Young Writers Society

Chapter 15

“Ah, how are you, Curi-dear?” A ridiculously smug grin appeared on his face. “Cat got your tongue and several other useful organs?

“Um, I... I am fine.” Curi stammered. She was almost in awe, seeing him stand in front of her. The young man’s height made the magenta playroom seem that much smaller. His black button-up shirt and somewhat ironed black jeans made the hairy man seem almost dressed-up though his trademark hoodie was around his waist. Wolfeman had explicitly told her that he wouldn't help her put a stop to the Digis yet here he was in the belly of the beast, the Digis’ party.

He dropped the smug look and closed his eyes briefly. “Good.”

“Yo Wolfeman!” The brunette boys greeted, their smiles stretched wide with admiration.

He gave a quick nod of his head in acknowledgment.

Curi jumped off the couch. Why was he here? It couldn’t have been for her, right? She wasn’t in the mood to be let down again, but a spark of hope brimmed in her gut.

“Mister Wolfeman, what are you doing here?” She asked him.

He scratched his upper lip before stuffing his hand into his pants pocket. “Ah, I guess you could say that I am here on behalf of my old man who decided not to come.”

“Oh...” Curi sighed, her expression saddening. Maybe she deserved that disappointment for getting her hopes up. Wolfeman only cared about himself.

His face contorted into a weird expression which worried her.

“Are you okay?” She squeaked.

“I am mimicking that stooopid expression on your face,” Wolfeman said slowly, drawing out every syllable. “Of course, I am excellent as always,” he finished pompously.

Her face was just fine. “What are you talking about?” Curi said, immediately getting indignant. He was making fun of how young she looked again, wasn’t he?

“I can clearly see your woe-is-me look.” He placed a hand on her shoulder, messing up her collar in the process. “I have had a change of heart.”

The faint sound of chatter downstairs was the only thing that accompanied Curi’s moment of silence. It took a few seconds for what Wolfeman said to register, but when it did her entire face lit up, her brown eyes sparkling and a joyful mood set in.

“Really? I thought you said I was on my own?” He had turned a whole 180 on her within a matter of days. It was times like this when he was willing to help for nothing in return that made Curi admire him.

Wolfeman gave a cough before he patted her head. “Come on kid, you looked like you were about to cry back at the office. I'm not heartless. Besides, I specifically said ‘I can't and won't solve your problems’ I never said I wouldn't make problems though.”

“Make problems,” Curi repeated, trying to understand. She looked at him for an explanation, but she couldn’t find any sort of visual answer in his devious expression. She even glanced at the pair of brunette boys who looked just as confused as she.

“I am well-acquainted with messing things up. I could have a masters' degree in mischief,” Wolfeman praised himself.

Curi agreed with him wordlessly.

He clamped a hand on her shoulder. “Morris and Sierra Digi are two stubborn, old geezers, and this city is one little ignorant town. You're not going to get that stubborn man to recant anything, but I can get him busy enough to stop his slander.”

“—By making trouble,” Curi finished, having figured out his plan.

“Well, look at you, Curi-dear, you are a smart one.” She almost returned his smile, but something inside her made her feel a bit queasy. It wasn’t Wolfeman, of course, she thought he was handsome, but she felt a sense of foreboding.

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“Can we help?” The brunette boys said simultaneously as they were intently listening to the conversation.

“Snotty little kids who can't even tie their shoes should stay out of business that doesn't concern them.” Wolfeman said condescendingly. He often said children had loose lips, and that was something he didn’t like dealing with.

“At one point, you were like that too.” The curly-haired brunette boy countered. The other brunette boy with a high-top agreed with him.

Wolfeman shook his head. “Yes, but not anymore—I had to keep my nose clean and learn how to tie a bow.”

“What's that have to do with anything?” The curly-haired boy cried. Curi didn’t know either what Wolfeman’s point was, and she just credited it to Wolfeman’s unusual way of speaking.

Wolfeman rolled his eyes and swaggered to the playroom’s door. “Nothing. Now, I have got some adult business to conduct, dear youngsters.”

One of the boys pointed toward Curi. “But she doesn't look any older than us!” the high-topped one said. “Why can she help?”

Curi snapped, “Excuse you! I am still here.” The boy mumbled a sorry and slunk back to his spot on the floor.

“Ignoring those rug-rats, what I was saying—” Wolfeman began, opening the door.

The two boys frowned and the one standing said, “You should let us help! We heard everything you were saying anyway!”

“Oh, please do tell me what you two plan to do?” Wolfeman mocked.

“I will tell my dad then he will tell Mr. Digi!” Both boys said in perfect tattle-tale unison. Hmm… I wonder if the brunette boys are the sons of those businessmen who were crowding around Mr. Digi, Curi thought.

The brunette boys’ blackmailing was wasting time for whatever shenanigans Wolfeman planned to do. Curi pulled Wolfeman down to her head and whispered into his ear, “Hey, just let them help. Give them something to do.”

He rolled his eyes, not verbally telling her whether he agreed or not.

With his back to the boys and one hand gripping the doorknob tightly, he sighed. “Boys, you can keep watch. Tell me anything goes wrong.”

Curi noticed Wolfeman hadn’t given them any instructions or information, but the brunette boys seemed giddy to help the man.

“YEAH!” The boys fist-bumped, already splitting up to two watch-posts, one downstairs and the other station at the playroom’s window.

Curi could only shake her head, half-smiling.

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This was really short, and I hoped it didn't veer too much into "talking heads" territory. Anyway, the next chapter is the last one. I am happy that I finally finished an entire story.