Savage Wolf

Savage Wolf

A Story by Earl Schumacker

Love and life in the wilderness


Savage Wolf

An old cedar bridge provided the only passage way to the Granger cabin. It was a precarious slow drive over Dirk's Ravine to get there. The ravine was steep. The bridge was fragile. The Granger's cabin was beyond it on the other side just about a mile up, a mere stone's throw away on a rocky bumpy dirt road.

It was more of a narrow trail meant for horses not vehicular travel. Large 4 wheel drive SUV's and trucks with over sized tires could make the journey more plausibly.

Old Eldridge Dirk discovered and laid claim to this land about a hundred years ago. He was a hunter/trapper who had enough business sense to buy up several acres of this magnificent virgin territory back at a time when doing business was much simpler. Time caught up with him quickly, much faster than even he thought possible, as well as old age, which forced him into an early retirement with the help of failing health. Eldridge had to sell off most of his acres to a younger crowd and other land prospector/developer types at a low price in order to secure a comfortable life for himself, for the rest of what he might have left of it. The unsold parcels of land went into an estate property management trust to be sold off at some future dates.

Buck Granger bought a half acre from the old man's estate over twenty years ago from the Dirk estate management company. The cabin he built on the land at that time was more of a simple shack, a hunting lodge for him and his drinking buddies. He ended up giving it away to his bonehead son Jason, a bone-fide moron with low to no ambitions to succeed in life. He only thinks with his glands not his mind. That is why he ended up knocking up the local neighborhood s**t, a 13 year old vulgarian called Gina. She was a primitive thing almost out of her own diapers when, here she is about to have babies compliments of the sperm donor Jason.

Ignorance, the gift that keeps on giving was a specialty of hers, though she was not familiar with the term or consequences of that particular condition, which she might well be the princess of, if only she had the capacity for abstract reasoning to reach that conclusion on her own. There is no cure for stupid.

Gina, who also went by the name Gigi was seen frequently around the town square rolling old drunks for coins. She and her low life friends would curse, swear and spit on the elderly. They took pleasure in demeaning the sick, crippled and homeless people of the community.

She and her friends condemned them for being poor and ugly. Some local officials and clergy tried to correct this abhorrent behavior but blocks of wood are blocks of wood and thick bricks are thick bricks.

Nothing was going to change them.

Gigi thought she was something special, just because she travels around now with her new boy friend Jason, in his new smart looking SUV Mercedes. She was spending less time with her gangster friends and more time with him because they were about to start a new life, a new family together.

She was pretending to be married to Jason, who was all of 14 years old himself at the time of this momentous occasion and she was in fact 13 years of age when she gave birth to their unholy child named Sam, who was named after no one special. They just liked the name Sam.

As for their motor vehicle; anyone can own a hunk of metal with an engine in it.  It is not something that makes the person an instant genius as Gigi thinks.  It does not advance the cause of brilliance in society or make the world a better place because she is in it.  She might not be cognisant of the fact that she is in the car let alone the world at large with all that is going on around her. 

Spending any more brain cells or consideration of any added synaptic growth potential in the already overwhelmed brain of the young lady was and is not open to debate as she already knows everything about everything worth knowing.  Life is a piece of cake for the young couple.  In the case of Gigi, it is a matter of trying her hand at baking biscuits on a wood stove.  More about that later. 

The mom and dad of Jason decided to give the young couple the cabin as a wedding gift. It served two purposes. The gesture secured a proper future for their soon to be grandson Sam and it removed two unsavory creatures from the community, from normal society where they do not belong.

Buck Granger could not stand the sight of his son any more. The mother too had become tired of the boy and his immature antics so she was happy see him go. She felt strongly that he did not belong in civilization with regular civilized people. Savages belong in the wilderness along with their misfit mistresses.

It was true. Jason had a sour disposition. He was an ornery young man, mean spirited and egocentric by nature. He and his young wife Gina or Gigi or whatever else she is calling herself these days to appear important, began living a solitary life in the little shack in the back woods with their son Sam.

Gina had been going by the name “Gigi Granger” for the past 12 years. At age 13, getting married to a 14 year old boy was simply wrong. Giving birth at that age was unheard of and just plain dumb, not to mention the simple obvious fact that any and all of these mentioned activities were and continue to be illegal.

She is now 25. Jason is 26. The truth is they never did get married and never had any intentions of ever doing so. They pretend to be “Mr. & Mrs. Granger” for show, for friends, neighbors and even strangers and for Sam's sake of course.

There was a lot of drama in their relationship but they got by adequately. 12 years of being together is a real long time and a real accomplishment for any couple in this day and age of ungodly promiscuity.

When Sam turned 12 years old Gigi and Jason took him shopping for the newest gaming console and

three newly released video game cartridges that involved a lot of killings, blood shed and all around horror. He could not wait to play them. They arrived home early..

Jason had other plans for the boy. He dragged him off against his will to go elk hunting.

Neither one of them had a clue as to what that entailed. Neither one of them had ever held a gun or rifle before and between the two of them it was doubted if either one of them individually or collectively could even spell the word hunting or use it in a declarative sentence let alone fathom its meaning but Buck Granger had left all these wonderful guns and ammo hanging around the cabin so Jason thought it would be a good idea to try them out. Sam had no clue as to what was happening.

It was still early in the day so they headed to the forest but stayed close along the lake path so as not to get lost. The lake was frozen solid with an inch of fresh snow laying calmly on the surface, gently placed there last night by the proper prevailing weather conditions, which were that of thick gray clouds, heavy with their icy white goodies being released over the landscape and on the lake below. The snow that fell had not melted yet due to the settled in cold temperatures which appeared to be dropping lower even at this hour. It looked like the cold would be lingering on, staying there with them to the biter end to keep things as they are for some time to come.

Both men decided on shot guns as weapons of choice. The boy had the presence of mind to bring 2 boxes of shells which he had safely secured in his backpack. They were wearing sneakers and blue jeans. Perhaps not the best idea for a hunting excursion through ice and snow but they were smart enough to bring along hats, gloves and thick winter jackets made of leather for their adventure.

Snow boots would have served them better in this treacherous environment. They slipped and staggered about like a couple of drunk clowns who could not get a proper footing on the frozen ground.

Jason always carried a rabbits foot on a key chain in his left pocket and a set of wooden rosaries in his right pocket for good luck. He was extremely superstitious and tried to cover all contingencies when out and about.. On this particular occasion he had his dad's new shot gun ready, hoping to find plenty of action but he forgot to bring his own ammo. Fortunately Sam had brought along 2 boxes of shells.

Sam was still angry with his dad. All he wanted to do was stay in the warm cozy cabin and play with his new games.

Gigi was back there safe and sound baking biscuits in the wood stove. She had told the boys to be back before nightfall. She was not much of a cook or baker for that matter. The biscuits were burnt to a crisp. They looked like black charcoals when she was through.

No one in the family could prepare an elk. Elk for dinner was out of the question. If the hunters got lucky and killed the animal it would stay there to rot away or left there for the scavengers to figure out what to do.

The timber wolf; truly motivated by the insanity of its savage hunger and the pains associated with that tragic raw condition, fiercely attacks without warning. Energized by the need to feed, it jumped out from out of nowhere, grabbed Sam by the neck with its long penetrating teeth, which quickly sink so deeply into the boy instantly, where the neck snapped on contact, made an awful loud cracking sound as it broke, as the wild animal dragged him off so quickly like a dead ragged doll or some deer being pulled along like so much dead weight into the shadows of the thick forest. The dad had virtually no time to react to what was unfolding.

Jason was in shock. He stood there numbed by the experience. When the cruel reality set in that he had no ammo in his gun and no cartridges on hand, he felt naked and foolish. The boy had the ammo in his backpack. It and his son vanished into the forest. The young man felt defenseless and alone. What would he tell Gigi? What would she think?

He had no choice but to go after Sam or his remains. Wearing sneakers was a bad idea. His feet were already wet, cold and freezing in the temperatures which continued falling. The day was ending rapidly and it became a race against time to find his boy dead or alive. The wolf was gigantic and powerful so he wasn't holding out much hope for any possibility for good news. He heard the snap. He heard the break of his poor son's neck. He had to remain calm.

The fresh animal prints were clearly visible against the virgin white snow and so were the blood stains and impression of a body being dragged along the forest floor through the newly formed path. Jason was not having a good day. His hands and feet caused him great pain as he moved along and the day evaporated into the colder night. He was too weak to panic.

It seemed like an intelligent animal force was at work, coming to life, gaining momentum, gaining strength while he sunk rapidly into despair.

It was like the savage beast knew instinctively that the shotgun had no shells, no bullets, no way to inflict any harm. The lead animal was joined by several of his kind, now creeping up on their meal without fear, driven only by a hunger lust for flesh and blood, the taste of which was almost on their beastly tongues of a frightened little man in his exposed stupidity, in his weakest hour, powerless against the savage wolf.

Back at the lodge, the ever industrious Gigi had succeeded in burning the shack down. She was not fully conversant in the proper use of matches or the science of fire and its relationship to biscuits and wood structures. It had become a hard lesson for her to learn. She was now standing out in the cold reaping the rewards of that harsh lesson.

This land belongs to the wolves. This is their home. They are in their element, though it was sometimes cold and cruel for all concerned. They could smell smoke and burnt biscuits from a distance. They could scent the fear emanating from a frightened silly girl who pretended to be a woman, a wife, a mother, who was in fact lucky enough to have escaped the flames of the burning cabin but perhaps not as fortuitous as you might think as the pack closed in.

© 2018 Earl Schumacker

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Added on November 1, 2018
Last Updated on November 1, 2018
Tags: nature, wolves, experience, ignorance


Earl Schumacker
Earl Schumacker

Atlantic City, NJ

B.A. Degree in Literature and Language. I enjoy writing short stories, poetry, novels and keeping up with new scientific discoveries. I enjoy philosophy and Art appreciation. more..