.
“Lizzie, get the blanket off the foot of my bed, and grab the car keys. We have to get Flapjack to Doc Barchfield. Quickly, now!”
As the little girl disappeared, she again turned her attention to the injured animal. If he lived, he would be one lucky dog. When they pulled up to the veterinarian clinic, the doctor was waiting. Not wanting to waste one second, Jackie had called ahead on her cell phone to prepare him. They were immediately ushered into the operating room, and Flapjack was laid on the table. The attending nurse shooed them both out into the waiting room, and an interminable wait ensued. They both checked the wall clock every 15 minutes, and it was an hour before the old doctor emerged, his face creased in puzzlement.
“What’s wrong, doc? Is he ok?” Glancing over at the girls, the doctor shook his head, “It’s the darnedest thing. When you brought him in, I’d have sworn he didn’t have a prayer, but when I checked him before surgery, he really wasn’t in bad shape at all. Heartbeat is strong, and breathing is fine. He lost a lot of blood, but for all intents and purposes, he’s ready to go home. I cleaned and stitched the wounds – they were extremely deep and look like dog bites – but other than that, there was nothing else to do. Go on back and have a look.”
As they filed into the operating room, Flapjack was standing in the middle of the table and munching on a treat the nurse had given him. He whined when Elizabeth came into view and his tail wagged a greeting for them both. The little girl rushed over and threw her arms around his muscular neck with abandon. “Oh, Flapjack, you gave us such a scare. Don’t ever do that again, ok?”
Turning to the doctor, Jackie gave him a hug, “Thanks so much, doc. We owe you big.”
“Don’t thank me,” the doctor replied, “I don’t think I did much. The wounds should heal just fine. Bring him back in about ten days to get those stitches out.” With one more troubled glance at the hound, the doctor took his leave.
Back at the house, the ladies laid extra blankets in the dog bed, filled his food and water bowls, and attempted to put Flapjack down to rest. He would have none of it, and bounced around the room playfully, mouth a’barkin’ and tail a’waggin’. As he settled back on his haunches to regard his unwilling playmates, Barlow the cat made his appearance from the direction of the dining room. The moment his eyes fell upon Flapjack, he froze. He didn’t hiss, fluff up, or bare his teeth. He remained in position, one paw poised in midstride, his yellow orbs fixed upon the dog. As Flapjack became aware of the cat’s presence, he slowly turned his head. Rising to his feet, he gradually lowered his head and regarded the feline with a level stare. They both remained in their respective positions while both Jackie and Elizabeth sat transfixed.
The ring of the telephone jarred everyone out of their stupor, and Jackie stood to answer it. She kept her eyes on Flapjack, and observed he shook his head slightly, as if waking from a trance. For his part, Barlow seemed satisfied to offer Lizzie an opportunity to scratch his ears, but he cut a wide circle around the dog to do so. Jackie would later recall this was the last day the two pets would be seen in each other’s company.

<2>

“Why do you have to go? Why can’t someone else go instead?”
Jackie sighed and sat down to explain for the fifth time. “Lizzie, this is really important. Professor Larkin is a leading authority in my field, and I can’t pass up a chance to attend his seminar. It’s only for three days, and I’ll be back in time for Friday night pizza, I promise.”
“It’s not fair! Flapjack is hurt, and Aunt Monica doesn’t know how to take care of him right. Pleeeeeaaaaaase?”
“Honey, Monica knows how to take care of Flapjack just fine. It’s been two days since he got hurt, and he’s great. You like Monica, and she promised she’d bring her video games along. It’ll be fun!”
Monica had been Jackie’s college roommate. To their mutual delight, they both were able to land teaching positions at the same school. She was plump and jovial, and always favored whoever crossed her path with a kind word or smile. Italian by birth, she was also a phenomenal cook, and had minored in culinary arts. True to her word, she brought her Playstation, and as Jackie was stepping out the door, Lizzie was ensuring they play Mario Brothers first. Jackie could only smile; Elizabeth was a master in the art of manipulation.

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The seminar passed without incident, and Jackie was anxious to get home. Despite her assurances to Elizabeth, she had almost changed her mind about attending the course. Something was wrong, although she didn’t know quite what, and as she drove, she contemplated the possibilities. When she had found Flapjack bloody and half-dead, she had given him no chance for survival. But he was not only perfectly fine, but also unchanged. Except for the affair with Barlow. Jackie knew cats are attuned to things humans are not, and the feline evidently sensed something in the dog. Something he did not like.
As she pulled into the driveway, she still didn’t know quite what to think. Opening the front door, she was greeted by a thundering procession.
“Mommy! You’re hoooome!” whooped Lizzie, as Flapjack jumped and bayed. Monica came behind, beaming as she hugged her tightly.
“My, aren’t you the popular one. All Lizzie could talk about was your promise to be home for pizza night, so I went ahead and ordered it. Let’s eat!”
Drawing Jackie quietly to the side, Monica resumed in a lower tone. “When things get settled down later, we need to talk about something.”
Taking the time to look into Jackie’s eyes for just a moment, she was off to set the table for dinner.
Elizabeth was snug in bed, tummy full of pizza and ice cream, and Flapjack was draped across the bottom of her bed. As Jackie closed the door to the darkened room, the dog raised his head and she froze. His eyes. They were glowing. Well, not glowing maybe, but she could see them. They shone silver in the darkness, and as they followed her movements, she sensed something primitive – wild? in their depths. Changing her mind, she left the door ajar just a bit, and trotted down the stairs into the living room.
Monica was waiting with two glasses of wine. As they settled into the couch, Jackie inquired, “Did everything go all right? Did everyone behave? What is it you need to talk to me about?”
Her friend patted her knee reassuringly. “Everything went fine here. Elizabeth is a hoot, and we get along so well, you’d think we were sisters. And Flapjack was a good boy, too. But – I just don’t get it – the wounds you showed me. The stitches. They’re all gone. I mean completely gone. Heck, Jackie, even the hair has grown back over everything. You’d never know he’d been bitten.”
Jackie studied her friend, while sipping her wine. Monica was never one to exaggerate, but what she was saying was impossible. “How can that be?” she asked, “When I left, they were still red and wrinkled, I mean, they had started to heal, but – come on. Gone?”
“Go see for yourself,” her buddy returned.
Casting one more look Monica’s way, Jackie made her way to the kitchen, got a penlight flash from the drawer, and tread softly up the stairs. She peeked into Lizzie’s room and saw that Flapjack was watching her, eyes glinting silver. His tail wasn’t wagging, she noted, and as she moved slowly forward, it stayed that way. Although she could feel her insides tightening and sweat beading on her forehead, she tried to exude calm. Only when she drew very near did it started to move in very small circles. “Ok, boy. Let’s have a little peek at you.”
Bending at the waist, she turned the small flash on and looked closely at the offended area. And looked again. Frowning, she leaned over a bit more and looked at the opposite side. Petting the dog softly on the top of his head, she backed out of the room and trotted down the stairs.
One look at Jackie’s face affirmed what Monica knew. “See? I know it’s nuts, but you saw. And that’s not all, either. The sheriff was here last night.”
Jackie’s attention full on her now, Monica continued, “He and his deputy came by to ask if we’d seen anything or anyone suspicious. He told me a farmer about half a mile away found six cows of his cows slaughtered in his field. Their throats were torn out and they were half-eaten. And then, of course, he mentioned if we see anything, we should call him. His card is on the side of the refrigerator. Jackie, what is going on around here?”
Jackie Lowe’s face had long since drained of all color, and she sat with her head spinning. “I don’t know. Did he mention what night all this happened?”
“No, he only said we should stay inside at night, until he makes a little headway in figuring all of it out.”
Monica elected to stay in the spare bedroom that night, given the hour, and as Jackie lay alone in her bed, it took a long time to find sleep.
Breakfast was artificially cheery, for the sake of Elizabeth, and as soon as the dishes were cleared, Monica took her leave. Jackie gave Lizzie some small chores to do and picked up the phone.
“Sheriff Cutlip speaking,” came after two rings.
“Good morning, sheriff, this is Jackie Lowe. Have you any more information about what went on the other night?”
“Ah, Ms. Lowe, nice to speak with you. Well, yes, a fair amount actually. I’d like to come by your place to speak with you in person. What time would suit?”
Her nerves even more on edge now, “Well, we planned on being here all day. You name the time.”
“Ok, we’ll be out to your place about 11 o’clock. See you then.”
Jackie sat back to consider. What did the sheriff need to speak with her personally about? And who was “we”? There was only Sheriff Cutlip and Deputy Gibbons, and they typically worked alone. The more she thought, the more questions arose.
When the sheriff pulled up, Elizabeth ran to the window. “Mommy! There’s a police car outside!”
Walking to the door, Jackie glanced back over her shoulder as casually as possible. “It’s nothing, honey. Someone broke into a classroom over at my school, and the sheriff wants to talk with all the teachers. Watch your show, and I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Walking out to greet the lawman, Jackie spied another man in khakis and a polo shirt, who appeared to be studying the countryside around her house. As she approached, the sheriff walked to meet her with his hand extended. Of medium height, he was trim and athletically built. Clear blue eyes centered an aquiline nose, and he was immaculately shaven. He was around forty, his blonde hair was carefully cut military style, and a tattoo of a bulldog wearing a combat helmet peaked out from under the short sleeve of a crisp uniform shirt.
His manner was precise but friendly as he greeted Jackie. “Good morning Ms. Lowe. I’m Frank Cutlip, County Sheriff, and I want to thank you for agreeing to see us. This is my brother Adam, a professor of Zoology at the University of Pittsburgh.”
The professor resembled his brother so much they could have been mistaken for twins. However, he had a somewhat heavier build, weightlifters arms, and a deep chest. His hair was exactly the same color as the sheriff’s, but it was below his collar in length and pulled back in a ponytail.
After shaking the professor’s proffered hand, Jackie tried to keep herself calm as she waited for the sheriff to state their business.
“Ms. Lowe, have you heard or seen anything unusual in the last few days?”
“No, can’t say I have. It all stays pretty peaceful around here, which is why I moved out here in the first place.”
“Of course. Well, as you heard, we’re having a few problems with some livestock. Mr. Benninger discovered six of his prize dairy cattle slaughtered in his field, and the next night, an equal number were killed over at the Danka spread. In both instances, the animals’ throats were ripped out, and they died on the spot. Sorry for being so graphic, but we believe it’s of the essence folks around here are aware of the danger.”
As she looked from one man to the other, Jackie wrestled with the decision of how much to tell either of them. “What night, or should I say nights, did all this happen?”
“The first attack was one week ago today, around eleven o’clock at night. Mr. Benninger heard his cattle putting up a commotion, but he assumed it was dogs or some other kind of nuisance, and did not go check. An hour or so later, he heard what he swears was a wolf howl. The next morning, he found his cows. Sunday night, it was all repeated at the Danka’s. They also heard one howl, and then nothing.”
Professor Cutlip turned and spoke for the first time. “Ms. Lowe, we don’t want to alarm you, but the fact of the matter is, we aren’t quite sure what we’re dealing with. I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here. The sheriff found tracks around both farms and was unsure what made them, so he called me in to assist him.” Pausing to pull a photograph out of his pocket, he handed it to Jackie. It was the picture of a wolf.
“The tracks I saw belong to gray wolves, species Canis lupus – I think.”
“You think?”
“Well, the tracks are certainly the shape of the gray wolf, but there are – differences. Typically, the North American Gray Wolf stands about three feet tall at the shoulder, and weighs an average of 80 to 100 pounds. Given the depth of these tracks and the size, this pack averages about twice that weight. There are records of gray wolves weighing 175 pounds, but not many of them. And to have a whole pack that size – that’s trouble. There are some other discrepancies, as well.”
Taking a moment to fish a pipe out of his pocket, he glanced over at Jackie. “Do you mind?”
“No, by all means.”
“Thank you.” The professor thoughtfully tamped tobacco into the pipe bowl as he continued, “Typically, wolves are pack hunters. They single out one animal, preferring either young or unhealthy ones. A chase usually ensues, with the animals waiting until their prey tires, all the while nipping and lunging at its hindquarters to wear it out more quickly. When the unfortunate beast is exhausted, the wolves jump on it, tear out the throat, and stand back while their victim bleeds to death. Then they feed at their leisure.”
“Professor, I have a Masters in Entomology from Penn State. While completing my post-graduate studies, I took a number of Zoology courses, in order to be more comfortable in the wild. Not to be rude, but I’m well aware of the basic habits of wolves.”
Glancing at his brother, Adam drew a breath and continued, “Sorry – I didn’t know. These wolves didn’t act like they should, nor did the cattle. There was no sign of a prolonged pursuit. In fact, as far as we could tell, none of the cows ran at all. They stood still, the wolves walked up to them, and then bam! And instead of all the wolves concentrating on one or two animals, each of them pulled a cow down. Moreover, they each ate a cow – almost half a cow apiece. This was the case the next night at the Danka’s also.” Casting another troubled look his brother’s way, he finished, “Then there’s the big one.”
Jackie also looked at the sheriff, who continued, “One of the animals has paws the like of which I’ve never seen. They’re almost the size of my hands, and judging from the track depths, he has to weigh as much as a pony. If I hadn’t seen it, I’d not believe it.”
“The size of your hand? How can that be? Perhaps I’m being dense, but I’m unsure about what this has to do with me. Are you asking for my help in some way?”
Brother professor once again took up the thread, “It’s not often wolves get close to civilization. They will hunt in the hills and only come close to towns when wild game is scarce. Around this area, that’s not the case. Also, they will only come near a yard or pasture when there’s a chance of catching prey.” The briefest of hesitations, “So, we’re currently trying to figure out why five members of the pack seem to have been just inside the woods line adjacent to your yard for some time. We thought perhaps you saw something which might shed some light.”
Controlling her face very carefully, Jackie looked at the professor, then the sheriff. “I’m sorry, I don’t know anything. As you know, I’ve been away for several days, but while I’ve been here, there’s been nothing suspicious. It all sounds horrible, and I wish I could help. It seems you have your hands full.”
“Indeed,” the sheriff replied, “well, should you hear or see anything, please call us right away. Sorry it took so long to get here, but we’ve been covering this from all angles and there’s only Deputy Gibbons and myself. Please limit your outdoor activities until we can get a handle on this, and refrain from going outdoors at night. Adam is staying with me for a while to help me sort this all out, and we’ll keep everyone informed as we make progress, best we can. Good afternoon, ma’am. It was a pleasure.”
The sheriff gave her a tip of his hat, and his brother nodded, before both piled back into the sheriff’s Bronco. As she watched them drive off, Jackie felt herself going slack. It had taken all her control to maintain a semblance of calm. Six wolves, massacring animals just down the road. The largest one – the size of a pony? And Flapjack. He was attacked the same night the first killing occurred. How did all of it tie in? Why had the wolves been by their yard, and how did it result in her dog getting himself bitten? He’s not stupid enough to just walk up to a pack of hungry wolves. Burdened by a sack of doubt, she made her way into the living room.
“Is everything ok, mommy? You look scared.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine. They think they caught the guy, and recovered all the stuff he stole. I was just thinking you can never be too careful nowadays, you know? How about a bath, a nice hot cup of hot chocolate, and a bedtime story?”

<>

Jackie sat in her car and considered before opening her door. She didn’t want to involve anyone just yet, but she needed answers. So, she called Monica and asked her to take Elizabeth for a couple hours, while she took Flapjack back to the veterinarian. She excused herself from Lizzie’s company using the pretense of a trip to file a report for the university theft.
As she entered the office with the dog in tow, Doc Barchfield was there to greet her. “So, the fellow is ready to have those stitches out, eh? Good, good, he certainly looks well, so let’s ge…” The doctor paused in mid-sentence and looked closer at Flapjack. His studious observation lasted several seconds while Jackie watched his expression change from amused contentment to outright puzzlement.
Looking at Jackie for a scant second, he walked a circle around the dog. “This might sound a bit strange, but I swear to you this dog has grown. Have you noticed?”
Startled, she looked closer at her dog. It did seem as though she wasn’t looking quite so far down at him. “Doc, I really don’t know what’s going on, or who to talk to. His wounds are healed. Completely.”
The doctor strode forward immediately and scrutinized the dog’s neck. One side, then the other. Chewing his lower lip, be backed up and sat down in a chair. “I don’t understand. It’s only been a week. This isn’t possible.”
“I know, but there it is. And you’re right. He does look bigger.”
“Bring him out in the hallway a moment. I want to weigh him.”
The results of the weigh-in silenced them both. The big dog was now 130 pounds.
Rubbing the side of his head, the doctor had one more thought, “Put him on my exam table, I want to look inside his mouth.” Opening the canine’s mouth, he peered closely at the teeth and blanched. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. His teeth are bigger, much bigger. I’d say almost half again as big as they were when first I saw him. Has he been acting any differently?”
“Not really. Well, a little. He seems to be, I don’t know, guarded around our cat. And Barlow used to be his buddy. Now he won’t go near Flapjack.”
“I see. Well, he’s stronger than at our first exam, tell you that. He seems to have suffered no ill effects at all. The growing I can’t explain. If he’s a purebred bloodhound, he should be pretty much full grown. It’s possible he’s a mix of some kind, say with Great Dane, but that wouldn’t explain the healing.”
Driving back home, Jackie felt even more desperate for answers. And now Doc Barchfield was alerted.