The Wolf That Cried Hedgicorn

(Inspired by Sarah McBride, U.S. representative for Delaware's at-large congressional district. Dedicated to my daughter Mellow, to Huckleberrie, to Vivian Jenna Wilson and all of the transgender humans being targeted. The damage was done with grim stories. This tale will be their undoing.)

The wolves never forgot the glory days when huffing and puffing at a house made of straw or sticks resulted in a tasty dinner of whatever animal lived inside.

Wolves were stronger, with sharp teeth and claws. They believed that having power made them always right. They thought their way of life was right and everyone else was wrong.

They called everything else “Magical Thinking” and defined magic as anything they didn’t like, couldn’t control, or that made them feel uncomfortable.

There was comfort in not knowing all the details of how things worked. All that knowledge could confuse you, like the stargazers, the planet-worriers, and especially the teachers who reminded everyone that the good old days were history.

It didn’t help that too many of those who followed the teachers, stargazers, planet-worriers, and tellers of tales tended to lord it over the wolves if they were correct in their ideas.

Making anyone feel stupid and wrong for not agreeing or seeing your point often leads to disaster.

Spoiler Alert: It did.

Instead of working out their differences, they chose sides.

One side began to believe that education was a waste of time and money. Pups should be taught the basics of huff and puff and when to howl.

The other side tended to roll its eyes and look down their snouts at those who disagreed with them.

Both sides were over-confident.

Wolves were sure if they stamped out new ideas, all their problems would disappear.

Spoiler Alert: They didn’t.

Then came the fateful day when a little pig read a little book about building safer houses out of bricks. That little piggie became a teacher. Everything changed.

Wolves had to learn to like the taste of peanut butter sandwiches.

Angry and frustrated with what some called progress, and they called being tamed, wolves banned any book that looked like a pig (or anyone else) might learn something new and uncontrollable from it.

Because they associated bricks with being tamed, they banned bricks, too.

They lived in dens, listening only to the news the foxes brought back from their travels.

Meanwhile, too many Magical Thinkers spent more time thinking than doing. Because wolves could be gruff and scary, they avoided talking to them.

Feelings kept getting hurt. Little upsets grew into giant grudges that didn’t go away.

Here comes one now.

“Books. Bricks. Pigs,” snarled the old grey wolf as he sat in his den. “Books did this to us. Books full of bad ideas. Bricks that blunt our claws. Pigs that think they’re so smart with their new ideas. Always new. So much newness.”

He thought that if he were back in charge, there would only be one book, and he would sell it to become wealthy.

He padded out into the moonlight and barked at the Moon, “Books changed their thinking. They want to make us all into goody-good wolves. I was SOMEBODY. I loved being THE BIG Bad Wolf. Bring back the Bad Wolf!”

A voice barked back, “If you're afraid that books might change someone's thinking, you're not afraid of books; you're afraid of thinking. A human called A. Junker said that."

“Who?” Old Gray snapped. “Junker? That’s garbage talk. You made that up! Who are you? Show yourself!”

A howl of laughter echoed across the clearing and shook the wood. Out padded a surprisingly small, red wolf. “I’m Badwolf. You summoned me.”

He gave a mocking flourish and a deep bow.

The old wolf changed its voice to be smooth like the fox's, “Come closer, friend. Please tell me your real name. That’s just good manners.”

“They call me Badwolf,” said the voice. “I tell them there is no Good or Bad, only one big all-inclusive pack. Some say all wolves are the same; others say everyone must think exactly alike. I came to help everyone see that you’re all made of the same stuff; everyone feels fear, pain, sadness, and if given half a chance - COMPASSION.”

Old Gray didn’t hear anything past the word “wolf.”

“You’re a wolf. That means you’re on my side,” said Old Gray. “Wolves stick together to form a pack. That’s how we win. The bigger the pack, the more we win. So much winning.”

Suddenly, the clearing lit up with a rainbow of light. It cast a huge, terrible shadow of sharp points, making Old Gray yelp like a scared puppy. He ran back into his den but couldn’t escape the rainbow that sparkled all around him.

He curled into a ball, whimpering.

“Sorry!” said Badwolf. “Don’t be afraid. That’s just my friend Osgood. He’s a hedgicorn – hedgehog-unicorn. Very rare. Just one teeny-tiny percent of the entire animal population.”

The rainbow light hurt Old Gray’s eyes that had spent so much time in the dark.

“They do that light show when they have to wee off some magical buildup,” Badwolf explained. “My wee friend can go behind one of these trees here to let off a little extra magic. Just take a sec…”

From embarrassment often comes rage. Old Gray let out a low growl and bounded out of his den, showing his teeth.

“Magic! There’s no such thing as magic,” Old Gray snarled. “All trees belong to WOLVES ONLY. No hedgee-thingees allowed. And especially – NO WEEING!”

“Hedgicorn,” Said Osgood, who looked like a standard hedgehog with a little gold horn on its head. “Quite real. Sorry for scaring you with the light show. I tried to wee in the last forest, but the wolves there wouldn’t let me.”

Big smile.

Big silence.

Big problem.

Old Gray was outraged. “I was NEVER afraid of anything in my life! Everything else is afraid of Me and MINE!”

In truth, Old Gray was afraid of what he couldn’t control. A magical rainbow hedgee-whatsis that looked sharp and could turn night into day represented everything wrong with the world.

Life used to be so simple; once upon a time, a wolf was free to eat whoever it wanted, and everyone feared him – The Big Bad Wolf.

Now, he was just “Old Gray.”

He looked up at the Moon and got an idea. He smiled, showing all his teeth.

“I know what you’re thinking,” said Badwolf. “That’s a bad idea. I wouldn’t if I were you.”

In ancient times, wolves howled to the Man in the Moon to give them strength and power.

The Moon Man never came when called, but the sound of all the wolves suddenly joining their voices in a Howl was chilling.

The power was not a Man or the Moon. The power was FEAR.

Then, after the books, bricks, and pigs, too many wolves became dogs, pets, tame, and powerless.

He tilted his head back to look up at the dark sky. He had faith in the MOON. He let out a howl. HOWWOOOOOO! HOWWOOOOO!

For a moment, all was quiet. HOW-WOO??

He was about to give up and try something else when the ground shook. HOWWOOOOO! HOWWOOO! Came the thundering reply from all around.

Calls seemed to come from everywhere, even under their feet, where wolf packs had quietly dug out caves and tunnels for decades.

The tunnels ran under all the brick houses in the land, and the Howl now rang through every corner of the land.

The ground began to split. Whole cities collapsed into great pits that filled up with wolves. There would come a terrible feast!

It all happened so fast that it took many by surprise.

Wolves of every pack came up from every crack, shaking off the dirt, looking for a tasty meal.

Old Gray was more surprised than anyone to see so many rallied to him.

There were the purist white wolves, and then came the Northwestern, Great Plains, Eastern Timber, and even a few Mexican wolves, plus foxes and a few wily coyotes. Osgood was sad to see a few of a handful of fairies, elves, and all the trolls arrive to join the circling packs.

“Oh, Biggest of the BIG, what is the danger,” barked a lean white wolf named Sway. “What great and powerful thing has come to destroy us all? What massive foe threatens our kind?”

Badwolf grinned and pointed to the hedgicorn, “Ah, yes, that would be my wee friend here.”

Osgood gave a nervous grin. A few teeny rainbow sparkles leeked out.

Old Gray panicked. How could he say he had been scared by this little creature whose only weapon was a sparkly rainbow of light?

He had to think up something quickly. He knew that fear was a great motivator, and it led to the greatest weapon of all: HATE.

“Behold! The dangerous, pointy Hedgeee Korn,” he bellowed at the crowd. “They blind you with evil-colored light! Their wee destroys any tree it touches. Their wee scorches the earth! They have come for your cubs.”

Osgood and Badwolf looked at each other. “Well, thanks so much for being so welcoming and er, um, kind-ish,” said Osgood. “We must be going now. Places to be. Trees to wee.”

The clearing was filled with rainbow light. A door appeared on a nearby tree. The pair stepped through it, vanishing with a “Ping.”

All the wolves sat down in disappointment. Some started to leave early out of boredom.

A large fox whispered in Old Gray’s ear. The wolf nodded with a sly smile.

“The Man in the Moon spoke to me,” lied Old Gray, who suddenly felt big and powerful with fox by his side. “That UGLY creature, all the NASTY rainbows, all the STUPID books – so many books! And houses of brick – so many bricks – that can’t be blown down! That’s what’s to blame for everything YOU have suffered.”

Now, he had their full attention. He would travel across the land, spreading the message of who was to blame. He told each pack how he would drive away anything that wasn’t in their new Super Pack.

And so, he did. It was easy.

The Howl resonated with many good wolves and others who were hungry, tired, sad, angry, and worried that they didn’t matter in a world where things could happen by magic, rainbows, and sparkle instead of clawing your way to the top.

Hedgicorns and all magical thinkers were driven into hiding.

Where once there had been many books, ideas, and teachings, there was only one — The Howler’s Guide (Wolf Edition from Big Bad Press).

Time passed. The Big Bad Wolf sat high on his throne, hailed by The Pack as the greatest thing since the invention of Huff & Puff.

If there’s one thing that every book, from history to fairy tales, has to teach us, it's that thinking, magical or not, never goes away.

You can call a Big Bad Wolf a Granny all day long, but folks eventually figure that something with sharp teeth will bite you in the end.

When Old Gray was reinstated as the Big Bad, those who supported his rise began to measure his performance against their expectations.

If you think you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, try teaching a wolf.

He made all of the same mistakes all over again. His pack realized that his bark was far worse than his bite. Most of his teeth, like his ideas, were rotten.

He began to snap at everyone around him. Things started to crumble.

As the Pack descended into chaos and in-fighting, little doors appeared on trees throughout the land, letting in all sorts of new ideas.

The magical thinkers had learned a tough lesson. They realized that separating everyone into Good and Bad was not the best path forward.

They had also been blind to the wolves' sadness and the worries of the Super Pack. Slowly, disappointed wolves left the Super Pack.

Everyone began to share their worries, fears, hopes and needs together. They realized that they really weren’t too far apart on many issues – only their attitudes and judgments stood between them and better lives.

Finding himself surrounded by frustrated, angry, disappointed followers, Old Gray fled to his den to sit and wait for the Moon.

Finally, after a month, a new purple supermoon rose high in the clear night sky.

He threw his head back and let out a ringing HOWWOOOOOO!

“I heard you,” came a familiar voice from the edge of the clearing as Badwolf padded into the open.

“YOU!” spat the old wolf as he charged at the smaller red wolf, landing with claws, teeth, and rage, only to find his opponent had vanished.

“SIT!” came a booming voice from all around. It was the voice of a man but not a man. The sky was suddenly dark, and the man standing over him embodied the MOON.

The Man in the Moon stood over Old Gray and repeated in a softer voice, “Sit.”

Old Gray didn’t get to be the Big Bad twice by doing as he was told. “Listen, Loony Moony,” he sneered. “You’re a LOSER. There’s nothing you can do to change who I am.”

The Man in the Moon sighed, “That may be the first truth you’ve told in a very long time.”

“You have free will, so changing who you are is up to you,” he added. “Changing what you are is still up to me.”

He snapped his fingers. The Purple Supermoon was back in the sky.

“Ha!” Thought Old Gray. “That’s right, run away! I sure showed him.”

He felt heavier. His head was splitting with pain.

Suddenly, he was gripped by an urgent need to wee. As he reached the nearest tree, there was a spectacular burst of rainbow light followed by a small cry of outrage.

- END -

Epilogue

This story was written by the mother of an adult transgender daughter and Pride Mom to every trans person being targeted by the Wolves of 2024 and beyond. All rights reserved, Lisa Suhay 2024.