“You look much better,” Uncle Oscar tells her.
They are going to discharge her today! I help her dress and Uncle Oscar takes care of her checkout. When he comes back she is sitting in a wheelchair, ready to go.
I squeeze his hand gratefully. Uncle Oscar is so incredibly generous.
He just paid her hospital stay, which was probably crazy expensive. Unbeknownst to us, Uncle Oscar told the hospital to spare no expense—that he would take care of whatever wasn’t covered by Leo’s insurance to make sure she’d have everything possible. He winks when he sees me realizing what he did.
The nurse comes in after we push the button. She has to wheel Leo out of the hospital for some random reason.
At the car, Leo stands up and I put her in the front like she’s an invalid. I tuck my coat around her. Make sure the vents aren’t blowing directly on her.
“Stop!” She laughs. “You look like your mom!”
I get in the backseat.
When we get home I stand beside her in case she falls as we walk up the steps. I’m afraid she’s so fragile she would shatter. I stick my elbow out like a boy scout helping an old lady across the street. She wants to go sit out back on the swing so we do.
GramMer and Beau bring out some grits sprinkled with a bit of brown sugar. And some yogurt.
“You gotta eat. We have a list of recommended things to start with.”
Much to my continuing relief, she does. Not much, but some. She’s trying.
We take a few days to recover. I am told Leonie was very lucky. We take it easy.
She has to stop dieting and eat and it’s so hard for her that I have to nag her constantly. Slowly but surely, she continues to eat and soon she’s acting pretty normal. Except she is still shockingly thin and weak.
We start to get ready for our return trip home. Shane calls and says the van is almost running, whatever that means. He reckons a few more days.
We’ve decided we won’t tell Shane what happened—about the hospital and everything—since we’ve just met him and he might not understand all the stuff, since he doesn’t know Leo’s past.
Shane also told us “Greg says hi to Leo.”
That makes Leo and I look at each other sadly. Greg’s so not a contender, though he is such a sweetheart. But there is no room for anyone except Shane.
We chill for a couple more days. One sunny afternoon, GramMer gets the idea to show the uncles the wild rosebushes that grow all over the hills. Also, some kind of berry that grows around here is now ripe. They bundle into the wagon and take off. Beau goes with them. I see him in the backseat and he waves to me—then obviously gets a text and is studiously looking down when they pull away. I watch them grow smaller as they drive off. I wave from the porch.
Leo and I stay home with The Bomb. We didn’t feel like hiking and Leo’s supposed to take it easy anyway.
We are sitting on the sofa. I am watching Discovery and Leonie is texting when my dad and Raven roll up. She runs in the house yelling, “GramMer!” and Dad walks in yelling, “Mom?”
“They’re not here!” I yell, so they’ll stop yelling.
“Oh. Hi, guys. Where are they?” asks Dad.
“They went to see the wild roses,” I tell him. Leo is obliviously texting.
“Really? When?”
“I dunno . . . a while ago.”
“God-dang it!! I’ve got a meeting and I can’t take Raven. Mom said she’d watch her!”
“It’s okay, we will,” offers Leo.
Oh, we will? Suddenly Leo is all involved. She’s looking at Dad with a smile. I glare at her malevolently but the damage is already done.
“Really, honey? That would be great! Would that be okay, Raven?” he asks.
“With Leonie?” Raven asks doubtfully. “Or just Rylee?” She’s chewing gum.
“Both!” says Leo and holds out her arms. “We can paint your fingernails pink!”
“’Kay!” Raven’s in. She runs to get the fingernail polish from our room. “Toes too!”
“Oh, this is great! Thanks, girls! I’ll bring you back a treat for doing this for me!”
“Ice cream!” Raven screams. “Jolly, yummy ice cream!” She starts hopping around the room.
My dad shakes his head.
“Jolly . . . where does she get this stuff?” he chuckles in bemused adoration.
Whatever. Barf me out. Dad leaves and now it is just us four girls: me, Leo, Raven, and The Bomb.
Leo and Raven paint toenails. Raven, of course, messes hers up and has to be redone. Leo freshens up Bommy’s nails. The Bomb is as gravely interested as ever. I pass.
Then Raven reads books to Leonie. Then she and Leo want to watch cartoons because nobody likes the Discovery channel except me. After a while it’s so stupid I get up and go find a book.
When I come back in the living room Raven looks up from the TV briefly. Leo is asleep.
“Let her sleep, Raven. She’s been sick so you be quiet, okay?” I tell her.
“’Kay.” Raven nods and chomps her gum. She’s already watching cartoons again.
I go out to the kitchen. I’m hungry. I bang around opening cans and heating up some soup. Then I sit and drink it from a mug. I face the lake and watch the colors it turns as the sky goes from blue to white to gold.
As I’m washing up the cup and thinking about something fattening to tempt Leo with, I hear the front door open and shut.
“Lee?” I ask. No answer.
“Leo?” I say as I come into the living room, where she is sacked out.
Raven has put a comforter over her. She’s all tucked in. That actually tickles me. She’s a nurse too, apparently. But where is she?
“Raven?” I say.
No answer.
“Raven?!” No answer. “Raven!”
I start to freak a little. I open the front door. No sign of her. I look from room to room.
“Raven!!” I scream. Leo wakes up.
“Whatsamatter?” She’s groggy.
“Raven! I can’t find her!”
I’m panicking.
Leo struggles to get up. She’s still really weak.
“No! You stay there! I’ll find her!” I bellow and then hear barking. It’s the Dogs of War, as I’ve taken to calling the pack across the lake. I head outside.
When I see what is happening my heart drops to my feet. I stand motionless on the porch trying to make sense of what I’m seeing.
There is a bear in the yard.
A Kodiak bear. Gigantic. Waddling around in between me and Raven.
Raven’s way up the driveway, near the garbage can that Dad set out to be picked up, which is probably why the bear is here too. Raven and the bear see me at the same time and Raven starts to cry. The bear turns back to her and that instant something shoves past me. I stagger. Noisily, it streaks by.
It’s The Bomb! Snarling and making an unholy racket, barking like I’ve never heard her!
The bear turns from Raven and looks at Bommy like it’s surprised and then rears upright on its hind legs and snarls, as massive and dark as the ancient trees that surround us. It’s going to attack her! Its teeth are enormous! I scream. Raven squalls louder.
The Bomb goes crazy! Every bit of her fur is standing on end, and she looks gigantic! She redoubles her efforts, charging and darting and snapping so fast and furious now she’s a blur. The bear swings and misses. Her eyes insane, Bommy charges back in, snapping her frothy jaws.
I rush inside past Leo, who is standing in the doorway wide-eyed and frozen with shock, and sprint to the gun cabinet, which is locked. Instinct takes over and I feel for the key that Dad used to leave on the top, out of reach. I unlock the cabinet and snatch a rifle. It’s unloaded.
I don’t know where he keeps ammo. I throw it down. Freaking useless! Omg, omg, OMG!!
I dash to the kitchen. I grab two big pots and run out, banging them and flailing and shrieking like a banshee. Diabolically dangerous for bears here!! Go AWAY!!
&nb
sp; The bear turns around to see me. I approach behind Bommy, screaming and jumping and freaking.
The bear stands up again. The Bomb rushes in and gets a good bite, right on the ass, which only maddens the bear, but it shifts directions and backs up, roaring. Snarling like a wild thing, Bommy darts in and out of reach. The bear swings at her with its giant lethal paw and misses again, narrowly. I continue screaming insanely and Raven hangs on to the mailbox, bawling.
Again The Bomb attacks and again the bear swings—I realize Bommy is making the bear back up, away from Raven, with every passing second.
The Bomb looks terrifying; she is huge. Her eyes are red and rabid. Her lips are completely pulled back from her bloody teeth, and her fur is standing on end. She looks like a Dire wolf. Her snarls resound, savage and deranged. She circles the bear rapidly and attacks again.
This time the bear is ready. It smacks The Bomb so hard she hurdles through the air. I scream hysterically but The Bomb is up immediately—and flies back into the fray. I pound the pots in a mad chaotic cacophony.
We scream and snarl insanely, and, abruptly—the bear runs off.
We stand, panting.
It’s suddenly silent.
Except for Raven. I see her shuddering convulsively, completely terrified.
I try to calm myself down so I can soothe her. I hold out my arms.
“Come ’ere, honey,” I say gently. My voice shakes. She runs to me, sobbing and panic-stricken.
I kneel down and wrap my arms around her in a huge hug. I won’t say bear hug. We stay that way for a long time. Her little limbs tremble. I just rock and hug her. We try to revive.
After clinging to me like I was a buoy, Raven pulls back and looks at me. I soggily smile at her. Maybe for the first time, on purpose, as my sister.
“Rylee . . . do you like me now?” she quavers, tentatively. She sniffles. Her little chin quivers.
I sob-laugh.
“Yeah, honey,” I say, and start crying, “I like you . . . I really like you.” I hug her again.
The Bomb comes up and snuggles us. She is whimpering. I put my arm around her too, and pull back abruptly. The Bomb’s side is covered with blood! She’s trembling too.
“Oh, baby,” I breathe. “Come here, good girl . . .”
The bear really got in a nasty one when it swiped her. There are four deep gouges that run down her shoulder. The flesh is laid open. I think she needs a vet.
Leo appears. She’s dragging the shotgun. She drops it and staggers out to join the group hug.
We call my grandma and they rush back to take The Bomb to the emergency vet.
She gets twenty stitches. Then they knock her out so she doesn’t chew them. They want to keep her overnight. We will return in the morning for her.
“Why did you go outside, Raven?” my grandma asks.
“To throw away my guuuuuummm!” Raven wails. “It was sticky!”
“You need to tell us if you go out. It’s important!” Grandma nods earnestly.
“’Kay! Sorrrryy!” Raven sobs. GramMer takes her in her arms.
“It’s okay . . . everything is going to be just fine, twinkle-toes.” She rocks her. “My sweet girl.”
For the first time I do not feel a sick stab of jealousy. What a relief!
Everything is going to be just fine.
T-minus seven days and counting.
Sorry, I just watched Apollo 13. What I mean is there are seven days left till graduation.
We are flying home tomorrow.
It’s all very complicated, but here goes: the uncles are flying us back to Seattle. It will be easier on Leo that way. The van is supposed to be ready in about two days, which isn’t enough time to get it, drive back, and prepare for graduation. Shane is going to fetch The Bomb in his airplane so she doesn’t have to fly on a commercial airplane, because she’s recovering too.
Can I just say this has been a hard trip!
Shane and GramMer and Bommy will then fly to Greg, get the revamped van, tell him thanks and bye, then the two of them, GramMer and Shane, will drive it from there to here, bringing The Bomb back to us—hopefully in time for graduation, which they both intend to attend!
Then we will all live happily ever after.
So that’s good.
It’s time to talk to my dad.
“I don’t think you should come to graduation, Dad,” I say.
Relief flashes across his face. Then he pulls it into a frown.
“Oh, Rylee Mar—Rylee, are you sure?” He tries to look like someone who wants to go.
Sorry, Bucko, not buyin’ it.
“Yeah, no, it’s okay. But listen—you need to tell Mom. I don’t want to.”
I eyeball him with my best guilt-trip face. It’s pretty good; I learned from the master.
He nods remorsefully. Hangs his head.
“I know. I will.”
“When?”
He looks at me like a kid who needs help on a test.
“When do you think?” he asks.
I look at him. As a grown-up daughter, for the first time. Really look at him. At my tragic, well-intentioned dad, who has been so deep in trouble for so long, and who tried so hard but always ended up failing or getting hosed and again I am reminded of a lost pet, trying to find his way home.
The poor old thing . . .
“Right away, Dad; call before I get home. Then come down for Paul’s graduation,” I say quickly, before I start to bawl. “That gives you a year for her to wrap her head around it. And bring Raven and Ruth.” I gently put my hand on his arm.
His face lights up. “O-kay!” he says, sounding very like Raven. “It’s a deal!”
It’s totally dull on the flight home.
We get bumped to business class for some random reason, which is cool. You can recline. The flight peeps bring the uncles cocktails, for money, and ginger ale for us, on the house. Cheers.
Flying in a big plane is nowhere near as amazing as Shane’s plane rides. My stomach churns when I think he will be down in one week to see us “matriculate,” even if it is just for Leo and not me.
Leo is already much better. She’s moving around normally and has gained back a little weight. She’s still too skinny but regaining her health.
And, even though officially she has left school, she is “walking” too. She went through so much in high school she wants to leave with a sense of closure. Plus, Beau’s giving the graduation speech! Are you kidding? She’s up for graduation and so am I.
I look to see how she’s doing. She has the window seat. She stares out the window, remotely. Her face is so sad I am concerned.
“You cool?” I inquire. “Feel okay?”
“Yeah.” Her gaze lingers on the distance.
“Dude, there seems to be a disturbance in the force. What’s up?”
She continues looking out the window and doesn’t answer right away. When she does, her voice is forlorn. “I’m gaining weight, Rylee. They will never use me now . . . I don’t think I can be a super model.” Her face, which is growing incredibly beautiful as her features once again fit, is unhappy to the point of despair. “How am I going to ever repay your mom, Rye? Do you have any idea how amazing she is? No one, my own mom included, has ever treated me like she does. Like she doesn’t care how I look. It’s so relaxing! I promised myself the first thing I would do when we were rich is take her to meet Pope Francis and then take such good care of her.... I was going to take such good care of everyone.” She looks over at me miserably, and shrugs.
I just gaze at her with quiet affection. I habitually underestimate Leonie DuBois.
But then I rally.
“Leo, you are so sweet, but stop stressing! My mom isn’t even thinking about you repaying her! Maybe you don’t have to take care of everybody.... It could be your path is different than you thought. Just wait a while. Perhaps it will all become clear.”
“You sound like Shane.”
“I know. Remember when I was reading books
about Buddhism?”
“The one-eyed guy?”
“No, that was Odin. Different neck of the woods.”
“Um.” Leo looks doubtful. “Was that the one with The Goddess?”
“Nope, that was Wicca.”
“That was cool. I like that moon circle or whatever that we went to that one time.”
“I guess. It’s all just fairy tales. To me it felt like same-o, same-o.”
“Not to me. Is Buddha the elephant guy?” (I have a little stone statue of the elephant-headed god, among others, on my bookcase. I forgot to mention I’d started a “deities to die for” collection. Also an “extra-virgin god moms” collection.)
“No, that’s Ganesh and that’s Hinduism. And did you see the vid I sent you—where the elephant cried when he got rescued? Omg, girl, sign that petition! We have so much to answer for!”
“Rye, yes, no, don’t—I know, I sign ALL the petitions you send me. But which one is Shane?”
I snort. So fixed on the object of her affection.
“Buddha was the one who sat by the river and figured everything out. But not the chubby guy—that’s Budai, and he’s actually someone different. Buddha’s the dreamy-looking one who’s outside in gardens a lot. I like his mom, Maya, more. I pretty much like the mom myths best, what with the virgin births and all. I’ve noticed that’s kind of an industry standard for god babies. Anyway, Buddha’s deal was to not get attached, like to riches or a certain outcome. That’s exactly what Shane suggested to me, that time I told him about my dad. To expect nothing. Just let ’er go. Thus, Shane talks like a Buddhist.”
“A super-hot Buddhist!” Leonie smiles.
Mom and Beau’s mom are at the gate, waiting for us. I feel like a little kid when I see my mom.
I hug her like I’ve just gotten back from Mars. She smiles in delight at my unironic affection.
“You should go to Alaska more often!” she tells me.
We look into each other’s eyes. I can see that she knows. Dad finally called and told her.
I swallow hard. Her eyes are red, but dry.
“We’ll talk later,” she tells me, and smiles bravely. Then turns her attention to Leonie. I laugh.
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