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Novelo Rectangle

“Wolves have killed three people in Wolftown, Wisconsin. Most recently, Officer Zachary Foster, 25, died of his injuries at the UW Health University Hospital. The names of the other two victims and details about their deaths have not been released. Foster leaves his five-month pregnant wife, Megan, behind. Wolftown Mayor Herbert Dwyer says, ‘Officer Zachary Foster’s death greatly saddens us in local government, and of course, those in the police force, and, I imagine, members of other emergency services who worked with him. The citizens of Wolftown will no doubt remember his sacrifice for years to come.’ Our listeners may know that Foster and another officer, Billy Schuster, were put on unpaid leave pending an investigation after they brought forth evidence of Wolftown Police Chief Dennis Laufenberg’s misconduct and criminal activity. Wolftown Police Department has revealed some details about the wolf attack that killed Officer Zachary Foster and injured Officer Billy Schuster, and Megan Foster also answered some questions. Megan says that Foster and Schuster felt like they, ‘couldn’t sit around all day waiting for a wolf to kill someone.’ When the wolf attacks began approximately eighteen hours ago, the officers volunteered for duty. At around 5:20 this morning, Foster and Schuster responded to a 911 call reporting a wolf entering a house through a dog door.”	“Why would a wolf do that?” John asked to the radio.	“—Foster sustained injuries on his neck, arms, and legs, and Schuster was bitten on the arm. Schuster shot at the wolf repeatedly, but it escaped. Schuster and an unidentified civilian administered first aid, and Schuster drove Foster to Wolftown Medical Clinic. Foster was then transferred to the UW Health University Hospital. The wolf has yet to be found. Nobody on the property was injured.”	The wolf’s escape relieved John, but he wished Foster survived. Local people and the authorities probably felt even more hostile towards the wolf and upset by it than before.	A police roadblock stopped John, the only person driving into Wolftown, Wisconsin, and a line of cars waited in the opposite lane.	The roadblock police officer said, “We’re checking each car for a dangerous suspect. Have you seen unusual behavior on your way here, either a person behaving unusually or a wolf behaving unusually, or a big dog maybe?”	“No,” John said.	“Have you seen a naked man running around on your way here?”	“No. In this weather?”	“Have you seen a wolf, wolf-dog, or large dog, whether loose or with a person?”	“No.”	“Do you know anybody in Wolftown?”	“Yes, but I’m not going to say who unless I need to.”	“What brings you to Wolftown today?”	“I’m a wildlife biologist from the Nature Protection Society Wisconsin Branch, and I’m here about the wolf. I want to offer assistance if possible, or at least observe the events,” Paula, John’s boss, intended to open the second branch in Michigan.	“We don’t allow outsiders to hunt the wolf.”	“In my opinion, humans killing animals is unethical.”	“Please, say you have something to defend yourself.”	“I have an air horn. I understand what carnivores do and I respect them.” He thought, And I’m not stupid enough to approach the wolf before tranquilizing it.	“You are aware of the killer wolf and highly dangerous suspect.”	And that some locals think the wolf is a werewolf, John thought.	“The other road out of Wolftown crosses a flooded bridge, and if the rain keeps up, this road will become unpassable. By the time you change your mind, it will be too late.”	“I’m prepared for the flood,” John said.	“The tourists have been leaving because of the flood. I’m going to radio that you intend to stay in town. We need to collect as much information about the wolf and highly dangerous individual as we can. We’ve been asking people to go to the police station and find out if they might have useful information.”	“I will keep it in mind.”	“Most of the businesses left their doors unlocked for people running away from a wolf. Go inside and shut the door when you see a wolf. Keep a really careful eye out for the wolf.”	“I will.”	Wolftown’s sign read:WolftownWelcome to the PackFounded 1831Population 1,524	Wolftown’s state of emergency applied to the floods—other current issues were the wolf, allegations of police corruption, and two murders, all of which occurred in the past week. John wondered if the wolf attacks were the town’s last straw. On the drive, he listened to local radio, hoping to learn more about the wolf, and ignoring the corruption and murders. Reporters knew little about the corruption, and police strictly withheld information about the murders. Wolftown’s settlers brought a werewolf legend from Germany, but the news never mentioned it.	The reporters repeated the same wolf information. Authorities identified one killer wolf and at least one other wolf roaming the town. Already, Mayor Herbert Dwyer condoned killing the wolf or wolves. Wisconsin Fish, Wildlife, and Parks Division aided Wolftown. The city also had an animal control department, but Happy Howlers tended to wolves. Dr. Jodi Richardson (a popular large animal veterinarian who treated the odd wild animal when called upon), and dozens of local civilians volunteered to hunt the wolf.	John drove to Wolftown because the people’s reactions seemed odd, and he found insufficient information remotely.	Before coming to Wolftown, John spoke with Wayne McDowell, who founded the local wolf sanctuary, Happy Howlers. Sometimes Happy Howlers and the Nature Protection Society worked together. He understood John’s concern but thought coming was a waste of time. “I bet nobody will let you look around or do anything,” he said.	The police identified the highly dangerous suspect as a person with a wolf, wolf-dog, or large dog. Both Wayne and John acknowledged some modern people successfully trained wolves like dogs. Due to the difficulty of acquiring a trainable pup, Wayne and John guessed the suspect worked with a wolf-dog or a massive, strong dog. In Wayne’s experience, a wolf, wolf-dog, or above-average domesticated dog’s bite force was at least one hundred times more forceful than the attacking canine’s. John trusted his judgment.	Police Chief Laufenberg’s misconduct and crimes seemed unrelated to the wolf, but the allegations’ effects on the police officers concerned John. Officers probably disagreed with each other, leading to teamwork problems. Meanwhile, they worked together for long hours under high stress, managing multiple crises, routine calls, and supervising wolf hunters, which combined could make them mishandle the wolf situation. Because Wayne said the wolf attacked his employees, John thought between the stress, emotions, and cooperating with the local authorities, Happy Howlers might harm the wolf. Wayne said he had distributed tranquilizer guns and people carried their normal weapons. He struggled to reassure people that one dart made a full-grown wolf unconscious—even after Wayne demonstrated on an ambassador wolf. Multiple tranquilizing darts would overdose the wolf. Through experience with various animals, he and John sympathized with people’s doubts about their safety in the few minutes before the wolf fell asleep. Finally, the werewolf rumor could provoke mass panic and violence towards wolves and people, whether or not somebody correctly identified the culprit.	Neither Wayne nor John believed in werewolves, but Wayne told John, “They wouldn’t look like wolves because wolf and human musculature and bone structure are so different, they need to change. It takes a long time for real animals to totally change their form, and an object doesn’t make them change their form.” According to the folklore, wearing a special belt made of wolfskin turned the wearer into a wolf. The folklore called the werewolf böxenwolf.	Wolftown beautifully maintained its brick roads, half-timber buildings, and other historic architecture. A few businesses had lights on, and two people exited a closed gift shop. Despite the rain and workday, cars filled the church parking lots; other parking lots remained empty.	People stacked sandbags, often looking around for a wolf, or under apparent guard. Pairs of people in reflective vests walked wolfjägers, and one pair carried a rifle. John pitied the soggy dogs because the wolfjägers had absolutely no choice about suffering the weather. The thick, cold rain hurt and it was a cool March day.	John owned an eco-hostile, half-useless pick-up truck. The van belt squealed about a puddle of water. He pulled over into a street parking spot, fed the meter, and opened the hood.	“Just so you know, there is no parking here,” a man in a vest said.	“I’m stopping long enough to adjust the van belt,” John said.	“Do you need a tow?”	“I’ve done this before, and once today.”	The man carried a break-action shotgun, cracked open and unloaded. Still, it scared John. He concentrated on the engine.	“We try to be a friendly town, but we don’t welcome outsiders today," the man said.	“The officials want to keep people safe," John said.	“You’ll need to go back the way you came and an hour out of your way.”	John shut the hood. “Thanks for your concern.”	The man spoke into his walkie-talkie while John drove away. Another unarmed pair followed him. He wondered if they had concealed carry permits or hid their guns illegally.	To learn Wolftown’s layout, John drove around Wolftown. He saw weird posts and holes lining the streets on his last visit. The town needed them for a 12-foot tall, rusting, corrugated metal wall, on which they hung detour and Do Not Enter signs. Water trickled under the crack and through drainage holes. On grassy land, a 3-foot corrugated metal apron prevented tunneling. In John’s experience, a farmer's wire fence with a wire apron blocked the average wolf’s entry. Wayne built wire and concrete fences because tourists came so close to wolves.	Before John left for Wolftown, every hotel, motel, and bed-and-breakfast refused to reserve a room, but he came prepared to sleep in his truck. He found a motel room in person, at the first place he asked. The manager warned him about the flood and wolf. She said that the motel cooperated with the police, which meant notifying the police he had checked in. Great, John thought. He checked in anyway. On the phone, the police also asked him to come to the police station (in city hall) for voluntary questioning.	Paula worried about John’s safe arrival and the town’s room availability, and she needed his phone number. She agreed some aspects of Wolftown seemed odd. If, at any point, John felt unsafe, she encouraged him to leave.	John dressed in his fishing waders, raincoat, and rainhat, packed his briefcase in a waterproof bag, and asked the motel manager for directions to City Hall, and walked. Though he planned to visit City Hall, seeking wolf information, he hoped to avoid questioning. Wayne was his only connection to Wolftown.	A patrolling pair followed John on foot, sometimes using their walkie-talkies until a police car sent them away. The officer caught up with John.	“Excuse me, sir, are you the guy here about the wolf?” he asked.	John stopped in front of the Beyond Bagels Bakery. “Me?”	“John Dalton?” the police officer asked, with a tense, stretched expression.	“Yeah,” John said.	“My name is Officer Schuster. With our ongoing situation, walking alone is very unsafe. I can give you a ride, but—”	Schuster’s radio interrupted him. Among untranslatable acronyms and numbers, John heard “wolf,” and street names. An older pair of patrollers hustled out of the bakery.	“Patrollers! Come here for a minute!” Schuster called. To John, he said, “Sir, if the wolf comes here, you need to be somewhere safer. Do you want to go into the bakery or my car?”	The patrollers waited.	“I’m not comfortable going into a police car,” John said.	“When I say, go into the bakery, and you need to comply immediately, or I will put you in the bakery.” He pointed. “Push the door.”	“Sure,” John said.	Schuster answered his radio again, and one of the patrollers listened to the walkie-talkie. By the end of the transmission, Schuster looked like a rubber band about to snap.	“Okay, John Dalton is here about the wolf. You need to keep an eye on him if I leave.”	The patrollers agreed, and John asked, “Why?”	All John understood from the radio was something about “knocked out” and “attack.” Schuster answered the radio again, and hesitated, looking at John. The emergency siren sounded.	“Haven’t you done enough?” the woman patroller asked.	Church bells rang.	“Everybody would understand if you went home,” the man patroller said, as Schuster half-shoved and half-dumped John through the door.	“Sit down and sit tight. Keep an eye on him,” Schuster said. He rushed to his car and sped away with lights and sirens.	The patrollers joined John, and the man locked the door. The thunderstorm, emergency siren, and church bells muffled the police sirens and gunshots. John and the patrollers, Frank and Debby, introduced themselves.	“What happened?” John asked.	“Something bad,” Frank said.	The bakery smelled like fresh bread and doughnuts. Somebody had turned on every light and spilled a still-steaming cup of coffee. John cleaned it up with napkins.	He overheard Frank's staticky walkie-talkie “He got away. We’re fencing in sector four.”	The corner TV blurted robotically, “A wolf attack—”	In another room, a man shrieked the same volume as the TV's blaring emergency address. Frank rushed in its direction.	“—has been reported in sector four. If you are in sector four, stay inside, and lock all windows and doors,” and listed which streets were in the sector.	“I need to go to city hall,” John said. “Is it in sector four?”	“You shouldn’t leave until told,” Debby said.	“Tommy dropped a kitchen knife on his foot,” Frank said.	“Oh, darn it!” Debby said.	“I have a first aid kit,” John said.	“He does, too. The alert scared him, and his hands were sweaty. I’m radioing for transportation to Dr. Groves’ office.”	“But you know Dr. Groves’ office is only good for little operations, like fishhooks and Bunny’s abscess.”	“Dr. Groves knows where to send him. He gave Foster a blood transfusion."	Schuster returned a few minutes later and looked like the rubber band snapped and ricocheted off the ceiling. “Okay, walking to the police station is extremely dangerous, but I can’t keep you here. In the police car, you wouldn’t be detained, but you would be in handcuffs.”	“I like walking," John said.	“No problem. I’ll follow you.”	“Does that mean if we see the wolf, you will shoot him?”	“If he is trying to get you, yeah.”	“Officer Schuster survived a wolf attack,” Debby said.	“Good! Condolences about Officer…Foster.”	“Thanks.”	“I’m not comfortable being in a police car when I haven’t broken the law. And I don’t want the wolf to get shot because of me.”	“Here’s a compromise. If you see the wolf, blow your air horn, and if the wolf runs away, I won’t shoot it.”	John nodded grudgingly. “Can you follow far away?”	“Okey-dokey,” Schuster said.	Schuster trailed about one block behind John. Patrollers gave him odd looks, but let him pass.	Catty-corner from John, a door swung shut, and something moved. A lamppost’s flowers and a mailbox obscured a massive, canine shape. It looked up and down the street, then bolted at thirty or forty miles an hour towards an alley, while John mentally compared dogs, wolves, and coyotes, and decided he saw a frightened wolf. The wolf’s ears were flattened, its head lowered, and its tail between its legs.	Why did the door open? John wondered.	The wolf poked its head around the alleyway and glared at John. Turning to face the wolf, John stared back. It stepped forward. John blew his airhorn, waved his arms, and shouted, “Run away!” He backed against a pull-to-open door, and the wolf laid its ears back and raised its tail horizontally.

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Wolftown

jmsparrow

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Julia Marie Sparrow

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