The Wolf Came on Christmas (Johanna and Alexander) novel Chapter 7

Chapter 7

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I reached the urban area and stopped the jeep in front of the store, where, with luck, I might find everything I needed to get by. Where no business was big enough or well stocked enough, and if you wanted to buy several things from different departments, you usually had to cross half the town searching. I tried not to make too much of a problem out of it; after all, how long was I going to have those strange beings in my house? No idea

I slipped my wallet into the pocket of my coat, thinking about the credit card limit, but in the end I

didn’t get out of the vehicle.

No. I simply stayed there for a couple of minutes.

A terrible exhaustion and an unfamiliar heaviness ran down my arms and legs. I felt weak, drowsy. A little dizzy, too. I hadn’t eaten anything solid since dinner the night before, and I hadn’t tried to rest either, because my nerves wouldn’t have allowed me to take a nap. The only thing in my stomach was a bit of very sweet coffee, and even that wasn’t helping. I hadn’t slept so I wouldn’t lose sight of Andre or the baby, or their father. Without a doubt, being in a constant state of tension wasn’t helping my mental health at all.

I opened my eyes wide when I saw, out of the corner of my eye, my hands trembling on the steering wheel. I pulled off my gloves with my teeth, quickly, and stared impassively at my fingers.

It wasn’t from the cold.

Fear? Was I really that scared?

Maybe it was the exhaustion. I didn’t feel sick, nor on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

I knew very well what a crisis felt like-I would have noticed. I don’t like remembering that, either.

I got out of the jeep right away and went into the store. I didn’t take long: with a cart I grabbed some cartons of milk, baby formula (I bought three different brands, just in case), several jars of baby food, some boxes of cereal, a bit of fruit yogurt, and a few packages of diapers (also three different brands). All of it as if I were floating on a cloud or something like that. I don’t know how to describe it, but even though I know I spent quite a while inside the store, I don’t remember buying that can of Red Bull until I found myself back in the eep’s cabin, drinking it.

Alright. Maybe I needed sleep.

Urgently.

Sleep, without thinking about what I was going to do next.

t

I went to two more stores and bought wet wipes, ontment for irritation, and some baby clothes, estimating the size by eye so the garments would be big on Sasha. That’s when it occurred to me to buy a portable crib, one of those that can be placed on a table. They were reasonably priced,

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and I saw an immediate use for it. In another shop found sweaters, T-shirts, underwear, and some sweatpants for the boy, socks and adjustable sneakers in case I couldn’t guess his shoe size; and I found myself with the difficult decision of whether or not I should buy clothes for the man. I mean, I was going to have to, because I had none of Paul’s clothes.

And judging by the size of that man, he would never have fit into Paul’s clothes anyway.

I decided to take only a few shirts, a couple of T-shirts, oversized hoodies, and some jeans. It had to be enough. The hard part was thinking about underwear. I hadn’t thought much about men in the last two years, and I felt very embarrassed having to search through the neatly ordered boxes in the store until I found something that might-or might not-serve the purpose. The same with shoes; that was a struggle too. In general, choosing anything was difficult: first, because I was nervous, and second, because I had no idea about anyone’s sizes. Thank God that truck driver didn’t notice I was standing behind him measuring shirts against the width of his shoulders, or l would’ve been even more embarrassed trying to explain.

Alright. I was the kind of journalist whose strength was writing, not action. At the Minneapolis

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under my roof? I should have been more focused on the next step, not on keeping a finger

hovering over the quick dial for 911 all the time.

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The truth was that I couldn’t see Andre capable of Hurting anyone. Or his father, at times. By then, I was already convinced that somewhere else they were normal people and had normal lives. Hadn’t the boy shown that he was civilized? Something told me they weren’t harmful beings, nor ones to be feared; maybe we could sort everything but by talking. Of course, this argument had no solid foundation, and it was only a matter of time before fear finally found me again-I knew that

very well too.

I decided not to stop at the sheriff’s station. It made no sense.

I couldn’t stop thinking about those two shots, so well placed.

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