Griff’s eyes were soft. “Mukwa will be going back to the wild soon. Then we can all relax. I don’t like the way his mom’s been prowling around. Makes me nervous. I know it makes your dad nervous too.”
Robin stroked Mukwa’s ears. “Once he’s free, will we ever see him again?”
“Hard to say. But if you do, he’ll remember. Bears have great memories.”
Robin thought about the mother bear. “What about the mother? What if she remembers? Won’t she want to kill me for taking her baby away?”
Griff swatted the air. “Nah! Bears have an uncanny sense of who to trust and who not to trust. I think she’ll just be glad to have Mukwa back.” She shook her head at the tattered state of Mukwa’s cast. “He’s sure shredded this thing.”
“Why do they put a cast on a broken bone anyway?”
“To keep the bones from moving around. They heal better when they’re still. That’s what your dad needs, some ‘still’ time. He’s had a lot happen this year.” She looked into Robin’s eyes. “He’ll pull himself together.” She broke into a grin. “I’ll get Owlie on the case.”
Robin scrunched her face doubtfully.
“You think ’cause Owlie’s dead, he can’t help? He may not have a body, but he has a spirit. A strong spirit.”
Robin didn’t know what to say, so she remained quiet.
“The Aboriginals say we each have an animal spirit, or what they call a ‘totem.’ That totem guides us, reminding us who we are.” Griff patted her heart. “Not ‘who we are’ like what your name is, but who you are inside.”
“Do I have a totem?”
Griff laughed. “I don’t think we’d have much trouble figuring that out! I’ll give you a clue. Yours is black and has a tail and is trying to teach you about water.”
“Relentless?”
“She and I have been chatting about how to get you feeling safe in the water again this summer, haven’t we, girl?” Relentless barked from a few enclosures over.
Robin groaned. She couldn’t learn to swim if she wasn’t willing to go near water, and she wasn’t. It was just too scary.
“I can see you’re loving that idea,” Griff said, tousling Robin’s hair. “We’ll see when the weather warms up. Meanwhile, don’t worry about your dad. He’s just pulled in two different directions right now. That logical mind of his is telling him to clear the animals out — after all, we are breaking the law. But there’s another part of him that truly wants to help them.”
“Last week we had calls about two abandoned birds, a hurt fox, then there was that loon that had a fishing lure wrapped around its leg.”
“You’re keeping a record of the number of calls, right?”
“Trying to,” Robin said. “I’ve counted thirteen so far! Nobody out there cares about whether we’re legal or not, they just want us to help.”
“Oh, did you see the paper?” Griff beamed. “There’s a letter to the editor actually supporting the idea of a wild animal shelter.”
“Yeah, Zo-Zo told me. Whoever wrote it sent in a donation.”
Griff’s eyebrows shot up. “Just goes to show that people do support us.” She made a thumbs-up sign. “Maybe that’ll make your dad feel easier.”
“I doubt it,” Robin said.
“Like the rest of us, he just doesn’t want any more bad stuff to happen. ’Cause when bad stuff happens, it kind of makes you nervous. You know that as well as anybody. I mean, you weren’t always afraid of water. Then something happened to get you scared. Want to tell me about it yet?”
Robin nodded. She felt ready now. “I almost drowned.”
“When? Not here —”
“In the city. At the pool. Ari and I were fooling around. She pushed me in and I swallowed a bunch of water. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t get myself to the surface, I —” Her palms started to sweat. Remembering was bringing back the panic. “Some lifeguard had to rescue me. They had to give me mouth-to-mouth re … resus …”
“Resuscitation?”
“Yeah.”
“Sounds awful,” Griff said.
Robin pumped her head up and down.
Griff was quiet for a long while. “Bad things happen sometimes. I think that’s why your dad’s being so careful these days. He just doesn’t want any more awfulness.”
Robin felt sympathy for her dad. She didn’t want any more awfulness either.
“Problem is, once you’ve had some bad things happen, it’s easy to be scared that other bad things are on their way.”
“Do you get scared?” Robin asked.
“Sure do. Right now I’m scared this situation with the animals is going to blow up in our faces! Which it could do so fast it would make your head spin. Think about it. We have wild animals without a permit — that’s against the law. The town officials aren’t going to let us do that forever. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the sheriff shows up on our doorstep one day.”
Robin felt her stomach do a cartwheel. “What would happen to the animals?”
The lines on Griff’s face tugged at each other, creating deep gashes in her face. Robin had never seen her grandmother look so old and battered. “I’m scared to think.”
Chapter
Fifteen
Robin ran outside in a pair of cut-off jeans and a T-shirt. After a cold, hard winter, it was so freeing to toss off her heavy jacket and boots and feel the freshness of the air slide along her face and arms. There was something so new and irresistible about this time of year. It was hard not to feel happy through and through.
She climbed on top of a huge boulder that overlooked the water. Relentless scrambled up behind her. She liked having the dog by her side again. Now that the puppies were older, Relentless could be away from them for longer periods. In fact, her father said that this was an important part of preparing them for going off on their own. Robin winced at the thought. Why did everything always have to change?
She sat with her back against a tall pine tree that stood regally in the middle of a rock, its long roots going down over the sides to the earth below. She could feel the heat radiating up into the backs of her legs. A light breeze streamed across the lake and fluffed her hair. She pulled the freshness of the air deep into her lungs and surveyed the lake. The ice had been gone for a few weeks now and with the sun’s reflection on its surface, the lake looked like a huge silver coin.
She wiggled her toes in her sandals. It wouldn’t be long now until summer. She repeated the word wistfully. Summer. She couldn’t believe it was finally coming. Last summer she’d still been in the city. With her mom. Her mom had been sick, but alive. That time felt so close and yet so far away. How could that be?
It was weird. Sometimes she couldn’t even picture her mom any more. Then, at other times, the memories of her would be so sharp, they’d jab into her like darts. That was why she had to keep her guard up, so the darts couldn’t go in.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of three Jet Skis charging out into the lake, carving deep grooves into the calm water. All of them had bright yellow flames down the sides, so Robin knew they belonged to the Kingshots.
“And so it starts,” Griff said, appearing beside her. She stared at the boats and shivered. “Wouldn’t that be a bit cold? Even in wetsuits?”
Robin watched the boats as they made big figure eights in the water. They seemed intent on creating as much commotion on the surface as possible.
“Don’t know why they can’t play out in the middle of the lake,” Griff said. “Away from the loons and ducks — and old people like me who want their peace and quiet.” She made a visor of her hand. “Seems like they’re at it kind of early this year.” She craned her neck forward. “Is that Ari on the back of Conner’s Jet Ski?”
“Yup.”
“I’m surprised your dad let her.”
“They had a big fight about it. Dad finally gave in.”
Griff thought for a moment. “Maybe he’s trying to make up for saying no to the bush par
ty.”
“Maybe. They fight all the time now.”
“I fought with my parents, tooth and nail,” Griff said. “It’s all part of growing up. Ari was acting like she had to protect your dad for a while there — it’s good to see her acting like a normal teenager again. Although don’t tell your father I said that.” She focused her attention on the boats again. “Is that Brodie driving the third one?”
Robin had been trying to figure that out since the boats had appeared. She shrugged. “I don’t think Brodie owns a Jet Ski.”
“Maybe Kingshot bought him one.”
Robin glanced at Griff sharply. “He already bought Brodie a bike.”
“I know. You told me. I’m sure Brodie could use someone acting in a fatherly way towards him. Every boy needs that.”
Maybe that’s why Brodie defended the Kingshots. They had become like a family to him.
Griff sighed. “If it were anyone else, I might think, ‘That’s nice — there’s a man doing something kind for a kid,’ but unfortunately, Kingshot only does things that benefit him. Conner, as far as I can see, is no different.”
Robin watched as the boats headed out towards Berry Island.
“All Ari talks about is Conner. She, like, calls him twenty times a day.”
Griff’s face bunched in concern. “That doesn’t sound like her.”
“I know. Usually the boys are after her. Not this time. She’s, like, crazy about the guy.” All her sister’s notebooks were covered with hand-drawn hearts with her and Conner’s initials in the centre. It was disgusting.
Griff was quiet for a moment. “A boy like Conner likes the chase. Doubt if he’ll stick around if that’s not there.” She grimaced. “Oh, I hate the thought of Ari getting hurt. She’s had so much hurt already.” She sucked in some air between her teeth. “But sometimes that’s what it takes to wake us up. There’s nothing like emotional pain to get us looking at what we’re doing.”
They watched as the jet skis landed on Berry Island.
“Soon it will be berry picking time,” Griff said. “Maybe we can get the whole family to paddle out there and pick some.”
No way, Robin thought. The closest she was going to get to water was the dock.
Griff shook her head. “What gets me is that Kingshot is in the middle of an election campaign, but he’s out there boating. Meanwhile, his opponent, Ed Goodings, is working himself to the bone for every vote. I’m going canvassing for Ed this week to help him out.”
A car honked. Griff stood up wearily. “Guess peace and quiet is not on the agenda today.” The car honked again. “Okay, okay, we’re coming.” She offered Robin a hand up. “Come on, let’s go and see who’s making all that racket.”
Robin followed Griff up to the farmhouse. There was a red car in the driveway. Who did they know that had a red car? No one she could think of.
“Who the heck’s that?” Griff wiped her hands down the sides of her jeans.
A small boy got out of the car. He was carrying a cardboard box.
“Uh-oh,” Griff said. “A cardboard box can only mean one thing!”
Robin didn’t know what kind of animal was in the box, but she was certain it contained one. “Dad will yell at them, you watch.”
“Maybe we can head them off at the pass. Come on.”
As Robin and Griff approached, a woman got out of the driver’s seat. “Is this the wild animal shelter?”
Griff opened her mouth to speak, but her son shot out the farmhouse door.
“No! This is not a wild animal shelter!” A vein in his temple throbbed.
The boy put the box on the ground and was about to open it, “We have a hurt —”
Robin’s dad cut him off. “I don’t care what you have. Take it somewhere else.”
“But he’s bleeding,” the boy said, his lower lip wobbling.
Another boy got out of the car. He was about fifteen. “Look, mister, just take a look, will you?”
Robin’s dad took a step towards the box but stiffened and stopped. “I don’t want to look. If it’s bleeding, you should take it to a vet.”
“You are a vet,” Griff said simply. “Have you forgotten?”
“You’re a vet?” The woman’s eyes widened with hope.
He nodded. “I am, or was. I —”
The woman looked at him. “We were told you would help! ”
Robin watched the Adam’s apple in her father’s throat go up and down.
“It’s an owl,” the boy said. “Just a little one —” Tears were spilling from his eyes.
“An owl?” Robin’s dad sank to his knees. He gently pulled back one of the box flaps.
Robin leaned in. The bird was just a baby, but it had huge, unblinking yellow eyes that were riveted on her father.
He stared and said in a hushed voice. “It’s a great horned, just like …”
“Owlie,” Griff said quietly.
Robin watched as the doctor in him took over. Within ten minutes, he had a temporary surgery set up in the barn and was pulling on a pair of plastic gloves. He threw a pair at Robin.
“Okay, girl, put your money where your mouth is. I’m going to need help.”
Robin ran to wash her hands. She smiled. The fire was back in her father’s eyes.
A few hours later, while the owl lay in recovery, Griff brought a tray with a teapot and several mugs out to the porch. She began to fill the cups. “It’s lemon and ginger tea. I think you’ll like it.” She passed a cup to the younger boy, Ben, then turned to the fifteen-year-old. “How about you, Josh, would you like some?”
The boy nodded.
When everyone had a cup, Griff shouted into the house. “Ari! Come and join us,”
Ari, who had returned a while ago, breezed onto the porch. She was wearing a tight pair of white Capri pants and a top that covered just a little more than a bra. The fifteen-year-old boy looked at her and sat up straighter.
“Ari, this is Josh,” Griff said. “And his younger brother, Ben.”
Ari glanced at them briefly then stared down the driveway. “I’m just waiting for Conner.”
Her father looked at her sternly. “You just saw him. What about your homework?”
Ari looked at her father innocently. “Don’t worry, Dad. I need a book from the library to get it done. Conner’s taking me. I won’t be long.”
The woman who had brought the owl raised her cup. “Here’s to you, Gord. For saving the owl.” Her eyes were bright with admiration.
Robin watched her father blush.
“That owl’s lucky. He’s definitely going to live. He may have trouble flying again, we’ll have to see.”
They all turned as a car sped up the driveway.
“Someone should get his muffler fixed,” Griff said, grimacing at the noise.
Conner braked hard, and the car lurched to a stop. He flicked a small cigarillo into the bushes.
Griff’s eyes widened. “He smokes?”
“Not really,” Ari said quickly, getting up.
“What’s ‘not really’ about what he just tossed into the bushes?”
Her answer was the sound of Ari’s shoes clacking down the wooden porch steps.
Squirm turned to his dad, who was watching Conner and Ari speed away. “What if the baby owl can’t fly? What will happen to it then?”
Robin waited for her father to jump in with his lecture about no more animals. She watched him thinking. Maybe he didn’t want to lecture them in front of company. Parents were like that.
“We’ll keep him,” he finally said. “I’m sure Owlie would love the company.”
“Yay!” Squirm cheered.
The mother stood up. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re welcome,” Robin’s father said.
Suddenly both boys were pumping her father’s hand and everyone was grinning.
“Can we come and see him?” Ben asked.
“Of course!” When the family was in the car, he added cheerily, “Check in
with us in a few days to see how he’s doing.”
When the car had disappeared, he turned to Griff.
“It sure felt good to be working again,” he said.
Griff’s eyes met his. “I can imagine. Caring for animals is who you are!”
He nodded. “Now all I need is someone to pay me for it.”
With sudden zeal, Griff slapped some money into her son’s hand.
He stared down at it. “What’s this?”
“What’s it look like? Money, honey!”
He whistled.
“The woman slipped it to me when you weren’t looking.”
He counted it. “She didn’t have to give us this much!”
Robin ran and got the donation money Zo-Zo had given her. “Here’s some more!”
Griff grinned. “See? You are getting paid.”
Robin’s father jerked up his hands. “This won’t buy groceries!”
“It will buy groceries,” Griff countered. “Some, anyway. Besides, there are lots of people out there with hurt animals who will pay you.”
“Yes, but we’re not licensed to keep the wild ones —”
Robin turned to Griff. She was sick of hearing about this license business. “Can’t we just get one?”
“We can try,” Griff said. “If your father agrees.” She waited for her son to reply, but he just looked away and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. She gripped his arm. “Gord, don’t get your knickers in a knot. Everything will work out. We just don’t see how yet, but it will. You’ll see. Have faith.”
His voice was suddenly loud and demanding. “Faith? After all I’ve been through? Where would I find that?”
Griff’s eyes rested on him calmly. “It finds you. But you have to let it.”
Chapter
Sixteen
Suddenly all of nature seemed to be bursting with aliveness. Each morning the birds chirped with such strength and ferocity that Robin couldn’t sleep past dawn. And each evening, the frogs that Griff called “peepers” thronged so loudly they kept her up for hours. Out in the fields, water gushed up through the ground, and streams appeared out of nowhere, gurgling their way down to the lake. And the sky sang with a blue so bright it made Robin’s heart swell.
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