Andy pulled into the village of Tapaste. The rain hadn’t made it to the far side of the mountain, and a fresh breeze blew over a village which took a step back in time. The bus rumbled down the cobbled street toward the central park and the once ivory-white church, which now sat gracing the one end of the park.

“Welcome to the humble roots of my ancestors,” Andy yelled over the top of the air brakes.

The bus ground to a halt and the door opened. The pack stepped onto the sidewalk and stretched their legs. Locals sat at the small stores which sold local coffee, cocoa, and cold beers. Their eyes were firmly fixed on the pack of strangers who now graced their streets. Andy stepped off the bus and got his bearings.

“It’s been such a long time since I’ve been here,” he said. “Keep your eyes open for Chico de Cafe.”

He walked toward the closest store and asked where the cafe was. He huffed when he was informed the cafe had been closed. Andy heard better news when he asked where Mila lived. An old Cuban who sat puffing on a cigar made from leaves grown (not far away from the village) pointed down the street which led to the lake. There, a sky-blue house where chairs and tables were placed and an old woman who served the best fried banana in town.

The pack headed down the street and soon spotted the blue house. He led them under the archway before an old woman walked from behind a large counter. She ambled and her back was hunched. It’d been many years since she’d stood straight.

“Eight fried banana,” Andy said while the others pulled creaky wooden chairs from tables made from fallen branches and sliced tree trunks.

The old women lifted her weathered face. Deep wrinkles filled the corners of her eyes which struggled to see the person in front of her. Her shaky hand lifted the spectacles which hung on a leather lanyard around her neck. She pushed them up her nose and looked toward...

“Andy?” Her mind was obviously much sharper than her stance. She removed her spectacles, once her tears of joy ran through the deep crevices, carving into her cheeks. “It’s been so long.”

“It’s been too long,” he replied as he pulled his grandmother closer to him and gave her a huge hug. “I know it doesn’t sound good, but we’ve come for your help.” His grandmother smiled and tightened her lips. Her fingers lifted the handkerchief she pulled from her housecoat and she wiped her eyes.

“Let me get you those fried bananas first.”

The smell of cooking oil wafted from the back kitchen. The sizzle of ripe banana slices dipped in her secret batter now sizzled. Maria and Sascha stood to help her carry the plates. Eight was way-too-many for a woman of her age.

The dishes smelled delicious, and a large scoop of homemade ice cream started to melt at the side. The pack began eating, and the small diner fell silent. Playing kids ran to the door screaming for banana, holding a coin out with their grubby fingers. Mila waved them away and told them to come back later. She made the best in Cuba, never mind the village, and she knew they’d come back.

Andy commented it took him back to his childhood when he’d visited more often. His grandma replied it appeared he’d been eating someone else’s from the pounds which were packed around his belly.

“What do you need help with, anyway? I don’t have much money,” she said.

Andy explained it wasn’t a financial issue. Gabriel and Sascha decided in private they’d leave her a donation. If she was the step to getting his wolf back finally, he wanted to show his gratitude.

Andy swallowed the large banana slice and answered. “We need a Palo ritual performed for my good friend Gabriel, he’s here.”

Mila turned and lifted her spectacles to her eyes. She took hold of Gabriel’s hand. “What’re you missing, son?” she asked.

Gabriel looked back sheepishly. “My inner wolf. I lost it by my own hand.” He glanced to Declan who looked back very supportively while Noelle and Maria giggled.

“I’ll need to contact the others to make sure it’s possible. From this trip and all this way, I’m guessing it’s urgent.”

Gabriel clenched Mila’s fingers while he explained how long it’d been since he’d felt free and could run with the pack like an equal.

“I know how you feel,” she replied.

When he asked if she’d lost her inner wolf, she laughed. A hearty laugh for a woman who was at such a ripe old age. “No, I can’t run around with the younger generations anymore.”

Mila said she’d contact the ones who’d perform the ritual. The altar and the animal needed to be prepared. She pulled a cell out of her housecoat and dialed a number. Mila raised her hand as she stood, and then she made her way into the back room. Her crackled voice was muffled, but could be heard when she spoke into the phone. She stopped talking and ambled back to the front of the counter.

“You’re in luck. I told them it was a close friend and they said they could fit you in.”

“Fit me in? That makes it sound really commercial.”

Mila leaned on the back of Maria’s chair. “Don’t you believe it? Business is booming for the intervention of black magic.”

Gabriel sighed and explained he wasn’t after anything black. He only wanted his wolf back.

“If they can do it, they will. Meet me outside the church at twelve.”

They all stood and patted their swollen bellies, and not one dish had a single slice of banana remaining on it. They stepped down the single stone step to the narrow sidewalk, and readied themselves to head back to the bus.

“One more thing,” Mila said.

“What’s that?”

“Bring an animal. A sheep or a goat.”

Gabriel became puzzled and turned back to Mila. “What’s that for, a sacrifice?”

She rested her hand on the weather-stripped door frame and shook her head. “No, it’s for a BBQ,” she said. Gabriel chortled. “Of course it’s for a sacrifice; the damned thing’s going to have its throat cut from ear to ear. Her finger drew a line in the air from one of her ears to the other. “It’s not fair but it needs to happen.”

He turned back and jogged to catch up with the rest of the pack. He explained they needed to find a small animal. It appeared to be a much more original request that would be able to be achieved. But where could a pack of strangers see an animal in a small village in the middle of nowhere?

As they approached the top of the street, sounds emanated from the town square. The bus was swamped by street vendors who’d set up stalls for the dinnertime sales. Fresh vegetables rolled around in wicker baskets, and eggs sat in sixes in thin cellophane bags. From the far end of the park came the faint noise. Piglets ran around in a makeshift pen.

“Would you believe it?” Gabriel commented.

The farmer was confused as to why they never argued about the price. With his first amount, Gabriel paid and said to keep the change. The farmer (not being one for an argument or a barter) keenly shoved the notes into his battered pant pocket. His job was done for the day, and any other sales would be a bonus.

Gabriel smiled as he jubilantly held his piglet underneath his arm. “I’ve got my sacrifice,” he said, whereas the rest of the pack scowled at him. “Don’t look at me in such way, and what’s wrong with you all?” One after the other, the pack members folded their arms.

Declan stepped forward. “What time is it?”

Gabriel turned and looked up at the faded gold hands on the black clock face. “Five-thirty.”

“What time’s the ritual?”

Proudly, Gabriel said they needed to meet the old woman precisely where they stood at twelve-thirty.

Declan posed the question of how many hours it was in-between the two. Gabriel managed to count on his fingers while the piglet kicked and squealed.

“Seven!”

Declan asked Gabriel where he planned on keeping the pig for seven hours. He started to say the obvious (on the bus) and was greeted unkindly by seven shaking heads. Pigs (and especially piglets) had a terrible habit of leaving their ‘trademark’ everywhere. Noelle pointed out that Drake’s diapers were terrible enough, but a piglet which had the freedom to roam around was going to cause a hell of a stink. Gabriel looked down at the piglet and then back toward the pack.

“Have any of you got any suggestions?”

All the pack came up with the same answer. “Buy a dog lead or find a piece of rope.”

Gabriel watched, seeing now that the street vendors parted with empty baskets and empty pig pens. He roamed around the grounds with the piglet trawling behind him. It was on the end of a plastic string that the locals used to secure cartons. He noticed how slow an hour was when time stopped. He’d laid on the park bench with the piglet tied to his ankle while he attempted to rest.

His head was placed on his jacket, and the piglet yanked against his leg while it twisted the string around the base of the bench. A few childish squeals and he surrendered and picked up the piglet into his arms. The bars finally opened and Gabriel roamed around under the amber glow of the streetlights. He’d circled the village square enough times to count the massive stone blocks which made up the front of the church. Still over an hour to go. He stopped at a bar and asked for a local beer. He sipped, and he strolled for another lap of the square.

The bottle hung in his fingers while cigar smoke and laughter filled the main bars which fronted the park. He looked facing the bus and spotted they were all busy chatting and laughing while every now and again looking to see if they could place him.

“It’s okay, Pumbaa (Gabriel’s short-term name for the piglet) it’s not as if this is going to be every day,” he muttered, after sipping from his bottle.

“Hey señor. Bonito perro,” he heard on more than one occasion.

Means to an end, that’s all it is.

Gabriel heard a tapping sound from the end of the street. He paused and looked up to the clock. Mila walked around the corner with her four-footed walking aid gripped firmly in her fingers. He dashed to her and offered her his arm.

Since when did I become sympathetic and helpful? Hmm… that’s Sascha’s effect on me.

“I see you’ve found an animal.” Gabriel said the market was on; he’d been in and out of the park since five as the others wouldn’t let him on the bus.

Mila lifted her gaze and looked at him with blurry eyes. “Why didn’t you just tie it to the fence?”

He shook his head in defense. “It didn’t seem right at the time.”

Why didn’t I tie it to the fence?

The pack finally descended from the bus. Mila led them up the church steps. Declan pushed against the large wooden doors which creaked while they opened. Mila explained they needed to go down into the catacombs for the ritual. Another door at the far end of the church led downstairs, and was lit by candles.

The smell of incense filled the air while they walked through an archway into a bright white room. A thick fog of cigar smoke filled the ceiling because the bulb swayed slightly. A mixed row of older men and younger guys sat drumming lightly on manmade drums. The sound echoed around the room because a few of the older Cuban women sat puffing on their cigars.

Gabriel spotted the simple altar. A bucket filled with sticks of charcoaled wood and tar-covered rocks. One of the guys took the piglet and hung it from its rear legs. It swung and squealed in equal measure. The nominated priestess showed herself, while the singing started to increase to the sound of the drums. Two ladies danced in the circle as a trance-like state took over the priestess. She spoke words in a foreign tongue.

She reached for the piglet and slashed its throat with an old carving knife. A cup was held under the warm blood which spilled onto a freshly chalked image on the floor. Dots of dark crimson covered the area under the piglet; its last heartbeat was gone. The cup was placed on the altar as words of black magic were shouted, all with heads held upward to the gods, whoever they were. Outstretched arms and waved fingers increased when the sound of drums became unbearable.

Gabriel stood at the front of the pack and waited for the spell to be cast. He relished the fact he could run with them all again and hunt. He was excited. Blood pumped through his veins, and his heart raced at an incredible rate. The priestess took the cup of blood and dipped her thumb into it. She turned and drew on Gabriel’s brow; a trickle of warm blood ran down the side of his nose as the priestess raised the cup and sipped. She lowered the earthenware cup and offered the cup to Gabriel. He looked around and spotted Mila nodding. His fingers touched that of the priestess. He felt the power in her and slowly lifted the cup. He held it to his lips and paused. It dawned on him it was something he’d done a hundred times before while hunting. The bowl pushed up and passed his lips, and he drank.

“All of it,” the priestess said. Gabriel raised the cup and let the warm salty blood trickle down his throat in a continual stream. He lowered the cup and handed it back to the priestess. “The spell’s done.”

Gabriel felt a massive weight lifted from his shoulders. He was a wolf again. He couldn’t wait to test his body and see how it reacted. The priestess staggered while two guys held her up and lowered her to a chair. Her eyes rolled, and the whites were showed to everyone in the room. Mila leaned forward and quietly explained to Gabriel. This was the vital part. If he wanted his wolf back, this was how it was going to be.

The priestess arched her back, and her huge, dark-skinned breasts pushed upward. She slumped and spoke in an eerie tone.

“Your enemy, Gabriel, you need to be bitten by your enemy,” the dark voice of the priestess boomed.

I need to be bitten by my enemy. Check!

What?

Gabriel’s mind was filled with emotions. Was he or wasn’t he about to get his wolf back as soon as he exited the church? He turned to Mila. She mouthed one word to him.

“Listen.”

The priestess started talking again. It was the second step he had to complete.

Fuck…fuck…fuck. How many more freakin’ steps am I gonna have to take?

The dark voice boomed again through the beat of the hands-on wooden drums. The priestess’ head lolled from side to side.

“You need to feel the embrace of a shaman to seal the spell.”

WHAT? I can’t even find a fucking shaman. How the hell can I embrace one?

The priestess passed out while the women stopped dancing and the beat of the drums stopped. The only sound was the creaking of the hook where the piglet now swung.

“It’s over?” Declan asked.

Mila nodded and said she’d explain when they reached the front of the church. Gabriel walked with his hand clenched, and he walked by Sascha. He wasn’t sure what just happened, but the end result wasn’t as he’d expected.

The pack walked from the front of the church and sat on the stone steps. Andy came from the bus and asked how it’d gone. He made a comic gesture to Gabriel like a wolf.

“Grrr.” It was more like a tiger growl, and it dropped faster than a hot potato.

“I’m not sure how I feel, but it’s nothing wolf-like. Mila, can you explain it to me?”

Mila rested both her hands on her four-footed walking aid and explained. The priestess tried, but the power needed to fix him was too much. They saw how the priestess fainted toward the end. She was drained of all her energy.

Gabriel sat with hunched shoulders. Sascha massaged the tense muscles while he sighed and raised his head.

“I feel like we’ve taken a step backward. Before, I only needed a shaman to do all of it. Now I need to be bitten by my enemy and then embrace a shaman,” he muttered. “Shamans are ancient and wrinkly.”

Mila started to speak. “It might not appear to have helped him, but the spell has made things easier for him. He’ll find he has his wolf back when he least expects it.”

Gabriel huffed a short giggle. It wasn’t a humorous one; it was the only sound he could muster without actually crying.

“I don’t expect my wolf back at any time, now. I’ll be as much use as Pumbaa who’s been slaughtered for nothing.”

The pack stood and slowly headed back to the bus. There was a break in the weather and now was the best time to make a move, it seemed. Gabriel walked with his head bowed. Sascha stopped him and whispered about the donation he wanted to make to Mila.

I shouldn’t pay for anything. Nothing’s been resolved.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. He placed it in Mila’s hand. “Here. Use this to get a place on the square. And hire someone to help you.” Mila tried to push the envelope back to him. He refused. “Take it. You kept your side of the bargain.”

She smiled and said to come back to visit when the time was right. He wasn’t sure, although she seemed deadly confident about it. He walked to the bus with Sascha’s arm linked through his.

Mila smiled, lovingly. “Take care, Gabriel, you no longer have to watch your back.” Gabriel paused and turned. “Put faith in the ones closest to you,” Mila muttered to herself.

Gabriel blinked, and Mila was gone.

“With head bowed she found out that a few things are worth dying for.”