Hannah and the Wild Woods

by Carol Anne Shaw

  “Seriously?”

  “Yep. He was pretty special, and he got pretty chummy with a lot of the local folks in town.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He flew into a power line in 1997. Electrocuted.”

  “No way!” I say, “That happened to an eagle back home last year. My friend and I helped raise the eaglets.”

  “I think it happens more often than you’d think,” Peter says. “That raven is in the Port Clements museum now. And the people of Haida Gwaii believe that a white raven returns when light is brought back to the land.”

  “Light? What kind of light?”

  “Not sure, really. Maybe it’s more of a metaphor,” Peter says. “Light being symbolic for good juju, perhaps.”

  Like Jack coming back to us, I want to say. If that isn’t good juju, I don’t know what is.

  “So, if the white raven has returned,” Kimiko says. “This is a good sign?”

  “I would have to say it is,” Peter says.

  “You know,” Sabrina says. “My mom’s friend survived this super awful plane crash ten years ago, and her hair turned white overnight.”

  “Hah,” Jade says. “I think that’s totally an urban myth.”

  “Well, tell that to my mom’s friend,” Sabrina says. “Anyway, maybe that’s what happened to Jack. Maybe something spooked him and his feathers just turned white.”

  But Peter just smiles.

  I watch Jack on the birdbath. He flaps his wings as though he’s about to take flight but then changes his mind, holding them out proudly on either side of him like a butterfly. I quickly grab my phone—Jack is practically begging to have his picture taken.

  Even though Kimiko and I are mega sleep-deprived, we work steadily together on the beach. It feels wonderful to be warm and dry, after a nice hot breakfast. The sky overhead has become a periwinkle blue, and a cool, refreshing breeze blows in off the water. It’s like last night’s storm never even happened.

  Jack wasn’t the only one affected when Kimiko broke her hoshi no tama. Back in the diner, Marcus had said a kitsune couldn’t survive without its star ball, but he didn’t say anything about how a half-kitsune might be affected. Kimiko’s energy has returned with a vengeance! She runs all over the sand, chasing seagulls and climbing over driftwood. She lobs slimy pieces of sea lettuce at our unsuspecting heads when she thinks we aren’t looking, and creates clamshell pictures along flatter pieces of driftwood from one end of the beach to the other. But the most awesome thing of all is the time she spends chasing her own shadow on the sand—her shadow that, up until now, had four legs and multiple bushy tails.

  “What’s with Kimiko?” Jade asks me during a break. We’re both building a sandcastle near the water, although if you ask me, Jade seems more intent on digging a ridiculously deep moat than she is in creating any sort of epic fortress.

  “She’s just happy,” I say. “You know. Sunny day and all that.”

  “I guess,” she says. “But, how old is she, six?”

  “Uh …” I point to our sandcastle, complete with sand dollar windows and a seaweed grass lawn. “How old are we?”

  “I see your point,” Jade says, because she’s like, twenty-five.

  But childish or not, we manage to construct an impressive bull kelp bridge over our moat, as well as a few misshapen, slightly tilted turrets.

  Sabrina comes up behind us and drops to her knees on the sand. “Can I help?” She picks up a wet handful of sand and slaps it back and forth between her palms.

  “You’re getting dirty,” I say, eyeing her suspiciously.

  “It’s just a little sand.”

  Who is this girl, and where did Sabrina go?

  “Oh, come on,” Sabrina says, rolling her eyes at both of us. “There isn’t a person alive who doesn’t like building sandcastles!”

  I shrug. We haven’t said much to each other since the whole “mother” comment she made.

  Soon Kimiko grows tired of dancing with her shadow and wanders over to see what the three of us are doing. “Here,” she says, squatting beside me. “Let me.” She puts some broken clamshell detailing on the turret, and I pause to watch Jack on the top of a nearby cedar tree. The sunshine bounces off his bright white wings, and I’m pretty sure he’s well aware of just how majestic he looks by the way he holds his head so high and proud. He is truly magnificent. I nudge Kimiko’s arm and point to him. She smiles, and nudges me back.

  When the break is over and the others have wandered away from the castle, I ask the question that’s been on my mind all morning. “Kimiko?”

  “Yes?”

  “You broke your hoshi no tama. But you’re fine. Better than fine, even. What’s going on?”

  “Honestly, Hannah … I don’t know. All I know is that I had to help you. I had to help Jack.” Her smile is one of the biggest I’ve ever seen her make. She nods her head toward Jack in the tree. “He gave his life trying to help me,” she says earnestly. “It was my turn to help him.”

  My eyes grow wet, and I feel as though I may have misunderstood Kimiko all along. I should never have judged her so harshly. Because, what must it have been like to have people scared of you all the time—to live for so long but never feel an authentic connection with anyone? And then, the tsunami … it’s a wonder Kimiko has been able to function at all. It makes me feel kind of ashamed, especially when I think about how sour I’ve been about the upcoming move to Victoria. Kind of a first world problem in the grand scheme of things, I guess.

  “So,” I say to Kimiko, “do you still feel different?”

  “Yes. I do. Different, but wonderful! Everything looks brighter somehow, more alive.” She sniffs the air. “And I can’t smell anything! Except the sea!”

  “And this is a good thing?”

  “Before today,” she says, spreading her arms wide, “I could smell everything. I could smell people, and the animals in the forest, danger … just, everything! But not any more.” She sniffs again. “Now I smell only the sea.”

  “Same here,” I say. “But then, I’m only human.”

  Kimiko laughs out loud. “I think,” she says, “we have that in common now.”

  “Is that even possible?” I say. “That you are fully human now?”

  “Well, how else do you explain it? My heightened sense of smell has gone. I have a human reflection, and I cast the most beautiful shadows!”

  “And there’s Norman, too” I add. “Don’t forget him. He’s suddenly super stoked on you.”

  “You see? That would never happen if I were still a kitsune,” Kimiko explains.

  Before I can answer, a little shrew skitters across the ground, headed for a rotting stump a few feet away from us. Kimiko makes a sudden lunge forward and then stops herself and laughs again.

  “What?”

  “I feel different, all right. Normally, that shrew would have made a tasty snack. They used to be one of my favourite afternoon munchies.”

  “Ew! Gross!”

  “I know, right? I can’t think of anything more disgusting now.” Kimiko places her hands on her stomach, as though she’s trying to settle it. “You couldn’t pay me to eat that shrew now.”

  “Well, thank goodness for that.”

  Kimiko raises her face to the sun. “Being human is awesome!”

  “I’d have to agree,” Peter says, appearing on the beach behind us.

  Kimiko blushes, and we both laugh as a wave breaks, destroying one side of our sandcastle.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Well guys,” peter says, snapping his field guide shut. “Your time here is almost over. I’d say we’ve done a pretty good job of cleaning up the coves around here. What’ll we do to wrap things up?” He tosses the book on the coffee table and stretches against the back of his chair in the Big Kahuna.

  Norman jumps up onto the couch next to Kimiko and puts his head on her lap. She immediately starts scratching his chin. It’s like they’ve been friends forever.

&n
bsp; “Want to go into town?” Jade asks. “I mean, brownies, right?”

  Downtown Tofino is busy, full of surfers who come here from all over to catch the big waves. We see their trucks and vans parked everywhere, the big colourful boards strapped to roof racks or sticking up over tailgates.

  Peter and Jade head off to the Driftwood Diner, while Kimiko and I, and yes, Sabrina, wander in and out of the specialty shops. I decide to buy little presents for everyone back in Cowichan Bay. I buy coffee mugs with an orca on one (for Dad) and a Pacific loon on the other (for Anne). I choose a pair of oven mitts with ravens on them for Nell, two bottle openers in the shape of fish for Ben and Riley, and a book on West Coast seafood cooking for Aunt Maddie. In a funky little bookstore, I find a sketchbook with an eagle printed on the cover for Izzy, and a tiny stuffed otter for her little sister, Amelia. Ramona and Izzy’s mom both get handmade wooden knitting needles. Last of all, I snag some surfing decals for Max. No doubt he’ll stick them on that old Volvo—the one he seems determined to buy.

  All Sabrina buys is a pack of gum at the corner grocery store. She doesn’t talk much, and that’s fine by me. Kimiko, on the other hand, is like a kid in a candy store. She can’t get enough of the little shops. She wants to venture into every single one, and after twenty minutes, I tell her we’ll meet her a little later she is clearly enjoying this long overdue, off-leash time.

  “But,” I warn her when Sabrina is out of earshot. “Be careful. You’re new to this whole human thing. Just don’t act too weird, or accept any rides from strangers, or—”

  “I won’t,” Kimiko promises, impatient at having to stand still.

  When she disappears into a clothing store, I head off in the opposite direction.

  “Where are you going?” Sabrina asks.

  “I want to check out the art scene up here.”

  “The art scene?” she says sarcastically. “Help me control my enthusiasm.”

  “Well, no one said you had to come, too,” I say.

  She follows me anyway.

  There are tons of galleries peppered along the main street through town. Sabrina mostly looks at the jewellery, but I am mesmerized by the paintings. There’s one in particular that catches my eye—a print of Emily Carr’s, called “D’Sonoqua: Wild Woman of the Woods.” The wooden figure is dark, with hollow sunken eyes and powerful outstretched arms. She is taller than tall, with long matted hair, and the dark, ominous forest looms behind her.

  “Apparently the wild woman in the woods used to kidnap children,” the woman working in the gallery tells us.

  Sabrina puts down the necklace she’s been admiring.

  “And then she used to eat them,” the woman adds.

  None of this is news to me. I heard that very same story the summer I was twelve, in Yisella’s village. One of the elders told the little kids in the village about her. It was their way of ensuring the kids wouldn’t wander into the woods and become lost. I remember how freaked out they were.

  I look around to see if Sabrina is listening but she’s gone, and then I see her sitting alone on a bench near the post office across the road.

  “Well,” I tell the woman, “it was nice talking to you.”

  “You, too,” she says cheerily. “Don’t go getting lost in the woods, now!”

  Hah! If only you knew.

  I cross the street and feel compelled to sit beside Sabrina on the bench. She doesn’t say anything, just studies her folded hands in her lap. A minute later she starts shredding a gum wrapper into tiny pieces. Something is up.

  “Listen,” I say, “do you want to get a coffee? Maybe meet up with Peter and Jade at the Driftwood or something?”

  She looks at me, her eyes full of tears, and shakes her head, no.

  Crap! It’s hard watching somebody cry, even when that somebody has sometimes been the reason behind some of your own tears.

  “Look, Sabrina. You did your time here,” I say. “We’re heading home soon.”

  “Don’t you get it?” she wails. “That’s the part I hate the most. I mean, I don’t want to stay here, but I don’t want to go home, either. The only person at home is Rosa, our maid.”

  “Your parents are still in Hawaii?”

  “Correction. My mother is still in Hawaii, with Ansell, her Pilates instructor. My dad is somewhere in Oregon. Portland, I think, or maybe Eugene. I really have no idea. Some business trip, as usual.”

  I don’t say anything, because, how is a person supposed to respond to a statement like that?

  “Yeah, nice, eh? You remember when my mom called the other night? Do you know what she said to me?”

  I shake my head.

  “She said, ‘Oh, by the way, Sabrina, your father and I are splitting up. I’m sure you aren’t all that surprised. But honey, you’re going to love Ansell. He’s likes all the same music you do, plus he has a Porsche!’ Can you believe it? And he’s like, eleven years younger than my mom, too.”

  “I’m really sorry, Sabrina.”

  “It’s just that …”

  I wait.

  “It’s just that you were buying all those little gifts for your family and stuff, and I didn’t feel like buying anything for anyone, except Tiffy. How pathetic is my life, eh?” She takes the bit of tissue I offer her and blows her nose with gusto.

  “Tiffy counts,” I say.

  “I know, but you know what I mean. I just … I just don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to go back home.”

  I struggle for the right words, but it’s hard. It seems as though the Webber’s big beautiful house is pretty empty inside, literally and figuratively.

  “Come on,” I say, taking her arm and hauling her up onto her feet. “You totally need something decadent to eat. I’ll even treat.”

  “Are you insane?” she says, but she still allows me to drag her up the street.

  “Probably.”

  “Wait,” Sabrina stops on the sidewalk and looks down at her shoes. They’re fire-engine red, and so not Tofino. “I need to say something.”

  I feel myself stiffen. “Okay.”

  “It’s about what I said the other day? That stuff about your mom.”

  I chew my bottom lip. “I remember.”

  “Well, I was just so upset about my parents. I mean, I know that doesn’t make it okay or anything, but … well, I’m really sorry. It was a really terrible thing to say. Even for me.”

  I nod my head. “You’re right. It was.”

  “No wonder I don’t have any friends. I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me. You have every reason not to.”

  I think about that for a minute. “No,” I say when we start walking again. “I forgive you.” And I’m surprised to find that I do.

  I stop outside the door of the Driftwood Diner and fold my arms in front of me. Sabrina raises both her hands in the air in mock surrender. “Okay, okay! You win. Find me something loaded with butter, sugar and nuts.”

  “That’s the spirit!”

  “But most important of all?”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “Don’t cheap out on the chocolate.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “I can’t remember when I’ve had a better day,” Kimiko says later in the afternoon. We’re upstairs in our room, looking over the gifts I bought for everyone. Kimiko picks up the sketchbook and turns it over in her hands.

  “This is beautiful.” She opens the book runs a hand over the clean white pages. “Is your friend Izzy a good artist?”

  “She’s amazing,” I say truthfully. “She has the coolest job back home. She paints her own designs on kayaks.”

  “I’d like to visit Cowichan Bay one day,” Kimiko says. “Then I can see for myself. And meet your family, too.”

  I frown, not quite sure of what to say. “You’d like Cowichan Bay, but it looks like I won’t be there for much longer.”

  “You won’t? Why not?”

  “My father wants to move to Victoria. That’s a city abou
t an hour away.”

  “And you will be separated from each other? How awful!”

  “Well,” I say, “no. It isn’t like that. We’ll just be moving to a new house, along with Anne, his girlfriend.”

  “Oh,” Kimiko says, nodding. “And you don’t like her?”

  “No! Anne is great. It’s just that, I like the house we live in now.”

  “But this is nothing,” Kimiko says. “Your home will just be different on the outside. It’s the people that matter. You said so yourself.”

  “I guess I did say that.” Why is it so easy to dispense sage advice, yet so hard to take it?

  “Well, wherever you end up living, I am going to miss you very much,” Kimiko says.

  I smile. “But we can keep in touch and stuff. You know about Facebook and Instagram, right?”

  Kimiko frowns. “Facebook and Insta-what?”

  Wow, becoming “human” when you’re already a teenager is going to be a serious challenge, that’s for sure.

  “I’ll explain later,” I tell her. Kimiko nods, twisting several of her dark braids thoughtfully in her hand, but there’s a crease between her eyebrows that wasn’t there a moment ago.

  “Relax. It’s all going to be fine,” I assure her. “You’ll see. You just have to take stuff one day at a time.”

  “Is that another expression?”

  “Sort of. It just means don’t think too far ahead. Just enjoy the day, you know?”

  “I sure hope I don’t do anything stupid,” she snorts. “I don’t ever want to make another mistake.”

  I laugh. “Hah! Good luck with that.”

  “Why are you laughing?”

  “Because making mistakes is inevitable. It’s part of being human. Take it from me, I’ve got this whole human thing dialed!” Even so, Kimiko doesn’t look entirely convinced. Who could blame her? She’s building a whole new life.

  “So,” I say, changing the subject. “Is there a part of the old you that you’re going to miss?”

  “The old me?”