Wolf's Cry

Sorry for the long absent update. However, here's the next installment, hope you like.

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Chapter Four
Curiosity


The next morning Lasha came downstairs to find her mother making breakfast and her father coming in from outside in a foul mood.
“Dad, what’s wrong?” the teenager inquired. The farmer responded with a curse and mummers.
“Oh, looks like something came in last night and killed one of the sheep” Lasha’s mother said putting a plate of waffles on the table.
“Oh no, which one” asked Lasha sadly.
“How do I bloody know” muttered her father, “Their sheep, they all look the same”
“They do not” protested Lasha. She couldn’t help that she was an animal lover. Even though the sheep weren’t exactly her cup of tea, she still loved the balls of wool. Hell, she fussed at her parents when once a mouth they decided to prepare lamb for dinner (lamb doesn’t mean baby sheep are killed. It’s an adult sheep that is eaten, quite different than veal). Mr. Berks wondered often if his daughter would ever grow out of this sympathy for the fate of live stock. (Most likely not)

“Well you know what this means” Mr. Berks announced tiredly, “Means we got to re-wire the fence. Damn coyotes” the man grumbled. Seizing a poor, innocent waffle, and then proceeding to dumb it on his plate and savagely tear it apart in his frustration.
I guess the sheep were restless about something after all. Poor thing maybe if I had paid more attention maybe I could have prevented it? Or maybe not, thought Lasha. The vision of the sheep in Past- Quinland suddenly popped in her mind. I wonder…no…no way that wolf couldn’t have followed me here…right. Crap! What if it did…know that’s crazy, but then again so it a time-traveling- well. God why me! Lasha thought bitterly.
At some point Lasha finished her breakfast and made her way to her beat-up, forest green and rusty pick-up truck. Not glamorous by any stretch of the imagination, but then again this was a rural New England town.
At old dark thirty, did Lasha roll up to the school parking lot. The sky, though still dark, was giving way to the gray morning. Lasha grumbled to herself. The air outside was cold and her bloody heater was on the fritz, and it was too early. Okay, being a daughter of a farmer, she had to wake up early, but farm chores were more interesting then school; thus, why Lasha was discontent in her truck, huddling in her coat for warmth, muttering about the stupid heater.
“Why did I come early? Damn” cursed Lasha. She looked around at the almost empty parking lot. Her eyes widened when she saw a beat- up, retro red mustang a few spaces beside her. Everyone knew that the red mustang belonged to one Kyle Brightenson, and the Kyle seemed to be lying on top of the hood of his car.
Without further motivation, Lasha exited her truck and braved the cold of the early morning. She made her way towards the resting boy.
“Um…morning Kyle” stated Lasha a few feet a way.
A Tired green eye opened. “Morning Lasha” came a soft reply.
“Why are you on top of your car, isn’t cold?” asked Lasha.
“I don’t mind the cold. Besides I find it relaxing to watch the dawn…sorry that must sound weird” replied Kyle shyly.
To say Lasha was astonished would have been a under statement. Kyle never acted shy about anything, he was Kyle after all. However, Lasha pulled herself out of her thoughts and answered the boy, “No, it’s not weird at all. I guess watching the sun rise is relaxing”
Kyle opened both eyes and gave a gentle smile that warmed Lasha’s heart.
“Thanks. You got the time?” Kyle asked sitting up.
“Um…six forty-five”
“Oh, I guess I been out here a while” Kyle said off- handedly
“How long have you been here?” asked Lasha
“Since six twenty”
“That long, you must be freezing” yelped Lasha.
“Not really, it is not as bad as it is up in Canada in the winter. Now that is cold” chuckled Kyle.
“I guess” The town knew that the Brightenson’s were avid hunters. In fact many times a year, Mr. Brightenson would drag his son up to Canada to hunt, often in the dead of winter.
He must have good endurance then, thought Lasha.
“I guess I should get up” states Kyle moving off his car. It was then Lasha noticed Kyle’s right hand was heavy bandaged.
“Oh my!”
“Oh…that” remarked Kyle off- handedly; looking at the wounded hand “No big deal. I cut myself deeply the other night. It’ll heal”
“Oh”
“No worries Lasha” smile Kyle “Shall we go in now?” asked Kyle.
“Yeah, I’ll just get my bag” stated Lasha. Together, the two teens made their way towards the school building. Though, Lasha couldn’t help but notice that Kyle seemed sluggish today, and that his usual bright eyes seemed dull. He looked like he was caring a boulder on his back.
“Kyle…are you sure you’re all right?” asked Lasha. Her question seemed to surprise the boy.
“Yeah…I’m fine. I told my hand will be fine…”
“It’s not that. Its …well…like…like…” Lasha struggled to find the right words to describe her thoughts, “Like you have the world on your shoulders…” she finished.
Kyle seemed really shocked, “…Really…I…I guess its stress…I can’t believe you noticed…I must have let my guard down” the last bit of the sentence was whispered.
“Huh?” stated Lasha.
“It’s nothing Lasha”
“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to be nosy”
“Nah, it’s fine, sorry I guess…I…”
“If there is something bothering you, maybe I can help. Or I mean its… not any of my business, but I still want to help…I …well…um…its up to you…I just…”
“Its okay, Lasha… I get it” said Kyle, hushing Lasha’s ramblings.
“It’s just that if something is bothering you, it usually helps to talk to someone about it or at least that’s what I’ve been told…” Lasha stated. The poor teen started to feel embarrassed now; she was rambling nonsense to Kyle Brightenson. He must think so lowly of me right now, thought Lasha sadly.
The teen girl dared to look up into Kyle’s face, only to be greeted by a serene smile. “Thanks Lasha, I’ll keep your advice in mind” he said as the two reached to doors of school. “I’ll see you around and thanks again” With that the boy walked away.

Fang dragged himself into the school building, muttering the entire way. Last night wasn’t a good night for sleeping. Thoughts of Lasha and barking kept him awake most of the night; thus, why a cranky Fang was muttering to himself as he went to Orchestra class.
Orchestra…man maybe I should lay off the demanding school activities, thought Fang bitterly. Orchestra, hockey, school play, and a job, by the grace of the Great Spirit it’s a wonder I haven’t gone crazy. Maybe a school play was a little much for my senior year, and then again, it sure as hell with make my transcript look better. At that thought, Fang felt slightly better about having so much on his plate. However, the teen still muttered about it being far too early for Orchestra.
Nonetheless, the tired teen carried himself and his violin case into the Orchestra room. Most of the students were already present in the classroom; then again the bell hadn’t rung yet.
Fang made his way to his chair, which happened to be first chair for the first violin section. Yes, Fang had a musical talent; though he preferred the country fiddle with its Blue-grass than classical violin with Vivaldi, yet he still felt proud of himself for making first chair. Soon, his attention diverted to the door as Lasha walked in. Indeed she and Fang had the same band class, yet, rather than play the violin, Lasha played the piano; very well in fact. Actually, she had a weird rivalry with Fang. Fang had no clue why the girl considered him competition (though, Fang chalked it up to some feminist thing) but he played her game regardless. After all he would welcome any attention from the young brunette.
Not a moment after stepping into the classroom the fair Lasha set her sights on Fang; her eyes bright with determination. Fang inwardly scoffed at her antics, but egged her on by giving her a smirk of superiority. In truth, this method may not have been the best tactic to use to win the fair maiden’s heart; then again, Fang had his manly need to prove himself. Well, in turn, the female wasn’t impressed. Lasha narrowed her eyes at the boy before moving towards the piano.
A few more students walked into the class, idle chit chat began while the students began to tune their instruments. The bell rang just as the music teacher entered the room and closed the door.
Mr. Wills was a nice guy, despite being in his fifties and teaching band, orchestra, and chorus in the same school each day. The man really loved his music and his students, for that Fang respected him. Hell the man even listened to rock; the man was a saint (in Fang’s opinion). Fang had always had a love for music as long as he could remember. He vaguely remembered his father played the violin, thus inspiring him. Since his father died when he was young, Fang treasured the scattered memories of his father when he was alive for Fang’s short years of existence. One could say that his obsession for music stemmed from his need to replicate his absent father; thus why Fang’s dream was to become a music teacher or professor.
In reality, Mr. Wills greeted his class with an aged smile and a whole-hearted “Good morning”. By habit the class always responded back with a tired version of the same phase.
“Come now” Mr. Wills boomed “You all can’t be that tired. When I was young I was always full of pep”
“Yeah, back in the radio days, old man” replied Fang good-naturally. The class snickered.
“I see the early morning hasn’t slowed your witty remarks, Mr. Linton” replied the teacher with a chuckle. “Perhaps since you have some energy, you can entertain the class with a selection”
Fang shrugged and stood up from his seat. “Any requests, professor?” asked Fang cockily.
“Something from Vivaldi, from the top of your head smart guy” Wills smirked.
Fang had to flinch at that, Vivaldi with no sheet music, just memory. However, Fang was not about to back down from a challenge. Puffing his chest out like a confident buck that had just grown his antlers, Fang took his position and began.
To say Fang was gifted would an understatement. His playing was beautiful and could give the devil a run for his money. Fang expressed the bolt from the blue style of Vivaldi very well. Fang did half a piece before stopping.
“As good as always Fang” praised the elder man.
The class chapped and Fang was about to take his seat when he noticed the sour expression of Lasha’s face. I see the competition bug has bitten, might as well ruffle her feathers, thought Fang slyly. “Problem, Lasha” Fang called, bring attention to the pouting brunette.
Lasha knew that Fang had talent in music, and she respected that. In fact she always swoons when Fang plays the violin (though she would never admit it). The fact of the matter was that Fang was good at a lot of things and he was full of himself. With that said, music was one of the only times, Lasha could bring Fang down a few pegs (in the name of feminism, of course). With that said Lasha raised her head up confidently and replied to Fang.
“It was good, but a little sloppy” she commented.
“Oh really, can the kitten do better?” mocked Fang with a smirk.
“Yes” called Lasha.
The class was starting to talk amongst themselves; it wasn’t unusual for the two to start bickering about who played better. In all this, Mr. Wills just shook his head at the argument. Perhaps any other teacher would tell the two to settle down and let it go, but not Mr. Wills. He loved the fire of competition and rather encouraged the rivalry. With another shake of the head and a smile on his face, the elderly teacher got the attention of his most vocal students. “It looks like a challenge has been issued, class. Since you two are so full of pep, let’s have a dual.”
The bickering between the two stopped to stare at their teacher. “Yes, why don’t you two do a duet and then the class and myself will judge who was better, how about it?” asked the old man with a smile. Well, with the prospect of showing the other up, how could two crazy teens pass up the opportunity? They didn’t.
Fang and Lasha took their places and began. Both of them played the same piece from Vivaldi; Fang on the violin and Lasha on the piano. Fire raged in their eyes as the two battled, all the while creating a most wonderful sound.
Fang could charm the strings of the violin well, seducing the strings with ease. However, Lasha was master of the keys on the piano. Ever since she could remember, she loved the piano. Her mother said that she had a natural talent for the instrument since at a very unheard of aged. All in all, both of them had passion for the music and they we’re very good at it. In any case, at some point during the class the two stopped and waited for the results. The class cheered and clapped for the two; Mr. Wills just smiled.
“So…” began Fang
“Who won?” finished Lasha.
Mr. Will turned his eyes to the ceiling and scratched his chin. He gave the rest of the class a knowing look before turning to the two, impatiently waiting teens. “Well…I have to say that both of you did very well…and if I had to pick a winner I would say that would be…” Fang and Lasha hung of every word, waiting for the end result. “Would be…both of you…” he announced.
“What!” the teens cried in intrusion.
“Sorry, I simply can’t tell who was better. You both were wonderful, oh well, better luck next time. Now that the hams have been fed, lets all have a go at playing then”

The class passed quickly, in no time the students were backing up their things to travel to the next class.
“Attention, drama students and students in the cast please report to the auditorium” came a voice over the loud speaker. Oh what fun, they could miss their next class because of the play.
In all reality the cast had a limited amount of time to prepare for the play. The performance would be on the final week of October, before Halloween, during the annual Pumpkin Festival. The festival was always held on the final week of October and lasted for two days; with the festival during the day, the play would go on at night at the community theater. Good thing, that Wolf’s Cry was a rather short play, however, the students still had to work their butts off. The cast had to get as many rehearsals as possible before opening night.
Today, the cast were going over the opening songs and dances for the play, much to the displeasure of Fang. The first song of the play was one of the lamest excuse of song he had ever heard. It sounded like a slashed version of the town anthem.

Chorus
“Welcome to…
Quinland, Quinland, Quin-land!
Our beloved little town
Friends and family all gathered-around

We’re not big, we’re not grand…
But that’s suits us just fine
We love our small patch of l-a-n-d
And what yours is mine…”

Seriously, how lame was that? Sadly that was only the chorus and the first verse. At least, Fang didn’t have to sing that horrible song. In his opinion his wolf song was much cooler. At least it had an edge to it, not like the gay “Quinland” song.
In any case the rehearsal showed that the cast had a long way to go, before they could be considered decent. With forgotten lines and blotched dancing, the drama teacher had her work cut for her. After an hour and half of bad rehearsing the drama teacher let the teens go to their next class.
“You were good, Lasha” said a Kyle.
“Thanks” blushed a shy Lasha. “I still think I need work”
“I think we all need work, a lot. I forgot the entire song” laughed Kyle.
“Well at least you didn’t trip, like me” They both laughed at that. Lasha felt like she was in heaven.
Fang being nearby rolled his eyes at the dull conversation. God, does she have to be such a fan girl, he thought bitterly.
“Hey, Lasha me and the gang were going to the diner after school you want to come?” asked Kyle. Lasha felt her heart flutter at the opportunity to go somewhere with Kyle.
“Sure, I love…” her statement was interrupted by a loud cough. Lasha turn to see one Linton looking at her sourly. It clicked in her head that she promised to finish the project at Fang’s house. Her daydream of sitting together with Kyle deflated. “Sorry I can’t I have a project to work on” she responded cheerlessly.
“Oh, well some other time then. Got to go” replied Kyle with a smile, before turning and walking away.
Lasha watch her leading man leave with sad eyes.
“Sorry to burst your bubble” came a sarcastic remark from behind. Lasha really wanted to turn around and glare at the boy, but knew it was rude of her to try and make plans when she had a previous engagement.
“Its fine, sorry I forgot” she said turning. This statement threw Fang off guard, but he should have figured that Lasha wasn’t trying to ditch him on purpose; Lasha was way too polite to do that.
“It okay, so see after school?”
“Yeah, um did you drive here?” Lasha asked.
“Nope, I’m guess you did, so you can drive to my house, right?”
“Yeah”
“Well, see ya”
“Bye”
The two teen went their separate ways only to meet again after school.

At some point during the day, school was finally over. Lasha waited by her old pick up, she didn’t have to wait long for Fang was already walking up.
“Ready?” he asked
“Yeah, let’s go” responded Lasha.
“You need directions?” asked Fang, as the two teen got in the old vehicle.
“It is Old McGuire Road, right?”
“Yup”
“Then I’ll find it” Lasha stated as she started up the truck. All in all, she was nervous about going to Fang’s house. She had never been there before, and it was further out of town then her own home was. Also the concept of being alone with Fang, in his house; oh yeah, things weren’t well for the female. “Are we going to be alone at your house” asked Lasha, trying to keep her voice even.
“Nope, Olivia should be there” stated Fang, not even looking at Lasha.
“Okay” Lasha felt a little better about having another person around, but then again she had never met Fang’s older sister. Fang is a pretty rough guy, what if his sister is the same? Like some sort of biker chick. Oh man, what she doesn’t like me or something and goes all over protective big sister on me. Crap! Okay, I am over- reacting. Calm down, she could be nice…or not. Lasha’s thoughts ran rampant all way to the Linton house.
Lasha stopped thinking as she made her way up the long winding road to the house, deep in the woods. At first look the house looked creepy, with the dark background of the woods, and front lawn of copper pine needles and leaves. A few old shutters swayed in the wind, making creaking sounds. A lonely ax was impaled in a tree stump a little ways from the porch. Generally speaking, Lasha was apprehensive about entering the old home.
“Hey! You coming?” called Fang from the porch.
“Coming” Lasha hurried to catch up to the boy, and they both entered the home.
“You want something?” asked Fang, trying to be a good host.
“I’m fine, thank you, though”
“Kay, hey! I’m home” called Fang into the house. “Okay!” came another shout.
“You want to meet Olivia?” asked Fang. Lasha managed a nod before following Fang deeper in the house.
Olivia was once again parked in the dining room with papers about the table. Her honey eyes glanced up at the approaching party and smiled warmly. “Hello” she said.
“Hi” replied Lasha. Lasha felt better to see the older woman smile normally and not like a mad person. In fact, Olivia looked very friendly and nothing like a biker chick that Lasha has thought up before.
“I’m Olivia, Fang’s sister. You must be the famous Lasha Berks” Olivia stated, giving a sly look to Fang. Lasha looked confused; had Fang mentioned her to his sister?
“Yes, well…you two have met so; Lasha and I are going upstairs.” Barked Fang, before hurrying Lasha out of the room; he didn’t want Olivia saying something embarrassing. A perplexed Lasha said nothing as she was hurried up the stairs. Olivia smiled and vowed to bug the two a little later.

Fang pulled Lasha up the stairs quickly, for fear of the sadistic nature of Olivia. Up the stairs and down the hallway, Fang stopped at the second door of the passageway.
“This is it” remarked Fang as he opened the old brown door and entered first. Lasha was greeted by forest green walls covered in posters and a dark hardwood floor with an assortment of papers, magazines, and books laid across it. A bed sat in the right corner of the medium sized room. Dark blue and grey covers laid across the bed in a semi messy way. A guitar stood proudly in the left corner of the room along with a desk and chair. All in all, the room did scream the habitat of a teenaged boy.
“Sorry if it’s a little messy. I got up late this morning and had to do hack job” commented Fang as he settled on the floor. “Hope you don’t mind the lack of seating” he asked.
“No its fine” replied as she settled on the floor as well. Lasha dug in her book back as Fang was turning here and there searching the floor for his papers. Lasha glanced as the boy lifting and papers with a scowl on his face, it was cute.
“Where are you, you damn paper” muttered Fang under his breath.
“You lose something?” asked Lasha, suppressing her giggles.
“Huh, oh it’s the information we need, I put it here somewhere and it seems to be playing hide and seek with me. My organization skills need work” replied Fang. The busy boy could keep game plans, practice times, book locations, and song notes in his head, but had trouble remembering where he put his keys and what cabinet held the peanut butter, sad.
“Where the hell are you” growled the boy.
Lasha decided to take pity on the poor boy and join the search. After lifting a few papers near her she found the missing paper. “Is this it?” asked Lasha smiling.
Fang glance at her than the paper “…yes…” he grumbled and took the paper.
After the lost paper mystery, the two teens began to work. Thirty minutes in, Fang decided to start conversation.
“Hey Lasha” asked Fang.
“Yeah?” Lasha responded looking up.
“May I ask you a question?” the boy asked looking the girl’s eyes.
“Sure, what is it?”
“About your adventure in the basement”
“What about it?” asked Lasha wearily.
“When I pulled you out of the well, you were wearing a dress, and you did come to rehearsal in a dress” stated Fang, “explain”
Lasha’s brain shut down of a second and then restarted. Crap! What do I do? I can’t tell him the truth; he’ll think I’m crazy, thought Lasha nervously. Be named call at school was enough; Lasha didn’t want to be taunted by Fang. I need a excuse, thought Lasha.
“I…I found the dress in the prop room, and so put it on, to…to get into character” Lasha replied.
“Okay, then why did you wonder into the basement?” asked Fang raising an eyebrow.
“I got lost in the dark and found myself in the basement, knotted into a trolley, and it went into the wall; it broke and there was the well” said Lasha quickly.
“I see, well Lasha there are a few things wrong with your story. One, there are not costumes for the play in the prop room. Second, the prop room door that is under the stage is locked until opening night. Finally, your excuse about getting into character is lame at best. So how about the truth” said Fang with a smirk. Got ya, girl, thought Fang proudly.
What the hell he, a freaking detective, thought Lasha. The gig was up and Lasha knew it. “You wouldn’t believe me” replied Lasha quietly.
“Try me” answered Fang.
“I got the dress from Milo from the play. You see the well is…is…a magical-time-traveling well and goes back in time where the play takes place” muttered Lasha with her head turn down. There I said it. Let the mocking begin, thought Lasha dejectedly. The girl took the chance to glance up at the boy, to find both his eyebrows up and a what- the -hell expression on his face.
“A magical-time-traveling well?” Fang repeated.