White Wolf

As a toddler, Brendan spoke about a white wolf dog that nobody seemed able to see. No-one took notice of Brendan’s continued sightings of his imaginary friend. Had someone, they may have discovered a pattern which would’ve prepared them for their loss.

Weeks or months passed before Brendan saw his white wolf, and often in weird places. When passing a house a few doors away, or in a busy road. Soon after seeing the dog, someone died at the location. Times of death varied from immediately after a sighting to days, weeks or even months later. 

When Brendan was ten we began putting pieces together. A week before Brendan’s great grand-dad died, Brendon saw his white wolf move from outside our property to inside it, then into the house and lastly onto the rug besides his grand-dad’s bed. We realized that the appearance of the dog was the forbearer of death tidings. 

It was a tremendous shock when my sporty mother, died suddenly of a stroke, but Brendan had alerted us that the dog had moved from outside her property, into her house, then lying on my mom’s bed within a three-week period. Only days after her death, Brendan again saw the dog about a block from his school. On this occasion a pedestrian was knocked down by a speeding car. We knew this, because Brendan had walked home from school with a friend who had later phoned to tell of the gruesome accident that had taken place at the very spot where Brendan had pointed to the dog’s presence. 

Was the dog a ghost? Why was only Brendan able to see it? When a friend’s child died from Leukemia, the dog appeared constantly for about six months before the child passed away. 

Five years later I saw the white wolf dog for the first time. Brendan was traveling with me when he told me that the dog was lying outside our house. Two days later a strange man arrived at our gate to tell us that he had seen a driver push Brendan’s motorbike off the road as he returned from University. The kindly man who’d brought Brendan and his bike home safely, told us that it didn’t look as though Brendan had sustained major injuries. Brendan only complained of a slight headache, felt it wasn’t necessary to see a doctor even though I’d insisted. By the following morning, he felt loads better.

On returning from shopping, I saw a white wolf dog sitting on the driveway just outside our house, and wondered whether the dog that Brendan kept seeing was similar to this one. It was so beautiful and seemed to radiate with an all knowing, loving glow. It gazed at me affectionately. It cradled a newspaper between its legs. As I moved closer to the remote controlled gate to enter our property, the dog lifted the paper and came to stand beside my window looking at me with caring eyes. I sensed that it wanted me to take it, so I opened the window. The picture on the front page took my breath away. It looked like Brendan, the same eyes, similar facial structure.  ‘Only a miracle can save Brent now’ the caption read.

I wanted to return the newspaper to the dog, but it had vanished. I saw it besides Brendan’s bike. A shiver ran up my spine. Brendan should have been at varsity. I rushed to his room. He was lying on his bed. He looked like an angel and my heart tensed.

“What is it Brendan?  Aren’t you feeling well?”

“I’ll be fine soon,” he said and took my hand, squeezing it fondly, but I knew differently when the dog suddenly entered his room. I thought I had left the newspaper in the car, but the dog was carrying it in its mouth and plonked it on the bed beside me. The heading. ‘Only a miracle can save Brent now’.

Brendan watched as I opened the paper and smiled gently as I read the first paragraph. The youngster of Brendan’s age was needing a dual heart and kidney transplant to save his life. 

“You need to see a Doctor Brendan. Do you think that you can make it to the car, or should I call an ambulance?” Brendan returned my question with a semi blank stare. My heart constricted. I rushed to the phone and dialed my husband. He phoned our doctor, a personal friend who agreed to come immediately. Brad and Roger arrived within minutes of each other, and an ambulance shortly afterwards. According to Roger, Brendan had slipped into a coma, but while in the ambulance with Brendan, he took my hand and slurred, “Mom, you’ll know what to do.”

At the hospital, he was immediately admitted to surgery and while we waited for Roger to reappear with the hoped for good news, the white wolf dog rematerialized with the paper in its mouth. This time I was reluctant to take it because I knew exactly what was happening. I didn’t need Roger to tell me what the outcome would be. A tear trickled down my cheek as I again took the newspaper from white wolf’s mouth. This time I read the article from start to finish and my heart went out to the boy and his family who were desperate to find a donor.

We saw a haggard looking Roger walking towards us and I just knew. White wolf had already conveyed the message but it was me who was not wanting to accept it. 

“Roger,” I spoke up. “You don’t have to tell us. I just know.” He dolefully nodded his head.  

“I’m sorry, I tried,” and I could see tears forming. Brad was beside himself. He looked from me to Roger and back to me.  

“No! Please no!…” he sobbed. I threw my arms around my husband to console him though I needed consoling myself. I still held the paper. Roger saw the picture of Brent and slowly released it from my hands.

“Would you like to see him?” he asked. Pulling away from Brad to answer Roger’s question as he pointed to Brent’s picture.

“He’s here? In this hospital?” I questioned.

“He is,” Roger told us. Brad’s eyes showed puzzlement, so I immediately related having seeing Brendan’s ghost white wolf dog and what had occurred since. Silence overcame all of us pondering this uncanny tale.

“Take us to him,” Brad said suddenly and Roger immediately led the way. 

It was just too amazing how much he reminded us of a much thinner Brendan. His disease had taken its toll.

“Hi,” Roger greeted him, The boy brightened as he opened his eyes.

 “This is Mr and Mrs Nichols who want to say hello.” Without speaking to Brad, I surprised myself by telling Brent about Brandon’s accident and how sure I was that Brendon would have wanted to help Brent. Brad surprised me further by asking the boy if he would be happy to accept Brendan’s special lifesaving gift. Brent’s eyes suddenly lit up then faded.  

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I am only thinking of myself. You have just lost a son in the most tragic way and here I am sounding like…..happy.”

“We understand,” Brad said. “You know you look so much like our Brendan that it’s hard to tell the difference….”

“Are you serious?” Roger enquired. “If you are, then I will have to work quickly to prepare for the transplant. Brad and I both looked at each other and then nodded in unison. 

“I’ll send someone to sort out the paperwork….Stay here will you?” He shouted as he fled.

“Thank you, thank you,” Brent told us. “The staff say that the recipient doesn’t usually meet a donor’s family, but I have met you and I already feel as though you’re my parents. My own were killed in a plane crash, so I’ve lived with my grandparents until my grandfather died. Now it’s only my grandma,” he told us. 

Everything happened so fast that it gave little time to think about the loss of our beloved son. We grieved, but somehow also gained another son. As bereaved as we felt, we were keen to know the results of Brent’s operation. After Brendan’s organs were removed, we spent time saying our good-byes to his body. Brendan so beautiful in life and in death that he took my breath away. I cried softly for the son I would no longer be able to spend lengthy chats with. We’d spent hours discussing our thoughts and feelings about life in general. Religion, reincarnation, whether there was any truth in it. Our interest in astronomy, the possibility of other life somewhere millions of light years away. Remembering them was reason enough to bring smiles back.

Brent’s grandmother with years of worry lines etched across her face arrived moments before he went into theatre. It wasn’t easy for her to raise a youngster who needed hospitalization so often during his young life. Her telling of Brent’s struggles, how he’d managed to cope despite his hardships, distracted us from our unbearable loss. We waited patiently for the outcome of this major operation. We wanted it to be a success. It was not only to save Brent’s life, but to keep parts of Brendan alive. In fact, we had no idea how much of Brendan would be kept alive.

The first words rolling off Brent’s tongue as he groggily regained consciousness were, “I knew you would know what to do, mom.” A thought provoking message that brought Brendan back to life for us. White wolf followed him when arriving from theater and my heart sank, but the dog stared deeply into my eyes then trotted off never to be seen again.  

“Look Brad, Brendan’s white wolf dog,” I said pointing to it. Brad could not see it. Needless to say, the operation was a huge success.

Although Brent felt loads better just days after this operation, it would be long before being allowed home. He needed to take meds to prevent infection and anti-rejection for the rest of his life and to learn how to follow a heart healthy low fat diet. After leaving hospital he was to visit his doctor every week, then every second week. Luckily Brent recovered fast and the 2 week visit became a three month interval, later to six month intervals. 

Grandma Bubb, his mother’s mother was the only living relative Brent knew. He’d never known his father’s parents nor other members of his father’s family. According to his dad, Hans Köhler born during the WWII, had absolutely no memory of his parents who had fled after the war. Stories recounted by the Schmidts, a young childless German couple who knew his parents and had raised him as their own child, Brent’s grandfather had been a pilot for the Luftwaffe but had also been a private pilot for Hitler. Köhler had accumulated a huge fortune, which had been put into a trust for Hans until he was of age.

As if born to it, Hans also became a pilot. At just 24 he’d opened his own plane and Helicopter Services where he’d simply doubled his huge inheritance. At 25 he met the girl of his dreams and settled down with his South African girlie a year later. Brent came along a year after that. Hans, an excellent pilot, but dare-devil who also had too much confidence ultimately cost him his and his wife’s life. Brent was just six years old and his wife was 6 months into her second pregnancy.

Brendan our youngest, had been our only child still living at home. His married sister and two elder brothers had carved niches for themselves abroad. They were devastated hearing of their baby brother’s tragic death, even they remarked at the amazing likeness between Brent to their brother, when they came for his funeral. 

“If I hadn’t seen Brendan’s body with my own eyes, I would have seriously believed that Brent was Brendan,” they all agreed.

Brent’s health improved daily. As he picked up weight, he fitted more and more into a twin version of Brendan. The only thing to tell them apart was Brent’s long fingers with moon showing nails. ‘Piano’ fingers, my mother would say to such lovely hands. My three remaining children even referred to Brent as Brendan and Brent accepted this graciously.

“A very important part of me is Brendan now, So it’s okay. Like it or not we are family now.” 

After six weeks of lying low, Brent was eager to get back to his studies which he suddenly realized he had no wish to continue.

“I’ve lost interest in accounting, it seems so boring. I want to do something more exciting.”

That’s when he shocked us again, with his complete change into the exact same course as Brendan was studying.

“It’s really where my heart is,” he said after having spent three years on the accounting path. At no stage had we mentioned that Brendan’s big dream was to become an astrophysicist.  

Brent and Grandma Bubb became regular visitors over the months that followed. While having a meal, Brent expressed his wish to eat liver and onions. Grandma Bubb looked at him curiously.

“You’ve never been one for liver, you’ve always picked up your nose to it,” she frowned while Brad and I looked at each other wondering.  

“Okay, you come for lunch on Saturday and I shall prepare a delicious liver and onion dish. One of Brendan’s favorite meals.

Brendan’s girl friend of four years, was away in Riyads on a contract job to a Saudi Princess. Candice, true to her name, always looked for adventure, except had experienced little adventure while trapped behind the confines of palace walls. The job was advertised during her matriculation year. Brendan had tried to convince her not to go, but the ‘can dice’ in Candice stubbornly completed the butlers course to qualify for the position to oversee maids that fell lower in the hierarchy as attendants to the spoiled princess. The well-paying job would set her up towards a comfortable future back home, but after three months she’d had enough. The heat was oppressive, being required to cover from head to toe wherever she went except in her own living quarters went against her grain. She was fed up with the way women were treated. She was fed up that animals, especially cats were never fed because they were expected to catch mice. She was fed up that everything came to a standstill during the four daily prayer times. She was fed up with the way the royal families wasted food. She desperately wanted to leave but couldn’t because they’d withheld her passport. Once contracted to a position that was not easily replaced, it was difficult to break free even two or more years after the contract should have ended. Death was no excuse for leaving her job. Reasons why we only got to see her 9 months after Brendan’s death.

By then we’d convinced Brent and Grandma to move in with us. Grandma in her eighties was no longer capable of managing to look after him, let alone herself.

 Candice arrived at our house unexpectedly, to explain why she had not been able to come home for Brendan’s funeral. I was about to answer the door, but Brent beat me to it. Candice turned white as snow, but then came her beautiful smile. Brent also in shock. From his facial expressions I could see why the shock differed on each of their faces. For him, from my point it was love at first sight. 

“I thought you were dead?” Candice stammered.

“Officially I would’ve been if it wasn’t for Brendan,” he smiled back and outspoken Candice was confused. I rushed forward to hug Candice, happy to see her, then introduced her to Brent with further explanations as we moved into the lounge.

“Forgive for sounding forward,” Brent announced after I’d told Brent of Candice’s relationship with Brendan. I don’t know if it’s me or Brendan’s heart that’s been performing somersaults ever since I laid eyes on you Candice,”

Candice laughed, and I could see a flame aglow in her too. The two youngsters fell into tune with Candice telling of her most recent experience as butler to the Saudi princess.  

“She was a spoiled brat. Sometimes quite loveable, but usually quite screwed up… which I suppose, most women there tend to be, because they’re absolutely trapped…. even those in gilded cages. It would drive me crazy to live in that environment forever. The men try to convince the rest of the world that these trappings are set in place to respect their women. How crazy is that? They say that what they cannot see they cannot lust after, and yet, they still rape women and then blame the poor women for distracting them. So what happens? The women get punished for the man’s crime.”  

The attraction was still aglow many months later, but on this day of their first meeting another of Brendan’s likes came alive in Brent.

“Here,” Candice said handing me a CD meant for Brendan. I’d not known that Brendan had fallen in love with legend Albert Hammond’s music of my sixties era. Both he and Candice had tried in vain to find copies of the particular tracks they’d heard on a friends CD. At last in Dubai, Candice managed to find the very album and bought 2 CD’s. Brent was familiar with and loved the tracks I’d not heard before and had also been looking for that very album. 

 Candice was never able to make the switch to calling Brent by his real name, she gave him a new name, Brentan which he happily accepted, us falling into the same pattern. There were so many of Brendan’s memories locked into Brent’s which couldn’t be explained. This made us wonder which part of the body actually retains knowledge, the brain or the heart?