“I don’t understand.”
“Don’t you see, Uncle Henry?” I blurted, smiling. “He knows.”
“Knows?”
“He knows he’s one of us.”
Henry stopped looking at me like I was touched in the head. He saw at once what I was saying. He smiled and nodded and carried me back into the front room, where we restoked the fire, and where Mr. C—persuaded by the deepening snow and a plate of Maud’s tuna casserole—soon rejoined us. And I told them the story of the boy who listened at closet doors. The boy who’d lived by his own uncommon lights. The boy who loved wild things. Stories I suspected they already knew.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
This story first strayed into my life on four white pink-padded paws.
A big, wild, mustachioed black-and-white cat lumbered into my yard and heart more than two decades ago and became my shadow and soul mate for ten extraordinary years. He and I were pals like Lassie and Timmy or Rascal and Sterling North. Our years together included a genuine miracle, and maybe I’ll get to write that story one day. Until then, I hope this book begins to thank Mr. C’mere for all he gave me.
My sculptor-husband, Mike Roig, was my muse, reader, goad, fierce defender, and boon companion during this book’s journey. I thank him for making me persevere and stand up for my story with Zoë’s ferocity and toughness, and for filling the house with love and flowers on discouraging days.
I thank other first readers Luli Gray, Peter Guzzardi, Jane Harwell, Vicki Smith, and Frances Wood, and copy editor Katarina Rice.
My final thanks go to my editor, Joy Neaves, who shepherded, nurtured, and encouraged this book for nearly five years. Joy, Helen Robinson, and Nancy Hogan, thank you for the work and heart you put into making Wild Things beautiful and possible.
—Clay Carmichael
QUESTIONS FOR MORE THOUGHT ABOUT THE STORY
Some readers tell me they wish to think, talk, and/or journal more deeply about the characters and subjects in Wild Things. I offer the questions below as a starting point. Some are from readers, teachers, or librarians; others are questions I’ve wondered on or continue to wonder about myself. Feel free to add and wonder on questions of your own. —Clay Carmichael
Why do you think the book is called Wild Things?
What does wildness mean to each of the characters in the book? To you? Is wildness a good thing, and if so, in what ways? Can wildness be dangerous, harmful, or lonely? Is tameness better? Why or why not? Can too much tameness hurt people and animals too?
What role does anger have in the book? We usually think of anger as a negative emotion. Do Zoë’s anger and fierceness help her in some ways? Is fierceness sometimes necessary? When? Does anger hurt Zoë and Henry in some ways? How? How have anger or fierceness hurt or helped you? Have you ever had to stand up for something you believed in? What happened?
Zoë and the wild cat have lived hard lives. They find it hard to trust, because no one so far has earned their trust. Is learning to trust important for them? Is trusting important or necessary to you? Has a wild or stray animal ever learned to trust you or someone you know?
When do you think Zoë starts to trust Henry? Why does she decide to trust him at that moment? Does her new trust affect anything that happens afterwards? Have you ever trusted someone who then betrayed you? Have you ever distrusted someone and later changed your mind?
At one point, Zoë thinks, “The minute you talked about something, you risked losing it” (p. 113). What does this statement mean to you?
Helen, Henry’s artist-friend from New York, says her spirit would die if she couldn’t paint (p. 145). What in your life is so important to you that your spirit would die if you couldn’t do it? Is there something you feel you were born to do? What is it that you’re most passionate about?
Henry stands between the hunter and the white deer to protect Zoë (pp. 155–156). Who in your life would you choose to stand up for in the face of danger? Why did you choose this individual?
On Thanksgiving, Bessie convinces the group gathered at Henry’s house to take in Harlan. Do you think she was right to do this? Have you ever had to persuade a person or group to do a good deed for someone else? What happened?
Does Zoë see Harlan the same way at the end of the story as she saw him at the beginning? Have you ever given anyone a second chance? Has anyone ever given you a second chance?
Henry and Zoë both had mothers with similar problems. How else are Henry and Zoë alike? How are they different? If you had to say where they might be and what they might be doing four or five years after the story ends, where do you think they’d be living and what would they be doing?
In Chapter 16, Zoë and Henry make a sculpture together using Zoë’s mother’s old things. Zoë calls it “a one-of-a-kind, one-hundred-percent-guaranteed combination universal craziness deflector luck magnet and wild thing,” to which Henry adds, “Otherwise known as a work of art” (p. 197). How does art help the characters in the book, especially Henry and Zoë? Do you think art helped Henry when he was Zoë’s age? Do you think Zoë might become a writer or an artist like Henry?
What do you think happens to Wil after the story ends? Do you think he’ll ever see Zoë and Henry again? If no, why not? If yes, how do you think this will happen? What might they say to each other?
What about Hargrove? At the end of the book he shows an obvious interest in Henry’s sculpture. Do you think he might become an artist one day? Why or why not? Why do you think he starts off
