Chapter 4 A new Wolf in town

"Mama! Look here, mama!"

"What honey?" Tulla Nirvelli turned around on the small outlook where she stood waiting for their first guest of the spring season. The wooden dock was old, and the paint was chipped off in most places, but it was sturdy just the same.

Her eyes found the small blonde whirlwind that was her seven-year-old son and she felt that familiar pang in her chest. She pushed all bad thoughts out of her mind as she listened to his excited chatter. Danny loved guest day! That's what he called it when the small Bed & Breakfast she owned and operated got new arrivals.

Her Daniel was always getting into something. Right then, he was perched on top of the rickety wooden railing, staring out at the big blue sea. His left hand still had the slightest impression of a dimple from his chubby little toddler days. Was that really so long ago?

"Mama, I think my dog is coming today!"

"No, love, no dogs today. Just a new guest!"

He giggled and spun in a circle shouting about his dog! He'd had a dream about some dog saving his life or some such, she couldn't keep up. He was into so many fantasy themed games and online activities it was difficult to determine which one had a dog in it this week. Oh, my sweet Danny.

Any day now, he'd be a man. And that was something Tulla was simply not ready for. Her baby was special, and not just to her. Eight years, Tulla thought to herself. Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest. The cold, abiding fear was ever present in her heart. Ever since she had found out just who, or rather what, her late husband was and what he had promised to those who were used to having their way. The knowledge plagued her every day since he died.

The man said they'd come back in eight years to see if the child, her child, was their anointed one. Time was almost up. She shivered as she recalled the man's low, eerie voice over the phone.

It was rainy and dark that night, just a few hours after the police had knocked on her door to tell her the unimaginable. Her husband of under a year had died in a boating accident. She was alone in the world with her newborn son and terrified of her uncertain future. Little did she know there was so much more to fear.

The phone rang as she sat at the counter with her hand on her still swollen belly. She had just come home from the hospital with her newborn son to discover Tom was gone. She'd called for him during the two days she was in labor and the two days she spent in recovery.

He never answered, never came to see her or his boy. That was when she alerted the police. After they investigated, they informed her that Tom had been killed in what appeared to be an accident.

"It was no accident, Mrs. Nirvelli, I killed your husband and now it is you who bears the weight of his promise. I will come to visit the child in his eighth year."

"No. who are you?"

"Who I am is of no consequence. If the boy is the chosen one, he will return with me to be trained. Consider yourself lucky, Mrs. Nirvelli."

"Lucky? You want to steal my baby, how am I lucky?" She asked him, the true horror of his words not penetrating the fog that clouded her brain. Tom was dead, a stranger wanted her son, and she was lucky? How could this be happening to her?

"You're still alive. The child needs his mother right now, otherwise I would have sent you to meet your husband already. Enjoy the next few years while you can, Mrs. Nirvelli. We will be watching you."

After the call, Tulla packed up her few material belongings. She let the landlord keep the security deposit on the house she and Tom rented, and she left. With the mainland town she had lived with her husband, Tom Nirvelli, for a little under nine months in her rearview mirror, she and Danny headed to Daufuskie Island. To the small cottage her great-aunt owned on Bloody Point.

She was grateful for the warm welcome Great-Aunt Mildred had given her. They lived together for two years until the old woman had suffered a stroke. She could no longer handle the rough sea winds of the small island and she went to live in a senior center in Charleston to Tulla's great dismay.

It was better for the old woman, Tulla knew that deep in her heart. Still, she was the only family Tulla had left except for Daniel. Aunt Mildred was a kind and sweet soul. She was cared for by the friendly staff and nurses at the senior center. Tulla made sure of that.

Tulla loved Aunt Mildred for her warm spirit and boundless hospitality. She opened her heart and her home to a grandniece she had very seldom seen. Oh, and how she had welcomed them! She doted on Daniel and became a surrogate grandmother to them both.

Six months after her stroke, Mildred died. She left Tulla, her only living relative, her tiny cottage. By then Tulla had already started taking in weekenders to the island. After a few months and some modest renovations with the small inheritance she received, she turned the place into a cozy B&B. Nothing could replace the old woman in Tulla's memories, and she planted little annual flowers outside to remind her of Aunt Mildred every spring. She loved flowers.

The Sea Mist Bed & Breakfast sat right on the corner of the island's south side, on a stretch of sandy beach that was almost completely isolated except for a few widespread neighbors. The waters were rougher on that side of the island with the south wind constantly blowing, but larger developers have already come around sniffing for cheap land to build larger resorts for their golfers and vacationers.

Tulla had no wish to sell. Not when she felt safe on an island with only a couple of hundred permanent residents year-round. She had come to appreciate Bloody Point's beauty despite its gory name. The moss-covered oaks and oceanic birds that nested on the shores, the alligators that you could sometimes spy sunbathing in the summertime, the clam bakes and friendly faces made it a lovely place to live.

She made decent money with her B&B. She had four, single-bed, guest rooms. Two had spectacular views of the ocean, the other two faced a row of oak trees that were equally pleasing to the eye. Outdoor attractions at her B&B included a pair of beachside hammocks hung together under a group of transplanted palm trees, a wood deck off the kitchen that sported a huge outdoor table with an umbrella surrounded by oversized chairs with cheerfully colored cushions and pillows, and a large outdoor fire-pit. She had a small rowboat for those who enjoyed fishing when the weather allowed and a handful of cushioned lounge chairs lining the beach.

She was a good hostess. Her natural warmth and honest face inspired people to loosen up around her. Business was good and steady, and she prided herself on keeping her guests happy. A novice chef, Tulla provided her guests with three home-cooked meals prepared daily and served promptly at eight, one, and six. A constant supply of fresh cookies and sweet tea were available in the kitchen for anyone in need of snacks along with healthier options like sliced fruit and yogurt.

Danny loved the island though he asked to go on trips to the mainland. There was a small school on the island where Danny attended classes. Their private rooms were set apart from the guest quarters. In fact, she had renovated the garage into a mini apartment for them. They each had their own bedroom and a small play/living room area with a television, gaming system, loveseat, and small table with a computer she had gotten secondhand.

Danny loved computer games and was always fiddling on the used laptop she bought to keep track of their guests, their bank accounts, and their inventory. Danny was a smart boy. Inquisitive and a delight to his mother. The pair of them had carved out a nice little life for themselves on Bloody Point.