A Shift in the Water (8 page)

Mara looked into the wolf’s eyes. She could almost read his plea. Her hand stroked down his side. Every rib stuck out, his hips were bony protrusions, and his pelt hung off of his body. His fur was matted, wet, and bloody. He was shivering. He knew he was dying. She saw herself, wasting away in a hospital bed, tubes sticking out of her arms, her nose, her throat. She shook her head again. “No. Go to the grocery store and get me two pounds of stew meat.”

“What?” Adam looked up from his phone. “You can’t be serious?”

“I am. If he’s going to die, he’s going to have one good meal first. And he’s going to be warm, with someone sitting next to him. He’s not going to die in a cage, put down by strangers who don’t care about him.” Mara couldn’t take her hand away from his pelt. The urge to touch him was so strong. The wolf made a weak sound, almost a whine.

When Adam didn’t move, Mara grabbed his arm. “We’ve talked about this. When it’s my time, you promised me. I won’t be stuck in a hospital bed hooked up to a bunch of machines. I’ll be at home. You, Lisa, Lillian, and Jen will be with me. You 
know
 how important this is to me. He’s me in a month. Can’t you see I need to do this for him?”

“He’s a wolf!” Adam was incredulous and backed away from Mara with his hand still clutching his phone.

“So? He’s an animal. He has a soul. He found me. The one person who could possibly know what he was going through. I don’t know how or why, but maybe the Universe knew I’d take care of him.”

The wolf inched forward and laid his head against Mara’s thigh. He made a deep questioning sound and nudged her.

“Go to the store for me. Please. Take money out of my purse. If he lives long enough to eat, I’ll call Fish and Wildlife myself.”

Adam’s brown eyes softened. When he rubbed his hands over his face, Mara knew she’d won this round. He’d do this for her. After a moment or two of rummaging through his pack, he withdrew two syringes, handed one to Mara, and slid the other needle into the wolf’s pelt at the nape of his neck.

“What’s that?”

“I gave him a sedative. I won’t take a chance that he’ll hurt you.”

“He rode all the way back from Anacortes with me and didn’t make a peep. He’s not going to hurt me, are you, buddy?” Mara bent down and looked the wolf in the eyes. The drugs had taken hold and his pupils were saucers within the blue depths. “No. You won’t.”

Adam gestured to the other syringe. “If he looks like he’s in distress, use this. It’ll stop his heart.”

Mara nodded. Adam spread some salve on the wolf’s paw pads and wrapped them up with gauze. The wolf licked the gauze once until Mara stopped him. “Leave those alone, buddy. They’re for your own good.”

Adam gestured to the wolf. “You want him inside? Or out here?”

“Inside. By the fireplace.”

Adam grunted at the wolf’s weight and muscled the animal inside. Mara led the way with the blanket, laying it next to her fireplace and turning on the gas to ignite the few logs she kept there. A wave of nausea hit her, but she swallowed hard and forced it away. Adam deposited the wolf on the blanket and brushed off his hands. He went back to the garage and retrieved surgical thread, a needle, and scissors from his bag.

“Stitch him up. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

“Okay.”

When Mara and the wolf were alone, he looked up at her with a darting gaze, his eyes bright and shimmering. She forced a smile. “You’re pretty smart, you know that? You managed to find probably the only person on the whole island who knew exactly what you were going through. I’m dying too.”

The wolf made a desperate sound, something between a yip and a growl. He tried to get closer, but he was too weak. Mara stroked his back. “No one knows what’s wrong with me. But I’m down to my last two months or so. Adam’s right. I should call Fish and Wildlife. But they’ll put you in a cage and give you what’s in that syringe and you’ll be cold and alone. So you’re going to have a meal and you’re going to be warm, and if you look like you’re suffering too much, I’ll inject you myself.”

A few tears fell from Mara’s eyes. They landed with a
plop
 on the wolf’s fur. She stitched up his shoulder with steady hands. She had no anesthetic and it must have hurt, but the wolf didn’t move. When Adam returned, he brought a bottle of wine, a dark chocolate bar, and three pounds of stew meat. He set the bag down next to Mara and stared down at his shoes.

“I don’t think this is a good idea, but I can’t blame you for wanting to make his last few hours better than the past few months have obviously been for him. I need to get back to Lisa and the girls. But if you need anything, you call, okay?”

Mara nodded. She kept stroking the wolf’s fur. His breathing was still labored but he was calm. After getting her a wine glass and corkscrew, Adam kissed the top of Mara’s head. The wolf growled quietly, but didn’t move. “I’ll check in on you tomorrow after work.”

Mara grabbed his forearm and squeezed. “Thank you.”

Adam let himself out. Mara opened the bottle of wine and poured herself a healthy glass before draping the blanket over the wolf. The plastic around the package of beef tore easily under her fingers. The wolf sniffed the air and whined. He tried to get at the package, but the blanket around his body foiled his movements. “Shh. It’s okay.” Mara took one of the pieces of cold meat and held it in her hand. The wolf gently plucked it from her palm. His lips were rough. He nudged her hand again.

“Don’t worry, bud. You get it all. As much as you want. But take it slow, okay? Wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

Piece by piece Mara fed the animal next to her. He licked her palm clean after each bite, tickling her and making her laugh. He managed two whole pounds before he stopped asking for more. Mara abandoned her wine and corked the bottle. She fingered the syringe.

“What do you think, bud?” she asked.

The wolf lifted his head. His eyes were clear and bright. She could read the plea there. 
I want to live.
 

“So do I,” she murmured. “It’s late. Let me get you some water.”

Mara trudged into the kitchen and filled a bowl. Her eyes watered and a halo of light framed her vision. She needed to shower. She always felt better after a shower. The wolf whined, tried to stand, and fell over. “Shit.”

Water splashed onto her hardwood floor as Mara hurried back to the wolf. She dropped to her knees and stroked his side, carefully avoiding the brand new stitches. “It’s okay, you’re okay.”

The wolf yipped. It was a low sound, quiet, but almost happy.

“You’re not going to stay here while I sleep, are you?”

His back legs flailed, useless, but he got his front legs under him to support his torso. He whined and looked up at her. “Well, clearly either my condition is progressing more rapidly than anyone thought, or you’re really good at communicating. You don’t want to be alone.”

The wolf shook his head so hard, he fell over.

“Careful there. You’re way too drunk on meat and sedative to do that.” Mara extricated the blanket from under his skeletal body and folded it next to him. “Get on.” She pointed. He inched forward, repeatedly gazing up at her. “Go on. Trust me.”

Once the wolf curled up on the blanket, Mara grasped the corners and dragged him towards her bedroom. Her shoulder thudded against the wall more than once and the wolf yipped every time. Her eyes were dry and scratchy and her depth perception felt skewed. The more her mysterious disease progressed, the faster she became dehydrated and the odder she felt when she did. Once the wolf was settled next to her bed, she stumbled into the bathroom.

Stripping, she slipped underneath the warm spray, soaking up the precious moisture. She gulped down water from her insulated bottle and her nerves steadied. When the shower cooled, she dried off, donned her pajamas, and opened the bathroom door.

“Goddess!” Mara yelped. The wolf lay on the threshold. He raised his head. Mara bent down and stroked his matted fur. “Stubborn thing, aren’t you? Come on. Back to the blanket with you.” The wolf crawled after her and flopped down on his side. Nestled in the sheets, Mara stared down at the animal who was so much like herself. Weak, frightened, and alone. “Don’t die on me tonight, okay?” She didn’t know what she expected him to do, or if she expected him to answer her, but he laid his head down and closed his eyes. She did the same.

The wolf woke in the middle of the night. It was dark, but he was warm. Panic held his body still, pressing down on his chest. It suffocated him and left a bitter taste in his mouth. Where was the bad woman? Where was 
he
? He couldn’t remember. He sniffed the air. Water, illness, coconut, smoke from a fire, and something wonderful, beautiful, and safe. 
Home
. The woman. 
Mara
. 
Man say Mara.
 The words shocked him. He hadn’t thought in words in a very long time.

He raised his head. Every movement hurt, but he wasn’t in the cage any longer. His belly was full. The blanket under him was thick. His paws felt funny. Mara. Mara helped him. Her skin was soft and cool and she’d laughed when he’d licked her. An inquisitive sound escaped his throat and something moved close by. Instantly on alert, he shrank into the corner of the room, trying to hide himself.

A quiet sigh and hum a few feet away calmed him.
Mara.
 She was here, sleeping close to him. He crept forward on bruised, blistered, and shredded paws, stifling his whimpers. She was sick and he wouldn’t disturb her.

He was tall enough to lay his head on the mattress and watch her. 
Mine.
 She clutched a pillow to her chest, her long hair fanned out behind her. She was beautiful, kind, and smelled good.

Man.
He was a man.

Taking a risk, he nosed her hand and licked her fingers. She smiled in her sleep.  Some of his pain lessened at her touch. The fire that seared him from the inside out cooled slightly. Even now, with his nose inches from her hand, he felt better. Calmer. He would do anything to stay with her. He’d dragged himself across the floor to reach her, terrified of dying alone. He tried to get his paws on the bed, but too weak, he fell back on the blanket, panting. Images flashed in his head. Fire. Mara’s face. The bad woman. Other wolves. He was scared. His body tensed, desperate to run, but he could barely move. A low whine escaped his blistered lips.

“Hey.”

The most beautiful face in the world hovered over him. Gentle fingers stroked his muzzle. She smiled in the darkness, illuminated by a dim nightlight in the bathroom across the hall.

“You’re okay.”

The wolf looked up and licked her fingers again. He sighed a deep, low sound, and settled. He 
was
 okay. Mara was here.

The next morning, he was sitting up and staring at her when she woke.

“Well now. Someone looks better.” She rubbed her eyes and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her toenails were painted blue.

The wolf half-limped, half-ran to her patio door and yipped. He needed to go outside. “I don’t think most wolves are house-trained,” Mara said, a hint of bemusement coloring her words. “But I’ll take it. Come on. If you come back in when you’re done, I’ll give you the rest of the meat.”

The wolf understood one word. 
Meat
. He knew that word. His stomach growled, hollow again, but at least the shooting pangs of hunger hadn’t started.

Outside, he sniffed around the entire yard. It smelled different. He couldn’t smell the sea. No burnt scents of dirt. A few small animals, herbs, mud, and decaying leaves. No threats. A tall wood fence offered privacy and lush trees protected two sides of the yard. No one could see him here. All of the other houses were low, single story homes. The dull hum of traffic passed by to the west. 
City.
 He was in a city. But where?

He left his scent several places around the yard, warning other animals away. For as long as he stayed here, he wouldn’t let any other animal bother them. He sat patiently at the door until she noticed him and let him back inside the warm house.

Scents of cooking filled the small kitchen. Mara made a plate with eggs for herself and set two bowls on the floor for him. One was filled with raw meat and the other held water. The wolf attacked the meat bowl. Fresh, lean, tasty meat. Not spoiled. Not burnt.