Part 11 (1/2)

As Abalone trails off, Professor Isabella nods.

”Perhaps there is safety in numbers. We'll need to dye Sarah's hair and she'll need to wear contacts to recolor her eyes. We can't take risks with wigs now.”

I strike a pose. ”I dream of Jeanie with the light brown hair.”

”I was thinking of red-a less-flamboyant shade than those that Abalone favors-it would go well with your coloring. Perhaps we can manage dark brown eyes.”

I nod, well pleased with the image. I had been disappointed that they hadn't disguised me more thoroughly earlier-the romantic image of it enthralled me, but then I had heard Professor Isabella saying, ”It broke my heart to have to hide her this way-at least at home she can be herself.”

But two days later finds me with auburn hair and dark brown eyes and red corneas. The cosmetic contacts that Abalone has brought me burn somewhat. She promises me that she will bring me other sets.

And then we go on living. Professor Isabella takes me to museums and as February moves into March, the Brighton Rock ads are withdrawn from the market. The candy stays on, however. Apparently, the ad campaign had been useful for something.

One afternoon, I am changing myself into the brown-eyed stranger in the mirror when there is a banging in the direction of the living room window. One contact in, one contact out, I rush into the living room, b.u.mping into Professor Isabella.

As we are jostling to get through the door, Abalone, still scrubbing sleep from her eyes, steps into the room.

”d.a.m.n!”

She runs forward and shoves the window open. Two small figures fall into the room. I recognize Chocolate's dreadlocks and hear Conejito Moreno cursing indignantly from the bottom of the pile.

”Peep! Chocolate!”

Forgetting that we are in hiding, I joyfully raise the boys to their feet, removing Conejito Moreno's ears from beneath Peep's foot and handing him to his friend.

Close to tears, the little Tail Wolf clings to me.

”Abalone! Sarah! We be of one blood, ye and I, and Madre de Dios Madre de Dios, they have the Head Wolf!”

Her eyes widening and suspicion bordering her mouth, Abalone checks outside before shutting the window. Flicking the lock into place, she turns.

”Slow, Peep. Don't flip. How'd you find us?”

”We look for two days, Abalone,” Chocolate says. ”It not easy to find you, but we got lotta ears and eyes, but this no matters. What we here for is not friendly visit. They got Head Wolf.”

”They?” Professor Isabella asks, simultaneously with Abalone.

”Yeah,” Peep is shaking too hard to continue, so Chocolate fills in.

”They, the Home from where Sarah come. Two days ago. Come and get him with the police and all when he go to do some fix-up on the tromp the eye painting over the east Jungle entrance. Take him so fast that not even the Four can help. We come here 'cause Sarah know that Home, maybe she know why they want Head Wolf.”

”s.h.i.+t!” Abalone has hooked up her tappety-tap and is fingering icons and pulling files. ”Let me tap into the Home.”

Professor Isabella leads the frightened boys to the sofa and I go for coffee with lots of sugar and cream. As I pour and mix, I listen.

”What is the Pack doing about this?” Professor Isabella asks.

”Not much good,” Peep says. ”Most of the lupos lupos were sleeping when Head Wolf got taken-y'know the Law.” were sleeping when Head Wolf got taken-y'know the Law.”

”Why was Head Wolf out in the daytime?” Professor Isabella asks. ”He's usually fairly strict about keeping his own rules.”

”Some gang come and slash and spray,” Chocolate says. ”The canvas need quick fix now and then Head Wolf was checking how much work he need to do.”

”Then the police come,” Peep says. ”We saw it all, 'cause we had stayed out for breakfast at Jerome's place.”

”Too d.a.m.n little,” Chocolate mutters angrily. ”We too d.a.m.n little and too d.a.m.n scared and by the time we get some of the Four it too late. But we run after fast and check that what we hear is true. They take Head Wolf to the nuthouse.”

My pulse is beating too fast. This is too much to be coincidence. My hands start trembling so hard that I slosh the hot, sweet coffee onto the rug. No one but the rug notices.

”Got it!” Abalone growls through bared teeth. ”The boys are cool. Head Wolf is in the Home. By the Opened Door that freed me! They have a record on him, an old one.”

”Really old or fabricated, Abalone?” Professor Isabella asks.

Abalone taps and new characters and colors overlay the ones already on the screen. She studies for a moment.

”Really old, I think. Some of these programming commands are outdated. Only a truly paranoid forger”-she grins briefly-”would bother to write a new file in an obscure older mode-especially if all they needed was a reason to grab him.”

”Do you know where they got him?” Peep asks.

”Pretty good idea,” Abalone says, ”and I can narrow it down.”

”Good! Then we go, we get the man out of there,” Chocolate says, already on his feet.

”Not yet,” Professor Isabella countermands, pressing him back to his seat. ”We need to think on this.”

Abalone raises cold eyes, her hand rests on her s.h.i.+rt, touching the hidden tattoo. The Tail Wolves look guardedly at the older woman. Even I am aware of feeling a sudden flash of hostility.

”We aren't leaving him there,” Abalone states.

”No, I didn't expect you would,” Professor Isabella looks stern. ”And neither do 'They'-Brighton Rock failed. Now they're asking us to bring Sarah to them. Head Wolf is just bait, an engraved invitation.”

Abalone nods impatiently. ”I guessed, but we don't need to bring Sarah. Me, the Four, the boys-we can bust him out. Sarah'll be safe.”

I squeak indignantly. Professor Isabella smiles coldly.

”Why have they taken him to the Home? Because only Sarah knows it well-even my information, if they even know of me, is dated. My guess is that the only way we will get in is if Sarah is with us.”

”Us?”

”I may be of one blood with no Wolf,” Professor Isabella says with another cold smile, ”but even Kaa fought with the Seonee Wolves when his friend was in danger. I'll help as I can.”

Professor Isabella insists that the Tail Wolves sleep. Agreeing, Abalone arranges for a message to be sent to the Jungle. Later, she will slip out to meet with the Four. Meantime, she calls up files on the Home, on Head Wolf.

”My oh My oh My oh My,” Abalone murmurs. ”Shoulda known. Shoulda known this is how they'd see him.”

Her hand covers the picture between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, a picture I suddenly realize was drawn by needle and pain and dye by Head Wolf himself with the same art through which he makes stone into wood and metal into paper. A twinge of envy touches me as I sense an intimacy beyond mere s.e.x between this wild forger and her chosen lawgiver.