Rehabilitated: Part Two
A parolee sets out to complete his rehabilitation for his accused crime.
By noon, BB, footsore and hungry, was still no closer to discovering the whereabouts of Woodland Drive. As he traipsed along the street, looking for somewhere offering a free feed for an unfortunate, the pavement thickened with all manner of fairy-tale archetypes eager to beat the queues during the lunchtime rush. An irritated BB weaved amongst the oncoming pedestrians until, ahead, he spied a little old man—with a cherubic countenance that belied his advanced years—standing kerbside.
BB walked up to him and said, ‘I say, buddy, can you please direct me to Woodland Drive?’
The man looked up at BB and his face paled. His eyes whitened and widened, and his mouth gaped. With a raised arm, he pointed at BB and cried, ‘Wolf! Wolf!’
‘Hey, keep it down, pal. I’m not here to fleece you. I’m just after direct—’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’
‘Yes, yes, I know. Away for five hundred years, yet people still recognise me in the street. Such are the perils of infamy.’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’
‘Whoa! You’re quite the vocabularian, aren’t you?’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’
‘Hey, now I know where I’ve seen you before. You’re that little boy who cried wolf. We worked together in that fable that Aesop bloke wrote all those years ago. Remember? But hey, look at you now, all old and wrinkly—though you’re still little. Somebody didn’t eat his greens while growing up.’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’
‘Look about, pal. No one’s paying the slightest attention. No one believed you back then, and sure as hell no one’s going to believe you now. So holler away till the sheep come home, for all I care.’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’
‘Didn’t your momma ever tell you it’s rude to point? And while you’re at it, why don’t you shout to the world that you’re a snitch? It was you who dobbed me in to the authorities. Accused me of binge-eating your flock. Hey, I never touched your sheep.’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’
‘When you’ve served a long, long time like me, you hear whispers inside—rumours and such like—and I heard that a certain young lad had procured by payment in shanks the services of a promiscuous shepherdess by the name of Bo Peep, who’d battered her eyelids and pretended she’d lost all her sheep and didn’t know where to find them. Heard this lad couldn’t leave her alone, couldn’t help but wag his tail. Heard he lost his virginity and his flock within a week. Heard he then went home and blabbed to his father that the wolf—moi, no less—had eaten the entire flock. But that’s not the worst of it. He couldn’t help himself. Every time someone asked him who’d committed a crime in a fairy tale, he’d just come straight out and blab—’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’
‘Exactly. Then, when they convicted me for that crime with Red and her grandmother and went to determine my sentence, they referenced all these wild accusations you’d made about me and my purported nefarious roles in the Literary Canon. All lies. All bullshit. All enough to get me a life sentence.’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’
‘Will you shut up for a minute! I’m not going to report you for bearing false witness. I’m not going to even hurt you; though, when inside, I secretly wished a plague of venereal disease upon your nether regions. But hey, I’m rehabilitated. What’s done is done. Look, I just want you to point me in the direction of Woodland Drive.’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’ The old man pointed a trembling finger towards the distant skyscraper.
‘The skyscraper?’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’ The old man shook his head and made a pushing motion with his arms.
‘Beyond the skyscraper?’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’ The old man nodded, raising two fingers.
‘Hey, flock you, too, buddy.’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’ The old man shook his head and waved the two raised fingers.
‘Two? Oh, I get you. Two streets beyond the skyscraper?’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’ The old man nodded his head.
‘Do I turn left or right?’
‘Wolf! Wolf!’ The old man waved his left arm.
‘Thanks, buddy.’ BB stepped forward, raised his hand and stood over the old man crying wolf.
‘Wolf! Wolf!’ And the old man cowered beneath BB’s baleful stance.
‘By the way, little man, I forgive you. I absolve you of your sin.’ BB made the sign of the cross above the old man’s head. He reached into his bag, pulled out the pair of socks, separated them and inserted one into the old man’s gaping mouth. BB turned, and with a determined gait, he headed towards the skyscraper in the distance.
‘Mmmm! … Mmmm! …’ the old man said as his face reddened.
BB turned back and shouted, ‘Ha! Lost for words now, you pathetic piece of perjuring pond scum. As for that mendacious mouth of yours—I always wanted to put a sock in it. Give my regards to Bo.’
