{"id":159,"date":"2013-11-17T14:52:41","date_gmt":"2013-11-17T22:52:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/?p=159"},"modified":"2013-11-18T08:47:40","modified_gmt":"2013-11-18T16:47:40","slug":"adam-kenworthy-the-prowlers","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/?p=159","title":{"rendered":"Adam Kenworthy<\/strong>: “The Prowlers”"},"content":{"rendered":"

Back then, a town was still small enough to be called a town. This was back before the big river dried up. Before Dorothy left.<\/p>\n

Back then I practiced law. I had my office on Main Street with a stenciled name plate on the door. In the mornings people would pass by my window on their way to the post office. They would wave. It was like that.<\/p>\n

I smoked too much back then. Back then, people still smoked.<\/p>\n

A woman named Lilly was my secretary. She was remarkable with a typewriter. She had very practical wrists. Sometimes she wore ribbons in her nestled blond hair. I would often wonder what it would be like to pull the end of one of those ribbons. What it would be like to hold her down.<\/p>\n

Back then, men had thoughts like this.<\/p>\n

I had many clients. They all had stories. This, you already know.<\/p>\n

This story, this story went like this\u2026<\/p>\n

There was The Shepherd. He came to me one day and took off his hat. He had enormous hands. Hands that could bend steel.<\/p>\n

I offered him a chair. His face had the sun built in.<\/p>\n

-The wolves are at it again, he said.<\/p>\n

-All night? I asked.<\/p>\n

-Yes, he said.<\/p>\n

This was how one figured things back then.<\/p>\n

-You tell the Sheriff? I asked.<\/p>\n

-Sheriff don\u2019t know The Hills, he said.<\/p>\n

I nodded.<\/p>\n

-Wolves supposed to stay their side, he said.<\/p>\n

-So I thought, I said.<\/p>\n

-You got to set it right, he said.<\/p>\n

-I know, I said.<\/p>\n

Two boys had been carried off the year before we moved to town. I\u2019d just opened my office when it all began. It was tough to be a new face in a new town. People never trust an outsider. It\u2019s just how people are.<\/p>\n

That night I setup camp in my pickup out by The Hills. Dorothy made me a warm thermos of coffee and some of her sweet rolls. I finished the bread too early. By dark it was only coffee and the moon.<\/p>\n

They came down by the path, their slight frames dancing like shadows along a wall. I came out of the truck with my briefcase. They circled.<\/p>\n

The old one came close. His snout was whipped with gray. He smiled with tough yellow teeth.<\/p>\n

-You got nerve, he said.<\/p>\n

-It\u2019s my job, I said.<\/p>\n

I put my briefcase on the hood. I rolled the combination and took out the Contract. I held it up high. A great howl rang out.<\/p>\n

-This constitutes a breach of section three, subsection A, I said.<\/p>\n

The old wolf smiled.<\/p>\n

-My client means to hold you to it, I said.<\/p>\n

-Your client\u2019s a thief, he said.<\/p>\n

-Regardless, I said.<\/p>\n

-He hunts our pups, he snarled.<\/p>\n

-You signed, I said, my heart digging deep in my chest.<\/p>\n

-We can wait, he said, starting to crouch.<\/p>\n

-I know, I said.<\/p>\n

-What then? He asked.<\/p>\n

-That\u2019s not my place, I said.<\/p>\n

He bowed his head and gathered the others.<\/p>\n

Before he disappeared, he stopped and turned on his soft paws.<\/p>\n

-Don\u2019t stay too long, he said. That\u2019s the mistake your people make.<\/p>\n

Back then, I still believed a man\u2019s word was as good as his signature on the dotted line. I was young. I was foolish.<\/p>\n

Back then, there were still wolves in The Hills.<\/p>\n

But this was a very long time ago.<\/p>\n

Adam Kenworthy lives in Des Moines, Iowa. \u00a0He studied at the University of Iowa.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Back then, a town was still small enough to be called a town. This was back before the big river...<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":67,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2,7],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-159","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","category-issue_one"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/wp-content\/uploads\/2013\/11\/IMG_0711.jpg","_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/159"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=159"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/159\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":216,"href":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/159\/revisions\/216"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/67"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=159"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=159"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/cronymag.com\/c\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=159"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}