The Talisman

down his chin. He was so hungry he could scarcely bother to chew. Three enormous bites took most of the big sandwich. He had just worked his mouth far enough around the remainder to take a fourth when he saw through the doors that Wolf had attracted a crowd of children. The meat congealed in his mouth, and his stomach slammed shut.
    Jack hurried outside, still trying to swallow his mouthful of ground chuck, limp bread, pickles, lettuce, tomatoes, and sauce. The kids stood in the street on three sides of Wolf, staring at him every bit as frankly as the waitress had stared at Jack. Wolf had hunched down on the curb as far as he was able, bowing his back and pulling in his neck like a turtle. His ears seemed flattened against his head. The wad of food stuck in Jack’s throat like a golfball, and when he swallowed convulsively, it dropped down another notch.
    Wolf glanced at him out of the side of his eye, and visibly relaxed. A tall blue-jeaned man in his twenties opened the door of a battered red pick-up five or six feet away down the curb, leaned against the cab, and watched, smiling. ‘Have a burger, Wolf,’ Jack said as carelessly as he could. He handed Wolf the box, which Wolf sniffed. Then Wolf lifted his head and took a huge bite out of the box. He began methodically to chew. The children, astounded and fascinated, stepped nearer. A few of them were giggling. ‘What is he?’ asked a little girl with blond pigtails tied with fuzzy pink gift-wrapping yarn. ‘Is he a monster?’ A crewcut boy of seven or eight shoved himself in front of the girl and said, ‘He’s the Hulk, isn’t he? He’s really the Hulk. Hey? Hey? Huh? Right?’
    Wolf had managed to extract what was left of his Whopper from its cardboard container. He pushed the whole thing into his mouth with his palm. Shreds of lettuce fell between his upraised knees, mayonnaise and meat juices smeared over his chin, his cheek. Everything else became a brownish pulp smacked to death between Wolf’s enormous teeth. When he swallowed he started to lick the inside of the box.
    Jack gently took the container out of his hands. ‘No, he’s just my cousin. He’s not a monster, and he’s not the Hulk. Why don’t you kids get away and leave us alone, huh? Go on. Leave us alone.’
    They continued to stare. Wolf was now licking his fingers.
    ‘If you keep on gawping at him like that, you might make him mad. I don’t know what he’d do if he got mad.’
    The boy with the crewcut had seen David Banner’s transformation often enough to have an idea of what anger might do to this monstrous Burger King carnivore. He stepped back. Most of the others moved back with him.
    ‘Go on, please,’ Jack said, but the children had frozen again.
    Wolf rose up mountainously, his fists clenched. ‘GOD POUND YOU, DON’T LOOK AT ME!’ he bellowed. ‘DON’T MAKE ME FEEL FUNNY! EVERYBODY MAKES ME FEEL FUNNY!’
    The children scattered. Breathing hard, red-faced, Wolf stood and watched them disappear up Daleville’s Main Street and around the corner. When they were gone, he wrapped his arms around his chest and looked dartingly at Jack. He was miserable with embarrassment. ‘Wolf shouldn’t have yelled,’ he said. ‘They were just little ones.’
    ‘Big fat scare’ll do them a lot of good,’ a voice said, and Jack saw that the young man from the red pick-up was still leaning against his cab, smiling at them. ‘Never saw anything like that before myself. Cousins, are you?’
    Jack nodded suspiciously.
    ‘Hey, I didn’t mean to get personal or anything.’ He stepped forward, an easy, dark-haired young man in a sleeveless down vest and a plaid shirt. ‘I especially don’t want to make anybody feel funny now, ya know.’ He paused, lifted his hands, palm-out. ‘Really. I was just thinking that you guys look like you’ve been on the road awhile.’
    Jack glanced at Wolf, who was still hugging himself in embarrassment but also glowering through his round glasses at this figure.
    ‘I’ve been there myself,’ the man said. ‘Hey, dig it – the year I got out of good old DHS – Daleville High, you know – I hitched all the way to northern California and all the way back. Anyhow, if you’re sort of going west, I can give you a lift.’
    ‘Can’t, Jacky.’ Wolf spoke in a thunderous stage whisper.
    ‘How far west?’ Jack asked. ‘We’re trying to make it to Springfield. I have a friend in Springfield.’
    ‘Hey, no probleema, seenyor.’ He raised