by Bev Prescott
Daniel looked through the eyeglasses hanging from a chain around his neck. “I spoke to them yesterday and gave my permission to be on the island. All they said they’d do was check on the eaglets.”
“Eagles are nesting on the island?” Alex asked. “Since when? That’s wonderful.”
“Sure is,” Sally said. “The pair showed up last year and built a nest. The wildlife people think they may have laid some eggs, but no one ever saw any eaglets afterward. Then the pair showed up again this year, and it looks like they have two babies. I think it’s the best thing that’s happened to this town in a long time. Our very own pair of nesting eagles.”
“With all due respect,” James said, “the rest of the story is that those wildlife people blame us for last year’s alleged failure even though they never bothered to investigate whether there were any eggs in the first place. It’s folklore. If they have their way, they’ll shut down the island without a shred of evidence that it’s even necessary to keep people off it. We’ve used it every year since the camp’s beginning. Our alumni—who donate a lot of money—won’t be happy if they aren’t able to camp and picnic on the island like they always have.”
“You mean to tell me that donations are more important than these eagles coming back to the area?” Sally glared at him.
“Of course not, but those tree-hugging types can be completely unreasonable. That’s why I have to make sure I stay involved to act as the voice of reason for this camp. I really wish you had done as I asked, Daniel, and not given them permission without talking to me first. As manager, it’s important that I be involved in all decisions about the camp.” He squeezed Daniel’s shoulder. “It’s necessary for us to succeed. I’m doing this for you.”
Daniel seemed confused. The look on his face suggested that he struggled to find a recollection of the conversation with James. “I’m sorry.”
Alex looked from her father to James and back again. How could her father let James talk to him like that? “This is still your camp, Dad. Whether you remember the discussion or not, you can give permission to whomever you like.”
The confusion on his face turned resolute. “James has done a tremendous amount for me when no one else has, especially my own daughter. I trust his decisions, and I should’ve remembered.”
“I’m going out to the island to have a word with them,” James said. “Daniel, would you like to come with me?”
“No, I’d prefer it if my daughter pulled some weight around here for a change. She’ll go with you.” Daniel addressed Alex. “Please, go with James and take his lead as to whatever he thinks is best.”
Alex held her tongue. Her options were limited. She didn’t know how to insist that her father treat her with respect. Besides, standing up for herself would be much easier said than done.
She couldn’t possibly undo, in an instant, thirty years of his way of dealing with her. His treatment of her was like a wave that she got caught up in and couldn’t swim out of. Her logical brain was smothered under the weight of too much unresolved heartbreak. If she argued with him, he’d dismantle her as if she were still a child. The worst part would be having James and everyone else front and center for the show. Intellectually, she knew her father had no right to demand that she do anything. But the broken child inside of her spoke louder than rational thinking. She chose the path of least resistance. “Fine.
Chapter 3
Zoe Kimball placed her palms on the rough bark of the lofty white pine and gazed up into its green branches. She wished she didn’t have to wear climbing gloves so she could feel the trunk against the skin of her hands. She still couldn’t believe she got paid to climb trees. She zipped her Maine Department of Wildlife and Fisheries canvas jacket all the way up to her throat to keep out the morning chill she suspected she might encounter when she got to the top of the seventy-foot-tall tree.
“How old do you think the eaglets are?” Her colleague, Rob Loren, asked when he passed her a handheld radio.
Zoe slipped the radio into a pouch clipped to her climbing belt. “The neighbor who’s been watching the eagles estimated that the first egg was probably laid on Easter because that’s when the mother stopped leaving the nest. She’s stayed put ever since except for the short times her mate swapped places with her. So they should be about three weeks old.”
“A perfect age for banding.”
“Yep, they’re big enough for their legs to hold the bands but still small enough for me to handle.” Zoe took a step back and gazed up at the single arborist’s climbing rope looped over a large branch about three quarters of the way up the tree. One bottom end of the rope was connected to the other part in a series of three specialized knots rigged to allow her to ascend and descend the rope in a controlled fashion.
She clipped the carabiner on her harness to the loop formed by the first knot and locked it in place. The second was a rescue knot for safety purposes, and the third was a climbing knot, also known as a Blake’s Hitch. She could slide the climbing knot up and down the length of the rope with her hands as necessary to control her pace—up to ascend and down to descend. If she took her hand off of the knot, it would hold her in place along the length of the rope.
She leaned her weight on the harness to test the strength of the branch she had chosen for her climb. “That ought to work.” She bounced a couple of times for good measure to make sure it wouldn’t break.
“I really like the new slingshot you brought along,” she said to Rob. “That’s the highest branch we’ve ever been able to tie off on from the ground. Nice work.”
“Yeah, I’m happy with it. It’s the Big Shot Line Launcher from WesPur Climbing Equipment. You can see why it got such great reviews. It sure saved us a lot of time. You’ll still have to use your throw bag at the top of the tree, though.” Rob finished packing the slingshot back into its case. “I’m surprised Bastone didn’t insist on being here this morning. The last time we talked to him, he was adamant about being out here when we weighed and banded the eaglets.”
Zoe couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. “He doesn’t exactly know we’re here.”
“Seriously? You do this all the time, and someday, it’s going to catch up to you.” Rob gestured at the shore. The island where they stood was covered in fog. “You’d better hope this soup holds long enough for us to do what we have to and get out of here before he catches us. For someone who loves her job, you sure like to take risks that could jeopardize it.”
“Don’t worry, I went over his head and spoke with Mr. Marcotte, the owner. He gave me permission.” Zoe attached the steel foot ascender to her right boot and climbing rope. “Besides, technically, we don’t need permission.”
“Yes, but we’re supposed to be good public servants and get it anyway. That’s the commissioner’s policy. Remember?”
Zoe put on a climbing helmet with face shield and neck guard and adjusted the straps. “You worry too much.”
“You don’t worry enough,” Rob said. “And you look a bit like Darth Vader with that thing on.”
“You’re a real laugh riot. As for Bastone, I can’t have him breathing down my neck while I’m trying to climb a tree.” She made a disgusted face. “He oozes schmooze. I’m afraid I’d slip right out of this tree if he were hanging around. You wouldn’t want me to fall and get hurt, would you?”
Rob rolled his eyes. “You could climb this tree blindfolded with one arm tied behind your back while angry mom and dad eagles buzzed you with their talons and beaks. I doubt seriously that James Bastone would somehow hinder you.”
Zoe lifted her right foot off of the ground and clipped the rope into the slot of the foot ascender attached to her boot. “Maybe not, but I don’t like him.” She put her weight on her right foot and used her arms to pull herself up the rope. Her right hand slid the climbing knot higher as she went. Her body moved easily, and she repeated the process until she was about eight feet up. She reached down and grabbed the rope hanging below her and t
ied a slipknot loop into it. The loop was for safety in the event that her climbing knot failed to slow her descent. The safety knot would prevent her from slipping off the bottom of the rope.
“There are a lot of people you don’t like, Zoe,” Rob said. “You still have to deal with them.”
She pulled herself higher. “Not when I’m in the trees.”
After several efficient pulls on the climbing rope, she reached the underside of the branch that her rope was looped over and leaned her weight into the harness to rest. She yelled down to Rob, “I’m ready to tie the rope off onto the next highest branch I can reach. I should be able to do it on one of the branches just below the nest.” She removed her climbing gloves and slipped them into the pocket of her jacket.
She reached into a pouch on her climbing belt and took out her throw bag. On her second attempt, the small, heavy bag, which was attached to a thin line of tightly threaded rope that fed from the pouch, looped perfectly over the target branch about twenty-five feet above her head and came back down to her. She pulled up the end of the climbing rope hanging below her—the part she had just ascended—tied it to the thin line of the throw bag, and pulled until it went up and over the higher branch and returned to her.
She unfastened the throw bag line and stowed it back in the pouch. With the rope now looped over the branch above her, she tied the same series of knots in it as she had from the ground and clipped her carabiner to the second loop. She made a new slipknot for safety and tested the branch’s strength before unclipping the first loop from her carabiner. After unclipping it, she was ready to climb higher.
“The rope’s good to go,” she reported. She retrieved her climbing gloves and put them back on. “I’m climbing again.”
“Be careful when you get toward the open part of the tree near the nest,” Rob yelled up. “The parents are getting more agitated the closer you get to it.”
Two enormous black and white raptors circled the tree, swooping in and screeching loudly when Zoe neared their babies. Being so close to them left her in no doubt as to their size. Their six-foot wingspans cast an ominous shadow when they passed over her head. She was thankful for the thick branches preventing the eagles from getting too close to her until she reached the nest in a more open part of the tree. Then she’d have to work fast and rely on the heavy canvas jacket and helmet to protect her from being sliced open by their razor sharp talons if they got brave enough to swoop on her.
Zoe spoke to them. “Aren’t you two menacing with all that huffing and puffing? If you leave me alone, I promise to work quickly to put your little ones back safe and sound after I send them down to Rob for a quick exam. Keep in mind, I’m a friend and you’re going to need me more than you know this summer.” When she reached the second branch just below the nest, she took the two-way radio out of her pouch and depressed the Talk button. “Is it as loud down there as it is up here?” She released the button.
“Yeah, you would think their world was coming down all around them,” Rob answered. “If all that squawking doesn’t get Bastone’s attention, I don’t know what will. The fog’s dissipating fast too. It’s almost gone. Stay toward the left of the nest if you can. The branches are thicker there. The parents won’t be able to reach you as easily.”
“Got it. I’ll let you know when I’m ready to send the first eaglet down.” Zoe replaced the radio into its pouch and navigated her way through the branches to the edge of the nest.
She had to climb a couple of feet above the safety of the branch she was anchored to. Being at the nest was the most dangerous point, and she loved the rush. Standing on the anchor branch, she peeked over the edge of the nest. Two gangly gray birds bobbled around in front of her. Their small down-covered bodies were wildly out of proportion to their almost full-grown beaks and talons.
“Hello, my little lovelies.”
The wide-eyed eaglets backed away from her to the other end of the four-foot-long nest. The larger of the two tripped over a duck bone in the process and squawked at her as if she had somehow caused the mishap.
“Don’t you two have faces only a mother could love?” Zoe crooned.
The smaller eaglet spread its long, skinny, awkward wings and flapped them defiantly.
“Hit a nerve, did I?”
The eaglet held its ground while its larger sibling moved farther away.
“I hate to tell you this, but you look more like pterodactyls than majestic raptors. Maybe I should call you Terry and Dac. Hmm?” Zoe tied a safety anchor to one of the thick branches and pulled herself up so she could slide her butt up onto the edge of the nest. The average eagle’s nest was about five to six feet in diameter and could weigh more than a ton. This nest looked to be about average size, giving her no concern over whether it would hold her weight.
The panicked parents screeched and circled overhead.
“Okay, Terry and Dac, let’s not dawdle up here. Mom and Dad aren’t too happy with me.” Zoe picked up a twig and used it to move the stinking remains of a fish and a goose aside. She also thought she recognized what probably used to be a groundhog. “That is one funky smell.”
She edged closer to the eaglets and sat still for several long moments, allowing them to adjust to her presence. If the helmet she wore hadn’t made her look so imposing, she figured she’d probably have more success.
She pulled out the radio to call Rob. “I’m on the nest and safely anchored in. I’ll send the first eaglet down shortly, probably the larger of the two. The little guy looks prepared to put up a fight.”
“That’s a surprise. I thought the smaller ones were easier to handle.”
“That’s usually the case, but sometimes it’s the tinier ones you’ve got to watch out for.”
“Sort of like Chihuahuas and you?” Rob asked. “Maybe that’s your issue.”
Sitting in the hefty nest with her legs outstretched in front of her reminded Zoe how short she was. Maybe her Maker hadn’t been feeling too generous with building supplies on the day she was made. Her barely five-foot-tall frame left her the smallest person in just about any crowd of adults.
“Funny, Rob,” Zoe said. She laid the radio down.
When she looked up, she took a moment to take in the scene. A scant layer of quickly fading fog still blanketed the lake below. A cloudless blue sky spread out above her. To the northwest, the snow-covered peak of Mount Washington rose well beyond all the other mountains around it. There was no place else she’d rather be. She might be the smallest person around, but when she was in the trees, she was at the top of the world.
She turned her attention to the two eaglets. “All right, little ones, time for you to meet Rob. He can be a bit snarky, but don’t worry, he’s harmless. He’s just going to give you a once-over.”
Zoe took off her climbing gloves and placed them into a second pouch clipped to her harness. She’d have to handle the eaglets gently so as not to harm their feathers or wings. Bare hands would go a long way toward being more careful, but it did mean that her skin and flesh would be exposed. Department rules required the use of gloves when handling eaglets, but she wasn’t much for rules. Particularly since she was more than capable of determining her own safety needs.
If the parents went after her, she assumed they’d strike her from behind and aim at her head. The helmet, face shield, and neck guard would take care of that scenario. The eaglets were still uncoordinated enough for her to avoid their talons and beaks for the most part. Not wearing gloves was worth avoiding the possibility that she’d harm one of them by accident. Besides, finding leather gloves small enough to fit her hands so that she still had dexterity was always a challenge.
Zoe picked up a bone that still had some meat on it and held it toward the eaglets. “Come on, little ones. It’s snack time.”
The larger eaglet appeared to take some interest. It took a couple of steps toward her. She remained still despite the angry parents swooping close to her. She hoped the eaglet would stay focused on food as o
pposed to its parents’ angst long enough for her to grab it.
When the eaglet leaned toward the duck bone, she dropped the scrap and placed both hands on either side of its body to hold its wings closed so it wouldn’t hurt itself. Just as quickly, she slipped the eaglet under her left arm and held its feet together with her left hand. “I think you’ll be Terry.”
Like a kitten held by the scruff, the eaglet didn’t struggle with its wings and feet trapped in her grasp. Using her free hand, she quickly retrieved a large canvas bag from the pouch on her harness and placed it over the eaglet. Then she zipped it shut, picked up the radio, and depressed the Talk button.
“Rob, get ready for the first eaglet. I’m sending it down now.” She put the radio down and carefully lowered the eaglet in the bag via a second rope secured to her climbing belt.
Rob’s voice came from the radio. “Got it. I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”
Zoe eased closer to the remaining eaglet. “Hello, little Dac.”
It spread its wings and peeped at her.
“Looks like the fog is clearing.” Zoe sat still in the bowl-shaped nest at the top of the tree with one of the greatest creatures on earth. She didn’t think there was anything more she could ever need in this world, definitely not people and all the drama they stirred up.
The sound of reveille coming from the camp on the main shore across from the island intruded on the morning quiet. “Don’t worry, Dac. I’ll make sure you have a voice in all that human cacophony down there.” She continued to sit quietly, taking in the absolute calm that came from being in the tops of trees with the wild ones.
The radio crackled to life several minutes later. “We’re done down here,” Rob said. “The eaglet is male and weighs a healthy two pounds.”
“Okay, I’ll pull it back up now.” Zoe hoisted Terry back into the nest and released the eaglet gently from the bag. It shook itself off and stormed away from her toward the other side of the nest. She quickly grabbed Dac more easily than she would’ve predicted. Perhaps their time in the nest together had given the eaglet a false sense of confidence, causing it to let its guard down.