THE RED HOODY
PART 2
Chapter 7: The Big Bad Wolfe

   Gus ran up to Opa's gate and pushed the intercom.

   "Who is it!!?" demanded a querulous voice. "Go away!"

   "Opa! Opa! It's me, Gus! Open up, hurry! I need help! I - I might be in trouble!"

   BUUUUZZZZZZZZZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!

   There were only three people who received unrestricted admittance to Timothy's house. Brian, Justin, and Gus. That's it. Anyone else, even his shrink may or may not be subjected to the most rigorous interrogation the likes of which made the CIA or NSA or Interpol or those types of interrogation look like a friendly Q&A session at a garden tea party. And even after that you may or may not have the privilege of having Timothy buzz you in. This was especially irritating if it were raining. But that made no never mind to Tim. If he made up his mind that day not to open up, that was it.

   Timothy's fence and house had undergone a steady evolution of repair and reno over the years. Justin never forgot that it was Timothy who gave him the key to their prosperity in the first place and so had insisted he be denied nothing. The house now had three stories, gables and dormers, solar panels on the roof, a garden that was twice as big as when he started, a basement, and a bomb shelter. There were three guest rooms, a luxury kitchen, a bathroom on each floor and a small bath for every bedroom. There was a large workroom for his tailoring and in his huge bedroom, Timothy had a king size bed made of memory foam.

   Outside, Brian had erected a ten foot high iron picket fence all the way around Tim's property within a week of his moving in. This was good for a while but eventually Tim grew bored with this and started bringing sketches up to the castle. Justin loved them and loved it every time Tim would do this as Tim let him embellish and detail the drawings. These were given to a metalworker who would then make the drawings into metal and build them all the way around.

   After 11 years of this, the fence was over 20 feet high. Iron vines and thorns ran in a jagged irregular pattern around the poles, which were huge and were rounded spikes at the top. There were iron faces of cats and dogs and lions and bears and wolves, all with jagged teeth. There were fishhooks, tribal patterns and spirals from huge to tiny curlicues. The whole thing was jagged and a maze of spikes. It looked primeval, medieval, and just plain....evil. The simple latch gate that they started out with, no longer fit this thing. So it was reformed and added and made into a huge jail cell type door that was fitted with an intercom.

   It was this door that Gus now yanked on the sculpted handle and pushed on through. The door swung back and crashed and locked satisfyingly behind him. He ran up to the house and Timothy opened the door before he could dash up onto the wraparound porch, which was twice was deep as it had been at the start. It was equipped with curtains made out of screen that could be lowered and raised like blinds.

   Gus flew into his arms and Timothy relished the contact from one of the only people he truly loved and trusted. "Gus, kinder! What's wrong? You said you were in trouble!?"

   "Opa! Opa look at me! Look at the Hoody!"

   Tim looked and then mentioned mildly, "Well! I've never seen it like this before."

   "I think it's new!"

   "All right. But what's wrong?"

   "It's how it got to be this way. You see..."

   "Stop! I simply can't listen to a long story without some iced tea! And maybe an ice cream sandwich. You want?"

   "Yes, of course, please! Oh, but Opa, he might be coming..."

   "Nope! No spoilers! I simply won't hear of it! You're perfectly safe in here, Gus. I'll be a hornswoggled horny toad before anything gets past that fence. So just relax."

   Apparently, the Red Hoody agreed, for it at last released its kung fu grip and began to retract and fold up. Gus just stood there, arms out like he had learned to and let the Hoody mold around him and in a few seconds he was wearing dinner jacket hoody. The hood fell back.

   Gus made himself useful and pulled a few of the screen blinds down. Lucky came out and barked and made a nuisance of himself by getting underfoot. Gus aimed a pat at him in an absent-minded way.

   By the time he was finished with the blinds and setting the outdoor table, Opa Tim had come tottering out with a silver...ish tray of ice tea and delectable chocolate ice cream sandwiches with cookie and cream ice cream.

   They sat and Gus described his encounter with Jackson Wolfe and the Hoody subsequent behavior. When he finished, Opa Tim just sat there calmly stroking his beard thoughtfully. And when he did speak, it was stupefying and maddeningly calm.

   "Ahhh! So, he has shown himself at last!"

   Gus did a double take. "Huh!!? Opa, what are you talking about? Who's shown himself?"

   "Instead of answering, Tim asked, "Gus, do you remember your sixth birthday, when I gave you the Hoody?"

   "Yes, of course."

   "What do you remember of your time here before that? Before your sixth birthday."

   Gus thought back and then squinted in puzzlement. "That's...harder to remember. I remember things being a lot simpler. I remember... bees...and...lots of sunshine. Lots of bright days."

   "Gus..." Tim said gently, trying to prepare him, "Briton Castle has a lot of things but it has never had any beehives."

   Gus thought about it and looked up in wonder. "You're right...But I distinctly remember..."

   "I know, my boy, I know. The time has come for you to know the truth. You may not believe me...or remember...but you must be told all the same. The evil one has shown his hand. And now that he has, he won't stop until he kills you."

   The evil one? Killed...??? Gus' head spun as Tim rose and beckoned and then shuffled into the house. Gus followed, a cookie and cream ice cream sandwich in one hand and a bowl to catch the drippings in the other. Whatever mystery lay ahead, Gus was sure he'd need the comfort food. Besides, they were too damn good to leave behind.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

   A short while later the ice cream sandwich lay forgotten in the bowl melting a puddle-ey, cruel death.

   Gus was wide-eyes with disbelief. Bright Men? Leo? What was going on here?

   "Opa, what are you talking about? Have you lost it?"

   "At this point in my life that would probably be preferable!" snapped Tim, "However, every word is the truth."

   "But I don't remember any of this! And I certainly don't remember any Leo!"

   "Wherever he is, I'm sure that would make him very sad. But he predicted as such and that's why he gave me what he did."

   "One of these "bright men" gave you something? What was it?"

   "I'll tell you only if you take that tone out of your smart mouth, young man! Oh, Gus! Where do you think all that magic that powers that castle comes from? And I know, you've spent more than a few holidays in the White Tower! Gus...when you were little...when you could see them...you told us that they reminded you of bees flying around a nest!"

   Gus just stared.

   Timothy motioned their way into his workroom. The workroom was huge, with several looms filled with different projects, shelves and cupboards filled with yarns of all types, of all colors. Along a long low table was an area with knitting needles arranged according to size, crochet needles according to size, yarn needles, and sewing needles according to size. There were 10 sewing machines grouped around a central island. In one corner there was a computer setup with three screens, two towers and one wi-fi connection.

   However, Timothy cared for none of this and went straight to a corner cupboard, reached into the very back and pulled out two items that seemed forgotten but were gleaming new even though they looked to be very old.

   The first was small ball of yarn. It was hardly anything, about the size of a gumball. It was the color of pure gold, not just yellow, but gold, and it seemed to gleam in the light of day it was suddenly seeing.

   The other item was a swatch of cloth about 1 foot by 2 feet. It was white cotton, soft as anything with streaks and patches of gold running through it.

   "On the night that Leo came to me to warn me about the great evil and that he could no longer guard you, he left me with two balls of this, each as big as a basketball. Maybe even a little bigger. He produced it out of his own body somehow, like it was a part of him. I sewed it up along with normal cloth and made your Hoody. Over the years, I added and altered it until it is what you wear. And now, this is all that's left. This is all that is left of Leo now."

   He spread out the swatch. "I dyed it, of course. But this...this is what your Hoody really looks like."

   "My God! It's so beautiful!" breathed Gus.

   "It was a real shame to cover it up. But your parents would never have let me give a six year old a hoody looking like this. So I kept this back to remind me and because I knew this day would eventually come. But underneath the red, this is here. This is why your Hoody can re-form into whatever it likes by itself. This is why you love it so. And this is why the evil one hates you so much and has at last shown his hand. He must have been waiting these long years to get at you and has lost patience. I never did like that Jackson Wolfe! Hmmmppphhh!"

   "Ohh, Opa! You don't like anybody if you can help it!"

   "Ain't that the truth!"

   They both snickered like naughty schoolboys.

BJBJBJBJBJBJBJ

   Jackson smashed in the door above the handle, leaving a jagged hole. He then used this hole to rip the handle out of the door.

   He pushed on the door. The ruined door slowly revealed a dark and green passageway. It seemed vaguely...familiar. The door's hinges creaked mournfully.

   Jackson pushed his way forward through the ivy. After the bright lawn, that unending sunny lawn and maze, the forest was delightfully cool and dark. Jackson reveled in it for about one second before it happened.

   He had only taken two or three steps off the boundary of Briton Castle when an unimaginable pain, like fire and knives ripped through him. He dropped to his knees. He leaned over into a thick bush of shrubbery and vomited. But even as he did, he could feel his face changing. His grey hair and beard grew completely over and his face was growing into a snout. At the same time his torso swelled and his arms grew and he could tell he was taller too. His buttons popped and his arm seams ripped and his feet busted out of his shoes. He realized his feet were paws with huge talon-like claws. His arms and hands were furry and paw-like with claws as well.

   Grey hair was growing all over his chest His shirt was gone. The bottom of his pants was cut to ribbons. It was a miracle they stayed on at all but somehow they did.  He screamed in agony and it came out a roar.

   And then it was over. He stood and he towered 10 feet tall. His torso and arms were huge with rippling muscle and covered with course grey hair. He was dressed only in ripped pants now. His face was a wolf face without a doubt.

   He remembered this. He remembered. This was his first transformation. The transformation that had ended when the house had become a castle.

   He looked back and somehow he knew...he was back in the forest...past the boundary of whatever magic that had stripped him of his wickedness and trapped him in that god-awful maze. And he had never found his way back....till now. Now...he was back where he belonged. And the little man-cub was out there....out there in his dominion.

   With a bark of pure joy, Jackson Wolfe pushed off trail and ran through the brush and thickets as if they weren't even there. He ran a straight path, the shortest way to the grandfather's house.

BJBJBJBJBJ

   After their giggle fit, Gus and Tim sobered quickly.

   "So what do we do now?" asked Gus.

   "I think it's time to leave. One of us has to warn the others at the castle and get help. If only there was some sort of magic microphone that we could use! I don't suppose your aunts thought up anything interesting when they packed this thing?" Tim asked, as he rummaged around but all he found was the steaming lasagna.

   "I have my cell phone," said Gus.

   "Ooohh, that'll work!"

   "No it won't! Oh no! The battery's dead. I must have overdid it playing Angry Birds last night!"

   "Why...the hell...would you be playing with angry birds?" Tim asked, misunderstanding completely, "Can't you thrill-seeking whippersnappers feed corn and seeds to ducks and swans like a normal person!!?"

   "Not real angry birds, Opa! It's an app...a game on....oh, never mind! What I mean is my phone won't work!"

   "Then you'll have to run for help. I'll stay here and lock myself in. Don't worry, I'll be perfectly safe."

   "But aren't you coming with me!?"

   "No. I'll only slow you down. Don't worry, the Hoody will protect you. Also you can take Lucky. Don't go back the way you came. If Wolfe survived, he's surely found my door by now. Run along the path to your mothers' house and ask them for help. Hurry along now. I'll be all right."

   "OK. But I really don't want to leave you. I love you, Opa."

   "I love you too kinderling. More than all the rest in the wide world. But I'll be all right. You have to hurry."

   Gus agreed with this and so he hugged Opa Tim fiercely and then left the house and ran along the forest path that led to his mothers' pink house with Lucky loping along behind him.

   The Hoody snapped and unsnapped and molded around him in full cape mode. The hood flipped up. This was cautious and ready for anything mode.

BJBJBJBJBJBJ

   Wolfe ran as fast as he could until he reached the grandfather's house. He arrived just in time to see Gus wearing that damnable Hood run out of the gate and into the forest. The dog went with him.

   Without any real plan, Wolfe ran out behind Gus' back and grabbed the gate before it could close all the way. He knew iron was repellant to actual wolves and it affected him no less but as a wolf-man he could resist it a little. As it was the bars burned his hand as if they had been heated in a fire but he persevered and pushed his way through even as he heard the sizzle and smelled the charred fur and flesh on his palm. He stifled the whine of pain that would have given him away and then he was through and the gate was closing behind him with a crash.

   Wolfe stalked up to the door and knocked gently. He reached into his memory of his past life and tried to recall and mimic the brat's voice. It was such a short time ago but it seemed like ages past.

   "Opa! Opa! Let me in! I forgot something," said the wily Wolfe.

   "Gus? You sound strange. You OK? What did you forget?" Timothy opened the door.

   Wolfe smashed his way in with the force of a freight train and pinned Timothy to the way by the throat.

   "I forgot to eat you allll...up!" he yelled in his snarly voice.

BJBJBJBJBJBJ

   High above somewhere, the sun was shining, shining with all its might. It did its very best to make the fields and forests green and bright.

   Alas it only managed to make the tops of the trees bright. The light filtered down into the woods and could not shine brightly and in some areas, not at all. The leaves filtered the light, making everything damp, cool, and dark. The greenness of the many leaves turned the very light of the forest green. And so it was, that Gus found himself running, running, running along the path to the pink house down what was essentially a green tunnel.

   A quarter ways...half way....farther then that...then suddenly Gus caught sight of something from the corner of his eye off to his left. He stopped short and went on alert

   A huge man in rustic garb, that is, hiking boots, jeans, and flannel shirt and jean jacket was stepping out of the forest and onto the path. He was huge and wide and his muscles were so big all his clothes looked sprayed on but it was enough so that he could walk through any thickets without feeling like anything was there. He carried an axe.

   Lucky positioned himself between the huge man and Gus and bared his teeth and barked fiercely.

BJBJBJBJBJBJB

   Timothy struggled and choked but he couldn't get loose. He began to go a little blue.

   Wolfe opened his mouth and prepared to rip his prey's throat out.  He lowered his jaws until Tim could smell his fetid breath. He was sad that this...this... would be the last thing he remembered.

   At the last minute though, Wolfe stopped, released his grip a bit and straightened up.

   Tim gasped for breath but was still restrained.

   "No..."growled Wolfe, "You are old...tough...wrinkled. You would make a disgusting meal. I think I'll wait for the Patron's prince to come back. He'll be soft and tender....and his blood so see-weeeet...So red...just like that cloak he wears he thinks is!"

   "Not anymore! I showed him the truth!" wheezed Tim, "I'm glad to hear it's been a thorn in your side for so long!"

   Wolfe bared his fangs and roared as loud as he could into Timothy's face unleashing years of pent up rage. It was as scary as a horror movie.

   "In the hours to come, you may not be so glad!" he snarled.

   Then he laughed and dragged Timothy deeper into the house by the hold he had on his throat.

TBC