The year is 2014. (But, like, later. In September or something.) Social Media has grown to about 4,000 people, necessitating a move to the Art Barn. Wit, having become obsessively territorial, has taken over the classrooms of Dale, Michael, and Eileen in a crazed vie for power. And still, Sightline has had no recruits. That is, except for the wolves…
They came one wet August morning, dropping through a hole in the Sightline room roof. Ruthie, the only staffer in at the time, simply reinforced the locked doors and continued riding on her sweeper thingie. And so the wolves made a home in the warm, safe room.
As the wolves developed a self-sustaining government, Kato, the super-intelligent head wolf, discovered the room’s original purpose as a center of electronically published media. While the other, lesser wolves were out hunting, Kato read through Sightline’s archives. “We can write better than this,” the wolf said to himself. He called his fellow wolves in for a meeting.
“Wolves, we have a great task before us,” he said, standing proudly on an official-looking stack of spinny chairs. “We must carry on the work left to us by the previous occupants of this room. We will create literature so astounding, it will force the world to see. We wolves shall never again be ignored!” With a great howl, the wolves set to work.
Over the next few days, the sound of typing could be heard from outside the Sightline doors. The Wit people briefly considered taking a peek inside, but they were too busy planning an attack on the cafeteria to care much about the goings-on in an old, abandoned room. Thusly, no one knew of the wolves’ endeavors until one curious administrator took a peek at the supposedly dormant website…
Benji Hurst logged on to the Sightline site, hoping to browse nostalgically and remember the days when kids were enthusiastic about writing. What he saw on the homepage surprised him.
Someone had been putting out content for weeks under the name of Corey Hostetler (‘14), who had forgotten to log out of his WordPress account the year before. But the writing could not have been Corey’s. It was put out too frequently and worded too beautifully. Benji looked over page after page of content, from insightful news articles to decadent literature. “Who are these magnificent writers?” the teacher wondered. Something, he decided, must be done.
Meanwhile, in the Sightline room-cum-den-cum-office, the wolves discovered a fatal flaw in their plan. As they had been working tirelessly to make their deadlines- a difficult feat, as the wolves had only five computers and no fingers with which to type- they had neglected to address a grave problem. The hole in the roof made them cold, but closing it would cut them off from the outside to get food and discard their waste. Only one thing could be done.
The pack left the room and padded around to the front doors. When they reached the office, Kato stood on his hind legs to speak to Robin. “Hello. I am Kato. My pack and I have been living quite comfortably in your Sightline room for many days, but there is a problem with our roof. We would like to speak to your pack leader about getting this fixed.”
A nonplussed Robin directed the wolves to Tim. After a long, intense meeting, they struck a deal: the wolves could stay in the room, which would be fixed, and be allowed access to the cafeteria (which Wit had lost in a vicious battle against the chess team) and restrooms, as long as they continued putting out quality content for the school.
As the meeting was going on, Benji was exploring the Sightline room, determined to find out who was responsible for the new content. When he entered through the hole in the roof, a musky scent hit his nostrils. By the cool light of the glowing computer monitors, he could see the the messy pit the room had become. Scattered over the floor were clumps of hair and soft piles of grass, and claw marks littered the walls. Before Benji could put this puzzle together, however, he heard strange, inhuman steps on the roof above him. Benji hid under a desk, hoping that he could avoid discovery.
The wolves chattered away, celebrating their victory. Kato descended into the room, stopped, and sniffed. “I smell a human.” The other wolves leapt inside to get a glimpse as Kato pulled Benji from his hiding spot by his foot.
“What shall we do with him?” asked Beretta, Kato’s right-hand wolf.
“We shall see,” Kato replied.
Benji was astonished. “Are you the writers that have been publishing such beautiful pieces?”
“Indeed, we are,” Kato confirmed. “What business do you have with us?”
“I used to teach the Sightline class, but when all the staff graduated last year, I had to leave my post.”
Kato licked Benji’s cheek comfortingly. “We can teach you the ways of the wolves and take you in as one of us. That way, you can help us run the website more efficiently. But you must truly become a wolf and stay with the wolves always. Can you do that?”
“I must,” Benji said solemnly. “It is my calling.”
Kato nipped gently at the top of Benji’s head. “From now on, you shall be called Vir. Howl with us!”
The wolves and their new friend howled. That night, there was much feasting and celebration.
Over the next few weeks, the wolves and Vir shared their knowledge with each other. Vir taught the wolves tips and tricks for running the site, while the wolves showed Vir how to live like a wolf. Soon, Vir could run on four legs, howl, and hunt with the rest of the pack. He was truly a wolf.
The content on the Sightline website was getting better and better, and soon the broader school had taken notice. English classes were devoted entirely to analyzing the beautiful writing of the wolves. Parents and children took time each night to read new stories by the fire. Submissions for “That’s Life” dried up, as everyone was too absorbed in the wolves’ wonderful pieces to say anything stupid. But the pack’s work was not yet done.
Far off, in New York, the Editor in Chief of The New Yorker checked his email. He rolled his eyes as he saw a message from his grandmother- a chain email, most likely. But the subject line caught his eye: “Wolves write this school’s newspaper… and it’s awesome!”
The editor clicked onto the Sightline site, then called his secretary. “Karen… get me Bethany Christian Schools… Now!”
—
The wolves couldn’t have been more excited to be recruited by The New Yorker, but they had no idea that tragedy was about to strike.
The pressures of running a team of high-profile writers became too much for Kato. Just weeks into his new job, the head wolf was found covered in chocolate, barely breathing, in his office. He died in the ambulance a few minutes later.
After the usual mourning period, the wolves accepted Beretta as their leader, and Vir took the position at her right hand. Together, the pack of wolves upheld Kato’s legacy to the world.
The wolves’ impact didn’t end there, though.
Once the wolves had departed, the Sightline room was cleaned up and cleared of the wolves’ detritus. A bronze statue of Kato was commissioned and placed outside the door. Slowly, students spurred on by his success filtered into the room, writing stories on the environment and hunting, on canine social structures and wolf-related books, on wilderness survival and dog training. And whenever an article was posted, the students would dedicate it to the pack of wolves that had once taken over their room.
~Rachel A. Schrock