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I was alone, with no one but Jenny to keep me company. The truck takes on an uncaring air without it’’s owner, and I wondered if Winona did the same when I was gone.
I had taken her out to the same place she had taken me the first night we had met, to watch the waxing moon set and the sun rise. When we had gotten there Bark had said she needed to be alone for a while, gotten out of the truck, and walked into the woods without a word or the flashlight.
That was over an hour ago. I was still sitting in the bed, a blanket wrapped around me as I dug though the pockets of my jacket, lost in thought.

A wolf howled.

It wasn’t the normal, power filled, humbling song that one normally hears fill the night sky though. This howl was different.

I had only heard it once before. It seemed like a very long time ago, when I was a junior in high school. My friend and I had gotten up very early one morning to work out at a nearby health club. Afterwards we still had a few hours before school would start, so we decided to stop at a city park on the frozen lake shore and watch the sun rise. There was a zoo at the park, one of the recent additions being a wolf exhibit: a pack of small, skinny looking animals that one never saw except in the newspaper.
We had been sitting there when the silence was disturbed by an out break chorus of howling, something they never did even in the evening, let alone when the park was open.
The melody had been a sad one. They wanted out. A half acre of land is nowhere near enough for a pack to roam, and these wolves hand lost their freedom. They were mourning.
My friend had stood, awestruck, through the entire song. They were crying, and my own sadness had welled up and over flowed. I vowed one day I’d get them out, and as we got into his car I remember the stinging of the wind on tears in my eyes,

As I did now. The wolf wasn’t joined by others as they usually did, and it didn’t stop. This wolf was weeping.

Torturous memories flooded from the most remote corners of my memory. My own father in and out of the hospital while I was young. Grandpa passing away. They gradually evolved and got worse: Mom finding out she had breast cancer. Pulling my friend’s lifeless body from my car after we had been hit by an intoxicated driver. The slam of steel and a yelp as the closest thing to me was lost underneath a taxi.
I had kept my mourning and crying to minimum then, not wanting to hinder those around me. Now everything came flooding back at once, and unable to hold back the onslaught I wept with it.

* * * *

It was well after sunrise when Rebecca came back, looking a little dis-sheveled. I didn’t ask here where she went or what she had done, and she didn’t mention it. I made a note to tell her about the wolf later, maybe it would cheer her up.

As we pulled back into the hospital parking lot she started walking towards the door.

“I’v got to fill out some paperwork, and claim the body. Let’s do something fun tomorrow,” she called back.

“Okay,” I nodded.

As I watched her go in a single flake floated past me, causing me to glance at the now cloudy sky. It had gone from clear to overcast fast, and it looked like the area was going to get it’s first snow in years. I hoped Bark would be all right driving home, snow was a new experience to a lot of people here. Just the threat of it closed schools, and most didn’t drive if they didn’t have to, quiet the opposite to where I was from.

* * * *

She didn’t answer her phone on Sunday, so I drove Winona to her house around noon and knocked on the door.

No answer. There weren't even tire tracks in the melting snow of her driveway, indicating she hadn’t returned the day before. Something was up, if her plans had changed she would have let me know. I told myself to wait until three that afternoon before I did anything. Maybe something happened, or she was up until early this morning calling relatives and unplugged the phone afterwards so she wouldn’t be bothered.

Three o’clock came and went, with still no verbal or visual contact with Rebecca, so I started the standard search I used when looking for missing friends:
If I didn’t know them that well, I started at the hospital. If I knew them too well, I started at the jail and went from there. Rebecca didn’t strike me as someone who got themselves stuck in the slammer, so I began by calling the hospital.

“I’m sorry sir, due to privacy laws we can’t give out that information unless they give us permission.”
Great, red tape, gotta love it.
“What if she’s unconscious?”
“Then we notify the family.”
Wow, this was going to go nowhere.
“Look, her dad died in your emergency room two nights ago. I’m sure you have his name there, or I can give it too you. He was her last remaining family, look-”
“I’m sorry sir, we cannot give out that information to you, goodbye.”
I made a mental note to make whoever the receptionist was see that hospital from an entirely different perspective.

Ten minutes later my phone rang again. It was the hospital.

“Steven Prehn?”
“That would be me.”
“Do you know a Rebecca Huston?”
“I just tried calling about her! Yes I know her!”
“I’m Doctor Melekish. She’s been in an accident, a- a semi rolled on top of her vehicle. She’s unconscious, but keeps saying your name and something else. Would you please come over here?”
I already had my socks on.

* * * *

When I got there she had stopped calling out. She was no longer in immediate danger of dying and had been moved to a different floor. She was pretty beat up, her bandages making her look slightly mummy-ish, but looked to be sleeping peacefully. I was startled to find her still wearing the collar. The doctor came in behind me.
“Your Mr. Prehn?”
“Yes sir, that would be me.”

“Mr. Prehn, we found your name and phone number among her belongings,” He held up the piece of paper I had given her, my scribbling covered in dried blood, “your the only contact she has listed anywhere that’s still alive. I’d rather not turn her over to the state’s discretion, so I’m giving you the unofficial authority.”
He put the paper away and turned his attention back to the bandaged figure on the bed.
“I don’t know about this one. She might make it, she might not. It was a struggle last night, but she seems to have improved a lot sense then. I don’t know about that thing around her neck either. The paramedics took it off in the ambulance as it’s procedure, but she had a note in her bag saying if something happened to her not to take it off.”

He shrugged, “weird, but I’v seen worse. Funny how she stopped calling out and relaxed after we put it back on her.”

He gave me a look that said he wanted an answer. One I was just as lost to myself.

“I dunno, she’s worn that thing at least ever sense I’v known her, and probably longer. I can never really get a straight answer from her as to why though.”

He scratched his chin with the corner of his clipboard. There were a few moments of silence where we just stood there uncomfortably.

“Well, I’ll be back in a few minutes. Got some things to take care of. Feel free to just hang out in here.”
With that he walked back out of the room and shut the door, the only think to break the silence the beeping of support machines and her slow breathing. An IV giving her fluids was in her right arm, so I walked to the other side of her bed, kneeling to whisper in her ear.
“Rebecca, listen... You have to pull through. It sounds selfish, and it probably is, but if you don’t do it for yourself, do it for me. You've been most of my weekends, and a really good friend. I have to say, after sharing pieces of each-other I really-” I
I meant to say “like” but it didn’t quiet fit. There was another feeling, one I hadn’t felt before. It wasn’t the lustful “love” that had shown it’s quick fading head times before in my life, this was different. It was closer to the feeling one gets for their parents or siblings after they move out- you want the best for them and hate to see anything bad come their way. Almost like how I had felt for our dog; I truly cared what happened to her, and it didn’t matter what she did. I might get upset that she had stolen a whole loaf of bread dough off the table, or that she pee-ed on the floor, but that didn’t change me wanting to calm her fears when thunder rolled and she panicky tried to shove herself in a hole she couldn’t fit to escape, or check her paws the moment she favored one.

Bark could have rolled over then, punched me in the face and said she hated my very kneecaps and that wouldn’t have changed a thing.

“-I -I really love you Bark. When you went to be alone yesterday morning I heard a wolf, howling in sorrow. It was almost as if it was crying, and it made me cry too. Don’t make me join that wolf on the hill Rebecca.”

And as turned to go I could have sworn she had a hint of a smile, and I could picture her saying,
“I’m not done yet.”

* * * *

I stopped by every night after work that week, and by Wensday she was awake and alert.

“Hey,” she said as I walked in, “they tell me. You’ve been coming in here every evening. When they told me that I had to try and fall back asleep so I wouldn’t miss you tonight. They tell me I might be able to get out of here in a week if I keep up at the rate I’m going.”

“That’s good,” I said.

“Your telling me,” she interrupted, “I hate hospitals. What’s new, did I miss anything over the past few days?”

“Nope,” I replied, “World keeps turning. I’m glad your doing better. You had me worried.”

“Phaw, I’ll be fine,” she grinned, “Or I’d better be. I still want to go camping, and we have to finish Winona. You didn’t do anything to her did you?”

“Haven't had the time. I’v been coming here.”

“Goofball, stop worrying, I’ll be out before you know it. You don’t need me there to get the plumbing or wiring anyway. Oh shoot, that reminds me. You haven't seem what Jenny looks like have you?”

I nodded, “ Like a crushed soda can.”

“Ouch, looks like I’ll be renting for a while.”

“You can use Winona.”

“No, I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Nah, take her. I don’t need it to get to work, you do. We see each other every other weekend at least, so It doesn’t matter that much. I’ll teach you how to drive her when you get out.”

I left the hospital about an hour and a half later. She had fallen back asleep eventually, and I went back to the base not too long after that. I stopped by Thursday, and Friday evening she threatened to laps into a coma and die if I didn’t get out and do something with my weekend. I didn’t really have a life, so I bought the pipes and a spool of wire and laid out the plumbing and half the electrical in Winona. That Wensday she was release, and I got off work early to pick her up.
After she got the hang of steering Winona’s enormous form around corners and the touchy tendencies of air brakes she dropped me off at the barracks.

“Now to see what it’ll really do!” she smirked out the window.

The engine snarled and tired shrieked as Winona rocketed across the parking lot faster than I thought the old bus was capable of.

I waved, the smell of burning rubber scorching my nostrils. At least if she wreaked that one it would be hard for her to get more than a few bruises.