Songs of Love & Death (38 page)

“You saved his life.”

“Yeah. And he changed mine.” He shrugged. “Don’t they say, if you save a life, you take responsibility for it? I guess I could have taken him to one of those animal-rescue places, but that would have been like leaving him to die in prison, or risk him falling into the hands of some other sadistic bastard. It was
up to me to make sure that the life I’d saved was worth living. It’s not that hard, you know. Enough food, plenty of exercise outdoors, companionship. Lucky we like the same things.”

As he spoke, he took a sudden turn off the road, hardly slowing as we moved onto a heavily rutted, unpaved track. I held on for dear life as we rocked and bounced deeper into the forest.

“I thought this was a state park?” The way the trees loomed over us, old and heavy with moss, so thick they blocked the sun, made me uncomfortable.

“Some of the Thicket’s a national preserve, but we tend to steer clear of their trails,” he said. “No pets allowed, and if too many people start seeing a wolf, they might come looking for the wolf-man. This old road here, it was used for logging. I think it winds up in some old ghost town. There’s all sorts of old forgotten stuff in here.”

He parked off-road, in a small clearing. He opened his door, got out, opened the back door and stood looking in at the wolf, who was standing on the backseat, absolutely still, utterly focused. One charged moment passed in silence, then Cody barked, “Go free!” and the wolf leaped out of the car, the most beautiful, graceful thing I’d ever seen. He seemed to fly, and in motion, he was perfect, so beautiful it made my chest ache.

“You okay?”

Cody was staring at me. I had to blink hard, but managed not to sniff as I nodded and said, “He’s just so… amazing.”

He went on looking at me for an uncomfortably long time before he nodded, slowly, and said, “More than you know. Will you be okay here by yourself?”

I nodded, but I really wasn’t sure.

He handed me his keys. “If you get too hot, run the air conditioner for a while, listen to some music if you get bored. Does your phone have a camera?”

“Sure. Why?”

“Just, if you see an ivory-billed woodpecker, you want to be sure to get a picture.”

It was only when he flashed me a grin that I realized he was teasing, and managed to respond: “Actually, I was hoping to see Bigfoot.”

I watched him go, light and strong and quick on his feet as he sprinted away into the deep, shadowy forest, and although his movements didn’t have the amazing grace of the fleet, four-legged animal, still he had his own male, human beauty, and when he vanished into the dark, I felt something squeeze my heart.

I
T WAS STILL
hot and almost unbearably humid, even so late in the day, even though it was already October, but I was afraid of draining the battery if I ran the air-conditioning, so instead of curling up in relative comfort with one of my books, I wandered. I kept to the trail, of course, and peered into the undergrowth in hope of seeing one of the rare orchids or carnivorous plants that flourished in these parts.

I didn’t find anything rare, and I got bitten to pieces by mosquitoes before deciding, fairly swiftly, to turn back. I didn’t belong here. Once in the clearing again, knowing that I had the option of locking myself inside the SUV, or even driving away, I felt better. There was a sinister atmosphere about this patch of southern woodland, or maybe I just thought so after Cody’s story. Everybody knows there are people who delight in cruelty to animals, and if Cody had told me he’d rescued the wolf from starvation in somebody’s garage or basement, I would not have been surprised. But why would anyone go so far into a trackless wilderness to chain and abandon, to condemn to a lingering death, such a beautiful, innocent animal?

Something about the mental image struck me as mythic: a wolf-Prometheus bound to a rock? But it had been a tree, and the only classical myth about wolves that came to mind was Romulus and Remus, abandoned babies nursed by a she-wolf.

I was still brooding on the subject when the two of them came back, the wolf panting but still full of energy, bounding across the clearing to do a happy dance around me. Cody, dripping with sweat, his gray T-shirt soaked and clinging to his muscular chest, jogged raggedly after him. He looked exhausted, until he saw me, when his face lit up, and he carried himself differently, with a new spring in his step.

The sight of him, the way his expression changed, the sheer joy in it, as if he’d half expected me to be gone, sent a surge through me, some sort of emotional electricity connecting us. Can these things be explained? Is there any reason in it? Sometimes, once in a lifetime, if you’re lucky, you see someone, and you just
know
. I was suddenly, ridiculously, happy.

Neither of us said a word.

There was a cooler full of cold drinks in the back of the car. Cody poured water into a dish and set it down for Lobo, then stripped off his shirt and poured the rest of the bottle over his head, shaking it off as unselfconsciously as if he’d been alone. I pretended not to notice, but my eyes were drawn to his naked chest, and I was standing so near that I could smell his clean, salty sweat and feel the heat that radiated from him. It was all suddenly too much; the surge of pure lust that I felt was so powerful that I couldn’t breathe. I had
to close my eyes and lean against a tree.

“Want some?”

My eyes flashed open; I saw that he was holding out a can of cold beer. “Thanks,” I said, and took a quick gulp.

He looked at me with a sly grin. “Don’t know why
you
should feel weak. You been secretly working out with the weights in your bag?”

“No, but the mosquitoes must’ve got two pints out of me, at least.”

He laughed, and I gulped down beer more quickly than usual. But when he offered me a second, I shook my head. “No, I can’t—I shouldn’t—I—”

“I guess you need to be getting back?”

I nodded.

We were silent in the car, as he drove. There was so much to say, I couldn’t think how to begin. He seemed comfortable with the silence. I listened to the steady, regular panting from the backseat, and the hum of the tires on the road, and breathed in the musky scents of man and animal, and as I relaxed into the moment, I felt the hard, tight knot that had been inside me for so long slowly loosen.

Seeing my mailbox coming into view, I remarked, “That’s where I live, right there.”

And he turned, hard, cutting across the highway into my driveway.

I gave a little yelp of surprise.

“What’s wrong? I thought you said… ?” We were bouncing and rolling along the badly rutted track when he stepped on the brake.

“I didn’t mean you should turn.”

“You didn’t want me to take you home?”

Yes, and stay with me forever
, I thought. “My car’s on campus.”

“Oh, right. Of course. Well, I’ll take you there, no problem,” he said. “Do I need to back out?”

“You can turn by the trailer,” I said, and a moment later we were in the clearing where my shabby home stood in solitary splendor. He looped smoothly around the clearing in front of it, and in a matter of seconds we were back on the highway.

I felt sorry. Why hadn’t I asked him in for a drink? So, I didn’t have anything but a box of green tea and a couple of Cherry Cokes; there was beer in his cooler. Then, as I was trying to think how to rescue the situation, he spoke:

“Listen, do you want to go get something to eat?”

I looked at him. He was hunched forward, staring at the road.

“That would be nice.”

His shoulders relaxed. “I don’t know about
nice
. I’d love to take you to a
fancy restaurant, but Lobo wouldn’t be welcome.”

I laughed. “Are you kidding? You really don’t go
anywhere
without him?”

“Did you think I was lying?”

“Whoa, you’re sensitive! No, but people exaggerate. I’ve done it myself. And—well, to change your life that much—”

“Why is that so hard to believe? Haven’t you ever changed your life to suit another person? People do it all the time. They do it when they fall in love. You don’t live like you’re single when you’re married. Women do it when they have kids, every time. So I’ve done it for an animal—why not? I like him better than any—well, let’s say, better than ninty-nine percent of all the people I’ve ever met.”

We went to Whattaburger. It felt very retro, having a date at a drive-in, very old-fashioned teenage, and that was pretty appropriate to the hormonal rush his presence caused, a desire so strong it took away my appetite for anything but him.

H
E ORDERED THREE
hamburgers, and fed one of them to Lobo, bit by bit. When the two of them were finished, my own burger was still nearly untouched. Cody advised me to eat up: “You’re driving him crazy.”

“He can have it.”

“Something wrong with it?”

“No!”

“You’re not hungry?”

I shook my head. “The milkshake’s enough.”

“Go on, then. Cement your friendship with a burger.”

“The whole thing? I mean, bun and lettuce and all?”

“Unless you want it.”

I enjoyed watching Lobo wolf it down. As I turned away, wiping my fingers on a napkin, I noticed some college kids walking past, heading for either the Taco Bell or the 7-Eleven, on foot because, as freshmen, they were required to live on campus and not allowed cars. One of the girls gave the SUV a sharp look as she walked by, and I recognized her as one of my students. She saw me through the lowered window just as I saw her, and her eyes widened. I couldn’t help smiling as I raised my hand in a casual salute: yes, your boring English teacher does have a life outside the classroom! She lowered her gaze without responding, and hurried away.

Cody said, “Let’s go. Unless you wanted something else?”

“No, nothing,” I said, and while it was true, I had hoped we could sit and
talk awhile. I still knew almost nothing about this man, except that he was happy to allow a wolf to set his schedule. “I guess Lobo wouldn’t be too happy about sitting in a drive-in after the food’s all gone.”

“Not when he can smell more burgers being taken to other cars.”

“So now what?” I asked, as he started the engine.

“Now I take you to get your car, like you asked.”

I didn’t want our date to be over, but I reminded myself there could be others, and so, as we headed toward campus, I invited them to dinner at my place the next evening.

I felt Cody’s happiness like my own, and I think it was.

I WAS STILL
feeling happy the next afternoon, and even more excited as I anticipated the night to come, when I got the message that Nadia Sorenko, head of my department, wanted to see me. I wasn’t worried, not even when I saw how serious she looked as she gestured to me to take a seat, and I was totally unprepared for her first question.

“What is the nature of your relationship with Cody Vela?”

I gaped at her stupidly. “What… ?”

She leaned forward across her desk. “The kids call him the wolf-man. You know who I mean? There’s a disturbing rumor going around that you were seen sitting with him in his SUV yesterday evening.”

I bristled. “Well, so what if I was?”

She repeated, “What’s the nature of your relationship?”

I was afraid I was blushing. “I only met him yesterday. I’d hardly call that a
relationship
.”

She nodded slowly. “Not a
business
relationship?”

“What are you talking about? What business? And isn’t it
my
business who I talk to on my own time?”

“Not when he’s the local drug dealer.” She smiled a bit grimly. “You didn’t know? Oh, yes. And it’s not a part-time, share the joy, home-grown pot kind of thing. Have no illusions—he might be a local boy, but the man’s a criminal, with connections to organized crime.”

I tried to swallow. My throat was sore. “I—I had no idea.”

“How did you meet him?”

“I saw his wolf. I was curious, I guess.”

“His wolf.” She shook her head. “Some wolf. Half coyote, half German shepherd, you ask me. But the kids all believe his stories: It’s purely wild; he found the little cub in the woods, the only survivor of a pack butchered by
hunters, or it saved his life when he was attacked by a panther—which one did he tell you?”

“He didn’t say anything like that.”

“Must have guessed you weren’t as gullible as your students. They think the Big Thicket is more than a few scattered remnants, that it’s primeval, magical, filled with wolf packs, big cats, and extinct birds, not to mention ghost lights and hairy ape men.” Her interest in me waning, she stole a glance at her computer screen and sighed. “All right, Katherine. Now you know what he is, you’ll steer clear. And if you ever see him on campus, call security.”

L
EAVING CAMPUS, HALF
an hour later, I went to the grocery store and bought three steaks, potatoes, green beans, a bottle of wine, cheese and crackers, grapes, a frozen cheesecake… I reasoned that since I didn’t have his phone number, I couldn’t cancel, and the least I could do was give Cody a chance to defend himself. Maybe he could explain everything: He was working undercover for the DEA, or the victim of identity-theft…

I was totally in denial.

When I heard his car, I went outside and stood in front of the trailer, my arms crossed, holding myself. Lobo sensed my mood instantly and hung back by the car, just watching as Cody, less aware, only lost his smile and his jaunty, swinging stride when we were in touching distance.

“What’s up?”

I told him what my boss had said.

He didn’t prevaricate, bluster, or deny the charge, and he didn’t make light of it, either. He sucked in his lips. “You didn’t know?”

“Like I’d get in a car and go for a ride with a drug dealer!”

He sighed. “You’re a good person. I’m not used to being around good people.”

“I can’t see you anymore.”

“I understand.” Yet he didn’t move. He stared at the ground. Behind him, Lobo gave a low, sad whine.

“Please go.”

He raised his eyes. “I’ve done bad things. Most people would say that makes me a bad man. But—I could change. If I stopped dealing drugs, broke free of the people I’ve been working for, promised to go straight—would you give me another chance?”