The Wolf Who Cried "Boy!"

The Wolf Who Cried “Boy!”

♪ “We ain’t no delinquents,

We’re misunderstood,

Deep down inside us,

There is good.” ♪

-The Jets Gang, West Side Story

“I know why you won’t go out with me, Marcie.”

“It’s not that, Big Bad. It’s not that at all. It’s just that… well, it’s…”

It was that. It was always that. Ever since the night of the big storm, when little Big Bad lost contact with the pack and wandered down off the mountain into this small town, it’s been that. He was alone, without family or friends, and different… very different.

Children can be cruel.

“Hey, Big Bad, what a big nose you have!”

“Ha, ha, ha.”

“Hey, Big Bad, what big ears you have!”

“Ha, ha, ha.”

Loneliness is a tough enough adversary on its own. Adding relentless teasing and ridicule made life nearly unbearable for little Big Bad. Bitter and angry at the world, he turned to the dark side. Bigger than the rest of the kids, he unleashed a reign of terror, and he often found himself in the principal’s office.

“Big Bad, you’ve got to stop taking other kids’ lunch money. That is not acceptable behavior. And, Jesus Christ, just how many lunches can you eat?”

“I’m sorry.”

“And the biting has to stop.”

“They’re really just little nips, sir. It’s not like I’m ripping their fingers off or anything like that.”

“Still not acceptable. If you keep doing these things, we’ll have to send you to the school for bad children. And trust me, you won’t like it there.”

Marcie was the one person who showed him some compassion, and they soon became good friends. In their later years, the friendship became uncomfortable for Big Bad as he wanted more out of the relationship, and he knew in his heart it could never be.

“Big Bad, Jimmy says you bit him today.”

“He had it coming, Marcie. He called me a Four-Footed Fury Freak.”

“I know it’s hard, but you can’t keep biting people. They’ll send you to the school for bad children, and you don’t want to go there.”

In the end, Big Bad couldn’t deny his nature. Birds fly, fish swim, and Big Bad was born to bite. He was sent to the school for bad children.

----------

His tempered aggression was difficult for the bad boy school’s therapist to understand. There was no ripping or tearing of flesh as he would have expected. It was always a controlled bite, barely leaving a mark.

“There may be some good in you, Big Bad. We just have to find it.”

Good, bad, whatever, Big Bad no longer cared. He was taken away from the one person he could call a friend. He grew more bitter by the day. They labeled him “bad”? He’d show them what bad looked like.

Fire alarms pulled at all hours of the night, dormitory hallways flooded, stink bombs in the teachers' lounge, and staff having to wear protective gloves to prevent their fingers from being bitten. Big Bad had his own lunchroom to keep him from extorting food from the other residents.

His only happiness came with the letters from Marcie. She wrote to him every week. He wrote to her every day.

Dear Big Bad,

I hope you’re doing ok. My mother says she might be able to drive me up there someday to see you. I miss our talks and our walks around the lake. Take care.

Your friend,

Marcie

Dear Marcie,

This place is terrible. You were right. I should have listened to you and stopped biting people. I can’t wait until this is over. I miss you.

Your friend,

Big Bad

And then the letter he didn’t send…

My Dearest Marcie,

I miss you so much. I think about you all the time. Your letters are the only thing that keeps me going. I wish we could be together forever, but I know that could never be. We’re just too… different.

Love,

Big Bad

It was a toss-up as to who was more relieved the day Big Bad’s stay at the school for bad boys came to an end- Big Bad or the staff and entire resident population. Big Bad was overwhelmed with his first taste of freedom as he walked out the front gate. A left turn would take him home… to Marcie. A right turn would take him to the rest of the world.

Big Bad looked to the sky and traced the movement of a few clouds. He closed his eyes and could see Marcie’s face. He smiled and took a step to his left. But then those two terrible words slapped him in the face- forbidden love. Nothing mattered now. Big Bad took a hard right, and he was off to see the world.

----------

He wandered from town to town, unwelcome everywhere. As he approached an area of homes, the terrified screams pierced his ears and stung his heart- “Wolf! Wolf! Get into your houses!” He had never hurt anyone, and yet he was feared and despised. He understood the why of it. Because of the misdeeds of ill-tempered wolves that had come before him, Big Bad was now the victim of serious species profiling. Being saddled with the name given him by his macho-minded father didn’t help. He recalled the words of his mother just before the storm- “Life isn’t fair, Big Bad.”

Headline-seeking editors across the country greatly exaggerated Big Bad’s travel and exploits. He was spotted everywhere, and his reported deeds became more shocking with every edition.

“Big Bad Terrorizes Tranquil Town of Tucumcari!”

“Hundreds of Flights Cancelled After Big Bad Spotted on Runway at O’Hare!”

“I-94 in Wisconsin Closed After Big Bad Seen in Area.”

“Montana Rancher Loses Herd to Big Bad.”

The sensationalized reports put Big Bad in the same category as other terrifying historic figures- Blackbeard, Attila the Hun, the Dread Pirate Roberts… Big Bad. All the while, he was unaware of the hysterical, inaccurate media coverage of his wanderings. There was one person, however, who followed his reported travels closely.

Marcie was disappointed and saddened that her friend could do such things. In Big Bad’s absence, she took the arrows.

“Hey, Marcie, I see your friend Big Ears is in the news again!”

“Ha, Ha, ha.”

“Hey, Marcie, I hear your friend Big Mouth stole cookies from a bunch of Girl Scouts!”

“Ha, ha, ha.”

“Hey, Marcie, I hear your friend Big Bushy Tail is terrorizing nursing homes today!”

‘Ha, ha, ha.”

Marcie heard it almost every day, but she would not condemn her friend.

“There must be an explanation.”

“Yeah, here’s an explanation for you. He’s a wolf, Marcie, a wolf! Hello. That’s what wolves do. Didn’t your mom read any books to you about wolves, like Little Red Riding Hood? Didn’t you see The Howling or The Wolf Man? Wolves are mean, nasty critters.”

Marcie was conflicted. She searched her heart. She liked Big Bad. Maybe “that” really was the reason she couldn’t ever see Big Bad as more than a friend. They were just too different. She was troubled by it.

Marcie planned a welcome-home party for Big Bad on the night of his release from bad boy school. She made a big sign and put up balloons and streamers. The guest list was short- Marcie, her parents (for Marcie’s sake), the parish priest (“all are welcome”), and Becky from “Canine Cutters” where Big Bad got his hair trimmed. But Big Bad didn’t get off the bus that afternoon, and she never heard a word from him. Marcie’s mom understood none of it, but she was sympathetic… to a degree.

“I’m sorry, Marcie. You went to such trouble. The guy must be a real jerk.”

Her father’s reaction was more pragmatic.

“Can we cut the cake now?”

----------

Big Bad was growing tired of life on the road, even though sometimes his first contact would be with people who were more tolerant and accepting of the fact that he was so different.

“You must be hungry. You can at least stay for dinner.”

“I don’t want to impose. I…”

“You’re not imposing. Sally always makes a little extra. And you can stay in the barn if you need a place to sleep.”

Fortunately, Big Bad’s propensity to bite diminished in direct proportion to the kindness shown, and he could relax in the comfort of a place he could call home, at least for a few days at a time. But “that” always caught up with him.

“Holy crap, Mr. Johnson! There’s a wolf in your yard!”

“I know, but he’s a nice wolf, Tommy.”

“Mr. Johnson! Are you nuts?! There are no nice wolves! They are mean and vicious! You’ve got your wife and children to think of.

“I’m sorry, Big Bad… it’s not that… it’s just that… I need the barn.”

It was just “that”, and poor Big Bad would have to move on.

----------

One sunny afternoon, while roaming the western slopes of Colorado, fortune smiled on Big Bad. From atop the peak of one of the foothills of the Rockies, he looked down upon the valley below and saw a hobo camp of wolves nestled between a bend in the Colorado River and the railroad tracks.

Abner was the first to notice him. Shaggy brown fur, heavy with threads of white, he was the patriarch of the pack. Abner stumbled forward and narrowed his eyes to focus on the visitor.

“Welcome, son. Where are you from?”

“Montana, not far from Butte.”

“You’ve come a long way. Join us. We’re just sitting down to eat. You must be hungry.”

Family. Big Bad had vague recollections of the family he lost in the storm, but one memory was solid- his mother was sweet and kind. He sensed the same in Abner’s voice, and the feeling of family quickly wrapped its arms around Big Bad.

At night, the elders would hold court around the fire and tell tales of survival- hunting, seeking shelter, and escaping from the men with rifles; moms and dads would teach their children the skills needed to thrive in the wilderness; and the toddlers would wrestle and chase their tails in the glow of the campfire. Big Bad loved every minute of it.

“Have you been here a long time, Abner?”

“We’re never anywhere for a long time.”

“Why’s that?”

“People. Eventually, they find us, and we have to pack up and move on.”

“What do the people do?”

“At first, it’s just harassment, you know, name-calling, taunts, insults. Then they might start throwing sticks and stones. If we don’t leave, they show up with rifles.”

Big Bad understood. He had lived it. But he asked anyway.

“Why do they do that?”

“Mostly because we’re so different… and of course we’ve gotten such a bad rap… you know, from books and the movies. There have been some bad wolves, and like they say, a few bad apples can spoil it for the rest of us.”

Big Bad reflected on his own experiences. He certainly had been teased, but thankfully, he had never been shot at.

“Teenage boys are the first and the worst, Big Bad. They must have some kind of a sixth sense, or more likely, they’re just on the prowl to make mischief, but they are always the first to find us. They’ll throw insults at us, and maybe a few stones, and then they get the others.”

Abner spoke with a wistful resignation to the plight of his pack.

“Once a teenage boy is spotted, we pack up and leave. We don’t want to wait around for the sticks and stones… and God forbid, the rifles. We always have a wolf posted at the perimeter of the camp to serve as a lookout. If he sees one, he cries out ‘Boy!’, and we get moving.”

“You post a lookout?”

“Yes, it's a sad reality of our lives, Big Bad. You’ll get your turn for guard duty.”

“Do I get a gun or anything like that?”

“Heavens no. We’re not a violent bunch. You’ll just need your eyes and a loud voice.”

----------

Big Bad was living in a true community- every wolf had a responsibility. His first assignment was hunting. At the end of his first day, he presented his work product, a badly damaged grey squirrel, to Abner.

“Uh… Big Bad, you hunted down and bagged this squirrel yourself?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“Big Bad, there are tire marks on this squirrel. This is roadkill, isn’t it?”

Big Bad lowered his head and spoke in a whisper.

“I’m sorry, Abner, I just couldn’t do it. I had a rabbit cornered, but I just couldn’t do it. I’m sorry.”

Abner smiled.

“That’s ok, Big Bad, we’ve had conscientious objectors before. We’ll put you on the firewood gathering crew.”

Two weeks of normalcy… work, regular meals, naps in the sun, socializing with all the other wolves. Life was good.

“Big Bad, you have guard duty tonight. Just pick a spot on the ridge and keep your eyes on the valley below.”

Early evening. The moon was just rising over the mountain. Quiet and peaceful. Big Bad reflected on how lucky he was to have stumbled into his new family, and of course, he thought of Marcie. He always thought of Marcie.

He heard the voices before he saw the movement. Three boys… with rifles.

“There have to be rabbits around here somewhere.”

Hunters! With rifles! Big Bad turned and sprinted down the hill. He could hardly get the words out.

“Boy! Boy! I mean, Boys! Yes, Boys! And they’ve got rifles! Boy alert! Boy! Boys with rifles!”

The word “rifles” prompted the fastest camp move on record.

The scene repeated itself, over and over again. Set up camp along the railroad tracks, enjoy a week or two of tranquility, and then hurriedly pack up and move. Despite the teasing and taunts he endured as a child, Big Bad was beginning to miss the stability of home.

----------

“Abner, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. You brought a stranger into your home and treated me like family. I’ll always remember you… all of you.”

Hugs and tears all around, and Big Bad was on his way.

“Stay close to the river. You’ll find your way. And watch out for those boys!”

Big Bad traveled from sunrise to sundown, taking only short breaks to rest, for every step brought him closer to home… and Marcie. He was excited to see her, but at the same time, he was scared. He had been gone for three years, and he worried about how she’d react to his return. Would she be happy to see him? Or angry because he never even wrote? Worse, would she even remember him?

Big Bad teared up when he saw the church steeple on the horizon. Home. He remembered every bit of it. He’d be at Marcie’s house in minutes.

The name on the mailbox was the same. The lights were on. He could see the silhouettes of three people at the dining room table… Marcie, her mom, and her dad.

Suddenly, he was terrified. If this went badly, he’d be crushed for life. Maybe she had a boyfriend by now and would have no time for him. Maybe he should turn around and go back to Abner and the pack he had grown to love. Six hundred miles and four sore feet told him he had to ring that doorbell.

He held his breath as the door swung open, and Big Bad saw… Marcie’s mom.

“Marcie! That goofball friend of yours is here.”

Marcie looked puzzled as she got up from the table and walked to the door.

“Who is it, Mom? What friend of…”

Everything stopped as their eyes met. Both hearts froze but quickly fired up again.

“Big Bad!!”

Marcie threw her arms around him and cried. Big Bad broke all tough guy wolf protocol and cried like a baby.

“I was so worried about you! Where have you been? Why didn’t you call or write?”

They sat together on the sofa in the living room. Big Bad explained why he didn’t return home after bad boy school and where he had been the past few years.

“And what did you learn, Big Bad?”

“I’m back.”

Marcie caught her mom listening at the door.

“Let’s go for a walk.”

They went to the lake, sat on a wall at the shoreline, and talked for hours. Big Bad had a lot of explaining to do.

“I didn’t do any of those things you read in the paper. Little Red Riding Hood was lost, and I took her to her grandma’s house. Some young reporter from the local paper saw a little girl with a wolf and assumed the worst.”

“And the Three Little Pigs?”

“Straight up insurance fraud, Marcie. Their houses fell apart because they went on the cheap when they built the damn things. They needed a story to collect on their insurance.”

“But what about the boy who cried wolf?”

Big Bad clenched his teeth and spoke slowly with conviction.

“That’s not exactly how it happened.”

Marcie paused for a moment and then looked into Big Bad’s dark brown eyes.

“I’m sorry, Big Bad.”

“You’re sorry? For what?”

“I was wrong. Maybe it was that. I was afraid of what others would think. I’m sorry.”

Big Bad’s heart was getting close to stopping again.

“The town’s fall dance is this weekend. I’d be honored if you would take me.”

Now his heart did stop.

“I’d love to, but I have to warn you.”

“Warn me about what?”

“I have four left feet.”

Smiles.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll lead.”

The moon slowly made its way across the night sky, but Big Bad and Marcie remained fixed in place, sitting on that wall, leaning on each other, without saying a word.