Raised by Wolves

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

“WHAT HAPPENS NOW, Kai?” Holo asks once it’s just us and Dougie. He looks uncertain and small, like spending a night in jail shrunk him somehow.

A wolf in captivity is not a true wolf.

“Look,” I say, “it’s all part of the adventure, okay?”

Holo scowls at me.

I get it. Being in jail doesn’t feel like an adventure. It feels like torture. When I reach out to ruffle his hair, he ducks away from me. He’s too old for that now, I know. I just keep forgetting.

“They’re going to let us out soon, I promise,” I say. “What we did really wasn’t so bad. No one’s going to press charges.”

I say it firmly, so we both have to believe it.

A little while later the chief comes down the jail hallway with a man so old and thin he looks like a spring breeze could blow him away. I’m wondering what this skeleton in a long white coat could’ve done to get himself arrested, when the chief leads him over to our cell and smiles like he’s bringing us a treat.

“Kai, Holo,” the chief says. “This is Dr. Meyer. He’s going to take a look at you two. Make sure you’re good and healthy.” Then he says to the old man, “Dr. Meyer, this is Holo and Kai. I’ve never met anyone like them before. They’re very interesting children.”

You don’t know the half of it, cop.

“You can’t surprise me anymore, Chief Greene,” the old man says airily. “I’ve seen everything under the sun.”

“You seen kids raised by wolves?”

“You bet I have,” the old liar says.

Holo and I press ourselves against the back of the cell when the doctor comes inside. I don’t want that man anywhere near me. He’s creepy and he smells like the stuff we used to clean up Holo’s pee. Also we’ve never seen a doctor in real life before, and I have no idea what he wants to do to us.

“Don’t worry, you two,” the chief says. “Dr. Meyer is Kokanee Creek’s most experienced physician.”

“Because he was a doctor for the dinosaurs,” I whisper to Holo.

“Doctor Dino,” Holo snickers.

Dr. Meyer’s too deaf to hear us making fun of him. He says, “Like Chief Greene says, I’m just here to give you two a little checkup—just to make sure you’re healthy and happy.”

“Healthy, yes,” I say. “Happy, no.”

We’ve got to get out of here.

He lifts his stethoscope and says to Holo, “How about you let me listen to your heart?”

Holo growls at him. If he had hackles, he’d raise them.

The doctor takes a step back and says, “It’s not going to hurt, buddy.”

“Holo doesn’t care about pain ,” I say. I’ve seen my brother fall twenty feet from a tree, wipe off his bloody knees, and climb right back up again. “He cares about you keeping your veiny hands off of him.”

Dr. Meyer blinks at me in surprise. “All right, I’ll just take a seat. When you’re ready, young man, you can come to me.” He sits down on the edge of Holo’s bed. He crosses one old, creaky leg over the other.

No one says anything for a long time. The chief clears his throat. Randall keeps looking our way. The doctor whistles jauntily. We ignore them all. Holo and I can sit quiet and still for hours. Days . The woods taught us how.

Finally Dr. Meyer looks at Holo and says, “‘You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose.’”

And Holo’s eyes go wide, because he knows those lines by heart.

I butt in. “But my brother doesn’t actually have shoes ,” I say. “The chief only gave us these dumb socks.”

Dr. Meyer acts like he can’t hear me. He smiles at my brother. “Do you know Dr. Seuss?”

Holo shakes his head. “No. I’ve never met him.”

Dr. Meyer laughs, and the chief shushes him. “What Dr. Meyer means is, have you read Dr. Seuss books ?” the chief explains.

Holo doesn’t say anything.

“Holo, can you read?”

“Yeah, the wolves taught him,” I say. “After a nice dinner of raw elk, we’d always have story time.”

Holo giggles. Then he starts ripping up the napkins from our breakfast and throwing the pieces into the air like confetti. The chief looks annoyed. Good.

“I can recite every single one of Dr. Seuss’s books,” Dr. Meyer tells us. “The rhymes help distract kids when they’re about to get their shots.”

My whole body stiffens. “Keep your needles away from us, old man.”

Dr. Meyer blinks watery blue eyes at me. “No shots today, dear. We must get to know each other better.”

“I’d rather not,” I say. “And don’t call me dear.”

The doctor sighs and turns to the chief. “Should I come back another time? Tomorrow’s full, but I’m available the day after at four p.m.”

Two days ? I can’t wait two more days to get out of here; I’ll go insane. I step toward him. “Fine, I’m ready,” I say. “You can examine me first.”

“That’s a good girl,” he says.

I snarl at him for calling me “good girl.” But I don’t flinch as he takes my blood pressure and listens to my heart and lungs. Then he looks into my ears and eyes and down my throat.

“You seem to be in excellent health,” he tells me. “The wolves must be taking very good care of you.”

He says this like it’s a joke. I growl.

He turns to Holo. “Young man, are you ready?”

My brother nods. He’s nervous. The doc wraps the cuff around Holo’s bicep and listens with his stethoscope. “Good, good,” he says quietly. He peers into his ears. “Good, good, good.”

But when he asks Holo to open his mouth, Dr. Meyer’s face goes white. He looks like he’s about to have a heart attack. He calls the chief over to look.

“The boy’s teeth appear to have been filed into the shape of fangs ,” the doctor says. He puts his hand on Holo’s shoulder and asks gently, “Did you do this to yourself?”

Silence from Holo. Silence from me, too. Obviously my brother wasn’t born with razor-sharp canines. But predators need every advantage they can get.

“It looks like the boy’s got wolf teeth, doesn’t it?” the chief says.

Dr. Meyer nods. “Indeed, his canines are distinctly… canine.”

“You ever seen that before, Doc?” I ask.

He shakes his old white head.

“I guess you haven’t seen ‘everything under the sun’ then.”