Buster's Story Ch. 09 - Finale

*

1972

Brian had dropped Lewis off at his mother's house. It was late August, and Lewis was heading to University. He was planning on visiting Marie and Andre before heading back to the Valley. His first stop though was the Spinning Tiger Noodle House.

"Ah, Mistah Hǎng," said Hu Chang. "You table is ready."

"Always good to see you Hu," said Brian as he sat down at the same table he had nearly twenty years before when he and Natalie had gotten lost. Natalie was on his mind a lot lately.

"And you. Same as always?" Hu asked.

"Aye"

Hu bowed, and headed to the kitchen where he shouted an order to his cook. He poured hot water into a teapot and brought it and two delicate cups back to the table and sat with Brian. After a minute or two, he poured tea.

"You visit that Lewis?" asked Hu.

"Aye. Last time I think. He go to University this year. His mother crazy woman. Drive us all crazy. Don' want no crazy shifter in family, but calls all the time we have Lewis. Don' let him rest, learn to be wolf. Damn stupid."

"I undehstand. My daughtah, she marry man from Shanghai. He say it no mattah she Hu clan. Just like Lewis mom no respect Hǎng clan. My daughtah, she shift, he run. Scream. Bring back bride, bride price. Same thing," said Hu, shaking his head.

"I worry 'bout Lewis. He so alone. Not good for wolf to live that way," said Brian.

"Lewis always welcome this house. Hǎng clan and Hu clan no fights here," said Hu.

Brian nodded. "I tell him that."

A few minutes later, the cook brought his dinner. Orange beef, a double order. Brian smiled and began to eat the fragrant beef with fresh steamed rice. The cook brought Hu his battered and fried fish. Both men ate in agreeable silence.

"You greet Andhe and family for me," Hu said as Brian paid for his dinner and prepared to leave.

"I will. That Libellue go University in England this year," said Brian.

"Ah, Smart gihl. She do just fine," nodded Hu.

"Aye." Brian bowed and left the noodle house. He settled into the car and pulled into traffic. In just over an hour, he was in Everette. As he pulled up in front of Andre's house, he realized that it was dark. Knocking on the door, he realized that no one was home, nor had been for a few days. On the door was a note addressed to him.

"Dear Papa,

We were surprised that you didn't come by to see Libellue off to England. We waited as long as we could, and then realized that Lewis had not called either. We figured that you must still be out camping. We will be home in a month.

Love,

Andre, Marie and Libellue

"Damn! I forgot the date." Brian put the letter in his pocket and got back in his car. He headed for Spokane. It was late by the time he reached the hotel. They'd held the room for him. Same hotel, same room since 1954. He fell asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

The next morning, Brian got up, and went to eat at the little cafe he always ate at only to find it closed. He had to go to a different place, and it was just enough of an upset to his routine that he felt at odds for the first time in ages. He ate his breakfast and then headed towards the Canadian border. As he drove through Idaho and the forests, he kept thinking he saw something at the edge of the road. He remembered the wolves that he and Natalie had seen the first time they'd traveled the highway. At one point, he swore that Natalie was sitting next to him. When he went to look, he almost ran the car off the road.

"Too damn old for this!" he said to himself. He pulled over at a rest stop and contemplated shifting and running in the woods. It was what he normally did when he was upset or unsettled. However, there was too much traffic. He stretched and got back in the car. Brian was frustrated when an hour later he realized he'd missed the turn to go see Quintus and family. Instead of turning around, he simply headed home.

At the Canadian border, he had to get out of the car and let the border guards search his trunk. He wasn't happy. All new rules, and he didn't like the change. There had been too many changes this trip.

"Don't worry sir. Only a minute. New rules from Washington D.C. Have to check all cars," said the guard with a smile. Brian nodded and looked across the border. Swaths of trees had been cleared. Change was everywhere.

"All done sir. Thank you for your co-operation," the man said and raised the gate.

Brian got in his car, waved and headed home.

*

Brian arrived home to find that most of the family had gone to Calgary for the weekend. He sat in the cabin and ate a sandwich and drank tea in the kitchen. When he finished, he put his dishes in the sink and went to bed. Even at home, things weren't the same. Caroline must have washed the sheets, for the bed didn't smell of him. He tossed and turned as he tried to go to sleep. He was so tired, he couldn't even shift. Grabbing Natalie's pillow, he hugged it to his chest and tried to sleep.

He woke in the middle of the night. Sitting up, he thought he heard something in the kitchen. Walking quietly, he peered into the kitchen. Nothing. He sniffed the air. "Mice. Damn mice." Brian shook his head and headed back to bed. He sat on the edge of his bed and realized for the first time in years that he was alone. Truly alone. He rolled over and picked up Natalie's pillow once more. It no longer smelled of her. It had been too long and all the scent had dissipated.

Brian stared at the wall. The wall paper that he and Natalie had put up was faded and torn in some spots. He turned over and looked out the window. As he lay there holding Natalie's pillow, his mind drifted back to that morning so many years ago when he'd held Natalie as she watched her last sunrise. The tears began to gather at the corner of his eyes. The sobs racked his body as he cried for the first time since Natalie had died. All those years, the wolf had grieved, but the man hadn't. His tears soaked the pillow, and the dampness released the last traces of Natalie's scent. Tears still ran from his eyes as the dawn broke and poured sunlight through the window.

*

Caroline came over to the cabin to make sure everything was ready for her Grand-pere's return. She walked in to find the cabin a mess. She ran back out and headed for her Maman's house. "Maman! Maman!"

"Aye?" said Jenny as she tried to open the clinic door. They'd gotten new supplies in Calgary and she wanted to put them away as quickly as possible.

"Grand-pere's cabin. It is a mess!" Caroline said trying to catch her breath.

"Let's go look, see what's gone," said Jenny. She and her daughter headed for the cabin. There was no sign of her Papa's car. When they got to the cabin, she realized that things were scattered. "Look through those rooms. I'll go check this way," she said heading for her Papa's room. When she entered the room, two things were evident. All of her Papa's stuff was gone as well as Natalie's pillow. She checked the closet to make sure and then she headed to the storage room. The boxes that held his uniforms and some of the older picture albums were gone.

"Caroline! Is there any kind of note? A letter?" she called as she walked back to the kitchen.

"Non! Why?" Caroline asked.

"Your Grand-pere, he did this. Crazy ol' man. He do this and leave. No tell anyone. What the hell?" Jenny sat on a kitchen chair and cried.

Caroline, not knowing what else to do, continued to pick up the cabin. After a bit, her Maman stood up, blew her nose and started to help her. When they were done, they closed the door and walked home.

*

"No Jenny, no more money has been drawn from the account. Yes, we'll keep it open. Yes, we'll let you know if it is accessed again," said the bank teller. She shook her head as Jenny left.

"Was it Grand-pere? Caroline asked.

"Had to be. Always same amount. Always next check number. What happen he run out of checks? You think he come home then?" Jenny asked.

"Mebbe. It been ten or twelve years?" Caroline said.

"Aye. Your Grand-pere is somewhere that Alaska this time. Hope he don' get shot for bein' wolf," said Jenny. The whole family had tried to find her Papa. No one had seen him. The only proof that he was still alive were the occasional checks cashed against his account. The family kept the account open in hope of tracing Brian.

*

The wolf ran. The machine in the air chased after him. He ran for the trees as a popping noise came closer and the snow around him exploded. A searing pain burned up his leg. Wolf kept moving through the trees. He found fallen trees and dug into the middle of the dense pile. There he lay as quiet as he could. He could here the air machine go over the trees. He whined as he licked his leg. The bleeding slowed and then he slept.

"Damn Buster! What the hell happened to you?" asked Jerry as he looked at the wound in the man's leg.

"Some idiot, he shoot and hit me," said Buster. "Spend two days up that trail feelin' like hell."

"I bet. Lucky for you, it just hit muscle. Let me get that cleaned out and bandaged for you."

"Good. Need get my cabin 'for the snow comes," said Buster as he looked out the window. The storm was rolling in and he knew that by sundown that the snow would fill the world.

"This is gonna hurt," said Jerry as he swabbed the wound. Luckily, the bullet had passed straight through. He heard Buster hiss with pain and did his best to be quick. Then he packed the wound and wrapped a bandage around the calf. "Let me get you some anti-biotics."

"Fine. Just not those horse pills you give me last time," said Buster.

"Nah. These are little. Take 'em for a week. And don't forget to eat with 'em," said Jerry.

"Okay." Buster took the pills and the bag of groceries and headed for his cabin.

Jerry watched Buster Walters walk to his truck. "Tough old bastard."

*

Buster took one of the pills, ate his stew and then sat down to watch the fire. He knew he'd have to move on soon. Life was getting too complicated. The sheriff had almost towed away his truck while he was stuck in the forest waiting for his leg to heal enough to walk. He'd have to look at a map in the morning and make a decision. Alaska was getting too crazy. Hunting parties weren't like they use to be. Instead of going for the big game, the hunters shot at anything that moved. Including him.

It had been nearly thirty-five years since he'd left the valley. That dawn had been the worst of his life. He realized he couldn't face his family or even the cabin he'd lived in all of his life. So, in a moment of panic, he'd run. He'd been running ever since and was about to do so again. Even after all this time, the grief he held in his heart for the loss of Natalie still hurt. He waited until the fire was coals and then crawled into bed. He wrapped his arms around his pillow and fell asleep.

"You sure you want to do this?" Jerry asked a week later. "You've been running hunting and fishing parties for a long time."

"Aye. Going to that Montana, see if I find my son," said Buster.

"You got any address? Phone number?" Jerry asked. He liked old Buster, but the guy had to be close to ninety and he was worried.

"I got address. Plus, I been there before. I don' get lost," said Buster.

"Well, okay. Here's the money for the cabin," said Jerry. He had tried to give Buster a check, but the old man refused, and so he handed $10,500 over in cash. He had it in an envelope and made sure Buster tucked it into a lock box and gave him the key. "You change your mind, come on back. I'll miss ya."

"Mebbe I come back that Spring," said Buster. "Mebbe them hunters, skiers go away then. Much quieter."

"Yeah. All them Yuppies and their damn sno-mobiles," said Jerry.

"You gon' help me put all this stuff the truck?" asked Buster.

"Yeah. Otherwise I'll get all teary eyed and snot nosed," laughed Jerry. He helped Buster put the last of his stuff in the back of the truck and covered it with a tarp. They lashed it down and then shook hands. Jerry watched Buster head on down the road knowing he'd never see the old man again.

*

Buster drove for a week. Every time he thought he found a small community he could live in, there would be something wrong. Too noisy. Too cold. Too busy. He just kept driving. When he got to Vancouver, he wondered if the Spinning Tiger Noodle House was still there. He tried to find it, but the roads had changed too much. He gave up and headed for a bank where he cashed a check. The teller was nice enough to let him know that there would only be $10 left in the account. He exchanged it for American dollars. Buster thanked her and got back in his truck. He headed to Washington state.

He drove through Everette, but the quaint Victorian was occupied by a family with three little kids. His nose told them that they weren't family before he even stopped the truck, so he kept on driving. When he reached the mountains, he turned south.

Late one afternoon, he stopped in a small resort town for lunch. "The Dog Bar?" he thought as he looked at the name. He laughed and ordered some food. As he ate, a woman in jeans and a flannel shirt caught his eye. She reminded him of his daughter Jenny. After he finished his burger, he followed the woman's scent trail. It led him to the Spoon River Bed & Breakfast. It was one of those big log cabin styled buildings. He made note of it and went back to his truck. Looking around town as he drove towards the highway, he made a decision. He was tired. More so than he'd ever been. If the woman would let him rent a room, he'd stay in this little town. It was fairly quiet and best of all, there were woods right next to the Bed & Breakfast.

Buster parked his truck in front of the Bed & Breakfast, and headed inside. The place was very clean. The smells from the kitchen were making his mouth water even though he'd just eaten. He walked up to the front desk and rang the bell.

The small woman who'd passed the Dog Bar walked out of the back and up to the counter. "Howdy! I'm Sam. Short for Samantha, but no one's called me that in ages," she said.

"Hello, I'm looking for a place to stay."

"Well, I have rooms. Upstairs or ground floor?" Sam asked.

"Ground floor," said Buster. He squinted at the register and filled in things as best he could. "How much that cost?"

"How many days you planning to stay? I got different rates for different lengths of stays," said Sam.

"Mebbe a week."

"Alright. I'll give you the residence rate. That'll be $300 for seven days. Includes breakfast and for an extra $5, I'll throw in dinner as long as you aren't too picky. If'n you are, you can eat at the Dog Bar." She wondered if he'd flinch at the cost. The man looked older than dirt, and was in need of a shave.

"Well, that be good," Buster said. He pulled his wallet out and paid with 4 $100 bills. "You keep change, I pret damn good eater."

""Alright," said Sam trying to figure where an old man like that would put an ounce of food. "Follow me and I'll show you your room."

Buster followed Sam down the hall to a room on the left. Just down the hall was a door. "Where that go?"

"Outside. Some of my customers like to go for walks. I don't lock the doors until midnight," she said as she opened the door to the room.

"Okay. I like the woods," said Buster. He looked around. It was a nice room and he noticed that the doors had lever handles. He smiled.

Sam left him to bring his stuff in while she went back to cooking. Come dinner time, she knocked on his door. There was no answer, so she headed back to the kitchen.

The wolf slipped out of the wooden den. His nose told him other shifters had been here. He ran up into the hills and checked out the land. There were plenty of deer and rabbits in the area. Other wolves too. When the moon came up, he sat and howled to let the others know he was here. A couple answered back, but none were pack. He headed back to the wooden den. Wolf hit the lever latch and entered the den. A moment later, he was back in his den. Curling up on the bed, he turned around three times and fell asleep.

*

Sam went to clean rooms and started with the ground floor. The family with the baby had left that morning, much to her relief. When she finished that room, she headed for Buster's. She knocked and when she got no answer, she unlocked the door. The room was empty and very tidy, which bothered her for some reason. After a week, she'd expected the old man to have made some sort of presence. Then she noticed the note on the desk.

Sam,

I am to damn old. I go the woods, and will not be back. You take care my stuff, give it to charity, or find someone who need the stuff, When they find me, there is money, the box, for my burial. The key, it is with my truck key. You sell my truck. Keep money. Keep money what left, I don' need it.

Don' be upset. You good woman. Ver' good cook. Jus sorry I can' eat more.

Buster Walters

Sam sat on the bed stunned. She'd never had a suicide before. Looking around the room, she just closed it up and hoped that he'd change his mind. She'd wait until Monday though before she reported him. Last thing she wanted was to upset him. He was a sweet old man, and had been polite to her. Plus, the sheriff wouldn't be back until Monday. She closed the door and went on with her cleaning.

Wolf went out into the mountains. He wasn't ready to go, but the two-legs was. Still mourning for their mate. He walked out to the deadfall he'd found and curled up to sleep. The night was long and cold.

*

Sunday evening, Sam thought she heard a noise at the back door. There on the other side was a huge old mangy husky. The muzzle was shot with gray and he was wheezing. Sam went into the laundry room and grabbed an old wool blanket and a bowl of water. She didn't normally bother with stray dogs, but there was something about this one that just pulled her heart strings. She went outside and the husky was off to one side, laying on the concrete. Sam put down the water and the blanket. Then she went back inside. Ten minutes later, she thought she heard a chair being dragged on the patio. She went out to investigate and found Buster sitting in a chair with the wool blanket wrapped around him.

"Buster! You okay?" she asked.

"Mebbe. I try, go die. It don' work. Old bastard no let me die." he said.

Sam looked carefully at Buster. Besides more scar tissue than she'd ever seen on a live person, she realized that his ears were a little pointed and his beard was fuller than she'd seen it. Then it struck her. "Buster, are you... a shifter?"

Buster looked at her, didn't smell fear and nodded.

"Let's get you inside and warmed up. I just put dinner away, but I have stuff I can warm up," she said helping the old man inside. She left him at his room and then went back to the kitchen. She warmed up a bowl of stew and grabbed a cup of coffee and two peanut butter cookies. When she got back to Buster's room, she balanced the tray and knocked.

Buster, dressed in a bathrobe and pajamas opened the door. "You don' have to do this," he said.

"No, I do." She put the tray down on the table in the room and gestured for him to sit and eat. Buster sat down and slowly ate the food.

"Buster, you need to know you aren't the first shifter I've had here. I know you noticed the door handles and that chocolate isn't the only dessert on the menu."

"Aye. I saw," he said.

"I've been renting rooms to them for nigh on thirty years. First one scared the hell out of me. Next few, well, they helped me make this place shifter friendly. That damn bar across the street draws them like flies."

"Aye," he said eating one of the cookies.

"So, the wolf part of you wasn't ready to die? Is that right?" she asked.

"Aye. I too damn old, but that wolf, he don' want to die. Don' know what to do. Don' have no family I can find. Have trouble shifting. Get stuck, like my ears. Mebbe it be okay, I live here? I got plenty money. Easy pay you to stay here. Mebbe some evening this damn wolf let me die?" he said.