by Rae Knightly
Kimi had given Ben one of Wilson’s old wetsuits, while she wore one that Lori had left behind. She led Ben into a workshop at the back of the weatherbeaten house and uncovered a couple of old surfboards, which had clearly been used often, judging from their faded colour. They dusted off the cobwebs, then headed down a narrow path to Craggy Bay Beach – one of the few sandy beaches along the coast. It was bordered by thick shrubbery and spindly trees, twisted from years of ocean winds.
When they reached the end of the path and Ben stepped on the freezing grey sand, he looked up and gasped. The rising sun bathed the mist that clung to the beach in a ghostly yellow light, and as they walked further, the mist closed in on them, so only sand and waves were visible.
Then, black dots began to appear on the waves. Ben squinted, realizing he was looking at other surfers, and it dawned on him why this tiny place at the edge of the ocean was such a coveted tourist destination.
Surfing!
Ben’s heart soared.
It wasn’t just Kimi and him who were heading into the ice-cold water. The beaches around Tofino were known for their surfing, and on a worldwide level at that! The rugged coast and head-on Pacific weather meant huge waves hit the beaches. And this was not some small pastime for locals, far from it. Ben was looking at full-fledged, international-level surfing crowds.
Fortunately, Craggy Bay had one of the calmer beaches. It lay nestled in a half-circle that protected the beach from the biggest waves and allowed beginners to give the sports a try.
Kimi turned to look at him, and the same excitement reflected in her eyes. “Race you!” she shouted, sprinting away, the surf-board clinging under her arm.
“Hey!” Ben objected, bolting after her.
They reached the group of surfers, some of whom had been there since dawn, and squealed as their feet splashed into the freezing waters of the north. It wasn’t long, though, before their wetsuits came into action, protecting them with a layer of water that warmed up in contact with their skin.
For a moment, Ben allowed himself not to think about his troubles, to ignore the skill, and spend hour upon hour of fun trying to surfboard on his stomach close to shore.
The mist cleared, and the sun soared high until the two friends trudged out of the water and sprawled on the hot sand, gasping for breath.
They giggled with exhaustion, their surfboards thrust aside, their arms and legs outstretched on the sand. Several minutes passed, where Ben stared at seagulls and felt the sand warm his back. And before he could help himself, he said, “Thanks, Kimi.”
She kept her eyes closed as she soaked up the sun. “For what?”
He paused for a moment, then said, “For not asking any questions.”
She opened her eyes, then rolled on her side to face him. “It’s your mom. She said you’d been through a rough time and that it would really help if you could forget about everything for a while.”
Ben squinted at the sunlight, listening to her words.
“Is it working?” she asked.
Ben bit his bottom lip, thinking about his outburst back home, then nodded.
She considered him for a while, then sank on to her back again. “Good.”
They stared at the blue sky for a while, then Kimi ventured, “I’d still like to know about that crow invasion. And about Mesmo. And about those men who were after you. And about what happened to Tike…” Her hand brushed his shoulder. “But only when you’re ready.”
Ben couldn’t trust himself to talk, so he nodded without taking his eyes off a cloud.
Kimi dropped her hand back in the sand. “And there’s something else I’d like to know,” she added.
Ben frowned. “What’s that?”
She rolled onto her side, her sand-filled braid plastered against her wet suit. “Are you sure you’ve never surfed before?”
Ben grinned and shook his head. “No, never.”
Kimi nodded in approval. “Well, I’d never have guessed. You were pretty good out there for a first-timer.”
Ben felt a sneaky smile creep up the corner of his mouth. “Thanks,” he said. “You weren’t too bad yourself. Except when you fell headfirst in the water the first couple of times.”
“Hey! You fell, too!” she objected, throwing a handful of sand at him.
That set them off, running and dodging each other’s sand bullets with the surfboards under their arms until their growling stomachs forced them home. By the time they reached the path that led to the house, Ben felt like he was facing Mount Everest. He groaned with each footstep and slapped at mosquitoes on his neck. The wetsuit had suddenly become unbearable in the midday heat.
The house looked like a haven of freshness, and delicious smells came from the open kitchen window.
Wilson and Uncle Pete were hammering away next to the workshop, building something.
Uncle Pete took some nails out of his mouth. “Hey, there, son, when you’re done with lunch, we could do with an extra pair of hands.”
Ben stopped and swayed a little. “Er… sure, Uncle Pete.”
Wilson sent him a wink, while Kimi chortled into her hand.
Ben curled his nose at her.
“What?” she said. “Did you think you were on vacation or something?”
* * *
Ben worked all afternoon beside Wilson and Uncle Pete, who wanted to build a new workshop for his miniature boats because the old one had become too unstable.
While they worked, Uncle Pete explained how he came from a long line of Flemish sailors who originated from Bruges, located in the European country of Belgium. That was where his Flemish name Maesschalck came from.
“Eight centuries ago, Bruges was a bustling harbour. Its glory lasted for five hundred years, but when sand filled the mouth of the river, the town became inaccessible, and it fell into oblivion. Today, its untouched medieval streets and canals have turned it into a major European tourist destination,” Uncle Pete said, wiping his sweating forehead.
“During the Second World War, Bruges was occupied by German soldiers. My father was a Flemish shipbuilder who fought with the resistance. But when Canadian soldiers set the city free, my father was badly hurt in the cross-fire. A Canadian nurse took care of him. You can guess what happened next. They fell in love and fled war-torn Europe, pledging to live a quiet life back in Canada. That’s how they eventually ended up in Tofino, where I was born.” He stepped back to make sure he had placed his piece of lumber straight, then bent to pick up another one.
“Jen and I have often travelled to Bruges. She even learned Flemish with me! Its history fascinates us, with its old belfry, cobbled streets, lace weavers and antique bookstores. Did you know that the very first book in the English language was published there six hundred years ago?”
Wilson whispered behind his hand at Ben, “Hence the book-hoarding.”
Ben grinned, thinking of the book-laden shelves inside the house.
Uncle Pete pointed a finger at Ben. “So, you see? From a tiny place along the Northern Sea to a tiny place on the Pacific Coast… You never know what life will throw at you, Ben. You’ll understand what I mean when you’re older.”
Ben stopped hammering and stared at Uncle Pete.
They spent the evening chatting over a hearty dinner of chicon au gratin and fries. At first, Ben tried to figure out this traditional Belgian dish made from a weird-looking vegetable covered in a delicious cheesy sauce, but the truth was he could barely keep his eyes open.
Auntie Jen noticed and released him to bed.
He accepted gladly and crashed into bed on his stomach, the softness of the bedsheets feeling heavenly under his cheek.
His muscles hurt, his face was sunburnt, and he had hit a finger with a hammer. But he was happier than he had been in a long while.
And now he understood what his mother had meant when she had said he needed to take a break, have fun, and forget about the skill for a while.
“She was right,” he breathed into the pillow.
“What’s that?”
Ben opened an eye to find Wilson putting on his nightshirt.
“Oh, nothing,” Ben said with an effort. He was already drifting away.
Wilson sat on the edge of his bed and stared at Ben. “You did a good job today, helping my Pa out like that. You’re a good kid, you know.”
Ben opened an eye again, caught off guard by the compliment. “It’s nothing, really,” he mumbled, his words muffled by the cushion.
Wilson switched off the light, and glorious darkness filled the room.
“’Night, Ben-friend,” Wilson said through a yawn.
“’Night, Wil.”
* * *
The weeks passed in a similar fashion: surfing, putting together the workshop, strolling around Tofino with an ice cream cone in hand, hiking the rugged trails and going to the movies to watch Galaxy Hero.
Auntie Jen and Kimi practically pushed Wilson out of the house when the night of the Summer Dance came. They would not hear of him cancelling his date with the ice cream parlour girl. Ben watched as they fussed over him. He couldn’t understand why Kimi and her aunt spent a whole hour trying to figure out which trousers and shirt he should wear, making him change three times.
“You’re so weird,” Ben mouthed at Kimi.
She rolled her eyes at him, then thrust another shirt in Wilson’s hands.
Uncle Pete had washed the pickup truck inside and out, so it looked almost brand new. Wilson had no choice; he trudged heavily to the truck and roared away without uttering a single word.
No sooner had the truck disappeared behind the bend, when Uncle Pete barked, “Well, what are you waiting for? Everybody in the car, we’ve got a Summer Dance to attend.”
They packed into the four-seater and headed into town, where they spent a festive evening strolling around animated streets, watching fireworks, and even making silly attempts at swinging to the music.
Ben was fast asleep by the time Wilson returned. He woke long enough to mumble, “How’d it go?”
“None of your business, nosy-head,” Wilson growled in a low voice, but he turned to Ben with a curious smile on his face and Ben thought he winked.
The next afternoon, Wilson invited them to go fishing. When Kimi and Ben arrived at the small pier, they found not only Wilson but Anna as well, waiting for them.
This last activity was less to Ben’s liking until he discovered that Kimi’s cousin was a fountain of information on local wildlife. Being a marine biologist and oceanographer, he knew everything there was to know about local fish and wildlife, and Ben soaked up every ounce of information like a sponge.
As the four of them sped off in the small motorboat, crisscrossing through a string of jutting islands, Ben eyed Kimi suspiciously.
How did she know?
As if he had spoken aloud, she looked at him, her long fringe slapping the side of her face, her black hair dancing in the wind at her back, and gave him a knowing smile.
There wasn’t much time to mull about it further, because Wilson pointed out a black bear with its two cubs strolling along a rocky beach, then a lonely wolf, some seals, and several kinds of seabirds. The animals did not try to communicate with Ben, nor he with them. All went about their life in this abundant place. Ben was relieved that such a pristine area still existed in the world. He promised himself, however, that he would attempt to communicate with the creatures before his vacation was over.
But not now. Not just yet.
Now, he was just a normal boy, enjoying a normal vacation surrounded by friends.
His thoughts popped like a bubble when Wilson hauled in a massive salmon. It flopped around the boat, its gills protruding. Wilson ended its pain, then knelt beside the fish for an unusual amount of time.
Ben frowned at Kimi.
Wilson turned to them, his face grim. “There once was a balance between the hunter and the hunted. But modern man has broken that balance. We have become so far removed from the natural life-cycle, that we have forgotten where our food comes from.
He stared at the salmon. “We have cut ourselves from the food chain, which holds everything in place, and now that balance is lost.”
Ben stared at Kimi’s cousin. Unbeknown to him, Wilson couldn’t have laid out Ben’s mission more clearly: he had to mend life’s broken balance.
It started to drizzle, so they headed back to shore, lost in thought.
That night, under drumming rain, Ben ate the best fish in his life. He realized that it wasn’t that humans should stop eating animals because all creatures on Earth ate other creatures or were eaten themselves. The problem was that humans had disrupted the food chain, becoming its sole master. No one wanted to think about the fact that pesticides killed hundreds of insects, that cutting forests for industrial-sized crops eliminated biodiversity that had taken millions of years to thrive, that cooping fifty hens in one cage to save space was an inhuman practice…
If he could get animals to talk to him and he could transmit their grievances to the human world, then the healing could begin, and together, they could find a way to restore that balance.
“Earth to Ben, Earth to Ben,” Kimi said beside him at the dinner table.
“Huh? Oh, sorry. I was thinking about what Wil said earlier on the boat.”
She nodded. “I know. Wil has this ability to make people wonder about things. I think it’s because of his ancestors, you see. I mean, Uncle Pete’s family has always lived on the coast and sailed the oceans. He and Wil understand the bond between the land and the sea like no one else. It’s in their blood.”
A window crashed open in the kitchen, blowing wind and rain inside and making Auntie Jen yelp in surprise.
Uncle Pete rushed to close it. “Whew! We’ve got quite the storm brewing. We might as well get comfortable by the fire. Who wants Belgian chocolate?”
“Me!” everyone shouted in chorus.
The five of them settled in the living room with steaming cups topped with melting marshmallows. Ben hadn’t even had time to notice that the Maesschalck had no television. Come to think of it, they didn’t even have smartphones – except for the one Wilson had tossed on his bedroom dresser, and which hadn’t moved since Ben had arrived. When Ben had pointed out that the battery was dead, Wilson had shrugged, pointed to his family and said, “I have all the social media I need right here.” If they needed anything, they could just walk to one of the neighbours and ask for a helping hand.
“Ma,” Wilson said. “Tell us a story. I miss your stories when I’m on campus.”
Ben stared at him, surprised that the tough man would ask his mother for a story.
But Kimi jumped in, “Yes, please, Auntie Jen. Pick a story for us.”
Ben watched Auntie Jen sip on her cup of steaming chocolate, while Wilson added some logs to the fire. She smiled peacefully as if she had done this a thousand times.
“Schatje, will you get me the Fables, please?” she asked Uncle Pete, who smiled and nodded.
He unlocked the glass-paned door of an oak book-case, where only a handful of books were put on special display. When he carefully removed a gilt-edged tome with a thick leather cover, Ben knew he was being treated to something special.
Uncle Pete handed the heavy book to Auntie Jen, who rested it on her knees and turned its pages as if they were made of breakable glass.
“Jen is an expert in antique books, Ben. She has travelled far and wide buying and selling them.” Uncle Pete said. “This one, in particular, is a compilation of the Fables of La Fontaine, a French author from the seventeenth century. He wrote short stories about animals that teach a moral.”
“Ma, treat Ben to one that he won’t find in the bookstores,” Wilson said.
Auntie Jen nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, too.” She turned to Ben. “These Fables are studied in schools all over the world, Ben. But some stories in this old English translation… Well, you won’t find them printed anywhere else. Only a handful of people in the world k
now about them, which makes them so unique.”
Eyes widening, Ben settled on his stomach on the carpet beside Kimi, sipped on his hot chocolate, and listened.
CHAPTER 8 The Orca and the Moon
“A long time ago, before humans roamed the land, many orcas lived in the sea. They were pure-black in colour and loved to play and bask in the sunlight,” Auntie Jen read. “A young orca named Humblefin was very curious. He asked why there was a white ball in the night sky. He wanted to play with it.
“The black orca family became obsessed with the white ball, and all wished to play with it. They learned to leap out of the water, higher and higher. Tournaments were held, and strong, young orca-men competed to leap and swing with their tails in the hopes of kicking the white ball out of the sky.
“Humblefin’s brother, Proudfin, dreamt of being the winner of the tournament. But he was too heavy and too lazy to leap out of the water. So, he decided to cheat. He had seen land with a mountain that reached for the clouds. He thought, “If I can reach the top of that mountain, I can kick the white ball out of the sky.
“Humblefin told him, “Don’t do it, brother. It is not in our nature to go on the land.” But Proudfin was secretly jealous of Humblefin, who was the best leaper among the black orca, and did not listen.
“So Proudfin went to the land and began to crawl forward. But he was too heavy, and he was not made for the land, and so he died. His spirit separated from his body, unable to move on to the Land of the Dead. “This is all my brother’s fault,” his spirit thought. “If my brother had not been such a good leaper, I would have won the tournament, and I would not have had to come on the land.” His evil spirit turned into a black owl that watched the sea with envy.
“In the meantime, something miraculous happened. Humblefin, who was taking part in the tournament, and who had practiced his leap for months on end, knew with certainty that the white ball would be his. He swam with his strong tail up through the ocean, then leapt out of the water. Some said he looked so graceful they thought he could fly. He swirled in the air and kicked the white ball out of the sky.