Wierd

Hey Mom and Dad!                                               

I should be in the animal hospital, but I’m in the ski lodge. Everyone’s gone to bed already—like they’ve done every skiing year since ninth grade. They make plans with each other, and I just…go. I guess. They’re always together. It’s like four. And then one.                                       

The group and I were skiing yesterday when—following a track my friends had made through the snowy woods and mountains here in Bolton Valley, Vermont—I accidentally strayed off-piste. This strange wolf was lying in the forest behind the ski slopes. It was lying on the snow, panting heavily, its tongue lagging and its blinking brown eyes wide with fear. I first ensured it was aware of me, bending down only after looking for its pack. Then I knelt beside it. Seeing me, it growled, baring big teeth. I phoned 9-1-1, but no reception. Telling the beautiful animal I’d return, I dashed back to the lodge.    

I told the group about finding a stray wolf upon the mountains, but they all stared at me as if I dared venture into the forest itself. So I let the wolf be, secretly waiting until an opportune time to return it to safety.                                                    

I hope you guys aren’t too freaked out that I saw a Canadian wolf. And, no, I didn’t get bit. No rabies!                                                                                       

Since no wolves live in Vermont, it had, like me, strayed off a path from its wolf pack and trekked down here from Canada. Just some knowledge for you from my research back from the International Wolf Center. Too bad I’m not there—the blizzard here’s been going since this morning. Hopefully, it’ll stop before tonight so I can get a move on in this hot, stuffy place! To add salt to the wound, we’ve been here throughout the weekend. Don’t worry—we have food and water, and bunk beds upstairs.                                                                         

It was fun teaching some of them to ski right, but they would start racing each other halfway through my lessons. Soon, I stood at the top of the mountain, watching the four of them ski together—like ever since ninth grade. This year, I awoke to them already on the ski slopes even before breakfast.                     

*Sigh* I pointed the wolf out to them. But they had already gone skiing—they weren’t there anymore. Seeing this horribly mangled limb lying in the cold, I gasped, tears welling in my eyes. I immediately waited for the alpha wolf’s spring, but maybe they’re all looking for the wolf up there in Quebec.                  

I nursed it before waving it goodbye as it got carried away by helicopter (yeah, they liked it when I told them the wolf’s breed and home!). Sensing its gratitude for my help, I felt it would never forget me. Just don’t tell anyone I befriended a wolf. The group already thinks I’m crazy (and, believe me, I am!). Just don’t remind them—they don’t even like me, and never will. So don’t confirm my name is Loser.                              

It’s a crazy story, but I can just see you, Mom, wringing your hands, your face all flushed, pink cheeks of worry over your only child and beloved son’s crazy adventure that couldn’t end up in the hospital with rabies. You, Dad, are washing the worry of me possibly having to stay here another week or so away with cold water. Don’t, you guys. Please, don’t worry! I don’t want to be here any more than you should worry about whether the animal bit me. I know what I was doing!         

I re-read my letter, signed it and then gave it to the mailman once the snow finally stopped. Nodding, the man smiled. Yes! Rubbing my gloved hands together, I thanked him and then headed back inside. I hiked up to my room and rummaged through my three huge camping water bottles, four tents, five Ziploc storage bags and seventeen long sweaters, snow boots, gloves, hats, underwear and all of that toiletry stuff. Thoughts of the group laughing, joking around and promising each other that their next ski trip would be just as awesome with the four of them daring each other to ski down Triple Black Diamond Mountain ran through my head—

Brrrnng! I fished my phone out of my deep jean pocket. Every second felt like an eternity as my boss told me I’d make it home for work by Thursday. I looked outside. Snow was now falling fast in front of a darkening sky. I asked Mr. Texas whether I could have a few days. Besides, I had tried lifting this bear of a suitcase from the taxi cab: Nantucket and I grunted and heaved as we had carried the luggage inside the hotel before coming to this lodge. I had forgotten some stuff back there, I knew, in my haste to get to this lodge.           

“Like Jenny, you have until tomorrow, Thursday, to make it out here. I don’t see you, you can forget working for us anymore.” Click. Clutching my phone, I went to the counter, telling the lodge’s receptionist I needed to fly to Minnesota tonight after retrieving my stuff from the hotel.    

The woman looked at her computer and clacked on the keyboard for a few minutes.

“Sorry, sir.” She sighed. “No taxis or flights out today or tonight if the ice doesn’t melt. Of course, the snow has to melt, too.” She threw up a finger. “Hold on, I’ll call an airport. Hold on.” After several calls, the receptionist put the phone down softly. “Sorry—”             

“That’s okay. I’ll call the hotel. Maybe they can help me.” Why can’t anyone get anything done around here? It’s just a few feet of snow. What’s a little white fluff? Besides, I’m his best employee—just got a promotion the week before I left for this four-week trip. And then I got another one the Sunday after that one Saturday to make up for the day off several Mondays ago!                                            

Thoughts of the wolf and then my skiing group all laughing at inside jokes, raising mugs of warm cocoa to each other in celebration of Tasha’s new puppy she received as a late Christmas present only bred more nerves keeping me awake that night at the lodge. Tired of tossing and turning in my bed, I grabbed my phone on the nightstand, calling Nantucket to get me to that hotel.                        

He picked me up. A few miles down the road, we started slowing down. Banging the steering wheel, Nantucket shook his head, saying this situation happened twice before. “Out of gas, man. So sorry! And on a highway in the middle of nowhere!” He grabbed his phone, brightening up when he said he was dialing for the tow truck.                  

I clutched my pants with my sweaty hands. Dad’s frown and Mom’s teary eyes stared back at me—

I rubbed my forehead. My phone reminded me today was Wednesday. Throughout this whole waiting for the tow-truck ordeal, I called my father and mother. They picked up immediately.   

“Dad, please schedule me a flight from here to Ely, Minnesota. I have stuff back at the hotel, but can’t they hold it for me? I’ll come back to get it after I return to work.” Dad, I heard, jumped into his office’s swivel chair. The keyboard clacked as we talked, and I swelled with hope. Suddenly, my mother clucked her tongue.                   

“Sweetheart, electricity’s out. And we don’t have a generator. So sorry! We’ll call you back.” Click.  

My grip tightened on my phone. I swear, if I heard another click, I will—

I was jerked forward a little bit, and then whipped around in my seat. The back of the taxi was being lifted by a huge, rusty metallic hook! My eyes widened as I noticed Nantucket wasn’t in the driver’s seat! I whizzed around, studying out the back window. Rolling my window down, I stuck my head out, ensuring Nantucket was safe. Then, I plopped back around, facing forward. Maybe I’ll be home next Thursday, explaining everything away. Mr. Texas will forgive everything, right?                             

When Nantucket finally opened his door and slid into his seat, he pumped a fist, looking back at me with two dimpled cheeks. “We’re making progress!” As he buckled himself into his seat, I asked why the tow truck couldn’t just give us gas. He said the taxi was not only out of gas, but he checked the rest of the car and lo and behold found four—all four—car tires completely out of air. Then, I growled, couldn’t the guy just fix—   

“Yo, don’t be so down, man!” Nantucket shook his head of orange and black dreadlocks, his yellow hat too neon yellow for my eyes. “Have a little adventure, you know? Don’t be so upset over little things. Just go with the flow, sometimes. Hard things happen, but there’s always a way to break through them.”      

I slammed back into my seat, and rolled up my window. “Sure—whatever you say, Mr. Wisdom! You know, I saved a wolf. It’s back where it belongs. Hope I can be in the same predicament!”   

My phone buzzed. Jamming it to my ear, my parents told me the electricity had returned. Leaping for joy in my seat, I told them they were the best parents ever, and then they told me that all the airports out there in Ely were trying to get flights out to their destinations. I asked whether they could schedule me to fly from Vermont to Ely, and they strived to get me a flight. When they did, I celebrated mentally, and then asked the taxi cab driver to just tell the tow-trucking company to get us to the airport—          

Signaling a timeout, Nantucket twisted his face into a knot of misunderstanding, pointing out that I couldn’t just drive away like that—we were being hauled to the car shop. Widening my eyes when he said we’d be there possibly till 7, I bit my lip till I felt blood trickle down my chin. Nantucket told me that blood was dripping down my chin. After I sneered at him, he stared back at me, eyebrows knitted and eyes shining with hurt. Swinging around, he shook his head, and lay back. Soon, I, smirking, leapt from it to the double doors. Ignoring Nantucket’s calls about my open door, I held up a finger as I snatched the rest of my stuff from my hotel room. Grabbing some lobby snacks and throwing the money down before a surprised receptionist, I thanked her. Then I looked around—Nantucket had driven off!                      

Grabbing my phone after spilling everything onto the sidewalk, I was harassed by an angry woman as I tried calling another taxi cab. Pulling away from her, I hissed at her after yanking my phone away. She whirled around and stormed away, me jamming the phone to my ear again. But the man on the phone had already hung up.                         

I closed my eyes, forcing myself to relax. Slowly opening my eyes, I called Nantucket. He never came. I grabbed my belongings, stuffing as much stuff as I could in my huge suitcase. Finally, another taxi driver picked me up. At the gas station, I headed for some more snacks. Suddenly, someone marched into the store, jabbing at me. The receptionist from the hotel!               

I stood there, feigning innocence. As the employee called the police to arrest me for angering a poor receptionist, I dropped the snacks, dialing my best friend’s number. He didn’t pick up. Frustrated, I texted him, saying he should fly out here immediately. Save me, like I did that wolf.    

“No, man. Save yourself. And what wolf? Wierdo!” Click!

Thanks, man. Thanks for your friendship. I lamented. Guess I really am meant to have befriended that wolf. We’re both lonely, lost losers. We’ll never matter.

Releasing my phone into my pocket, I silently followed the police outside while the woman stole my snacks. I heard the woman, who claimed I didn’t deserve any snacks, also claim that she was treated poorly as I stopped and just gave her cash for Nantucket. She said she had mercifully called that taxi cab. 

“That’ll teach him some respect!”

They think I’m crying over missed snacks!

At the police station, I sniffed, jerked my eyes up at the policewoman before me behind the counter and wiped my face. I stared at the ugly concrete floor, waiting for the police to strike me over the head, me falling down, never to rise again. My funeral held by none other than my mourning parents—

“Hey—Mister—get over here. We have some questions to ask you.”

I looked over. Seeing Sherman’s daughter and wife, I walked over to the young frizzy-haired girl. “Excuse me.” I fished out my phone, but then she leapt up and climbed into her mother’s arms, stuffing her face in her mother’s shirt. Her mother glared at me. “How dare you act so rudely to my husband. He isn’t going to bail you out again by getting you a flight—”                  

I shook my head. “Yeah, you’re right. He’s sitting back at the office, telling Mr. Texas I’m not working here anymore. Not that Mr. Texas or he cares. Neither of them has ever. And I’m not expecting him to. I just thought he’d help out. But, sadly, he won’t. It’s sad how neither my so-called ski group friends nor my so-called best friend—” 

“Let’s go!” The policemen hauled me away, Kassie’s glare following me until a heavy metal door slammed us apart. “Sit down!” 

Back at the hotel (for the police demanded I pay this Mr. Nantucket), the receptionist stood in front of me, arms crossed and eyebrows knitted on a pinched face. Pointing at the money, I claimed it was the right amount. I don’t know how—I just did. “So give it to him!”

Recounting the money, she nodded. Squeezing a strained smile onto her face, she asked how if I just threw it down. I shrugged, grabbing my stuff. I was no sooner back in Ely, Minnesota than I received a call from Mr. Texas. 

“Why are you even bothering? I fired you.” A huge sigh. “I trusted you, Flint. Now, you’re not here. I really wanted a great guy to work for us until I passed the boss baton onto you. Sadly, that goes to Simone. I had to do it. It was a huge struggle, but…I had to. I made the choice, as hard as it was.” Click.

“Yes, sir.” I called my parents, explaining the whole dilemma, apologies streaming from my mouth immediately afterward. I remembered Nantucket’s number I had seen on a sticky, apologizing to a confused, wondering driver for my behavior. 

“Uh…you owe me.” Click!

Oh yeah, I remembered sarcastically, as I trudged home to hunt for more jobs. After asking the frazzled hotel receptionist whether she paid Nantucket and getting a frustrated no, I sat there. I could just slap something down and it be right. I shook my head. Maybe this is just…    

I started my research, but then flew up to Canada. Throughout the interview process, my shoulders sagged. I called my parents that night in the hotel (after paying Nantucket). I told them I’d move here. Maybe learn and teach French. I didn’t know.

“Do what’s best.” Click.

I helped people where necessary, proving to everyone I realized my special power of being right without even knowing. People acted strange around me. I didn’t feel so welcome—people would just freak out when they saw I was right about my sudden actions.

One day, I visited Mom and Dad. They welcomed me with open arms. After departing from my teary-eyed parents, I thought, Come on, Flint! What’s up? My Subway coworkers just worked beside me, so loneliness wrapped its arms around me every day. Finally calling my parents, I bewailed.     

“I know, son, but, please, just do the right thing.”

Soon, I got a call from that hotel receptionist about paying Nantucket. When I returned, I told her I did. Then I asked her whether I should explain the whole money dilemma to him after slapping him some bucks. She smiled and nodded briskly. “Yeah! You have a knack for knowing things without figuring it out. Weird but…” She shrugged. “Whatever.”

“I guess it’s just that I like helping others.” I shrugged limply. “I guess…yeah.”

But as life went on, so did the woman and me. I mean, I saw her frequently when checking into the hotel, but that was it.    

A year later, my parents met her, but I blushed at their excitement at their son befriending such a patient, kind woman. But, I pursed my lips, I was always in my head. I was always thinking to myself. Could I be with her and in my own world? Would she get frustrated? I didn’t know. We talked, and the weeks became months of dating. She didn’t mind, admitting she did the same.            

After exchanging rings, we enjoyed our honeymoon up in Alaska. One weekend, my wife read Velvet, a she-wolf on the wolves’ sign. “She had vacated the premises shortly after her pack took off running through the woods, and she escaped to Bolton Valley, Vermont, getting lost in the woods.” The wolf and I made eye contact, and I waved to her. She trotted over to me.

I put out my hand, and she gave it a long kiss. I guess, I thought, helping others is what I do best. I don’t need others’ gratitude for me to know I’m doing the right thing.        

That night, my wife told me she’s seen me muster through pretty tough things all with a good attitude. “Thanks, Flint. For always making me smile! And,” she winked, “for paying Nantucket.”     

I nodded, hugging her back. I guess…I can do something right for once. But not just for a wolf.