The Healer (12 page)

He knew now why Wolf was stepping so meticulously in his tracks, but it was impossible to explain in human terms, for it was a mixture of several emotions. Tracking had something to do with it, also curiosity as to why the boy had put his feet just where he had, but basically it was a game. Billy had played "step on a crack and break your mother's back" when he was in the city. Wolf was making a game out of stepping exactly in his footprints. He had never known that animals played games.

Now that he was sure that he was completely possessed by Wolf, he found the whole scope of his human experience and reasoning powers wiped out. His thoughts came to him in combinations of patterns. It was something like turning a kaleidoscope and watching the changing symmetrical forms. Some of the kaleidoscope forms might be extremely complicated; far more complicated and artistically balanced than Billy could produce himself by moving bits of colored glass around. Yet Billy could make an entirely original pattern, say an imitation of a human face, by making a circle of glass beads with two beads inside to represent eyes, one below them to be a nose, and a line under that for a mouth. Crude as the image might be, no kaleidoscope could duplicate it. Within his head, Wolf carried an amazing variety of patterns which he could combine, superimpose or cut up and piece together, but the pattern had to be there to begin with. Wolf could do many things with his patterns that were beyond Billy's powers, but he could not produce an original idea. Billy found this bewildering, as he had always thought of animals thinking like humans, only not as cleverly. A dog, say, might have the mind of a four-year-old child. He realized now that this was not true. Where Wolf's patterns worked to his advantage, the coyote was "smarter" than a man, but he could not reason or cope with a situation not covered by his pattern combinations.

The power passed, with Billy clutching at it as though trying to hold dissolving wisps of mist. When it was gone, he tried desperately to remember just how Wolf thought, but already the memory was fading away like the details of a dream. Billy knew that even if he had retained the knowledge it would do him no good. How Wolf thought was something that could not be put into human words or even thoughts, any more than what scent conveyed to the animal could be expressed in human terms. You had to experience it to know it.

Even when the power had entirely left him, Billy could vividly remember Wolf's intense curiosity and the excitement of tracking a possibly dangerous quarry. He could remember these two traits because they roughly paralleled his own human emotions. He too was curious, although he was not prepared to take the risks to gratify his curiosity that Wolf did. He knew now why he had become Wolf when he watched the boys jumping over the areaway. It was the thrill of danger. If the danger was too real, it was no longer fun. Wolf would never dare to track an adult man who might have a gun. However, he was reasonably sure that Billy could not hurt him. He suddenly realized that Wolf and Blackie, even though they were wild, free animals who could do what they wished, must lead rather boring lives. Even the struggle to obtain food they probably regarded as a chore rather than as an adventure. Both animals, or at least Wolf, were naturally aggressive. It was part of their natures. They could not gratify this drive by killing prey. They felt no more hatred toward their quarry than Billy did toward a beefsteak. Hatred was an emotion reserved for peers. The boy was the closest thing to a peer they had encountered. He had intruded on their territory and was a logical target for their pent-up belligerency.

The canines came to where he had checked the muskrat traps, and here he knew the scent was hot. Blackie continued to nose around but after a quick check, Wolf stopped and raised his head. He was looking straight at Billy. There was no wind and Billy knew that as long as he stood perfectly still, the coyote could not be sure whether he was alive or not. He could remember enough of how Wolf thought to realize that the coyote could not pick out details of an object and assemble them in his mind as a human could. He could not say to himself, "This thing has a head, a face, a body, and two legs. Therefore it must be a man." Only the general outline registered with him and Billy might as well have been a tree or a stump, unless the coyote could scent him. Still, Wolf knew there was something wrong. Perhaps he knew the territory well enough to know that there was no tree where Billy was standing or perhaps he could reason well enough to know that Billy's outline was somehow wrong for a natural object. He stood frozen into the wonderful show pose—hind legs slightly back, head lifted, ears raised—that Billy found so magnificent.

Blackie started to work out the trail. She passed Wolf and, head down, started toward the boy. Wolf made no attempt to stop her. He never took his eyes off Billy. Blackie came on, completely absorbed by her tracking, and Billy felt vaguely sorry that Wolf made no attempt to warn her that she might be going into danger. Billy felt that the coyote was actually glad that the dog was going on to solve the mystery of this motionless object so he, himself, would not have to run any risk. To Billy, that was a mean trick.

Blackie kept on and on. She was only a few feet away from the boy when she seemed to sense something was wrong and raised her head. For a moment she hesitated and then, with a startled
woof
, jumped back. She stopped again and giving a series of alarmed noises that were halfway between a snort and a bark, began to circle him, making short runs. This was too much for Billy to stand. He didn't want to find Blackie behind him while he had to keep his eyes on Wolf. He waved his hands and shouted.

To his surprise the animals did not immediately bolt.

Wolf swerved, made a short run, and then turned to look. Blackie ran back and stopped. Not until Billy reached down, made a snowball, and threw it at them did the animals retreat, and then they slowly trotted off, turning frequently to look at him over their shoulders.

This reaction both pleased and somewhat worried the boy. He was glad that they did not panic because he felt that this meant they might someday get to trust him. On the other hand, it was alarming that they did not fear him. He returned to the farm thoughtfully, often stopping to watch his back trail.

Abe Zook was delighted with the dung and, without telling Billy where he was going, left the farmhouse as soon as it was dark. Billy was asleep long before he returned.

A few days later, in school, Mark Swamenburg, the stocky, moon-faced son of the farmer came up to Billy during recess and said accusingly, "Your uncle is a hex putting on my father's cows."

Billy stared at him in astonishment and then quickly recovered himself.

"Your father stole my uncle's traps and his skins."

Mark Swamenburg did not deny this charge. Instead he said, "Putting a hex on is wicked. My father is getting a great braucher from Bird-in-Hand to curse your uncle."

For an instant Billy felt apprehensive, but he said confidently, "There is no greater braucher than my uncle makes. No curse is touching him."

Seemingly Mark was inclined to agree with this boast, for after scuffling with his feet, he turned away.

As a sorcerer's apprentice, Billy did not dare to ask what was wrong with the Swamenburg's cows, but by pretending to know all about it, he managed to extract the information from some of the other children. The cows refused to enter the barn. If they were forced in, they milled about bawling and could not be milked. Swamenburg had brought in a veterinarian, but the man could find nothing wrong with them. Finally in desperation the farmer had sent for a hex doctor.

When Billy reported this to Abe Zook, the old man was elated. "I know that man he is bring," he said contemptuously. "He is claiming to cure silly women by putting his hands on them and saying foolish things. Let him put his hands on the cows, once. He knows nothing of herbs."

"Or of wolf dung either?" asked Billy.

Abe Zook looked at him sharply. "There are things which are not good to talk about. Forget about the wolf dung. A hex it is and a hex let it stay."

A week later while they were eating supper, they heard the guineas begin to cackle and Wasser start barking. "Ah, guests we have," said Abe Zook continuing to eat. A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. Zook called, "Come!" without leaving the table, and Swamenburg entered. The farmer, usually an arrogant, aggressive man, seemed strangely humble. He was carrying the traps and some pelts. Zook did not rise to greet him or acknowledge his presence in any way. Grip, who was hopping around the floor looking for scraps, minced over to examine the man, considered nipping his ankle, thought better of it, and swaggered off.

"By me a great trouble has come," said Swamenburg, when it became obvious that Zook would not begin the conversation.

"For real? I mind me that the last time we met by me a trouble had come but you cared nothing."

"In that I was making wrong," said Swamenburg humbly. "I am bringing the traps and the furs. I found the man who stole them."

"You had not far to look." With elaborate care Zook wiped his mouth and then examined the traps and pelts. "When you are seeing this man again, teach him how to stretch a pelt. Half their value is gone."

"I will be making up the difference in money. I am having great trouble with my cows."

"For that you should see a veterinarian or maybe that great braucher from Bird-in-Hand."

Swamenburg twisted the trap chains. "They are doing me no good. I think a hex has been put on my cows."

"I mind that not long ago you were telling me that a hex is a fairy tale to tell children."

"I was a fool."

"I can't help for that."

"I want you should help me." Swamenburg produced a small roll of bills.

Reaching over, Zook took the bills, counted them, and then examined the traps and skins. "By you was a great foolishness but perhaps now you know different. Bring me some of the dung of your cows, some hair from their tails, and a splinter of wood from the barn. Then we are seeing."

When the farmer had left, Abe Zook said quietly to Billy, "Go quickly once to his farm and watch till he comes the barn out of. I have given him enough to do to keep him there a good time. When he starts back, go and take away the wolf dung." He told the boy where he had hidden it. "Take some of this with you." Standing up, the old man searched the rafters until he found the herb he wanted and handed it to the boy. "It is Kwendel Tee— thyme. Rub it on the spot where the wolf dung was and it will take away the scent. Then the cows will not be making trouble in the barn."

It was dark when Billy set out. He wanted to take a lantern, but Abe Zook forbade it for fear the light would be seen. Luckily, the mottled dish of the moon cast a whitish glow over the road and the stars danced and twinkled in the cold air. The boy trotted until he was tired, walked, and then trotted again, but he did not need to hurry for Swamenburg was a long time collecting all the items that Abe Zook had required. Billy was both cold and tired before he saw the farmer leave the barn, turn off the light, and drive off in his pickup. Moving quietly, although Swamenburg had no dog, Billy entered the barn and following Zook's directions, removed the dung and rubbed the spot with the thyme.

It was so bright that he decided to cut across the ridge. He regretted his decision when he discovered that there was still snow on the north side, but it was not deep and he kept on. Once he heard the stamp of a frightened rabbit and once an owl called, the liquid note of a little screech owl, no bigger than Dracula's head. A few months before Billy would have been frightened to be alone in the woods at night, but now the darkness gave him a certain comfort. If he could see nothing, then nothing could see him.

Suddenly from behind him came the alarm cackle of a startled pheasant, and the next second he could hear the bird burst out of a tangle and go crashing through the bare tree limbs. Billy paused, frightened for the first time. What could have scared the bird badly enough to make him fly in the dark? The boy hesitated, holding his breath so he could listen better. There was no other sound, but Billy suddenly remembered something that gave him a sickish sensation. Animals might not be able to see in the dark any better than he could but they could smell him. Wolf and Blackie preferred to hunt at night when they could use their powers of scent to the greatest advantage.

How the boy wished that he had kept to the road! Now he had only one idea and that was to get out of the woods as quickly as he could. He wanted to run, but running through the woods even by daylight meant stumbling over vines and logs. He went on as rapidly as he could.

Half way down the ridge the woods ended. He reached the edge of the trees and felt safe. His shoes were filled with the melting snow and he bent over to clean them out. As he stood up again he was conscious of a movement behind. Spinning around, he saw Blackie crouched for a spring. A few paces behind her was Wolf, ready to help her pull the boy down after she had made the initial attack.

Billy was so shocked and astonished that for a moment he knew no fear. Then he realized that Blackie was daunted. Bending over, he had been no taller than she was and his back had been to her. The two animals must have been trailing him through the woods, probably without any real malicious intent, yet when they came upon him crouched down and helpless, the temptation to attack had been too strong. Blackie, at least, had succumbed to it.

Billy shouted and looked around for some weapon, but no weapon was necessary. Wolf promptly fled and Blackie sprang back and followed him. Billy's nerves could stand no more. He ran screaming down the hill, vaulted over the familiar snake fence, and tore across the farmyard with Wasser chasing him, barking furiously. Ahead, he saw the door of the house fly open, and Abe Zook appeared with his shotgun cradled over his arm. Billy dropped panting on the steps.

"It gave me a worry when you were so late already. I am happy like everything to see you," said the braucher. "What has been happening?"

Billy panted out his adventures.