SECTION 2 - PAGE 7 THE WOLF & I

                                                             THE WOLF & I

In a distant time and place, seemingly so long ago now but not really, 
I met this wolf.

Now normally Bears and Wolves are not 
natural friends. Not enemies exactly, but...
kinda wary residents of the same space in wooded areas of the northern United States.

But THIS wolf was different. 
VERY VERY different...
as am I, the Bear.

In fact if I didn't have that chin hair you might not even realize I am a Bear at all. 

But I am.

Yep. GROWL.

I am best known of course for my charismatic personality and my huggability.

OH GOD yes... 

I am the delight of children 

and hug-deprived adults alike. 

I do a GREAT BEAR HUG...

with sound effects too.

GROWL!

Here is the wolf. Human version and

wolf version.

You can see the resemblance I am sure.

Anyway, one night I felt restless

and out of sorts...kinda like tonight, 

but for once I didn't feel like writing as I 

usually do when in this frame of mind.

I couldn't figure out why but...

Then I went to my computer and brought up

a friend of mine on Twitter...

and THAT is where I heard it.

I am sure my friend Al heard it too 

although I have never asked him. 

But yes I am sure of it.

Faint at first, then louder...

and almost as if he was INSIDE of me.

Which is preposterous of course. 

I mean, how can that be, RIGHT?

But that is the way it felt 

and I knew it

& as he later told me, so did he.

I was in my house in Michigan 

in the American midwest.

 Al was in his office in his house in 

Sacramento California in the western US, 

and Mustafa was in his home office in 

his apartment in Kabul Afghanistan. 

AHH the wonders of modern technology.

But...

how in the world even considering that, 

could I hear...

Anyway, it was then that I heard 

the sound of the wolf baying...

it made the hair on the back of my neck 

(and everywhere else to be honest) 

stand on end.

Soft at first, then louder and louder 

as we talked.

I had never EVER talked to an Afghan before and indeed knew little about Afghanistan 

three years ago. I also, I am ashamed to say, knew NOTHING ABOUT Mustafa either. 

He was big stuff as I learned...

HAD BEEN...

BUT...

I had never heard of him and 

DID NOT KNOW how important he was (& is) 

to the Afghanistan war and the reporting of it.

I knew nothing of his background. Nothing of his being in the Afghan military, being seriously wounded, nor his work with the UN OR his journalism credentials. Not about his college time in India. I didn't know his father, 

Dr. Sayed Kazemi.

NOTHING...

and yet, from the git-go

it FELT like I did. Not the details 

but he immediately put me at ease.

NOBODY DOES THAT!

TRUST ME!

I was born with S.A.D. 

(Social Anxiety Disorder 

and its running mate
Seasonal Affective Disorder) 

and NOBODY can put me at ease...

even my own mother who also had it
and who I dearly loved but no.

HE DID...

and at times it was like being with 

an old friend. On the phone or 

on the internet, or emails...

always the same.

AND CONSTANTLY, that baying. 

That calling...

I would wake up knowing he was 

into something. I would worry 

even though 

he would tell me not to.

I started writing about him 

and through it all...

the night sounds of the wolf 

permeated 

it all. 

Not as much to be honest,
but it still does.

WHO then IS this charismatic soul/human/journalist/Wolf 

who from that 

VERY FIRST NIGHT 

called me his mate.

It stuck. I was. 

The wolf? 

His name was and is Mustafa. 

Mustafa Kazemi...and 

in my dreams still, 

I hear him.

I hear his heart...

baying, calling...

for what I do not know 

but it is still there...

and it haunts me.

It is as strong as ever 

and it never really goes away.

But...

that baying...

that eerily haunting sound 

of a wolf

 CRYING OUT

CALLING

ALMOST PLEADING

can bring me out of a sound sleep.

Often has...

and his sound (Mustafa's)

has now been joined by another.

(Getting a little crowded in here, boys).

WHO?

I have NOT a clue.

But it is messing with my mind.

I cannot tell from where it is coming,

but coming it definitely is.

I have no idea.

Eerie. The kind of eerie that makes 

your skin kinda crawly.

Not creepy, but...well, you know.

Now what? 

I don't know.

STAY TUNED.

WATCH THIS SPACE

and let the sound of the wolf 

rise to the level of the sound 

of the Bear...CRYING OUT.

In the woods...at night

in the moonlight...

CALLING CALLING CALLING...

for...

I don't know...but it haunts me.

It won't let me go.

Mustafa, won't let me go

But this new sound. IT TOO,

won't let me go...

Calling, Calling, Calling

and in the really misty 

kinda mystical 

and almost magical 

moonlight,

I hear you calling me...

CALLING me...

CALLING me...

Is it a call for help? Love?

ARE YOU CRYING?

HEY, ARE YOU...

CRYING? 

I only wish I knew.

TBC