Short Story: The Wolf's Blessing

So this week has been super busy. Fourth of July was great! I had an awesome time with friends and family. I've been working super hard to get all my Spanish done for the week because we're going out of town for a long weekend tomorrow. But I've been looking through some of my old short stories and remembered this one that I wrote last year. I think I wrote it around Halloween and I decided to revise it and fix it up and put it on here just to share it and see what people think. I hope you enjoy it!

***

Quincy gasped, his breath coming out in short puffs of smoke. He clutched the strap of his backpack and glanced over his shoulder. Police sirens rang in the distance. If he didn’t find a way off this street, they would catch him. He glanced around wildly and his eyes landed on an old graveyard. That would do. Run through there, hop the fence and hopefully it would lead to a different street… far enough away so the cops wouldn’t find him. Good enough.

Grinning, he jogged across the misty street and threw open the rusty iron door of the cemetery, shutting it behind him. He bolted across the rather overgrown graves, jumping over, and dodging grave stones. The sirens were getting louder and when he glanced over his shoulder, he could see blaring red and blue lights.

“Come on, come on,” he murmured to himself as his jogged turned into a sprint. Straight ahead the iron fence came into view between a cluster of trees. He leaped over a particularly large grave stone with a wolf’s snarling face carved into it and hopped over the fence.

Saved. Quincy was saved.

“Thank you, graveyard,” he whispered, throwing the iron gate a salute before bolting across the new street and heading for freedom.

***

Quincy Adams, the youngest and most notorious thief in California at the age of nineteen, stood outside the local museum, which contained small arrow heads and crappy clay jaws from the ancient Native Americans. He shrugged off the wall of the electronic store across the street from the museum and headed casually around the back. One of his buddies had informed him that one of the locals had just uncovered something pricier than a couple spears and clay bowls. A piece of jewelry. A pure silver necklace with a stone wolf looped around it. It wasn’t the silver or the stone he wanted. No, it was the rare blue gems inlaid in the wolf’s eye sockets.

His friend had said it probably belonged to a Native American princess at one point. Quincy could care less. Just as long as the gems got him enough money for a plane ticket to San Francisco. He hugged the wall as he made his way around to the back where surveillance was the heaviest. The front had one camera, the back two, but by the side door on the right of the building had three cameras. Quincy had cased the museum yesterday during opening hours. There was a big gray and blue sign with a picture of the wolf necklace at the front desk. It would be revealed next week on Thursday, just in time for school field trips and several interested collectors would be making an appearance in the small town of Omaho Valley. For now, though it was being held in the storage room in the back.

Quincy couldn’t get back there during visiting hours so he would have to go in blind surveillance wise. He assumed there would at least be five cameras in the storage room, one for each wall and angle of the room. Even with five cameras though, there was no way every angle could be watched. He would just have to watch out and be careful. Holding his breath, Quincy pulled his lock picking tools from the sleeve of his hoodie and got to work. He blew a strand of black hair out of his brown eyes as the lock clicked a minute later and he opened the door slowly. The nice thing about hitting up small, local museums was their crappy security. No alarms. No nothing. Just two security guards to watch the screens upstairs in a loft area.

All the lights were out. Good. That would make it harder for the cameras to spot him. He inched inside, back to the wall and shut the door. This side door led into one of the last exhibits. One with plastic Native Americans’ to showcase how they used to live.

His eyes found the first camera, one pointing toward the dark exhibit with a hut in it and grass. Quincy stayed in the camera’s blind spot, dodging the rest of the cameras by staying close to the walls until he got to the door leading to the back rooms with a sign that said Employee’s Only. He picked the lock, slid the door open and peered inside, scanning the corners of the ceiling. As many cameras in this hall as the front of the museum. And all in the same positions. Good. Whoever owned this place was making his job way too easy.

He crept inside, shut the door quietly and dodged the cameras until he got to the door marked Storage Room. Instead of a key hole this door had a passcode pad beside the knob. Thank goodness, his friend was good at recon. Quincy’s finger shook slightly as he put in the password. If Daniel got it wrong, Quincy would be busted and in jail and neither of them would get what they wanted. As he put in the last number he held his breath and stepped back.

The pad beeped, flashed green and the door clicked open. “Thank you, Daniel,” he murmured under his breath as he pulled open the door. There were more cameras than the front of the museum, but he could handle it. Quincy shut the door and crept inside, staying in the camera’s blind spots as he searched for the necklace.

It wasn’t too hard to find. Since it would make its debut in just a few days, they had it out of its crate and sitting on a plastic neck. The wolf’s blue gem eyes winked at him from the dim moonlight coming from the windows. Quincy gingerly took the silver chained necklace from the plastic neck and set it in the inside pocket of his satchel.

“Piece of cake,” he muttered. He turned to leave when his foot caught on something and he tripped. The palms of his hands smacked against the ground as alarms blared. “Oh crap.”

Daniel hadn’t told him about a trip wire. Who had trip wires anymore? No one used them! Quincy pushed himself up and scrambled to his feet, bolting for the door. The two security guards would be on him in a matter of minutes. Quincy swore under his breath and sprinted for the side door. He didn’t bother keeping in the camera’s blind spots. As long as he kept his hoodie’s hood over his face, he would be fine. He could still make a clean break. And since Daniel failed to mention a trip wire he wouldn’t have to split the money with him. Quincy could pawn off the necklace for a couple thousand dollars, get a one-way ticket to San Francisco and would never have to see Daniel again. Never have to steal again.

He threw open the side door and sprinted down the road, the security guards shouting behind him. No doubt the cops would be on him soon. That though pushed him to run faster. His last run for it. Such a bittersweet moment.

***

As Quincy hopped the rusty iron fence of the cemetery and dashed to the opposite side of the road, he looked to the right and nearly jumped out of his skin. He shrieked and skidded to a stop, stumbling backward. A girl stood in front of him, reaching a skeletal hand toward him–or more precisely the satchel at his right hip.

“What the…?”

The girl cocked her head, a scowl painted on her lips. Her image shimmered, almost as if she were a hologram. She had dark skin, long black hair in a braid down her shoulder that went all the way down to her stomach. And her clothes? She wore a long brown deerskin dress adorned with beads and bird feathers.

But Quincy’s jaw dropped when he noticed the circlet over her brow. It looked to be made of bone and hanging between her eyebrows was a small silver wolf’s head with two glinting blue eyes. An exact replica of the wolf necklace in his satchel.

Quincy Adams wasn’t a believer. He didn’t believe in any sort of mysticism or in a higher power. He believed in himself and in the power of money. Ghosts? Magic? That was out of the question. Until now, because there was no doubt, no denying the fact that the shimmery girl standing in front of him was a ghost. His whole family was highly superstitious. On his mother’s side, they respected and upheld the customs of their Japanese heritage. His grandmother and father on his mom’s side had been the first to live in America. On his father’s side, they had deep roots in Celtic tradition. Quincy had grown up with his grandpa telling him creepy Celtic legends.

One of them said that a person should always exit the same way they came in a graveyard or the person would pull spirits out their graves. Those spirits would haunt the person who broke that particular Celtic custom.

Quincy should have listened to his grandfather’s warning.

“Who are you?” he whispered, the cops and the fact that he was now a wanted man escaping his thoughts.

The girl stepped forward in a pair of moccasins and she pointed at his satchel again. Could she even talk? “Tala. I am Tala and you are a thief,” she said, her chin raised high, her finger still pointed at him. Her voice sounded broken. As if she had a thick, ancient accent Quincy had never heard of before.

Quincy’s hand went to the satchel at his side. Thief? How did she know he had her wolf pendant? She was a ghost, so maybe ghosts could read minds or see through stuff? “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Quincy lied smoothly with a shrug. He took a step back and gestured toward the graveyard. “Why don’t you go… lay back down and take a long rest and I’ll just be on my way. Sorry to disturb you.” 

Tala shook her head, her strange blue eyes narrowing. “I cannot. Not until you return what you have stolen. It is rightfully mine.”

“Oh, you mean the necklace…? Well, you see I need it to get somewhere. I’m in a bit of trouble and I need to make a run for it, so would you mind if I borrowed it?”

She scowled, her lower lip jutting out in an almost pout. No doubt she had to be the Native American princess the pendant had belonged to. Once a stuck up princess always a stuck up princess, even after death.

Quincy clutched his satchel rather protectively to his chest and gave her a weak smile. Maybe if he made a run for it, he could lose her? Ghosts couldn’t be that fast. They were dead after all.

“Well, it’s been nice meeting you princess, but… I gotta go. Hope you have a good… after life or whatever. Bye.” And with that he turned on his heels and sprinted down the street, staying in the shadows. He turned a corner and then another corner, taking a short cut through a neighborhood. Maybe the ghost girl would forget about him and go back to sleep. She had to miss her afterlife, right? Why wake up and go to all the trouble to be a ghost for some lousy pendant?

He was almost out of the neighborhood, stopping to look both ways before crossing a major road when someone tapped his shoulder. Quincy swore and jumped, spinning around. He slapped a hand over his mouth to stop from screaming and stumbled back when he came nose to nose with the princess. Instead of pouting or looking annoyed, she looked mad. Not good. A mad ghost is never a good thing. He had learned at least that much from his Celtic and Japanese heritages.

“That pendant was a gift from my father,” she shouted, pointing at the satchel. She took a step toward him and Quincy tripped over the curb and into the street. “He gave it to me the day before I died.”

Well… that was sad. Quincy couldn’t stop himself from asking, “How did you die?”

Her anger disappeared and her lips turned down, her face filling with a wistful sadness. “It was winter and I was sick. I remember the pain all over my body. I threw up blood and had a horrible fever. No healer, not even our best healer could save me. My father knew I was coming to the end of my life journey and so he came to me, gave me the wolf pendant, and kissed me on the forehead. He said I would forever be remembered as his little wolf, his warrior princess.” Tears welled in her eyes and Quincy didn’t know what to do. Crying girls were the scariest things in the world, especially crying ghost girls. Should he hug her or comfort her or say sorry that she died? Or… just give her the pendant? She must have lost it when she was buried or perhaps someone had stolen it from her body years ago. It had turned up a good few miles in an abandoned field, nowhere near where Tala had been buried.

Her father had given it to her. Given the necklace to his dying daughter to give her some comfort. Quincy warred with himself, but before he had even made a decision he was already reaching into the satchel. His hands closed around the pendant and he pulled it out. Tala’s eyes widened when he held it up in the street light. Those priceless blue gems twinkled. Tala’s lips broke into a faint smile and she reached for the pendant.

No one could know about this. Know that Quincy was going soft. That he had turned over his one chance for a clean break to a girl because he couldn’t stand watching her cry. Not to mention she had a pretty good sob story and the excuse of being dead. She couldn’t tell anyone anyways. Her fingers closed around the pendant and she gasped as if reunited with life itself.

Quincy stepped back onto the sidewalk as a car whizzed by and watched as the princess clutched the pendant to her chest, right over her heart. She whispered something in a different language, tears welling in her blue eyes. Eyes as blue as the brilliant gems in her wolf pendant and circlet. Perhaps her father had found the twin gems in the mountains or nearby and they had reminded him of his daughter’s eyes.

She looked up at Quincy with an expression as if he had restored her to life. “What is your name?” she breathed.

“Quincy Adams…”

“Quincy Adams,” Tala said, holding a hand out toward him, palm facing him as if she were about to bless him. And that was exactly what she did. “Because you have returned my most prized possession and allowed me to complete my unfinished business by restoring my lost pendant to me, I bless you with a long life and eternal health. Sickness and fever will never touch you. You will forever be blessed and under my protection. To seal my blessing and my promise, I give you this. Wear it always.”

Quincy’s eyes grew wide as she pulled one of her beaded bracelets from her wrist and held it out to him. It had a blue feather, and a tuft of gray fur hanging from it. Not wanting to disrespect her final wish he took the bracelet and slid it onto his wrist. She closed the distance between them and her chillingly cold palm rested on his forehead. “My blessing is finished. You will have a good life Quincy Adams because of your generosity. My wolf will watch over you.”

“Your wolf?” Quincy asked.

Tala nodded. “Yes. My spirit. When I enter the next world, my spirit will become a wolf and it will look after you. Goodbye Quincy Adams. Watch for my wolf.”

Quincy’s jaw dropped as her shimmering form turned to mist and Princess Tala disappeared. He hoped she would be reunited with her father in the world beyond this one. Quincy wasn’t sure how long he stood there on the curb staring at where the ghost princess had been but when he finally blinked himself from his daze and looked up, the sun was coming up. He needed to get out of there before the cops widened their search party. It wouldn’t bode well for him if he got caught for stealing a pendant he didn’t have.

Dwelling on Tala and her blessing, Quincy shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and walked across the road, still heading for the bus stop. He would find a new way to get to San Francisco and to his family.

***

Three years later Quincy had righted his life and was living in a small town-house in San Francisco by the golden gate bridge. He’d scored a high paying job at a local museum while he finished up college. For three years now he hadn’t missed a day of classes, or a day of his work. Sickness didn’t touch him, not even when there was a flu outbreak at the local college or when everyone at the museum came down with a horrible fever. Quincy Adams was healthier than a horse and every day he thanked Tala for her blessing.

On his fall break, he went back to the town where he’d robbed the local museum (they had never caught the culprit or found the priceless wolf pendant) and went to the graveyard. Upon an hour-long inspection of each gravestone he found several in the back that were falling apart and ruined from old age. These gravestones weren’t like the others. They held ancient symbols, blessings and curses no doubt. Quincy bent down when he found one marked with a wolf, no name on it. The upper half had chipped off and was gone, the bottom half had sunk into the ground and only half of the wolf’s face was visible.

Quincy bent down and touched the crumbling gravestone. “I hope you’re well Tala. You helped turn my life around and I will never forget you or what you did for me. I look for your wolf every day. Thank you,” he whispered.

He patted the stone and left the way he had come, not wanting to wake anymore of the dead. As he shoved his hands into his jean’s pockets and headed down the street a noise caught his attention. A whining, whimpering noise like a puppy. Glancing around Quincy walked across the road and down the street. The whimpering led him to an alley between two old buildings and Quincy stopped. Sitting there in front of him, wagging his tail and painting was a puppy. A wolf puppy. She yipped and whimpered, running over to him.

Quincy narrowed his eyes and glanced over his shoulder before bending down and scratching the puppy’s ear. “What are you doing here girl?” he whispered.

She yipped and licked at his hand, practically jumping into his arms. Suspicion dawned on Quincy as he scooped the puppy up into his arms and turned to stare at the graveyard a few feet away. “Tala?” he asked, turning back to the puppy.

Her tail wagged and she licked his hand again as if answering. Quincy grinned. Guess the whole look for her wolf thing hadn’t been figurative. She’d meant it literally. This wolf pup was meant for him. He rubbed behind her ear and stopped at the graveyard gate. “Thank you, Tala. I’ll take good care of her.”

Nothing happened, but he didn’t expect anything to. So, he turned his back on the graveyard, pick up his little puppy he called Tala, and walked away, headed for his car. He’d have to drive home from here instead of taking a plane. But that was okay. It was worth it if he could keep his new little friend.

Quincy Adams wasn’t a believer. He didn’t believe in a higher power or in superstitions. His family did and they reminded him of that at every holiday occasion and family reunion.

But Quincy Adams did believe in one thing now. Princess Tala had led him on a new life path, a new journey and now with proof of her existence snuggled in his lamp and wagging her tail, Quincy Adams believed in the supernatural.

The End

-Melody Perosnette-

***

Have a great weekend everyone!!