WOLF'S EYE MAGIC

This old skeleton key? Hard t’notice most times cuz it’s hangin’ round my neck.

Somethin’ special?

Not really. Well – suppose it’s special in some way. Least to me anyways.

Last March - you probably ‘member when I was goin’ through that bad patch, a banker down at the TD – yeah, that one over on the corner - well, when he was heading inside, he dropped that key into my spare change hat.

‘You’ll be surprised what fortune it’ll bring you, Red’ he said.

He always called me Red. Back then my hair was more red-brown with a few white speckles through it. More on the white side o’ things now.

Anyways, that banker guy was laughin’ when he said them words, so I don’t put much stock in it.

You wanna hold it? Sure, here. Take a closer look. Notice anythin’?

Yeah, me too. Right off the bat, just like you. The damn thing’s givin’ off some heat. Not quite a burn but it’s pretty warm. 

Nothin’ else?

The top’s odd shape? Yeah. What’s it look like to you?

A wolf’s head? Now that’s real interestin’. I’d been thinkin’ more like a Lab’s head. But now you says it, does seem more wolf than dog.

Ok, I’m gonna tell you somethin’. It’s a bit weird but hear me out.

After the bank guy gives it to me, just for somethin’ to do while I was squattin’ on the sidewalk, I holds it up. Looked through that dog’s eye - oh I mean wolf’s eye – at some o’ the people passin’ over there in front o’ the Quick Cash.

Dependin’ who I looked at, in the wolf’s eye I could see a few hours, sometimes a whole day o’ their future. I’m not messin’ with you. No, sir. Yeah it took me a bit o’ puzzlin’ to figure out what I was seein’ but damn, that there key’s got some real strange magic goin’ on.

Did I see good or bad, you say? Well, a bit o’ both really. 

Anyways, at first I figured it was cuz o’ all the antihistamine I was buzzin’ with at the time. Sometimes them pills makes me feel like that. So I wasn’t none too sure what was goin’ on. But I know’d it was for real when for fun I looked through that key top at a young woman passin’ by the front o’ the Quickie.

No, I’m not jerkin’ you. Through the wolf’s eye on that there skeleton key I could actually see stuff about her. Future stuff. By holdin’ that key, I’d turned myself into a god damn fortune teller or somethin’.

That there wolf’s eye, it showed her yellin’ at a mean-lookin’ dude. He pushed her real hard – twice right in the chest. Well, that lady, she was swearin’ and shoutin’ – oh, forgot to tell you I can hear people talkin’ through that there wolf’s eye too – anyways, she was shoutin’ real angry-like. Then she pulled a nasty lookin’ knife. Screamin’ like a crazy woman, she stabbed that dude right in the belly. Pushed that long blade in real hard, oh yeah, she surely did. Lots o’ blood. That dude, he opens his mouth – said ‘bitch…’ – then fell against a old brick wall. Hung like a damn flapping bird a few seconds afore slippin’ sideways to the floor. Left a smear trail all the way down. The patrol cops showed up. Took her away.

Well, that there wolf’s eye - it goes real fuzzy then everythin’ disappeared. Went back to normal-like with me seein’ that same woman still walkin’ toward the Hunter Street bridge like she ain’t got no care in the world.

Yeah, hard to believe, alright. Kinda like I was watchin’ a video game or somethin’ through that friggin’ wolf’s eye.

Couple days later, I pulled the local paper from the trash barrel out front of Harvey’s - yeah, the one down by the river. I ain’t messin’ with you, but right there on the front page that same woman was bein’ took into court by the cops. She was wearin’ handcuffs. Paper said she’d murdered a guy. The dude was her ex, some scumbag called Skipper. She told the cops he’d always beat her up real bad. Most days he’d do it just for fun, she said. 

Paper says she’s pleadin’ not guilty cuz he was beatin’ on her so bad. Says she was only defendin’ herself. I’ll bet you it won’t matter a rat’s ass to the judge that he was beatin’ on her all the time.

I swear that’s what I read. I tell you I still couldn’t believe I’d seen all this happen through the wolf’s eye afore it actually done happen to her.

Course, I didn’t want to lose the wolf’s eye, so I found a piece o’ green string in a bunch o’ soggy old boxes out behind the Thai Lunch place. Put that key on it right quick. Hung it round my neck outta sight. Don’t want nobody gettin’ funny ideas ‘bout havin’ it for themselves. Know what I’m sayin’?

But still, I kept thinkin’ if that there wolf’s eye had some sort o’ magic.

So after readin’ ‘bout the girl, I decides to try out the wolf’s eye on Ol’ Shakey. You know the guy I mean? Sometimes he hangs out in the beer store parking lot – the one just down from the marina. Ol’ Shakey’s always hustlin’ spare change from the customers comin’ outta the store.

That night at the Mission, after supper and devotions, I held the wolf’s eye and framed up Ol’ Shakey. He was ‘cross the room arguin’ with Brother Mathew ‘bout the after-life or some such crap. That Shakey, he’s always goin’ on ‘bout religion. He’d talk to anyone who’d listen ‘bout what he calls ‘the blessed life hereafter’.

Ah, no. Ol’ Shakey, he didn’t know I sic’d the wolf’s eye on him. But if he had, well for sure he’d o’ freaked out. Shakey woulda called that wolf’s eye the evil work of Black Satan. That Ol’ Shakey, he’s got a real thing about Black Satan, but that’s too long a story for me to tell you now.

Anyways, in the wolf’s eye, I seen Shakey slowly walkin’ along that real deep ditch out River Road aways, lookin’ for those cans and bottles he’d cash at the beer store back in town.

When the weather’s good, Ol’ Shakey he just loves goin’ ditch divin’. Had his bike with him, rollin’ ‘longside, carryin’ a couple o’ those Freshie Mart bags full o’ cans and bottles slung from the front bars and a couple more half full, they was over the back fender.

In the wolf’s eye, I seen Ol’ Shakey suddenly drop the bike, cans and bottles spillin’ outta the bags everywhere. He runs down into the ditch. He’s gone quite a while, then pops back up. Well, now he’s carrying a bright red gym bag. Got ‘Nitro’ painted in faint white on the side. Mud’s smeared all over it. Yeah, it's sure’d seen better days.

But Ol’ Shakey, he’s got a big effin’ smile on his ugly ol’ mug. 

First thing he does is look up and down River Road, then picks up the spilt cans and bottles, fills up the Freshie Mart bags again, then chucks ‘em all down into that ditch. He looks up and down again, slings the gym bag over the front bars and heads off faster’n I ever seen Ol’ Shakey pedal that god damn bike. 

He’s makin’ straight for town.

That’s when the wolf’s eye cuts out. But I knows my ol’ friend Shakey. He’s done found somethin’ that’s got himself all worked up.

So I decides to wait a bit, figuring Ol’ Shakey will for sure come by tellin’ me what the wolf’s eye already done told me – that Ol’ Shakey’s got his hands on somethin’ real big.

That night at the Mission, Ol’ Shakey he pulls me into the chapel and locks the door. Sits me down on one of those wood chairs – you knows, them ones that’s real hard on your ass. He tells me he ain’t gonna be stayin’ at the shelter no more.

‘I’m leavin’ town, Red’ he says. ‘Forever.’

‘What?’ I say, pretendin’ I don’t know what the hell he’s goin’ on ‘bout. ‘You ain’t got no money. You ain’t got no family. You been into the juice again, Ol’ Man?’ I ask him just so’s he don’t get suspicious o’ me.

‘Hell no, Red. I come into some money real sudden. Big money. Now I got me a stake, I can move out to Victoria where the weather’s better, where I can smell the effin’ sea air. Always wanted to breathe clean air ever since I was a kid growin’ up besides the steel mills. Leavin’ tomorrow. Early mornin’ bus to Toronto then catchin’ the next Greyhound headin’ west. Always wanted to visit the sea coast, Red. Now’s I can.’

Well, I tells you now, Ol’ Shakey’s got the biggest damn smile you ever did see.

I never tells him I knew ‘bout the money afore he found it. No sir, I didn’t say a word. That’s when I figured that there wolf’s eye was somethin’ real special. Somethin’ I had to keep secret no matter whatever it took.

Well, I wish Ol’ Shakey all the best for his travels, gives him a hug and watch him walk outta the front door o’ the Mission into the night.

Never heard from him again. Not even a postcard. But where’d Ol’ Shakey ever send me a postcard to? No, I figure he’s made it to Victoria, livin’ the life he always dreamed. Never learned nothin’ different from the wolf’s eye, so that’s what I’m believin’ still.

You wanna know what I did after with the wolf’s eye? Well, truth be told, I tried it out again on a few people passing by the Quick Cash. Sure as hell, for some I could see their future right there in eye, just like a god damn tv show.

Sometimes it was good stuff, sometimes not so good. That wolf’s eye, it don’t seem to care whether it’s showin’ good nor bad.

But I knows I had what that banker at the TD would call ‘a business opportunity’. Only I don’t need no business plan or stuff like that. With that wolf’s eye, I had everythin’ I needs to go into business for myself – I’d be a god damn entreprenner or whatever, tellin’ some people ‘bout the good news in their future. But I’d be doing it for cash. Sort o’ like a service fee, if you knows what I mean.

It didn’t go too good right at the start. I mean, back then I looked like just another homeless guy sittin’ on George Street or out front o’ The Red Lion on Friday and Saturday nights, beggin’ for some coin or paper. Most nights I slept at the Mission. But I cleaned up my clothes. Even got myself a real fine pair o’ used walkin’ shoes down at the Sally Ann. I kept them shoes polished up real good and tried to look like I was just a normal guy temporarily down on his luck.

Once I started looking a bit more respectable and when I’d frame up the wolf’s eye on someone whose future had something really good, I’d approach them t’offer my ‘good news’ story free of charge.

Free? Yeah, free all right. You see, I had to build up what that banker woulda called my client list. So I done that for ‘bout a month, maybe two.

Anyways, at the start, most wouldn’t listen to me. But a few that knows me from my street days, well they’d at least go through the motions t’listen and be polite. I’d ask everyone t’get back t’me, tell me how my story ‘bout their future good news went.

Oh yeah, most did cuz it was always good stuff they’d tell me. 

See, I never ‘proached anyone with bad news I seen in the wolf’s eye. Only the good stuff that’d get the customer comin’ back t’me for more good news. Some even ‘proached me regular on the street, sayin’ ‘Hey Red, what good news you got for me this week?’ And if I sic’d the wolf’s eye on them when they weren’t looking a couple days after and I seen some good news, I’d tell ‘em.

Didn’t take long afore people started givin’ me cash cuz they appreciated the good news heads-up. Often, but not always, my news involved some sort o’ money thing - like I seen with Ol’ Shakey and the gym bag. Wasn’t too hard after all that to start chargin’ everyone a fee for sharin’ the good news.

No, none refused to pay me for their news. I didn’t charge much but always just ‘nuff so’s I could get by ok. After all, I got expenses, right?

What’s odd is that nobody ever asked where I got their good news from. I guess they figured Red was just weird enough to probably have some magic goin’ on.

Well, as you can see, now I don’t look homeless no more. I clean up pretty good, eh?

These days I meet my customers most afternoons over in East City at the River Café. As my banker friend would probably say, doin’ it that way makes my sharin’ the good news seem a little more upmarket. And that makes it worth payin’ for.

I’m outta the Mission now. Got a two bedroom with a nice river view near the Café. Don’t need no car yet. Walk everywhere - winter or summer, makes no matter t’me. Keeps me healthy, my friend, all that walkin’ around every day.

Am I livin’ the high life yet? No, not the high life. But let’s just say that with the help of this here wolf’s eye key hanging round my neck, I’m doin’ ok. Word of mouth from happy customers, my friend - ain’t it a wonderful thing?

You gotta run? OK, it was good talkin’ to you.

Hey, all this I told you – just ‘tween you and me, right?

Back in the day I always seen you talking to Matthew over at the Mission. Last week, I dropped by and asked him ‘bout you. He said you’re a good guy just goin’ through a bad patch like me when I was quite regular usin’ his beds and food. Probably shouldn’t tell you, but I asked if you could be trusted. Know what he said? ‘I’d stake my life on it, Red’ and he kissed that damn big cross he always keeps round his neck.

What’s that? Does I see any good news in your future? Ha, I never thought to sic the wolf’s eye on you afore. Never tried it front o’ someone either, so don’t know if it’ll work t’all. But stand right still and I’ll frame you up.

Yeah, my friend, it’s givin’ me some stuff on you. OK, give me a minute here to get the full story.

You’d like t’see what the wolf’s eye sayin’ ‘bout you? Sure, come close t’me. Take a peak. Never showed nobody this afore so’s you’ll be the first t’see it all, ‘cept me o’course. No. You can’t hold the wolf’s eye yourself. I’ll just put my arm round your shoulder, so we can stand real close lookin’ at the wolf’s eye.

OK, good. Can you see it ok? Just like a movie, eh? Yep, that’s what the wolf’s eye’s showin’ me ‘bout you. What your thinkin’, what your plannin’ on doin’. Like grabbin’ that there wolf’s eye and stickin’ me with that blade you got in your jacket. Pretty amazin’ eh that there old wolf’s eye can show me what’s you got planned for me? Yeah, I thought so too, my friend.

You ever hear o’ someone called Judas? Ol’ Shakey, he’d done taught me good about that man Judas and what he done to his friend Jesus of Nazareth. ‘Red, you must never, ever trust a Judas’. Ol’ Shakey, he’d say it t’me probably hundreds o’ times when he felt I’d been too trustin’ o’ people whose I shouldn’t be.

YOU FUCKIN’ SON O’ BITCH! YOU GOD DAMN JUDAS! YOU AIN’T GETTING’ YOUR FUCKIN’ HANDS ON MY WOLF’S EYE!

How do that feel, my friend? There’s no point o’tryin’ t’call somebody to help. No ones seein’ you here with me, so’s there’s no point tryin’. You’re an evil Judas. So’s you gets what’s you deserve.

Ah, for damn sake, you got blood all over my workin’ shirt and on the walkin’ shoes. Even some specks on the wolf’s eye from all that shit spurtin’ outta your neck. I’ll wait just a minute whiles you settle down some.

Well, my friend, the wolf’s eye and me, we gotta go get cleaned up and disappear for awhiles. Maybe go find Ol’ Shakey out on the coast.

Oh, somethin’ else, whiles I think o’ it. That viewin’ with the wolf’s eye? Consider it a freebie. But just this once, ok?

After all, I ain’t no good news charity no more. Got a damn business to run. Know what I’m sayin’?   

First Published: In the August 2017 online issue of Mystery Weekly.

The Backstory: This story started out as a thirty minute prompt writing exercise in my writing group. Several lines from a pop song were chosen as the starting point. I chose these words – the skeleton key – to poke my creative imagination. The story that I wrote that evening morphed over the next couple of months into this fantastical tale about a homeless guy who is given a key that possesses some magical powers. It can be a blessing or a curse. Or a bit of both.

Legal Rights. ‘Wolf’s Eye Magic’ is the intellectual property of the author, Don Herald. No part of this story may be reproduced in any format without the written permission of the author.