She dreamt of them again. You could tell by the look in her eyes that she didn’t get enough sleep. She can’t sleep after she wakes up and after she wakes up she lies on her bed, still thinking about it. Sometimes she goes to her mirror, looks at it as if she is waiting for an answer to shine across the reflection of her dark skin. Other times she would go down to the kitchen and have a glass of milk, thinking it would stimulate the answer that deserves no explanation. Other times, when her father wasn’t there, she would go to where her mother used to sleep and lie there till the sun rose, then can act on like nothing ever happened, act like it wasn’t bothering her, act like she didn’t miss her mother, act like she didn’t care about her father’s drunkenness, act like she was happy.
She ties her thick black hair in a ponytail like how she does every morning and cooks breakfast. She beats two eggs in a bowl, pours them over the pan and puts it over bread. She does this four times. By the time she is done, a short boy appears in the kitchen grabs a plate of food. He stares at her with every bite he takes, waiting for her to say something. She pays no attention to him and instead opens the fridge and removes mango juice in a jar. She takes out three glasses and pours the thick juice into them, handing one glass to the boy without a word. The boy sips the juice. His eyes squint and lips purse in disapproval.
“It’s so bitter Jani,” he says “Bitter and cold.” he says. Jani looks at him and smirks. She puts the pan in the sink and begins to wash it. “You have to start learning this you know.” She says, "Someday it will be your turn to cook and wash the dishes.” The boy acts like he doesn’t hear a word of what she is saying and instead asks “Where is Katherine? She should be here by now.” His eyes are still squinting from the bitterness of the juice.
“She will be here soon,” she says wiping her hands on a paper towel. She grabs a glass of juice and stands opposite the boy. Sipping slowly, trying to read his mind.
“Why are you standing here? ” a voice says. It's Katherine.
“Is that Mamas lipstick?” Jani asks.
“Yes it is Mamas."Jani looks at her with disapproval of her presence.
Katherine pulls a chair next to Jani. She takes a bite of her food and says “Did you have the dream again, the one with the wolves?
“Yeah.”
“Is it the same one over and over again?”
“Yes the same one with the wolves”
“Is it scary?”
“At times.”
“Not all the time?”
“No, no not all the time Katherine.” Jani replies as she takes a sip of her juice acting like she is not interested in the topic.
“What dream?” Brandon asks.
“It’s nothing Brandon” She smiles politely.
“I want to know Jani. I’m your brother I want to know.”
“Maybe she won't tell you because she doesn’t like you.” Katherine says. Brandon looks at Jani thunderstruck as Katherine starts giggling.
“She is just joking Brandon. I like you,” says Jani.
“Then why won’t you tell me?”
“Because you are too young to understand.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t understand myself.” Jani says. Katherine squints her eyes and purses her lips as she takes a sip of the bitter mango juice.
Jani puts on her red coat and black boots. She takes a basket and puts some fruits in it and in a bottle, pours the bitter mango juice. She looks at her brother and sister and says “When Papa comes tell him that I went to see grandmother.” She pauses waiting for them to ask any question but their minds seem to be empty.
“Oh!” She says in certain realization “Brandon it is your turn to watch the sheep.”
“But it is raining!” Brandon complains.
Jani put her red hood on and told him “Carry an umbrella.” She opens the door and gazes at the rain falling abundantly from the roof. She turns to Brandon. “Watch out for the wolves”
___________________________________
Brandon sighs as he walks through the green grass. Cold air escapes from his lips which contribute to the unknown story of life and all its fatal flaws. The bleating of the sheep brings him back to the drowsy grey life that they thought he lived in. He holds a mustard staff that is too long for him; he tightens his grip when he hears the sheep bleat.
Did you have the dream again, the one with the wolves? The words echo through Brandon’s tireless mind. The wolves Brandon whispers to the sheep. His sheepskin pelts falling over his shoulder, but did not seem to mind. Watch out for the wolves he thought. He snorts as he looks over the horizon, unknown lands, mountains beyond mountains. Rain water softly falls over the grass as the grey sky gently cried. Brandon looks up trying to figure out if the abyss gave out any light. The sheepish sun hid behind the thick grey clouds. Brandon doesn’t see it; he doesn’t want to see the hope between his own dome and that of the other world.
He was thinking of Mama again, he loosened his grip from the staff. Ever since she died he got into the habit of living in his own thoughts. Papa would patronize him, his breath thick with alcohol “When I was your age I killed my first wolf” He would say “What are you doing Brandon? What have you done? Watched sheep? Ha” His laugh echoed around the halls.
He wished he dreamt about wolves too; his dreams too often seem dark and deceitful. He would run to Katherine’s room-just the way he would for Mama- taking caution not to wake Papa up, but most of the time he was not there. He was busy getting drunk while he was still drunk. The thought of Papa sent chills up his spine. But he wasn’t always like that, not when Mama was around.
His mind stood still and at that moment the sheep stopped bleating-he smiles; he is thinking of Mama. He thinks of her smile; the gap between her two front teeth that signified beauty in a crazy bourgeois land, he thinks of how she would tell him if you call out to the wolves they will come for you… he shakes the thought away. He doesn’t want to set himself up for happiness when he simply knew that it wouldn’t last.
He has been told that he is too smart for his age by Mama, Jani and Katherine. Papa refuses to look at his good grades and it is up to Katherine as the oldest to sign his forms for school.
He shakes out the thoughts of his family, unaware that he is shaking his head too. His mind can only be infatuated with one thing; he can only let himself be infatuated with one thing. Wolves. Wolves he whispers wolves. He closes his eyes and takes in a breath wolves.
___________________________________
The road is long and unexpected for Jani. Maybe it’s the smell of the wet green leaves that trail along the woods, or maybe she is thinking the way her father always used to take her out hunting for wolves. She was infatuated with them, their grey, white or black fur; darker than the night sky; their eyes, so deadly. Looking at them was an addiction for her, dreaming about them was something else.
She looks up to see if there is hope in the sky. Mama always told her that the sun is a gift from the gods to show humans that their day has been blessed. Hope was lost and covered with thick clouds of despair and pain.
The trees are all the same, tall and melancholic, but Jani knows the way. After every hunt with her father, he would bring her to Grandmother’s house. He would cut the pelt out and she would listen to Grandmother’s fake fables. She misses doing that, she was afraid to ask Papa if they could do it again; but in her head she knows that he would simply throw the gun at her and yell at her to leave, you better come back with something worth of my attention. She knows, she had tried, and when she came home all she could remember from that was the foul smell of alcohol and the bruises that his black leather belt had given her.
Her thoughts go a miss when she sees the wooden cottage. She smiles a helpless smile. She knocks on the door, the wood softly bruising her knuckles with each thud. She does this twice and removes a fallen leaf from her red coat. Mama made me this coat she thinks to herself. She fingers the marvellous detail of it, no other colour but red. She moves her hand to her head and slowly removes her hood.
Grandmother hugs her and smiles, her toothless smile. She misses four teeth and every time she spoke, a ‘th’ was added to where it was never supposed to be.
“Jani!” grandmother says, one of the few words she could say properly.
“Yes grandmother, I have come with bitter mango juice and fruits” Jani says as grandmother laughs. She wasn’t much of a talker but she did her best around Jani.
“Come inth, Come inth.” Jani understood what she meant well enough and entered the cottage.
It’s warm and the smell of porridge hit Janis’ face. It smells like home to her. She takes off her black boots but keeps on her red coat. Her grey socks search for warmth on the carpet as she sits down. She reaches into her basket and pulls out the bottle of mango juice. Grandmother slowly rushes into the kitchen to get two glasses. Jani pours the mango juice into each glass, each time making the same sound as it did in the morning. Grandmother squints at the bitterness.
“Whath bringths you here, Jani?” grandmother asked.
“Wolves,” Jani says, taking a gulp of the bitter mango juice.
___________________________________
Katherine opens the box filled with mamas’ jewellery. Her favourite one is the one with brown beads. She smiles as she puts it on. She could almost smell mama. She is in papas’ room. Papa forbids them from entering the room ever since Mama died; but they all missed her too dearly to care what Papa said. For once, what papa said didn’t matter to them.
Mamas’ was the closet closest to the wall. It always had been. Katherine opens it. This is it. This is the reason why she is happier than the rest. The smell. Mangoes. And the first whiff of autumn as it is in the air. This is mamas’ smell.
The smell lived on no longer. It is overpowered by the one thing that Mamas’ magic did not prepare itself for. Papas’ alcohol. Katherine feels tears fill up in her eye but she tells herself that she won’t cry.
“Why are you here?” His voice sounds coy and cold but his red eyes are what frightens her the most. The darkness from behind him makes him look like death himself, crippled by what life gave him. “I asked you a question.”
“I’m sorry Papa. I just…” she stammers. She knows that she has no way of getting out of this.
“You just?” He says as he approaches the bed. “You just –” Then he smells it. Mangoes in autumn. “Close that damn door!” Katherine shuffles off to close it never taking her eyes off him. “Now why aren’t you at school?”
“It’s Saturday Papa.”
“Where are Jani and Brandon?” He says as he rises to approach her.
“Brandon is watching the sheep” Her voice quivers as he stands face to face with her. “And…and Jani…sh-she…she-"
“SHE’S WHERE?!” He shouts as he smacks Mamas’ closet. He shakes her head tightly with his hand on her jaw.
“Where is she? Where is that stupid, stupid girl?” He slaps her when a warm tear hits his hand. He does not like the warmth. “TELL ME!!! WHERE IS SHE!!?”
“She’s at grandmother’s house!” Her scream is muffled with tears. “She carried a fruit basket and wore her red hood.”
He clenches his fist and bangs the closet again. He mutters words to himself as he walks out the door.
Katherine melancholically sits on the floor. She feels weak.
He was poison. His voice was poison, his eyes were poison, and his smell was poison. He unleashed poison in everything he did. Too much of him was simply death. He was poison to himself. Each self-destruction sent mass havoc to his brain which affected who he was. He destroyed himself more than anyone he touched, spoke too or glanced at. He was death to others. But to him, he exceeded that, he was searching for what comes after death.
___________________________________
And once the mango juice was over and the fruit basket empty, Jani sits frozen. Lips parted eyes watery. Grandmother stares, as if she always knew. There is silence, silence from the trees, from the birds, from the wind-they too tried to comprehend-and the only smell is that of the mango juice.
The trees begin to shiver. It is silence to Jani.
The birds start to scream in terror. Silence is Jani.
The wind howls and howls until the doors stood open. Silence.
Jani turns to face him. She is not aghast. She is not stunned. She is not in content. Her face is not shock. Her face is not anger. Her face is not disgust. Her face is not confusion.
He steps inside as Jani stands up. “I know what you did,” she says. “I know what you did. I know what you did. I know what you did.”
“YOU GET OUT OF HERE NOW JANI!!!” He yells at her. He is lost for words.
“I know how you did it. I don’t know why you would do that but I know how. And I know it, and I’m sure I do.”
“DON’T MAKE ME ASK TWICE!!”
“I always dreamt about it. I just couldn’t make sense out of it. I dreamt about ever since that day it happened.”
He says nothing. But his eyes say it all. He placed his hand on his back pocket.
“Remember when you used to take me out hunting for wolves? And that wolf trophy that we kept as a memento of our first success. Do you remember that? Of course you do. We hang it on the wall. It would look upon all of us as we walked down the stairs. It was black wolf, with beady red eyes.
“That night, I heard you shouting and I heard her voice too. It was stern, demanding, and full of terror. So I went down. It only got worse. This time she was screaming. It was a muffled scream. And as I approached the stairs I saw it. The black wolf. I saw the blood spit on it as the scream died. I saw the shadows. I saw your shadow.
“And even though I went back to sleep because I was too much in shock and didn’t know what I saw, there was only one single memory that hunted me every single night since that day. The same way that I used to hunt it. The wolf. The big black wolf. And after all this time I just realised that my dreams were a censorship from me understanding what was going on. I get it now. I understand. There was no wolf that was after me. There was no wolf at all. You’re the wolf in my dreams. You’re the vicious creature that prowls in the depths of night to kill its prey. And all this time I’ve been too stupid to open my eyes and see that I am still living in this nightmare as long as you’re still here.
“I know you killed her! I know you killed mama! You killed her right in front of my eyes!”
Jani trembles down and starts crying. Her wails are those of fear, anger and despair. Grandmother goes to her. Her eyes say all she needed as she stares long and hard at Papa.
Papa removes his hand from his pocket along with a black polished gun.
He speaks words she cannot fathom. He speaks words she could not dare to fathom. He points it Grandmother.
She hears a scream then hears nothing.
She sees blood then sees nothing.
She smells his poison then smells mangoes, mangoes and autumn.
____________________________________________________
Once Brandon called for wolves; the village people came and shouted at him for lying. They saw nothing. But he saw it. A big black wolf. He looked at the sheep bleating wearily at him. As if it cared for his health. I’m fine he whispered to it.
Twice Brandon called for wolves; the village people came. This time not in a hurry, amiss, disturbed. They saw only the green lands and the plain hills. But he saw it. A big black wolf. He looked up. The sun began to slowly shine. No Brandon thought. He didn’t want comfort.
Thrice Brandon called for wolves; no village people came-so they did not see it-they did not see red eyes and the smell of poison. Papa beckons him to come. Brandon runs to him afraid.
The clouds mourn as the rain water seeps out of them. There is no sun.
Brandon looks at the sheep and follows Papa who is ahead of him. He doesn’t look back. He is left to his mind. All he can think of is whether the wolf died.