The Mark of the Wolf

Photo: National Park Service (NPS). Public domain.

I knew from the start that I never should have gone to the Galloping Stallion Saloon that evening. My work load was piling up and there were many more important matters to look after. But it had been a hectic day and this was a well-deserved rest, not to mention the fact that it was Friday.

I had consumed about five beers and was still relatively sober when a peculiar-looking gentleman sat down beside me and ordered a glass of white wine. The fellow was about 50 years old and wearing a huge fur coat, a thick brown scarf and a black wide-brimmed hat. In short, he looked something like a bear. His hat and scarf partially obscured his face but I could discern a thick black moustache. I watched him sip his wine, so slowly, so meticulously. Curiously, I observed him for several minutes, my eyes transfixed. Suddenly he returned my gaze. I jumped, nearly knocking my beer onto the floor.

"Uh, um, hello," I managed to say.

"Good evening," the dark stranger replied. "Did you want something?"

"N-no," I stammered. "I had just never seen you before and I was wondering . . ."

"I do not come here often," he interrupted, seemingly knowing what I was going to say next. "Only when there is good reason."

Upon finishing his sentence, he slipped his right hand into his coat pocket and produced a necklace with what appeared to be some sort of talisman. He dangled it before my eyes for a few moments, then quickly slipped it back into his pocket.

Now I was genuinely perplexed. "What is it?"

The stranger looked me straight in the eyes. It is a talisman of the wolf. Do you wish to buy it?"

I was completely taken aback by his question. I had met this fellow not two minutes ago and already he was trying to sell me some strange charm about which I knew nothing. My lips could not speak.

"He that wears it around his neck shall receive great wealth."

It seemed to me that I had heard that line before. Wherever one went these days, there was always some crackpot selling good luck charms. I recalled the time when I was in Philadelphia and a crazy old woman had tried to sell me a dinosaur tooth which she claimed would protect me from vampires. "I don't believe in vampires," I had calmly replied. 

"I'm sorry, sir," I said, managing as polite a tone as possible. "I'm really not . . ." 

The man seemed angered. "You do not understand!" he cried. There was fire in his eyes. "I speak the truth. Its magic is very powerful. But any one person may only benefit from it seven times. Seven blessings but the eighth time he is cursed. I have made full use of it and would like to be rid of it. It is yours for a mere five dollars!"

"Well, I don't know. . ."

"All right, then, four dollars."

"Now wait a minute, fellow," I said, becoming a bit perturbed myself. "What's the meaning of this? I come in here to relax after a rough day and you start harassing me about some charm I know nothing about! Who do you think you are?"

"Will you at least look at it?" he pleaded. The stranger had an air of desperation about him. I agreed to this, but not without some apprehension. Calmly reaching into his pocket once more, he withdrew the pendant and placed it almost cautiously in the palm of my hand. 

My eyes widened at the sight of the magnificent necklace. The charm was clearly made of solid gold and on the chain was a round, smooth coin with a wolf's head embossed on the front. Two tiny diamond's formed the wolf's eyes. It was a beautiful piece of jewelry and I was immediately captivated by it.

"I'll take it," I said, more to myself than to the stranger. "How much do you want for it?"

The stranger appeared relieved by my decision. "Very good," he replied. "Four dollars, please."

Without taking my eyes from the wolf's head, I fumbled around in my pocket and withdrew my wallet. I opened it up and carefully handed the man four one-dollar bills.

"I must caution you, young man, the talisman is to be worn around your neck at all times until its magic is depleted. If it is removed before then, all its power will be lost. But you may profit from it seven times. After that you must remove . . ."

I could hardly hear the mysterious stranger. I was too entranced by my new purchase. I fingered it for several moments, noting that it was of excellent craftsmanship. And how it glittered in the dim light of the bar. It would certainly be an original present to give to someone, I thought.

". . . or something terrible will surely befall you. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," I replied, slipping the pendant around my neck.

Later that night, I lay in bed fingering the talisman of the wolf and wondering if anything the old man had said was true. Probably not, though it did make a nice piece of jewelry. I decided that there was no harm in wearing it for a few days, as it could do no harm. . . or could it? And if it did work . . . I soon fell into a deep slumber while pondering all the possibilities. I was certainly due for a new automobile.

When I woke up the next morning, I was in a surprisingly good mood. Having obtained a full eight hours of sleep for the first time in years, my body and mind were quite refreshed. When my alarm clock rang at nine that Saturday morning, instead of groaning and swearing as I was accustomed to doing, I leapt cheerfully out of bed, hopped into the shower, dressed myself in my finest pair of slacks and jogged over to the diner where I usually eat breakfast. I was certainly bursting with radiance this day.

"Morning, Rose," I said to my dear friend who had served me breakfast every Saturday for the past three years.

"Alex, sweetheart, you look wonderful today! What'll you have?"

"Just bring me some French toast and a cup of coffee, Rose."

"Sure thing," Rose said, scribbling on her pad.

"Rose," I called out as she turned to make my French toast.

"Yeah, Honey?"

"Do you still sell those lottery tickets here?"

"Sure do, babe."

"I think I'll buy one. I feel lucky today."

Rose looked surprised. "You, Alex? You've never bought a lottery ticket before. But just pay the cashier a dollar on the way out."

I finished my breakfast, wiped my mouth, and waved farewell to Rose, stopping at the cash register to purchase my first lottery ticket.

"I'll take number 613," I said, handing the cashier four quarters.

That evening, I was watching television and munching on potato chips when I realized what time it was. Quickly changing the channel, I glanced at my lottery ticket and waited anxiously for the drawing.

"Good evening, it's almost seven o'clock and time for the drawing of the New York Daily Lottery. Drawing the numbers today will be Dr. Richard Cornback from the American Heart Association."

I was very impatient for the numbers to be picked. Why did they have to take so long with all these formal introductions?

"The first number is a six," said the lottery official. I looked at my ticket. 613. That was a start.

"The second number is a one. That's six, one." 

6-1, I thought. Maybe I was going to win today. But it was more likely a coincidence. I found myself wondering what was done with all the money collected for these lottery tickets. It supposedly went to charity but I had my doubts.

"The last number is a three. And today's Daily Lottery number is 613. Congratulations, number 613! And to the rest of you, try again tomorrow." 

Number 613! I was ecstatic but at the same time incredulous. I looked once more at my ticket number. Unquestionably it was the winning number. Immediately I rushed to my Pontiac and drove to the diner to collect my $500. 

Driving back from Sam's Diner, I reassuringly patted the thick wallet in my pocket. I remembered the talisman of the wolf. I had been wearing it faithfully around my neck since Friday evening. Great wealth, the old man had said. Surely there could be no truth in that. But yet, I could not bring myself to remove the strange charm. Not yet. And maybe it did work. It was certainly an expensive piece of jewelry, if nothing else. Why had the old man sold it to me for a mere four dollars? The whole event was still an enigma to me.

It suddenly became apparent to me that I had not played poker in a long time. Maybe a game on Sunday night with Charlie and Steve was not a bad idea.

I called Steve at about 9 that evening. The phone had rung about 15 times and I was ready to hang up when I heard Steve's voice on the other end of the line; he was groggy and half asleep.

"Steve," I said. "It's been a long time. How are you?"

Steve immediately recognized my voice. 

"Alex!" he shouted excitedly. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, the usual," I said in a casual tone of voice.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Steve replied and burst out laughing.

"Listen, Steve," I said. "What do you have planned for tomorrow night?"

"Not much," he said. "Why?"

"What do you say to you, me and Charlie's getting together and playing some poker?"

"All right," he said.

"Tomorrow night at seven?"

"Why so early, Alex?"

I grinned. "Let's just say that I'd like to get an early start, okay?"

"All right, buddy. Take it easy."

"So long, Steve," I said, suavely putting the phone back into the receiver.

The events that occurred that week were unbelievable. I had pocketed $400 from my poker session with Charlie and Steve; the following day I received a letter from the IRS with a check for $631 attached and on Friday I received a phone call from the radio station to which I listened regularly. The caller informed me that I had won a brand new Mustang in their "Tunes from the 50's Contest." This last event thrilled me. I could finally be rid of my shoddy Pontiac. The necklace, I thought. It had to be the necklace. Next week I would go to Atlantic City and clean out every damn casino there. I wouldn't even bother going to work. I'll never work again, I gloated to myself. 

Monday proved to be a cold and rainy day. I had never seriously minded the rain before but when I had to drive from New York City to Atlantic City, it was a different story. With the help of my wolf's talisman, I would break the bank. The whole situation was unbelievable. But it was happening. It was truly happening.

It was about 5:30 p.m. when my car stopped in front of the Atlantis Casino. The myriad of automobiles filled with eager gamblers, the brilliant lights from the hotels, and the countless shops and stores made for a dazzling view of casino life. I rolled down my window and was approached by a valet parking attendant. 

"Park your car, sir?"

"All right, I replied cautiously. "But be very careful with it. It's brand new."

"Of course, sir."

I confidently strolled into the casino and headed towards the nearest slot machine. I deposited a coin and was not surprised when $100 worth of quarters spilled out onto the floor. Producing a leather sack I had brought along specifically for this purpose, I collected my new-found wealth and proceeded towards the Blackjack table.

I seated myself between two rather strange-looking characters. The woman on my left appeared to be an addicted gambler, but one with plenty of money to spend. A Russian mink coat was draped about her body and her neck was adorned with a string of pearls. In each ear she wore a diamond earring and she had two rings on each hand. Excessive makeup covered her face, although it did little, if anything, to improve her appearance. She was perhaps 40 years old.

The gentleman on my right looked like a villain from a James Bond movie. He was approximately 35 years old and had a long, drooping moustache, slick black hair parted in the center and tiny, almost insidious eyes. He wore a black bow tie with a white cashmere jacket. On the ring finger of his right hand was a large ruby. I felt slightly uncomfortable.

After five minutes of Blackjack I found myself ahead by $100. The woman on my left was doing very poorly, although she seemed to have an infinite supply of money to lose. The sinister-looking man on my right was neither losing nor winning, but had certainly drank his share of liquor. I had $800 in my possession and decided to bet half. I looked at the cards the dealer had placed before me: two aces.

"I'll split," I said to the dealer, pushing another $400 worth of chips towards my cards. I stared in amazement as the dealer placed two kings on top of my two aces.

"Double Blackjack," he shouted. I had just won $1,600. My luck continued throughout the entire game. Within two hours I had accumulated $20,000. Most of the other gamblers had been cleaned out long ago, yet the woman next to me persisted in losing more and more money. It was at this time that the drunken man to my right stumbled away with what little money he had left. 

"I'm going to play the slots," he muttered. "One of those machines is due to hit."

The slots, I thought. That was it. I cashed in my $20,000 worth of chips and sighting a slot machine, I deposited five one-dollar tokens. After ten minutes I had placed $95 worth of tokens into the machine. Depositing the last of $100, I gave the lever a final pull. I walked out of the casino $1,000,000 richer that night. 

I rented a room at the Atlantis and reflected on all that had occurred since Friday night at the Galloping Stallion. The stranger had told the  truth. The talisman of the wolf certainly contained some very potent magic. First my winning the lottery, the $400 from the poker game, the check from the IRS, my new car, the slot machine -it was all very . . . very weird. And that night I had acquired fabulous winnings in the casino. I was never even very good at Blackjack. I had skipped work that day without even notifying my boss. Suddenly, I found myself frightened for the first time. But what was there to worry about? I could go on like this forever. As I drifted off to sleep, I was reminded of something the old man in the bar had told me but I couldn't remember exactly what he had said. Perhaps a warning of some sort . . .

The next day, I decided to give the Atlantis a break and head for home. But something made me go back to the casino. I cashed in my money for chips and sat down at the familiar Blackjack table. 

After two hours of play, I wasn't doing as well as I wanted. What was the matter with the talisman? Finally turning to the dealer, I said, "I've won a million dollars here, so I guess that makes me a high roller. I'd like my own private table, no limits."

The dealer rose from his seat. "Just a moment," he said. A minute later he returned with an oily-looking gentleman. 

"Come with me, sir," said the man. I was promptly lead to a quarter table with seven spots reserved.

Something was terribly amiss that night. After ninety minutes of gambling, my money was disappearing quicker than icicles in August. I was down to my last hand and had a mere $30,000 left. This had to be it. I pushed the entire stack forward. 

"Are you sure about this?" the dealer asked. "That's a lot of . . ."

"It's my money," I snapped. "I know what I'm doing."

The dealer methodically place the first two cards in front of me. A Jack and a five. I was suddenly aware of the sweat running down my temples. 

"Hit me," I said.

He placed another card on the table. It was a three.

"Eighteen," he said. I don't know what happened to me in the next few seconds but some sort of terrible greed overcame me.    


"I'll take another hit," I said almost desperately.

"With eighteen?" the dealer said, amazed. "Are you . . . ?"

"I said hit me!" I hollered back.

Quickly, the dealer placed a fourth card on top of the three. It was an eight.

"Twenty-six," he said calmly. "You're busted."

I watched unbelievably as the dealer collected the remainder of my chips. I had lost. Speechless, I raised myself from the chair and stumbled blindly outside to the parking lot to find my car. It was gone. Then the stranger's words came back to me.

"But you may only profit from it seven times. After that, you must remove it."

So that was it. I had been foiled by greed. That deceitful old villain in the bar. If I ever saw him again . . . Furiously, I reached for the pendant which had hung around my neck for five days. My hands felt nothing but the skin on my throat. I began to walk quickly down the ramp of the parking lot. I froze upon hearing a low growling sound behind me. Very slowly I turned around, almost knowing what to expect.

Twenty feet from where I stood petrified there stood a huge monster. It was five feet tall at the shoulders and must have weighed 1,000 pounds. It stood on all fours, its bushy tail waving back and forth. The bright crimson eyes seemed to burn right through me. It snarled, exposing long white fangs. I wasted no time in fleeing. I ran down the ramp as fast as my meager feet could carry me, which wasn't fast enough. The lupine behemoth was gaining on me. I rushed out of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk, panting like a marathon runner. The wolf was nowhere to be seen. And then I felt the sharp pain in my shoulder. 

Maybe eight hours later I awoke to find myself lying in a hospital bed. Three people were looking down at me. One was unquestionably a police officer; the others were probably a doctor and a nurse.

"Are you all right, son?" asked the policeman. He seemed concerned.

I looked at the three figures surrounding me. 

"Am I alive?" I asked seriously. 

The officer laughed heartily. "Just barely. But tell me, young fellow, who did this to you? Or should I say, what did this to you?"

"Where's the old man?" I mumbled. "Where is he?"

The doctor looked at me quizzically. "You seem to have been attacked by some sort of animal," he said professionally. "Most likely a dog. A very large dog."

"My men found this lying beside you," said the policeman, taking something out of his pocket. "Does this belong to you?"

He held a gold charm in front of my face. Attached to it was a coin with a wolf's head embossed on the front.

"Son?" he said. "Have you ever seen this before?"

"No," I said. "No."

Author's note: I wrote this story circa 1984, and my lack of experience then as a writer shows. Nonetheless, I decided for some reason to preserve it for posterity! 
- A.H.