The moment Griff’s back was turned, Robin slipped the thermometer out of her mouth, only putting it back in when she heard Griff climb the stairs.
Griff squinted as she held the glass tube up to the light then put her hand on Robin’s forehead. “You still feel hot, but this darn thing says you’re back to normal.”
Robin pushed the covers aside and started to dress.
“Don’t see why you’re so hot to trot about getting back to school.” Griff wrapped a wool scarf around Robin’s neck. “Didn’t think you liked the place.”
Robin wondered the same thing as the bus pulled up to the school and she saw Brittany and her gang of friends hanging around the front door. She looked for Brodie but couldn’t see him.
The other kids exited the bus, and the driver turned to her. “I haven’t got all day.”
Robin took a deep breath and got out. Her legs felt wobbly. She didn’t feel well, she didn’t feel well at all.
Seeing Robin, Brittany elbowed her friends. “Hey, it’s skunk girl!”
Robin tried to push past them. Who had told them? Who?
A girl’s face thrust itself in front of her. She was pinching her own nose. “Ew! She stinks!”
The other kids copied her, all pinching their noses. Robin put her head down and pushed forward, but the gang pressed into her, stopping her forward motion.
“Ska–unk. Ska–unk!” The kids chanted.
The bell rang, and the grenade of kids exploded in every direction. Robin stood for a moment, not knowing what to do. If only she could go home. Sighing deeply, she forced herself to go into the school. At least now maybe she’d find out who had finked about the skunks. Was the word out about the other animals too?
Zo-Zo ran up to her. “It was a mistake, I —”
Robin’s voice was raspy, but she got the words out. “I just got called ‘skunk girl’ by you know who.”
Zo-Zo shoved a finger under her thick glasses and rubbed one of her eyes. Both looked puffy, as if there were a bunch of tears behind the lids just bursting to get out. “It’s my fault,” she said. “I printed those stupid photos for Brodie, and somehow Brittany got her hands on them.”
Mr. Lynch was at his desk now and asking the class to come to order.
“Brodie feels terrible.”
Robin turned. Across the class, Brodie was looking at her. His eyes were one long lament.
Feeling woozy, she sat down at her desk. Suddenly, the world felt very slippery and unsafe. She tried to give herself a handrail of hope. Just because a bunch of kids knew didn’t necessarily mean her dad would find out, did it?
“As long as my dad doesn’t find out, that’s all I care about,” she whispered to Zo-Zo.
Zo-Zo’s lips twitched. “There’s more. It’s worse. Way worse. I —”
“Quiet!” Mr. Lynch ordered.
He started to teach a geography lesson. Robin sat in her chair feeling so dizzy and fuzzy-headed, she couldn’t follow the lesson. What did Zo-Zo mean, “It’s worse”? How could things possibly be worse? Various possibilities filled her mind. What if the authorities had been told? Would her family get fined? Would someone come and try to take all the animals away? What if they were taking them away right now while Robin sat in school? She squirmed in her seat and chewed her thumbnails until they bled.
Mr. Lynch droned on and on. Now she wished fervently that she’d stayed home. This was turning out to be the worst day of her life. And it wasn’t over yet.
When the bell for recess finally sounded, Robin bolted from the classroom, pulling Zo-Zo behind her. She led Zo-Zo around the corner of the school and pushed her against the brick wall.
“Tell me.”
Zo-Zo’s eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of her head. “Someone sent the photographs to my dad.”
Robin was confused. What did Zo-Zo’s dad have to do with anything? Then she remembered. Zo-Zo’s dad was the editor of the local newspaper.
Zo-Zo gripped Robin’s arm as if trying to steady herself. “He didn’t know we were trying to keep the animals a secret. So he printed the pictures. They’re going to be in today’s newspaper.”
Robin fell against Zo-Zo.
Now everyone in the entire town would know. In graphic detail. The thing she had feared most had happened.
Robin felt as if she were taking an elevator down into a cold and dark cellar. She put her face in her hands. Getting herself into trouble was bad enough, getting her dad into trouble was the worst, the very worst.
Zo-Zo winced then pulled her hoodie over her head. It was starting to rain. “Come on. Let’s go inside before we get soaked.”
Robin hadn’t noticed the rain. She let Zo-Zo pull her inside. They went into the cafeteria. As they passed, two kids held their noses.
For the rest of the afternoon, Robin sat at her desk and worried. Mr. Lynch was writing all kinds of things on the board, but she kept her head down, pretending to take notes. Her page was filled however, with only one word. “Stupid.” She wrote it and wrote it and wrote it.
She kept staring at the clock. She wanted the school day to be over but dreaded that too. She kept picturing her father and the way his face got splotchy when he was mad.
When the school day finally ended, Zo-Zo turned to her. “Want me to go home with you?”
Robin shook her head. Nothing was going to help now. She pulled up the hood of her coat and started walking.
Zo-Zo stared at her. “You’re not taking the bus?”
Robin shook her head and set off. It would take her over an hour to walk, but she didn’t care. She was in no hurry to get back. Her father was going to be furious, that she knew. Would he yell at her? Ground her? Keep her in her room for the rest of her life? She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans and forged onward.
She slowed her steps as she walked up the lane. Her father’s car was parked in the driveway. That was not a good sign. Normally he didn’t come home until an hour or so after she did. She winced and warily made her way to Griff’s. Maybe Griff would be able to tell her how mad her father was. Maybe Griff would go into the farmhouse with her. But Griff was not in her cabin. She must be talking with their dad about how to punish her.
Robin crept towards the house and let herself in the kitchen door. Her father was slumped at the table. Griff was sitting beside him, looking grim. The newspaper was spread out on the table. Even from a few feet away, Robin could see the photo of Mukwa. Beside it were photos of the squirrels and skunks.
Griff and her father turned to see her. Her father’s face looked haggard and sad — just as it had the day of her mother’s funeral.
She watched as he opened his mouth to speak. She expected his voice to be loud. But it wasn’t. In fact, it was so soft she could barely hear it.
When he spoke, he said only three words. At first, Robin didn’t think she’d heard them right. They were the worst words ever, and she wanted to shove them back into his mouth. She just stared at him, her jaw falling as he spoke, her eyes wide.
He said the words again. “I got fired.”
Chapter
Fourteen
In the days that followed, the house became strangely quiet. It had been like that after her mother had become sick, too, but the quietness then had been sad and damp somehow, like a foggy morning. This time, the quiet was as loud as a scream. And it had a long finger in the middle of it, a finger that was pointed accusingly at her.
Not that her father said anything. He didn’t. He just got quiet, deathly quiet. It was Ari who said the words Robin knew everyone was thinking. “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
Robin had cowered, hearing these words, but Ari was right. It was her fault.
Unable to stand how awful she felt around the farmhouse, Robin went to Griff’s often and made excuses to go down to the barn. Anything to avoid seeing her father sitting on the porch, hour after hour, staring at the lake, his eyes as lifeless as ashes.
One afternoon when
she and Zo-Zo and Brodie were in the library, marking the second round of contest questionnaires, Robin expressed, once again, how guilty she felt.
Zo-Zo looked stricken. “I’m the one to blame. I never should have taken those pictures.”
“No, I’m the one to blame,” Brodie said. “I’m the one who lost them. I can’t believe it. I feel so stupid!”
Zo-Zo rolled her eyes. “Come on, Brodie. You didn’t lose them. Brittany stole them.”
A pained expression filled Brodie’s face, and he looked away.
Robin was glad they felt badly. She wanted them to feel badly.
Brodie turned to Robin. “Do you think your dad’s going to be able to find another job?”
Robin shrugged. She didn’t think so, based on what she’d heard her father and Griff saying. “Right now, he’s not even looking. He’s just doing that staring into space thing, big time.”
Brodie looked down. “My dad stares into space all the time. But then he’s always got a beer in his hand. I can’t tell you how many times he’s passed out, and I’ve had to peel his fingers off the bottle.”
Robin saw the anguish in Brodie’s eyes and wished she could say something wise or helpful, but she didn’t know what that would be.
Zo-Zo grimaced. “My mom used to stare into space too. Then she left.”
Robin tensed. Her father would never leave them, would he? The word never clutched at her throat. She never would have thought her mother would have gotten sick either.
“Come on,” Zo-Zo said. “Let’s get back to our project.” She picked up the next questionnaire. “So, by now, thanks to us, every kid in our school has answered our questionnaire. Twice. Once before reading the ‘Green Extreme Factsheet’ and once after. Our job today is to see if they made any improvements!”
“Bet they have,” Brodie said.
“Oh, I almost forgot.” Zo-Zo shoved an envelope into Robin’s hands.
“What’s this?”
“It came with a letter to the editor supporting the animal shelter,” Zo-Zo said.
Robin opened the envelope. Three twenty dollar bills fell out. “Great. Food for the animals.” So far, Griff had been paying for all the supplies. Robin liked the idea of being able to help with that.
Brodie looked concerned. “You need money for the animals?” He took a few bills from his pocket. “For the bear … I don’t want him to go hungry.”
Robin smiled and tucked the bills into a special pocket.
Zo-Zo tapped her pen on the table. “Okay, let’s get marking!”
An hour later, they had scored the last questionnaire.
Zo-Zo clicked the pen against her lips. “Now, let’s record the second scores and compare them to the first — see if there’s a difference.”
Brodie beat a drum roll, and they began reading out the score differences for each person.
“Todd Smith, up two points. Courtney Lee, up six — wow! Josh Robbins, up three. Stacie LaFleur up ten! Rachael Conners up eight.”
When they were done, Brodie raised his arm in victory. “Wow, every single student got a better score but one.”
Zo-Zo cheered. “And some were better by ten or twelve points! That’s amazing!”
Brodie grinned triumphantly. “See? We have made people change.”
Robin smiled despite herself.
“So, who’s our winner?” Brodie sounded another drum roll.
Zo-Zo reviewed the list. “It’s a tie between Josh Eagan and Christie Parlett.”
“But we’ve only got one grand prize!” Brodie said. “That hundred dollar gift certificate.”
“Maybe they can split it,” Robin suggested.
The others nodded.
Zo-Zo flipped her notebook to a new page. “Now we’d better make some decisions about the awards assembly. Like who we should get to make the presentation to the winners! My dad says if we get someone important, we’ll get more press coverage.”
“How about the mayor?” Robin said. “Ed Goodings?”
Brodie frowned. “That’s not fair. We’re in the middle of an election. If we’re going to invite one candidate, we should invite the other.”
“Rick Kingshot?” Zo-Zo challenged. “You just refuse to see what a creep that guy is, don’t you? Even my dad says he’s a slimeball. But then he thinks all lawyers are slimeballs.”
Brodie’s face hardened. “That’s because your mother ran off with one.”
Zo-Zo’s face spun to one side as if she’d been slapped. When she turned back to them, her face was red. Slowly, loudly, she pushed her chair back and grabbing on to the sides of the desk with both hands, pulled herself up, and strode from the room.
Brodie closed his eyes. He blew air out his mouth so hard, the hair on his forehead shot up. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
Robin stood up. What was with this boy? He said things when he shouldn’t and didn’t say things when he should. She picked up her books and stood.
“Wait, I —”
Robin turned towards him. “Wait? Why? So I can listen to you defend Brittany and her dad? I don’t think so!” Briskly, she went off in search of Zo-Zo.
All the way home, Robin thought about her two friends. She didn’t blame Zo-Zo for running out of the library. What Brodie had said had been mean. Really mean. Was Brodie mean like that because his dad was drunk all the time? Or was he just mad because Zo-Zo had called Rick Kingshot a slimeball. He obviously felt he needed to defend Kingshot. But why? Just because the guy had bought him a bike? People were so complicated.
As she walked up the lane to her house, she heard shouting and stopped.
“It’s not fair,” Ari was shouting.
Robin edged closer.
“It’s got nothing to do with fair,” her father shouted back.
“All the other kids are going!”
“Ari, it’s a bush party!” Her father’s voice was calmer now. She could hear him restraining himself. “There’ll be drinking. And who knows what else. And no parental supervision. You’re only fourteen!”
“But I’ll be with Conner. He’ll —”
“Conner is sixteen, Ari. Sixteen! And from what I’ve heard, he’s not very responsible.”
“That’s not true. He’s the captain of the football team, he’s —”
“I don’t care of if he’s the class president, you’re not going!”
Ari made an infuriated huffing sound. “I hate you! ”
Robin heard her stomping loudly up the stairs. After that, the screen door to the front porch slammed, and Robin knew her father had stormed out to the lakeside porch to get back to his staring place.
She sighed and went inside. Quietly, she went upstairs to change. As she came into the bedroom, she could hear Ari sobbing.
Ari was lying on the bed. She turned quickly so she was facing the wall, but not before Robin had seen the agony on her sister’s tear-streaked face.
Robin changed quickly into her barn clothes. Rarely had she seen Ari cry like this. Griff’s words about her sister hurting came back to her. Should she say something? She wanted to, but she was scared to as well. What should she say?
She thought about it for a moment, then whispered, “Ari, are you —”
Ari moved closer to the wall, her shoulders hunched high. Just then the phone rang.
Robin turned and bounded for the phone. Her father, however, beat her to it.
His voice was still loaded with anger from his fight with Ari. Robin pitied the person at the other end of the phone.
“No, we are not a wild animal shelter.”
Robin crept into the kitchen on her way out. Her father was drumming his fingers against the wall. She could tell he was trying to calm himself.
“I know what the article said.… No, we aren’t rehabilitating wild animals. No. It was a mistake. No, I don’t know where else you can take it.” His voice got louder. “Listen, mister, there’s nothing I can do.”
His face reddened as he listened for a short
moment. Then he shouted, “If they euthanize it, it’s not my problem!”
Robin ran from the house, letting the screen door flap. She let herself into Mukwa’s enclosure and sat down. Her heart was pounding.
Griff, who was changing the straw in the puppy enclosure, came towards her. She gazed at her granddaughter through the slats. “You look like you’re about to blow a gasket.”
“Dad’s screaming at someone on the phone again.”
“Someone calling about an animal?”
Robin nodded. “Yes.”
“He hates turning them down. That’s the real problem. He loves animals, and I think it’s just about killing him not to help,” Griff said.
“Then why doesn’t he help? I mean, the worst has already happened, he’s been fired. He can do what he wants now.”
Griff took in a big breath, her nostrils flaring. “Beats me. I think he’s just so angry about everything, he’s like a big inferno. You can’t think straight when you’ve got that much anger inside.”
“Before that, he and Ari had a screamer too. You should have heard it.”
“I think I did. Part of it, anyways.”
“Ari said she hated him.”
Griff rubbed her jaw with her hand. “Oh, my!”
“She wants to go to some bush party! He said no.”
“Can’t blame him. Those parties usually get pretty drunk and disorderly. Besides, Conner is two years older than Ari. His hormones are pushing him hard. I don’t know if Ari’s old enough to withstand that yet.”
Robin wished she understood more about hormones. And why did they blast through teenagers, causing such havoc?
“You should have heard him on the phone. He yelled at the guy.”
Griff frowned. “Not good.”
“That’s all he does lately, scream at people or stare into space.”
Griff’s frown deepened. “He’ll get over it. He’ll get back on track. You’ll see.”
“What if he doesn’t?”
Griff smiled gently. “Don’t those ‘what ifs’ drive you crazy? They drive me crazy!”
Robin shrugged. It was just what her mind did.
Howl Page 10