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    Justin4Fun
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
If you'd like to buy me a cup of coffee, a donut, a bale of hay, or a horse, visit Justin's Ranch

Lone Wolf Ranch - 20. Chapter 20

Dakota

 

Dakota was lost in thought as he drove out of town. So lost that Robin insisted he pull into the parking lot of the grocery store and let him drive after watching Dakota drive through two traffic lights that were red. When Dakota parked, Robin got an idea. Rather than jump in the driver’s seat, he told Dakota to follow. He went inside, grabbed a cart, and headed for the meat section.

Picking out four large steaks, he put them into the cart, then turned back and grabbed a large chuck roast, also placing it in the cart. Dakota just followed along as Robin picked out five large potatoes, a bag of small, round potatoes, a bag of baby carrots, and two large bags of pre-mixed salad. Glancing up at the overhead signs, he found the aisle he wanted and headed to the spice section. After searching for a few minutes, he chose a packet of pre-mixed spices for pot roast, a small jar of garlic powder, and a large jar of steak seasoning. In the next aisle, he picked up two different brands of steak sauce and headed toward the checkout.

When they were loading the truck, Robin kept a close eye on Dakota, worrying about his brother’s state of mind. As they pulled onto the road, Dakota finally spoke. “It’s a lot to process, brother. I’ll be fine, but I do appreciate your concern.”

Robin grinned as the road left town, and he sped up. He glanced at his brother and said, “I don’t know enough to give you any advice other than to keep an open mind, bro. It’ll be hard but try to ignore what you’ve been taught and read what he has. It’s possible that the truth is somewhere between what you’ve been taught and the records that he has.”

Dakota shrugged and replied, “Depending on how old his records are, it’s possible that what I’ve been taught is no more than the myths of a group of illiterate—"

“Don’t you ever let me hear you talking like that about your ancestors!” Robin snapped. “I’m ashamed that you’d even think like that.”

Dakota flinched, then said, “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I would never disrespect the Diné. But faced with something they knew nothing about, it’s natural that they would explain it in terms they could understand. If they had no history to depend on for guidance, the natural instinct is to assume we’re evil. As time went on, the stories evolved into what they are now.”

Robin took a moment to process that before he spoke. Finally, he nodded and said, “That’s fair, but the fact that they didn’t read has no bearing on things. If I remember what you’ve told me, the Navajo didn’t have a written language until they were introduced to one by white settlers?”

“That’s correct. They adapted the Latin alphabet to their needs in the 19th century,” Dakota replied. “Before that, they depended on oral history that was sung to the young until they could sing it back, word for word.”

“So, it is possible that this oral history changed over time, if only slightly? And the tales of supernatural creatures that were considered myth would be the ones most likely to change, especially if they were used to scare children. Before they learned the true history, they were told tales of the boogeyman.”

Dakota sat and considered Robin’s words. At camp one year, they had played a game called ‘telephone’, where several kids lined up, and the first was handed a piece of paper with a short story on it. After reading it, they folded the paper and whispered their recollection of the story to the next person in line. This person passed the story on to the next, and so on, until the final person heard the story. This last person would then tell the story to the group. Without fail, the stories were so different from what was written down that they were almost unrecognizable but usually quite funny.

Dakota was still thinking when Robin pulled into the driveway and parked. As he was getting out, they were greeted by Jonas and Naiche, who came running from the backyard. Dakota picked up his son and spun him around, thrilled by the sound of the screaming boy.

“Hello Yázhí diné. What have you two been doing while Shizhé’é and Shida’í Opichi were in town?

Naiche scowled at Dakota and replied, “Daddy, you said we need to use English.”

Dakota laughed and said, “Yes, we do, little human, I’m sorry. What have you two been doing while Daddy and Uncle Robin were in town? Is that better?”

Giggling, the little boy replied, “We was playing in the yard, like you said. Jonas tried to hide, but when I’m da fox, I can smell him no matter where he hides.”

Dakota turned to Jonas and asked, “Is that true? Did he find you every time?”

“It ain’t fair,” Jonas pouted.

Robin reached over and tickled his nephew and said, “Then I’ll have to remember not to try to hide from your fox, won’t I?”

Naiche giggled again. “I can smell you when I’m a bobcat, too, so I’ll still get you!” He proudly stated.

Dakota and Robin were both laughing when they entered the kitchen. When Wamblee asked why they were laughing, they related their conversation, which brought a similar reaction from the octogenarian. As Robin took the steaks to the grill, Dakota wrapped the large potatoes in aluminum wrap and then placed them around the steaks. When he was done with this, he sat with Robin and Wamblee as they watched the boys playing in the yard.

“We ran into an old friend of yours, Shinálí. Unk Tehi was coming out of Wolfer’s as we were going in.” Dakota said, watching his grandfather for a reaction.

“I see,” the old man calmly replied. “And what did Drake have to say?”

“We didn’t get a chance to speak with him; he had somewhere to be. We did, however, have a long talk with Shamus O’Faolan. He had many things to share with us, things that have me, well, troubled.”

“What did he share with you? I’ve heard he has a new grandson living at the ranch. Did you meet the boy?”

Dakota hadn’t heard this news but wasn’t going to be distracted. “He didn’t mention a new boy, but I suppose we’ll meet him in the morning. Robin and I were invited to his ranch to look at some manuscripts in his library.”

“I wasn’t aware that he had manuscripts that might interest you. May I ask what you are troubled about?”

Dakota was certain that his grandfather knew about Shamus and his pack, but on the off chance that he didn’t, he had to respect his neighbor’s privacy. Avoiding any direct mention of the fact that Shamus was a shifter, he told Wamblee what he had learned in their conversation. When he was finished, the elder Two Guns sat quietly contemplating the information.

Rather than interrupt his musings, Dakota stood and called for the boys to come get cleaned up for supper and then set the table. Robin had been tending the steaks while his brother and grandfather were discussing the possible connection to Loki, and he now took them off the grill. Carefully stacking them with the potatoes on a platter, he carried them inside, followed shortly by Dakota and Wamblee.

The boys were putting the final touches on the place settings as Robin placed the platter of steaks and potatoes on the table. Dakota picked up Naiche’s plate, placed a steak and potato on it, then proceeded to cut both into bites for his son after putting half of each on Jonas’ plate. While he was doing this, Wamblee gathered drinks for everyone, and Robin helped Jonas cut his steak. Wamblee was quiet during the meal, while the two young boys were eager to tell of their adventures in the backyard. Hearing them talk, they spent the afternoon on a safari through the jungle.

After dinner, Jonas and Naiche cleared the table, bringing everything to Dakota so he could load the dishwasher. Robin went outside and cleaned the grill while Wamblee helped the boys choose a movie. There was a glint in his eyes as he made his suggestion and artfully helped the young boys decide that they really did want to watch his choice. Overhearing their conversation, Dakota laughed when he realized why Wamblee had chosen what he had.

When everyone congregated in the living room, Jonas started the movie; it was obvious that Naiche hadn’t seen the case for Disney’s animated ‘Robin Hood’. His squeal of delight in finding the main character was a fox brought smiles to every face, and everyone burst into laughter when the young boy suddenly became a fox and curled up to watch the animated adventure.

Long before the movie ended, there were two boys sound asleep. Technically, there was a boy and a small fox. As Robin picked up Jonas, Dakota scooped the sleeping fox into his arms. After placing the two in Jonas’ bed, the brothers returned to find Wamblee sitting at the table in the kitchen. He glanced up as they entered and nodded towards the empty chairs opposite where he was seated.

“Opichi, something you said earlier concerns me.”

Robin squirmed, nervous that he had offended the Two Guns elder. “What was that, Grandfather?”

“You told Dakota that what he and Naiche did was none of your business. The boy’s comment about enjoying being licked certainly sounded like something inappropriate had happened, yet you told Dakota that you wouldn’t judge him.”

Robin shook his head as he said, “It never crossed my mind that Dakota would do anything like that. I imagined him licking his belly and chest, playing. Like an older brother would tickle a little boy.”

Before Wamblee could reply, Dakota said, “Your faith in me is appreciated, but Shinálí is right. You never know who might be harming a child and you need to protect them. I’m willing to bet that Shinálí asked Naiche about the licking while you and I were in town.”

Wamblee nodded. “Like you, Robin, I didn’t doubt my grandson’s actions, but I still asked the boy. He said you were licking him while you were both shifted, like a mother cat would its kitten.”

Robin slowly nodded. “Considering some of the things I heard from other boys at the ranch, I guess I should have been more aware. I’m sorry, Grandfather.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I just wanted to be sure that you wouldn’t allow something like that to happen. I thought your silence might be coming from a concern for your position in this house. If it was, I wanted to assure you that this is your home; nothing you can do will change that.”

Robin choked back the tears that were forming. “I will try to live up to your faith in me.”

With a smile only a grandfather can give, Wamblee said, “Just be the best man you can be. It’s all I ask.” Glancing at Dakota, he asked, “I assume you’ll spend most of the evening running in the woods?”

Dakota’s mouth fell open in shock. “You know about that too?”

Wamblee chuckled. “Now that you’re a father, you’ll realize how little really gets past parents. You’re not the first young man to sneak out of my house after I’ve gone to bed, Ashkii. I remember following you outside the first time you snuck out; I think you were about Naiche’s size. When I watched you shift into your panther and run into the woods, I knew you’d be safe.” Turning to Robin, he added, “Anytime there’s something bothering him, he spends most of the night in the woods.”

Dakota blushed. “I do, Shinálí, which is why I’m glad Naiche is asleep with Jonas. I was hoping—”

“You know your pup is welcome to stay here. Will you take him to Lone Wolf Ranch in the morning?” Seeing the look of confusion on Robin’s face, Wamblee explained, “Shamus O’Faolan’s ranch is called the Lone Wolf; appropriate, wouldn’t you agree?”

Dakota gave his grandfather a side eye as he said, “It seems you know a lot more than you’ve shared. Rather than stalking the woods, maybe I should stay here and learn all the things you’ve kept from me all these years.”

The old Sioux medicine man smirked. “If you did, you wouldn’t see Shamus until tomorrow evening. As it is, most of what I’ve kept from you simply isn’t my story to share, just as I don’t share your nature with others.”

“I understand. I just wonder what I’ll find tomorrow and how that knowledge might have changed my beliefs had I learned it earlier in life.” After contemplating this for a moment, Dakota shook his head and said, “I cannot see the future with tears in my eyes.”

Robin started to ask, but Wamblee quickly explained, “It’s a Navajo proverb; it means you cannot move forward by focusing on the past.”

Standing, Dakota said, “Nor can I clear my head by sitting here talking all night. If the two of you don’t object, I will see you in the morning for breakfast.” He could feel his brother’s concerned stare as he walked out the back door.

Once outside he quickly shifted and took off toward the southwest. As the scents and sounds of the night enveloped him, Dakota could feel the stress leaving his body. Long ago he had discovered that when he embraced the form of an animal, his mind took his human concerns and pushed them to the background where they processed in his subconscious. Usually, when he emerged from a night of prowling, the solutions to issues that confounded him earlier seemed almost obvious.

With this in mind, he let his senses guide him; stalking a small herd of deer as they grazed in a hayfield, following the trail of a coyote for a few miles, and snacking on a squirrel that had the misfortune of making too much noise. As he lay in the tree licking himself clean, he gazed over the landscape around him. To his right he could see the lights of town and hear the noises coming from the bars and restaurants; to his left was Leiberg Peak. On impulse, he crossed the dam and headed for Beaver Creek reservoir, hoping to add some fish to his diet.

Several minutes later, he realized that he was now on Lone Wolf Ranch land and would soon be passing through the fields behind the main house. Rather than adjust his course, he decided to head closer to the house, curious to test his stalking abilities against a pack of wolf shifters. Mr. O’Faolan had told him he was free to roam the ranch, and the worst thing that could happen would be his having to reveal himself and explain.

As he neared the house, he could see light in several of the windows on the main level as well as two of the windows upstairs. Deciding he wanted to relax and watch the house, Dakota searched for a perch. Seeing the metal roof on the machine shed, he realized he’d never be able to get traction to walk on it. As he prowled forward, he saw the stable had a nice shingle roof with several places where he could lie down and observe. He sprang onto a small shed, then deftly leapt onto the much higher stable roof and crept around to a spot where he could survey his surroundings. Once he settled in, he heard an occasional snort, sigh, or blow from one of the horses below him.

As he relaxed in his perch, Dakota listened to the sounds around him. The horses below had quieted but there was a burrowing owl hooting off to his left and once, off in the distance, he heard the distinctive scream of a badger. His attention was drawn back to the house when a light came on upstairs, followed by a second a few moments later. Shortly after this, another light came on upstairs, in the opposite corner of the house. After watching the lights for a few minutes, Dakota began to wonder why he felt pulled to this spot; short of listening to conversations inside, he could learn nothing from watching lights go on and off, and he respected Shamus too much to commit such a breach of privacy.

He was about to stand and head for the reservoir when a teenage boy walked out the front door and sat on the steps, apparently talking on a cell phone. The light from the house cast the boy’s face in shadow so that, even with the enhanced eyesight of a panther, Dakota couldn’t see who he was. He resisted the temptation to listen, but he couldn’t help but overhear small bits and pieces of the conversation. The boy was obviously upset and talking to someone named Jack about wanting to drink, or more correctly, about not wanting to drink. As he watched, Dakota sniffed the air, searching for any hint of a familiar scent. He couldn’t identify who the boy was, but the scent was drawing him toward the boy.

Without conscious thought, he stood and stalked to the edge of the roof. He was about to leap off the roof and approach the boy when he realized what he was about to do. Dakota froze at the edge of the roof, then slowly lowered into a crouch; hoping the sky behind him was dark enough he wouldn’t be easily noticed if the boy looked up. It didn’t matter; just as he refocused his gaze on him, the boy stood, turned, and went inside.

Shaken by how the boy’s aroma had affected him, Dakota quickly leapt from the roof and ran toward home. As he ran, he contemplated what had just happened. Never in his life had he felt such a strong pull to be near another person. The desire he felt was similar to his need to protect Naiche, but different. With his son, his wish was to protect and guide; to teach him about things and prepare him for a life on his own. With this unknown boy, Dakota’s cravings were to protect, but there was no need to guide; rather, he felt he needed to accompany, to encourage, and to support. The strangest part was the steadfast conviction that this boy felt these same desires and would support him in return.

No clear answer came to him and soon he was climbing the stairs to his apartment. After a shower, Dakota shifted back to his panther form and curled up on his bed. For the first time in his life, he returned from a run more confused than when he had left. Maybe sleep would clear his head.

Copyright © 2023 Justin4Fun; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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