Johnny Wraith Stories

The Familiar

Months passed. I don't know how many, exactly. Arizona didn't have much of a change in seasons, but it was getting hotter. I just knew it wasn't yet the middle of summer, and feared that when May finally arrived I wouldn't be able to stay indoors any longer. I'd suffocate when temperatures hit 100° F.  The heat would be too much to bear without air conditioning, the only of the many lost amenities I missed, well... that plus grocery stores. Not having anywhere to go for food worried me too, especially given my supplies were already cut in half. Only 1216 cans of Hormel Chili with Meat Sauce and 187 5 liter cardboard kegs of Franzia Merlot remained. The cell phones I didn't miss, that god-damned electronic ringing followed by a "BEEP!" every minute thereafter, until you shut it off or retrieved the messages. Or work. I sure as hell didn't miss that either. Or doorbells, or dealing with rush hour traffic, holidays spent with family just because you had to, and spending, spending, spending on Christmas, birthdays, tanks of gas, utility bills, trash bills, water bills, taxes, insurance, vehicle registration, restaurant tabs, tips for lap dances, mortgage payments, and the rest of that long list of shit... I didn't miss any of it. I didn't miss having to work two weeks straight just to drop ¾ of my paycheck straight into some other bastard's pocket. I found out real quick you could live without all that, and things would be just fine. Well, except for the air conditioning and grocery stores. I didn't need a toilet either. I just took my pisses and shits in the street. As a rule, to maintain sanitation, I took at least 300 steps before squatting down for a dump. I didn't always wear my pants when I left the house looking for a place to shit or piss, but I always wore my tennis shoes and took my rifle along, just in case. After all, I hadn't seen another living person in quite a while, weeks, maybe months? I couldn't remember. I speculated that I was the only one left, in the neighborhood and possibly the territory. The world? Had everyone else died? Not everyone, I believed. One night I thought I heard a helicopter pass overhead. It could have been my imagination? I'd heard it said people become so lonely after a period of isolation they start imagining things.

Because it appeared only I was left in the area, I felt safer. I started getting out and searching houses. Most had already been vandalized. All down my street, all the front doors were kicked down or pried open and the windows broken. But with diligence, I found a number of handy things left behind: a new wardrobe, a dandy Rainbow III 14" hunting knife with sheath, several flashlights, oil lamps, a tent, sleeping bags, miscellaneous camping gear, a Mossberg pump action shotgun with folding stock and several boxes of shells, extra bullets for my pistol and rifle. Just in case currency was ever needed, and it was unlikely the dollar would be traded again, I pried the diamonds off at least 100 skeleton wives' fingers and put them in a pouch. Food was extremely scarce. The evidence left by break-ins showed that a meal was usually the target of burglaries, as the kitchens were usually ravaged, the floors cluttered with smashed dishes, while the other rooms were untouched. I remembered talk of famine on the news, just before the electricity finally went out and didn't come back on.  Finding only one can of corn, a jar of mustard, and 3 packages of Ramen noodles after searching no fewer than 300 homes confirmed the food shortage and increased my concern over what I'd do when my chili and wine ran out. Nevertheless, some things were looking up. During my scavenging through houses, I started taking my shits in style again, sitting on cool porcelain rather than squatting in the street. When there was still water in a toilet's reservoir, I could have a crap, and flush the load down, just like in the good old days. There was rarely any toilet paper around, probably a result of a shortage of that too, so I'd just wipe my ass with the bath towels. Every crap I took was in different bathroom in a different house. It was magnificent! I felt like a king. I was shitting all over the neighborhood.

However, it wasn't too long before I discovered I wasn't alone. I was rummaging through yet another house and had just hit a jackpot: a wooden chest filled with 100s of Hustler, Penthouse, and Playboy Magazines! My elation was so high I wasn't thinking of anything but spending the rest of the afternoon jacking off. With chest in arms, and my SKS left behind, I hurried out the front door with the load and found myself standing face-to-face with the meanest looking, biggest damn wolf I'd ever seen. The beast's head was as big as the head of a lion, and it stood at least 5' tall at the shoulders.

"FUCK!"

I dropped the chest and it splintered into pieces. Porn went flying in every direction. Before I knew it, I was back in the house, hiding behind a wall, locked and loaded. I could barely breathe or hold my piss I was so terrified.

"Johnny?" Said a deep voice. It was in the house!

"FUCK!"

"Johnny? Don't worry. I don't bite. Come on out."

My throat clenched with fear and I gripped my SKS even more tightly in my cold hands.  Somehow, I found the strength to yell out with crackling voice. "I... I... I'm going to kill you, y... yo... you mother fucker!" I had to be delusional. I had to be. I was losing it. Quickly I popped a look around the wall. "FUCK!" The giant wolf was at the front door, its head inside, and its body outside. I think its broad shoulders couldn't fit through.

"Johnny?"

I had to be dreaming, and if I wasn't? Well, then... This could be the end of me.  How did this monster know my name? How?

"W... Wh... What do you want!"

"Don't worry Johnny," said the resounding voice. "Vina sent me. I'm here because there is a lot of me in you and a lot of you in me."

"Am I dreaming?" I yelled out.

"In some ways you are, Johnny. But I'm real. Granted, I'm not of this world. You can think of me as a heavenly messenger."

Sent by Vina? Could it be true? I had nearly forgotten Her, how She'd saved me from The Disease. I'd prayed to Her less and less each day thereafter, until finally I'd stopped. My belief in Her had waned to skepticism, until now.  Still, I was hesitant to trust the wolf. It was big enough to swallow me without chewing.

The giant wolf spoke again. "Johnny, I'll leave you for now, but I will come back in a few days when you know I mean well. Until then, think about how we are alike in many ways. I like wine too!"

"I'm not coming out!" I yelled from behind the wall. It seemed the safest course of action.

"Very well," chuckled the deep voice. "Until we meet again, Johnnywulf."

I must have crouched behind the wall for 3 hours. Finally, I got the nerve to poke my head out then hurry home with my tail between my legs. I didn't even stop to pick up any of the several 100 porn mags tumbling down the street in the wind and blanketing the lawns.

When I made it home, I was amazed at what stood before me, stacked to the ceiling of the dining room, living room, kitchen and hallway: 1000s and 1000s of cardboard kegs of wine and cans of chili, perhaps 10 times what I had started with! The Goddess had indeed showered me with gifts and had sent a messenger from heaven!

But why had the giant wolf called me that name? Johnnywulf?