headphones the rest of the way off. Bobby jumped so violently that he knocked the brakes loose on his wheelchair. The wheels rolled forward and he rolled backwards, right out of the chair to land on his back on the floor. Where Mutt took merciless advantage.
“God damn !” The roar went right out over Park Air, west to Ahtna and all the way down to Cordova when the skip was good, or it would have if the mike had still been hot. “Fucking wolves in the fucking house again! Shugak! Get this beast off me! Goddammit, Shugak, I know you’re there!”
Kate, hands in her pockets, strolled over to grin at him upside down, where he was feebly trying to stave off Mutt’s efforts to remove the skin from his face with her tongue. “You rang?”
“ Get this fucking wolf off me!”
“Only half,” Kate said.
“Shugak!”
Kate gave an elaborate sigh. “Mutt?” she said, but really it was only a suggestion, and all three of them knew it.
Mutt moved back maybe an inch and laughed down at Bobby, a lupine laugh, tongue lolling out of her mouth.
“Shugak! Goddammit, call her off!”
Kate sighed. “Well, okay. If you insist.”
“Shugak!”
Kate signaled Mutt, and Mutt gave Bobby one last, loving swipe, shook her coat into elegant layers, and trotted over to the wood box, where she knew Bobby stored the occasional mammoth clavicle to stave off marauding wolves.
“God damn ,” Bobby said, wiping the face in the crook of his arm and blinking up at Kate. “How many times have I told you about fucking wolves in the fucking house, Shugak?”
“Lots and lots of times, Clark,” she said, giving him a hand up.
Slyly, he took that hand and held on while using the other to right his chair and slip into it, managing in the same motion to yank her into his lap and give her a lavish kiss.
She gave as good as she got, and when he pulled back she smiled up at him, a siren’s seduction in her eyes, and said in a come-hither voice, “Where’s your wife?”
He boomed out a laugh and dumped her on her feet. “She left me. Her and the kid both. Abandoned. Bereft.” He waggled lascivious eyebrows. “All by myself.”
“Uh-huh,” she said.
“I’d put on some Eric Carmen to prove it if I could stand to listen to the fucker.” He rolled over to the kitchen to put on the kettle. “They’re in Anchorage. Eye doctor, dentist, shots, like that. Dinah wants to get a jump on the paperwork for school this year.”
“Right, first grade,” Kate said. “You, uh, volunteering at the school again?”
“Damn right I am.”
She sighed. “You’re going to give the kid a complex before she’s ten.”
“Then she has a complex. Nobody messes with the kid, Shugak.”
“Understood, Clark. But really, who would dare?”
“Exactly,” he said smugly. He opened the bag of coffee—Kaladi Brothers French Roast, not bad—and poured it into the filter without measuring. “What’re you doing in town?”
“You know. This and that. Checking the mail. Buying some groceries. Visiting my best bud.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder and grinned. “Where’s Jim?”
“Up yours,” she said, annoyed.
He laughed. The kettle whistled and he poured the water through the filter, doctored a mug with cream and sugar just the way she liked it, and they moved to the long couches in the living room, where Mutt was gnawing on a monster bone that looked fresh out of a Jack Horner dig with an expression of pure bliss.
“Did you ever meet Anne Flanagan?” she said after a moment to properly appreciate the magic elixir in her mug.
He cocked his head. “Minister? Down Cordova way?”
She nodded. “Ran into her outside the post office yesterday, we went for coffee. She’s the new flying pastor for the Park.”
“Yeah? A woman pastor?” He snorted. “I wonder how some of the old farts in the villages are gonna take to that.”
“Old Sam liked her.”
“Old Sam is no longer here to run interference for her,” Bobby said, and
“God damn !” The roar went right out over Park Air, west to Ahtna and all the way down to Cordova when the skip was good, or it would have if the mike had still been hot. “Fucking wolves in the fucking house again! Shugak! Get this beast off me! Goddammit, Shugak, I know you’re there!”
Kate, hands in her pockets, strolled over to grin at him upside down, where he was feebly trying to stave off Mutt’s efforts to remove the skin from his face with her tongue. “You rang?”
“ Get this fucking wolf off me!”
“Only half,” Kate said.
“Shugak!”
Kate gave an elaborate sigh. “Mutt?” she said, but really it was only a suggestion, and all three of them knew it.
Mutt moved back maybe an inch and laughed down at Bobby, a lupine laugh, tongue lolling out of her mouth.
“Shugak! Goddammit, call her off!”
Kate sighed. “Well, okay. If you insist.”
“Shugak!”
Kate signaled Mutt, and Mutt gave Bobby one last, loving swipe, shook her coat into elegant layers, and trotted over to the wood box, where she knew Bobby stored the occasional mammoth clavicle to stave off marauding wolves.
“God damn ,” Bobby said, wiping the face in the crook of his arm and blinking up at Kate. “How many times have I told you about fucking wolves in the fucking house, Shugak?”
“Lots and lots of times, Clark,” she said, giving him a hand up.
Slyly, he took that hand and held on while using the other to right his chair and slip into it, managing in the same motion to yank her into his lap and give her a lavish kiss.
She gave as good as she got, and when he pulled back she smiled up at him, a siren’s seduction in her eyes, and said in a come-hither voice, “Where’s your wife?”
He boomed out a laugh and dumped her on her feet. “She left me. Her and the kid both. Abandoned. Bereft.” He waggled lascivious eyebrows. “All by myself.”
“Uh-huh,” she said.
“I’d put on some Eric Carmen to prove it if I could stand to listen to the fucker.” He rolled over to the kitchen to put on the kettle. “They’re in Anchorage. Eye doctor, dentist, shots, like that. Dinah wants to get a jump on the paperwork for school this year.”
“Right, first grade,” Kate said. “You, uh, volunteering at the school again?”
“Damn right I am.”
She sighed. “You’re going to give the kid a complex before she’s ten.”
“Then she has a complex. Nobody messes with the kid, Shugak.”
“Understood, Clark. But really, who would dare?”
“Exactly,” he said smugly. He opened the bag of coffee—Kaladi Brothers French Roast, not bad—and poured it into the filter without measuring. “What’re you doing in town?”
“You know. This and that. Checking the mail. Buying some groceries. Visiting my best bud.”
He glanced at her over his shoulder and grinned. “Where’s Jim?”
“Up yours,” she said, annoyed.
He laughed. The kettle whistled and he poured the water through the filter, doctored a mug with cream and sugar just the way she liked it, and they moved to the long couches in the living room, where Mutt was gnawing on a monster bone that looked fresh out of a Jack Horner dig with an expression of pure bliss.
“Did you ever meet Anne Flanagan?” she said after a moment to properly appreciate the magic elixir in her mug.
He cocked his head. “Minister? Down Cordova way?”
She nodded. “Ran into her outside the post office yesterday, we went for coffee. She’s the new flying pastor for the Park.”
“Yeah? A woman pastor?” He snorted. “I wonder how some of the old farts in the villages are gonna take to that.”
“Old Sam liked her.”
“Old Sam is no longer here to run interference for her,” Bobby said, and
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