GoldenEars

by Jane H Wood

  Bert nodded his agreement, and both men relaxed for the first time in ages.

  They’d been travelling for over an hour, with Marcus the pilot busy chatting to the two men and pointing out areas of interest as they passed. They discussed the flora and fauna in this region. Edmund was only half listening as the pilot changed the topic and began informing them of the changeable climate this far north.

  ‘Yeah, it can be very dangerous,’ said Marcus, ‘especially during the winter when temperatures often plummet to between -30 and -40 Celsius, and in severe weather conditions the wind chill makes it feel like -50 Celsius. If you’re unlucky enough to find yourself out in the open, you’ll need to find cover pretty quickly to survive those kinds of temperatures for long.’

  Edmund wasn’t particularly interested, and the pilot’s voice mingled with the drone of the helicopter’s engines. He let his mind wander, thinking about GoldenEars.

  ‘We’ll soon be there,’ called Marcus, turning to look at him. ‘See that clearing over there, just past this section of spruce trees?’ Marcus waved a hand, indicating a tiny open space to their right. ‘I’ll try to land as gently as possible. Hang on.’

  Edmund blinked stupidly at the pilot’s words, aware he had been on the verge of falling asleep. He straightened just in time as the helicopter banked sharply to his right and an uncomfortable lightness turned his stomach over. He made a desperate grab for his seat belt, clinging on tightly for stability. The helicopter slowed, then hovered briefly, before landing lightly onto the grass.

  The noise decreased as the engine was shut down and the overhead rotors slowed to a stop. The pilot unbuckled his belt and slid the door sideways.

  ‘Careful as you climb down, there’s a bit of a jump to the ground,’ he warned.

  A fresh woody scent filled Edmund’s nostrils as he shuffled along the rear seat, eager to get out.

  ‘Let me help you,’ offered his dad, already standing on the grass. Edmund let his dad help him gently to the ground.

  There was so much to see and, fascinated, he scanned the scenery around him. Dense forest surrounded them. Further ahead he noticed a shallow stream, where a makeshift bridge of planks traversed the narrow crossing. It appeared that it had been hastily constructed, perhaps for his arrival, Edmund thought, as he was pushed across in his wheelchair. Open pasture lay on both sides, and roughly forty yards ahead stood the wildlife centre.

  ‘This will be great, Dad,’ he said, grinning.

  But Sam wasn’t feeling so optimistic, with the knowledge that he’d soon be meeting the rangers again. He gave Bert an exasperated look and pinched his lips together.

  ‘Be civil!’ whispered Bert, raising his eyebrows.

  Sam nodded, and they continued to approach the centre. On first glance its appearance was similar to a large detached house, but instead of bricks and mortar it was constructed entirely of timber. The design was simplistic, beautiful and natural, the warmth of the wood inviting. It nestled amid the clearing, unassuming, dwarfed by the tall fir trees that fringed the clearing.

  With help, Edmund mounted the few steps then passed through the double glass doors, where they found themselves in a large public space. A long viewing window stretched all the way along the far wall, overlooking the stream and the forest beyond. Bert was hurrying behind them, pushing the empty wheelchair, and without a fuss Edmund resumed his seat.

  Max had been informed of their arrival and hurried to greet them.

  ‘Hello Edmund, Mr Rainer and Mr Mullens. Welcome,’ he said brightly, then looked at Edmund.

  He was shocked to see him seated in a wheelchair, and the extent of his injuries, still so obvious, with his left arm in a sling and the injured leg bandaged. He swallowed hard, trying to hide his feelings of guilt over the accident, but his face gave away how devastated he really felt. He’d given strict instructions to Phil and Ryan to stay away because he didn’t want to provoke a scene. He was under no illusion that Mr Rainer liked him… but then why should he?

  The men shook hands, and Sam grunted something that sounded like hello. The tension increased as the silence stretched on.

  ‘It’s good to see you. How are you, Edmund?’ asked Max, turning to him. But Edmund was so excited and could hardly contain himself.

  ‘Hello Mr Johnson. I’m a lot better, thanks. Where is GoldenEars? Can I see him?’ he asked, his cheeks flushed.

  ‘Call me Max, and of course you can see the pups. But first come into my office; we can talk easier there,’ he said, leading the way.

  Once everyone was seated inside his office, Max got straight to the point.

  ‘Right,’ he began, ‘as you know we rescued the two young wolves and brought them here. Our vet examined them immediately and discovered that one of the pups was suffering an injury and, as it turned out, quite a serious one too. Since then he’s undergone an operation, and I’m glad to say he’s doing fine.’ Max paused, noticing Edmund shifting uneasily in his wheelchair.

  ‘I stress that the pup you call GoldenEars was unhurt… but the thing is, he was hardly eating any food when he first arrived here. Then shortly afterwards he stopped eating completely for some unexplained reason. Consequently, already being in a run-down state, he quickly became ill, and frankly I feared he might not make it.’ Max checked the file lying on the desk in front of him.

  ‘This happened about four weeks ago… but then gradually he started eating again, I’m pleased to say, although not as much as he should for a growing wolf. As a result he’s become very weak and lethargic and spends the days just lying in the enclosure, disinterested in his surroundings and even his brother.’

  Edmund lowered his gaze, thinking. Then glared at Max.

  ‘Why didn’t you contact me? He could’ve died! Would you have told me then, when it was too late to save him?’

  Sam squirmed uncomfortably in his chair and glanced at Max, apprehensively.

  The chief ranger cleared his throat. ‘I… I wasn’t sure whether to bother you with this. After all, you were very ill. But when your dad phoned me a few days ago to ask about the pup, I was so relieved to hear of your recovery that I mentioned the problem to your dad, but I expect he had his own reasons for keeping it from you.’

  Edmund’s head swivelled sideways, and he glared at his dad.

  ‘You knew about GoldenEars?! That he wasn’t eating?! And you didn’t tell me…? Why?’ he blustered accusingly.

  ‘Hey, hold on, Ed! Look, I was out of my mind worrying about you, so why should I burden you with something you had no control over?!’ He glared back at his son, his jaw set in resentment.

  ‘Um, perhaps we could see the pup now?’ interrupted Bert. ‘What do you think, Max?’ he added, trying to ease the tension.

  ‘Yes, now!’ said Edmund abruptly. Then, more politely, ‘Please, Max, can I?’

  ‘Of course. I just wanted to warn you that, well, his appearance might not be as you remember. He has become very thin and I’m not sure if he will survive, to be honest,’ said Max sadly, seeing tears well up in the boy’s eyes.

  They left the building, making their way across the grass to a fenced enclosure. Edmund peered through the wooden fence, his eyes searching past the small trees and bushes that grew naturally inside. It was then that he spotted something, partially hidden in the tall grasses, lying perfectly still.

  ‘He’s there!’ he said, pointing at the indefinable shape.

  The pup’s ears twitched, and he turned his head in their direction. Edmund was impatient to go inside and placed his right hand on the arm rest, preparing to push himself out of the wheelchair. And before his dad realised, he was already taking a faltering step towards the fence. He knelt down and called the pup’s name. A nervous tingle coursed through his body while he waited for a response. A flicker of movement disturbed the grasses, then Edmund saw the pup lifting his head to peer in his direction
.

  ‘Let me in, Max, I need to touch him. He can’t get up… see?!’ Edmund motioned, searching wildly for the gate into the enclosure. Scrabbling to his feet again, he hobbled towards the gate.

  ‘Okay, but I’m coming with you,’ called Sam, making a move to follow.

  ‘No, Dad! All of you keep back! He won’t hurt me, neither will the other one. I know it!’ He ignored their anxious cries of concern, and without a backward glance he limped inside, closing the gate behind him.

  Cautiously, he approached the pup, his voice low, coaxing him with gentle words. Kegg lifted his head a little higher and stared sharp-eyed at the boy, whimpering, struggling to rise. Without a care for himself Edmund removed his sling and dashed forward, eager to pick him up. Now he was holding him close the little pup relaxed in his arms.

  ‘You’ll be all right now. I won’t leave you, I won’t,’ he whispered, stroking the pup gently in his arms.

  The three men stood in silence, amazed by the sight. The emotional scene affected Sam, and he cleared his throat before attempting to speak.

  ‘Um, is he all right?’ he managed to say, feeling very proud of his son.

  Edmund slowly turned round, still holding the pup in his arms, and with uncertain steps hobbled to the gate.

  ‘I think he will eat something now, Max,’ he said in a hoarse voice, his eyes moist with tears. But he didn’t care; GoldenEars was safe and that’s all that mattered.

  Tuke came out of his hiding place, happy to see the boy because Kegg was happy too. Edmund turned, sensing the other pup moving in the grass.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’ll bring your brother back soon,’ he said.

  ‘Your arm, Edmund, let me help you,’ pleaded Sam, witnessing his son’s face growing steadily paler from the exertion.

  ‘I’m fine, Dad. He’s not very heavy,’ he replied dismissively, puffing slightly as he joined the men.

  Max was astounded to see the young wolf so calm in Edmund’s arms.

  ‘You have a friend for life, young man. Wolves never forget!’ he said, leading them to their veterinary section.

  ‘In here, the pup can rest and feed with Edmund present. How does that sound?’ asked Max, turning to gauge whether his suggestion would be opposed by Mr Rainer. But Sam didn’t have any objections; the tension and hostility had dissolved after witnessing the extraordinary relationship between his son and this young wolf.

  ‘I’ve prepared a small pen for him in the corner. Put him here,’ said Max, opening a blanket on the floor for the pup to lie on.

  Edmund hobbled through the little doorway and laid the pup on the blanket. Kegg looked up at him and licked his lips.

  ‘He’s hungry! What can he have?’

  ‘I’ll check with the vet, but I expect it will be something light until his stomach is accustomed to eating regularly,’ answered Max, hurrying off to consult with Clive.

  Sam watched his son handling a wild animal with such confidence, and it wasn’t hard to see the affection between them.

  ‘May I touch him?’ he asked, for the pup appeared compliant beside his son.

  ‘Okay, Dad, just gently on his chest with the back of your hand, so he can see what you’re doing, and he should be fine.’

  Sam crouched down, showing the pup the back of his hand. Kegg sniffed his hand briefly then, calmly, permitted the man to stroke his fur.

  ‘He’s so soft. Bert, you try. Is that all right, Edmund?’ asked his dad, suddenly looking worried.

  He smiled, pleased his dad was taking so much interest in the wolf pup. The door opened and Max strode inside the room. ‘This is our vet, Clive, and his assistant, Mavis,’ announced Max, standing aside to let the two people enter.

  ‘Hello Edmund, I’m pleased to meet you,’ said Clive, giving a warm smile of greeting to them all. ‘And I’m relieved that you’ve managed to persuade the pup to eat a bit more,’ he continued, noting the interaction between them. ‘It’s great to see the trust and friendship you have found in each other. I’d just like to check his heart then we’ll get him some food,’ he added, adjusting his stethoscope around his neck.

  Without thinking, Max leaned forward to pick up Kegg in preparation for the check-up, when suddenly Kegg came to life, growling, his teeth gleaming, threatening to bite if he ventured any closer.

  ‘Whoa there, young fella. No one’s going to hurt you!’ cried Max, standing up swiftly and pulling his hand away.

  ‘Let me,’ offered Edmund, stooping to pick up the pup and turning him so he faced the vet. ‘Will this do? I think I’d better hold him if that’s all right?’

  ‘You certainly have a way with him. Yes, hold him there. I just want to make sure his heart and lungs are functioning fine. If he’ll let me!’

  Kegg stared suspiciously as the man approached; his gaze drifted to the boy’s face and, not receiving any signs of threat, allowed the man to touch him. Everyone was quiet, waiting for Clive to finish, hoping he wouldn’t find anything wrong.

  ‘I’m pleased to report that the little pup’s heart and lungs are fine. He just needs to put on some weight and regain his strength. I think he would tolerate tinned dog food for puppies. It’s light and easy to digest, just in case his tummy is a little sensitive. It’s just to get him started; once his system accepts food regularly then he can return to a raw meat diet, something he’s more used to,’ said Clive, patting the pup on the head.

  His assistant gathered a bowl and the tin of puppy food and handed them to Clive.

  ‘Thank you Mavis. Let’s see if this does the trick,’ he said hopefully and spooned half the contents into the dish and placed it on the floor inside the small pen. Kegg stared at the unusual thing. He didn’t like its shiny surface and backed away, a low growl building in his throat. Undeterred by his threatening behaviour, Edmund leaned forward to put his fingers into the soft jelly-like substance and lifted out some firmer shapes that resembled meat. He spoke softly to the pup, reassuring him as he offered the food in his outstretched hand.

  ‘Come on, boy. GoldenEars, you must eat, come on, boy.’ Edmund shifted his position on the floor with his injured leg now stretched out in front of him, tempting the pup forward.

  Kegg edged backwards fearfully, watching all the faces crowding around him expectantly. He tensed, feeling trapped as his gaze rested on the food again. It smelt strange, and he began to panic.

  The situation was rapidly worsening and Edmund sat up.

  ‘Could you all leave now?’ he snapped, louder than he had intended, and stared at everyone accusingly.

  His dad pinched his lips together and his forehead creased in a frown, annoyed by his son’s unwarranted rudeness.

  ‘Um, sorry, Dad, everyone. But he’s frightened,’ answered Edmund with the tiniest quaver in his voice.

  Once they were alone, Kegg settled down. He sat in front of the boy and scratched his ears, sending a few of the fine golden hairs drifting onto the floor.

  Edmund leaned back against the wall, not wishing to place any undue pressure on him. In his own time, Kegg tentatively moved towards the dish. He sniffed the metal rim suspiciously, then inquisitively leaned over the dish and let his tongue slide into the soft food, hesitating fractionally before eating.

  Max had taken the opportunity to show Sam and Bert their observation room, the centre’s pride and joy.

  ‘This is a one-way window, where we can observe any wildlife that wanders past without disturbing their natural behaviour. Here on our reserve, hunting is banned, although occasionally in the past we’ve had problems with illegal hunting, especially during the spring and summer months. But despite that, this a great place to watch animals you wouldn’t normally see,’ he said proudly.

  They watched in amazement as a small herd of bison wandered nonchalantly past the glass, unaware of the humans on the other side.

  Max was in his el
ement, explaining about the animals that frequented the reserve, like bison and elk, as well as different species of deer, and on rare occasions moose would brave the open to feed on the grasses and shrubs, or drink in the nearby stream.

  The window was perfectly placed for the best view of the wildlife, and over the years the reserve had slowly grown in popularity. Families were encouraged to visit, because education was key to Max’s idea of changing public opinion concerning hunting, though the emphasis was firmly placed on enjoyment, watching animals in their natural habitat while enjoying some light refreshments, or sitting by the blazing fire during the colder weather.

  A couple of families were sitting close to the window quietly watching the visiting wildlife when a few children called out, their voices shrill with excitement at the sight of a moose that had wandered into the open to feed on the leaves of a nearby bush.

  ‘Let me get you a coffee,’ offered Max, walking over to the café area and ordering three strong coffees from Claire who served behind the counter.

  Sam and Bert sat down on one of the bench seats and stared through the window. It was an impressive set-up. A lot of care and attention had been taken to ensure the best natural viewing of some of Canada’s wildlife.

  Max placed the drinks on the table and sat down opposite the men.

  ‘What do you think of it, then?’ he asked, waving his hand to indicate the whole area.

  ‘It’s great,’ answered Sam. ‘I had no idea this sort of thing was so popular. How many visitors come here?’ he asked, still staring through the window while he sipped his coffee.

  ‘Oh, we get perhaps over a thousand visitors each year. School holidays are the busiest times, as you would expect. Look, let me show you to your room. You’ll all be staying together; hope that’s agreeable,’ said Max, putting his mug on the table and standing up.

  Upstairs in their bedroom the two men began unpacking the few items of clothes they’d brought. Earlier that morning Sam had dashed to the shops to buy Edmund a warm, loose-fitting tracksuit, a sweater, a pair of pyjamas and some underpants for the duration of their stay.