“Probably on two sides of the border,” Sophie added.
Juliet turned then, and stared at her, and said, “Yes, yes, of course.
She let it go then, and watched the swallow. “I want to mark the swallow’s band,” she said.
“Because he’s leaving?”
“Maybe. He can fly now. I don’t know, but I’d like to keep track of him, come back in the spring and see if he’s here, something like that. There might be lots of swallows with that same band, and I’d like to be able to tell if this one made it through the winter. I know it’s silly, but....”
“It’s not silly,” Sophie said. “I scratched an X on the swan’s band.”
Juliet smiled and went to the water and took the swallow from the swan’s back. She opened her knife and scratched a J onto the tiny band and opened her hand. The swallow fluttered and flew back to the swan.
As she walked back to the old woman she thought about the J and how it meant that the bird was hers, in a way, and she wished that she had scratched an X instead. She kept trying to own these creatures, and she’d have to stop, now.
She sat down beside Max and he rested his chin on her thigh. It made her feel better. She was glad that Max didn’t need to go anywhere. She remembered that she hadn’t fed him and she thought he must be hungry. She wanted to feed him quickly so that he wouldn’t need to wander off in search of food, like the elk and the birds. She stroked his fur for what seemed to be a long time, and then she stood and went over to Sophie.
“I have to go,” Juliet said. “I have to feed Max. But I’ll come back in the morning. Could you try and remember where you buried the swan?”
“Why?”
“Well, I’d like to do an autopsy.”
“All right,” Sophie said. “I’ll try. I promise.”
The swan was gone when Juliet arrived the next morning, and so was the swallow.
“I watched them go,” Sophie said. “And it was wonderful to see. The swan flew off first. It flew very high, and then it came down again, and waited for the swallow, and when the swallow was in the sky, it flew in front of it, as if the swallow was just another swan, as if it was one of the old males at the tip of a triangle of swans, leading the way south. It flew low, lower than it would usually fly so that the swallow could follow, and every so often it turned and looked over it’s shoulder to see if the swallow was keeping up. And the little swallow banked and glided through the sky, and they seemed to speak in soft low tones like birds do. One note if there’s a predator overhead, and a different note for an enemy on the ground. And then they were gone.”
“I wonder if the swan will leave the swallow in North Carolina?” Juliet asked. “Isn’t that where whistling swans usually go?”
“The swallow will return to South America,” Sophie said.
“It’s strange how birds keep going back to the same place, over and over, but they do. Think of it. That tiny swallow. Six hundred miles a day, day after day after day, until it’s there, at last.”
It made Juliet sad to think of the tiny swallow flying hundreds, maybe thousands, of miles without its family, but the swallow was more than a year old and it had made that journey before. It knew the route. Juliet wasn’t sure how it knew the way, but it did, and it was on his way now.
“Do you think it will find his family in South America?” Juliet asked Sophie.
“Yes,” Sophie said, and Juliet felt much better. She closed her eyes and pictured the swallow and the swan soaring south, the swan leading the way, the little swallow trying to keep up, the swan glancing back over his shoulder every so often to check on the swallow.
“I remembered where I buried the other swan,” Sophie said. “It was quite easy, really. You can usually remember things when you have a good reason.”
Sophie found a shovel and led Juliet and Max along the bank of the river to a Douglas fir tree. She pointed to a spot under the tree and said, “It’s there,” and then she started to dig. It didn’t take her long to uncover the bird.
Juliet knelt down and pulled out her knife, cut open the bird and examined it carefully. She was searching for something, anything that might give a clue as to what was happening to these birds, but everything appeared normal. She knew she was being silly. If someone had injected this swan with a tranquilizer all of its organs would look normal. So what was she looking for?
If someone had injected this bird with a tranquilizer, it wouldn’t have made it this far. It wouldn’t even have made it a mile. So how did they do it?
Juliet ran her fingers over the swan’s body. She felt its heart, its bones, its stomach, its wings.
Something was wrong with breast bone. The first time that she touched it, she thought that it might be broken, but when she fingered it again, she realized that it wasn’t the bone at all. It was lower than the bone, and it felt as if something had been implanted into the flesh. She ran her fingers back and forth, over the skin. Then she made an incision and peeled back the feathers and outer layer of skin.
She pulled out the implant and studied it. It was about the size of a stamp, but it had three or four tiny pellets attached to it.
“What is it?” Sophie asked.
“It’s an implant,” Juliet said. “And I’d guess that these pellets are some kind of tranquilizer, timed to go off every few miles.”
She held out her hand to Sophie and showed her the implant. “See,” she said. “The pellets are different sizes. Some of them have more coating on them. The ones with the least coating will go off first, and the ones with the most coating will go off much later. It’s like timed-release cold capsules.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” Juliet said.
She wrapped a hankerchief around the implant and put it into her pocket, and then she picked up the shovel and buried the bird.
“I’ll take the implant to the lab,” she said. “And maybe by then, I’ll have figured it out.”
6. THE STORM
Juliet drove faster than she should have. She was anxious to get home to Montana and the lab, because now she was curious, really curious.
Beside her, Max seemed calm, until he saw the swallow out in front of the jeep.
Juliet could tell by the way the swallow banked and circled that it wasn’t the same bird. And this bird was alone. Her swallow was part of a couple now, wasn’t it? Her swallow was with the swan.
Max put his front paws up on the dashboard and watched the swallow until it disappeared above the jeep, and when it was out of sight, he moved into the back and examined the sky until it reappeared.
“That’s not our swallow, Max,” Juliet said. “Ours is gone. That one’s ...” she hesitated, “late.”
Max pressed his nose against the side window, and then he glanced back over at her. He had that soft, pleading, let-me-out look in his eyes, and so she stopped the jeep and opened the door, and he hopped down and ran around in circles on the hard snow and barked at the sky.
“He’s gone,” Juliet said. But the swallow wasn’t gone. It flew down low then, and Max barked as if he had known all along that the bird was still there, and when he saw it he followed it into the trees and disappeared.
She heard him bark, then heard only echoes as he moved farther and farther into the trees, and then she heard nothing, nothing at all.
She called him several times, and waited, and when he did not come she called again, and again, and again.
She felt very, very cold. She shivered as she listened to the sudden, total silence. Where was Max? And where was the swallow? Maybe it had been the same swallow. Maybe Max had known that.
She felt deeply sad suddenly, and more alone than she could remember ever feeling in her whole life.
“Max,” she called. “Max, Max.”
When he didn’t answer she climbed back into the jeep, closed the door and waited. When he still didn’t return, she left the jeep and went out into the woods to find him.
The wind came up then, and the sky
darkened as the storm gathered. She couldn’t leave Max out there alone in that unfamiliar place.
She ran now, deeper into the woods. “Max, Max,” she called, but he didn’t answer, and she felt like crying now, because of the coming storm, but most of all because of Max.
The snow began to fall then, and the world came alive with sounds, as the animals fled for cover. The call of an owl echoed through the woods, and something large, larger even than Max, moved past her. She turned quickly, and jumped back, and froze, as a bison came within ten feet and moved on without noticing her.
She listened, and followed the sound to the edge of the forest. She looked out on a plain and saw the bison lumbering across it, and there was the swallow, and Max.
She didn’t want to call him because of the bison, so she waited as the swallow circled lower and lower, and then she moved toward Max slowly. He was watching the swallow and he didn’t see her.
The swallow had led them back to Mammoth Hot Springs.
Max raced ahead of her, following the bird, and when she called him he wouldn’t come. She lost him for awhile, then heard him bark and saw him again, down below on the boardwalk.
She stood watching, as the snow fell. Max studied the swallow as it flew lower and lower and fell onto the limestone next to the boardwalk. The swallow lay there, unmoving, a tiny shadow in the steam and the falling snow.
Juliet screamed then, because she knew that Max would try and go to the swallow, and if he did he might be scalded by a new hot-water spring that could be percolating under the limestone.
She cried out again. Max looked up at her and moved back, and then Juliet raced down to him and held him by the collar, and they watched the little swallow together.
She saw the tiny band on its leg and knew what was wrong with it, and then she knew what to do. The bird was about six feet from the boardwalk, too far to reach with her hand, but not too far to rescue. She took off her belt and tied it to Max’s collar, then wrapped the other end around a post. When he was secure, she went to search for something that would reach the swallow.
While she was looking, she heard Max bark behind her and she saw that he wasn’t watching the swallow any more. He was watching something else. He was studying a figure far down the boardwalk. At first she thought the bison had returned to chase this intruder away, but when she tiptoed closer she saw that it was a man. She couldn’t see him clearly because it was dusk now, but she could tell that he was short, and that he was wearing a large old grey cap on his head.
The man’s back was to her, and she could tell that he was interested in the swallow.
She stepped toward him. The snow crunched under her boot, and he turned and noticed her. She retreated behind a tree, and watched as he slipped what looked like a notebook into his pocket. And then he was gone.
She breathed then, and waited, and when she was sure that he wouldn’t return, she found a branch and carried it back to Max. Then she leaned out from the boardwalk and used the branch to slide the swallow toward her. She brought it in carefully and very slowly, because she was afraid that any minute a tiny spring of hot water would erupt under him.
The swallow was still alive.
She held it gently and showed it to Max and then she went to the place where the man had been.
She saw his footprints in the snow and stood in them, and made a mental note that his bootprints were exactly the same size as hers.
She went back to Max, and held the swallow out for him to see, and then she put it in her pocket and took it to Tom’s.
She was scared, and she needed a friend. When she realized that he wasn’t there she felt sad and suddenly very young. She laid the swallow on a newspaper, removed the implant, and forgot for a moment that she was alone.
It was a different swallow. She had been right about that. But it didn’t seem to matter to Max. He slept beside the box and waited.
7. THE LAST NIGHT
Tom returned the next morning. He seemed happy that she was there, and genuinely interested in everything that she had learned. Then he took her to her jeep and she drove it back to his cabin.
She stayed another night, sleeping beside Max on Tom’s couch under a quilt that his grandmother had made for him, as the storm blew up outside the cabin. Tom had sat up with them until it was very late, poking the fire and listening to the wind, and asking questions that Juliet was sometimes hesitant to answer.
He wanted to know everything about her. First he asked about her family, and then he asked where she went to school and what she liked to eat and what she wanted to do for the rest of her life.
“I have a little sister,” she said. “Her name’s Katie and she’s eleven. I go to a big high school in Montana. After I graduate in June I’ll go to college in Montana. I love Montana.
“I like puffed rice,” she continued, and peanut butter cookies, and animals of course. I love animals. I think I even like them better than people. My mother says that’s because they can’t talk or tell me what to do. She says I should have been born a wild animal so that I could scurry away whenever I wanted to. My mother understands me, even though I make her nervous.
“I’m going to be a veterinarian,” she said, when he encouraged her to continue. “I work with a vet named Cam now, and....”
She stopped, because she didn’t like to talk about people behind their backs. Her face must have given her away, because Tom said, “You don’t like him?”
Juliet avoided the question. She ran her fingers through Max’s soft fur and when he snuggled closer to her, she pulled the quilt tighter around them.
The wind was dying down outside and the snow was stopping. Suddenly Juliet found herself thinking about the drive home, and decorating the Christmas tree with her mother and father and Katie. She wondered if they still had the angel that she and Katie had made the year before.
She didn’t want to talk any more. She just wanted to go to sleep and wake up and begin the long drive home.
Tom wouldn’t let her. “Do you?” he asked.
Juliet glanced over at him. “What?” she asked.
“Do you like him?”
“He’s all right. But he brings out the worst in me. He makes me competitive, or maybe I am competitive, and he makes it worse. I don’t know, but all I really want to do is take care of the animals. He’s a vet and I’m not ... yet.”
Juliet looked at Tom then, and saw that he was really interested in her, and it made her nervous. He noticed that, and glanced down at the fire, then got up from his chair and picked up a log and tossed it onto the fire, mumbling something.
“I couldn’t hear you,” Juliet said.
“I said, can’t you just take care of the animals? Can’t you just let him be the best, let him be the veternarian, and you help him?”
“I could try,” Juliet said, and then she felt guilty because they had talked only about her. “I’m sorry,” she added. “I haven’t asked about you.”
“There’s not much to say,” he replied. “I’m here. I’m doing what I’ve always wanted to do, and I’m happy most of the time.”
He glanced out the window. “The storm’s letting up,” he said. “You should get some sleep if you’re going to drive home tomorrow.”
He brought her an extra pillow and said goodnight, and then he went away and came back with a blanket, and said good night again. And he didn’t come back until morning.
She dreamed of swallows that night. She dreamed of swallows and small men in caps, and a fire that glowed way, way, back behind a far-away shadow somewhere far away.
Tom woke her at eight with a bowl of puffed rice, and she wondered if he already had it or if he had gone out to the store to buy it.
“You’re welcome to stay longer if you’d like,” he said as she ate.
Juliet looked up at him and smiled. “I’d better go home,” she said. “I want to see if my angel is still in the box.”
Tom looked puzzled, but he didn’t ask any more questions, an
d she was glad. She climbed out from under the quilt and opened the door for Max.
Outside, the snow was deep, but the sky was clear. The main roads had probably been plowed by now. She could leave.
She felt sad again as she called Max to her. All this leaving. All this sadness. She would have to find a better way to leave. She would have to study it, as if she was studying a new skill, like sewing up a calf or diagnosing a sick horse. Advanced leaving, she thought. Maybe they have a course like that in college.
When it was time to leave, she said goodbye quickly, and turned away so that Tom wouldn’t see her face. Then, when she was settled in her jeep and settled within herself, she looked out the window and smiled, and said, “Thank you. I guess I needed a friend to talk to.”
“Remember,” he said, “just take care of the animals.”
“I’ll remember. And I’ll see you in the spring.”
“You will?”
Juliet turned the key and started the jeep. “I want to come back and see the swallow and the swan return together,” she said.
“And me?”
“And you,” Juliet said.
She waved then and drove away.
8. CHRISTMAS
It was a strange, unsettling Christmas. Her parents were carrying in the Christmas tree as she drove up the small dirt road that led to the old house, and when they saw the jeep they dropped it in the snow and ran to greet her.
She could tell that they were relieved to see her, and it made her feel uneasy. She wished that they trusted her completely, but at the same time she realized that perhaps she couldn’t expect that, yet.
But at the same time she was happy to see them and glad to be home.
She felt a bit like one of those little balls attached to a paddle with a piece of elastic. She kept bouncing farther and farther away, but she always came back, and every time she returned safely her parents felt secure enough to send her out a bit further.
Case of the Glacier Park Swallow Page 3