David Policar 1994
Once there was a man who was raised by wolves.
Well, that's not quite right. He was raised by other men, first. But he was raised by wolves, too.
This was the way of it: when the man, whose name among men is unimportant, was still quite young (for a man), his family went on a long journey without him, travelling across the world in a great vehicle that travelled very fast and went very far. But something went wrong, and they were lost, and the young man was alone.
Months passed, and the man was frantic with fear and hope for his family. "Where have they gotten to?" he wondered. The other men said his family had died, and tried to console him, but he knew that wasn't the truth. He knew they were simply lost, and would one day return to him.
More months passed, and the young man made a decision. "I will search for my family," he said. The other men laughed at first, but he did not hear them and went on with his preparations. Later, when they saw he was truly prepared to leave, they became concerned and frightened for him, for the world was a dangerous place for a young man on his own. But he did not hear their fears any more than their laughter. "I will find them", he said, and went off.
He sought his family in all the dark and hidden places of the world, where men did not go, or if they went, did not return to tell of their going. And in every dark corner and hidden place, he called out for his family. But they were not there.
The man made friends, and had adventures, for the world was a strange and dangerous place, and many vast and grand things happened to those who wandered abroad in it. One winter, as he waited in a small village in the high, remote mountains for the snows to finish falling and the roads to clear, he taught the children of that mountain village to read and to write, and they were joyful, for no others had taught them this thing, and they thought it a great magic. One spring, when he had lost his way through the praries, he met a boy and girl drying off by the bank of a river, and they invited him to swim with them. He swam, and drank from the sweet waters, and laughed -- a rare thing, for this no-longer-quite-so-young man, who had little to laugh about -- and sat by a tree and dried off in the sun. They showed him the path and he went on. One summer he lived alone in the jungle, picking fruits from the vines and digging roots out of the earth. Every once in a great while, he would go into a town for things he wanted, or needed, or sometimes for no reason at all, but as the summer dragged on he did this less and less, for the townspeople told stories of him, calling him witch and warrior and savior and villain, blaming and praising him for this and that, until at long last he became a legend, and they never saw him again.
In the fall, he wandered throgh the forests, seeking after his family, whom he knew to be alive and lost somewhere in the hidden places of the world. But wherever he went his legend had been, and the folk told, or listened, or sang, or read or wrote it (for by this time the magic of reading and writing had spread throughout many of the dark and hidden places), and neither saw him nor spoke to him. And in this way he passed from village to village, like a shadow, or a ghost, watching the leaves grow gold and red and fiery orange and fall from the trees.
One day, when all the trees were bare and the first frosts had begun to appear on the morning grass, a young wolf crossed his path. "Where are you headed, Man?" asked the wolf. The man was startled, for it had been a long time since any had spoken to him, and it was a singular thing indeed to be so addressed by a wolf. "I am seeking my family, Wolf, for they have been lost to the hidden places of the world, and I wish to be with them again."
The wolf thought long and hard about this, for the ways of men were strange to him, but he understood what it was to have a family and felt sorry for this man, who had lost his. At last he said "I am sorry, Man. I do not know where your family is, for we have few Men in our forest. But if you wish, you may stay with us through the winter. We do not live as Men live, but it is a good life, and there is plenty to eat and plenty to share, and much joy in the getting and the sharing." The man, who had spent too long without company, agreed, and followed the wolf brought back to his den, where his wife scowled and growled and gave him welcome, and the young cubs played with him, and their aunts and uncles made a space for him in the hunt and taught him the way of the wolves, and cared for him as they would the cubs.
Through the winter he hunted and fed and burrowed and ran and sang with his new friends, and when the spring came and the snows melted, he stayed with them, for he had been raised as a wolf, and had forgotten that he was once a man. And so things were for many seasons.