Howl

by Karen Hood-Caddy

  She lay in the dark, her eyes wide. Was Ari really going to sneak out and go to the bush party? Should she tell her dad? Or Griff? But if she did tell, Ari would know she’d read the diary. And Ari would make her life miserable.

  Robin closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

  The next thing she knew, Griff was sitting on the end of her bed. Robin yawned and looked outside. The sky was pink as the day dawned.

  “You sure you kids are going to be all right, here by yourselves?” Griff rubbed her jaw with her large palm. She shook her head. “I’ve just got this skittery feeling….”

  “Ready when you are, Mom!” Robin’s dad called from downstairs.

  Robin shut her eyes. The word “mom” still took her breath away.

  “Coming.” Griff pulled herself up as if her body weighed a thousand pounds. “Be careful, okay? No shenanigans. No wandering around in the woods — that mother bear’s still around. And don’t let Squirm either. And do what your sister says.” She kissed Robin’s forehead. “I’ll make sure your dad takes his cell phone. See you tonight.”

  When she was gone, Robin slipped down under the covers. What good was her father’s cell phone when he never had it charged?

  Chapter

  Seventeen

  Robin’s room was bright with sunshine when she woke up for the second time. Knowing the animals would be clamouring for food, she dressed quickly, had some cereal, and went to the barn. The puppies were bigger now, and their hungry yapping was so noisy she decided to feed them first, just to get some quiet. Then she set the food out for Mukwa, who was playing on his swinging tire. As soon as the bowl touched the ground, he gobbled it up quickly. Did animals taste things? Here in the shelter, all the animals got the same thing, meal after meal, yet they always acted as if that particular food was their favourite delicacy.

  When Mukwa was finished eating, he kept nudging her.

  “Oh, I know what you want,” she said, pulling a small ball from one of her coat pockets. She’d brought it in yesterday for Mukwa to play with, and he’d remembered. It was true what Griff said about bears having great memories.

  “Bright boy,” she said, rolling it to him.

  Even in the short time they’d had him, Mukwa had grown bigger. And smarter. He knew his name and lots of other words, Robin was sure of it. She tossed the ball to him over and over, and even though his arm was still in a cast, he caught the ball easily. She loved being with him. It felt like a kind of privilege. After all, how many people ever got to be close to a baby bear? Besides, he was due to be released any day now, and she wanted as much time with him as she could get.

  After a good long play with Mukwa, she went on to feed the others. The goose was gone now, its neck completely healed, but they still had raccoons, squirrels, rabbits, and skunks. As always with the adult birds and animals, she kept her distance.

  “We want to keep wild things wild,” her father had told her over and over again. “If they get friendly with you in here, they’ll be friendly with others humans once they’re released. People aren’t used to wild animals being friendly. They might think the animal has rabies and shoot it.”

  That thought made Robin keep her distance from all the adult animals and birds. The babies, however, were a different matter. As Griff always said, “Babies are babies. They need love. Lots of love. So give them all you’ve got.”

  Robin did. She found there was nothing more satisfying than holding a tiny baby in her arms and feeding it. She didn’t know why it made everything else all right, but it did.

  She had just finished feeding the rabbits and was putting fresh straw in their enclosure when Squirm appeared. He was still in his pajamas, the ones with the dragonflies all over.

  “You ever going to take those off?” Robin asked.

  Griff had given him the pajamas a few weeks ago, and Robin didn’t think he’d taken them off since. He even wore them under his jeans when he went to school.

  “Want me to help with the pup —” He sneezed then sneezed again.

  Robin stopped what she was doing and listened to his breathing. There was a faint wheezing sound, she was certain. What if he had a full-blown asthma attack today when her dad and Griff weren’t there? She’d already checked to make sure his inhaler was on the fridge, but still, once he’d had such a bad attack they’d had to take him to the hospital. But that was when they’d lived in the city. He hadn’t had one attack here in the country. She should have been comforted by that thought, but then another one knocked that one right out of the ball park. What if that meant a huge one was on its way?

  Deciding that she’d better get Squirm to stay in the house and be quiet, she said, “Isn’t that Spider Boy movie on this afternoon?”

  “You’d let me watch that?” Usually they weren’t allowed to watch television in the middle of the day.

  “Just this once.”

  “But what about Ari? She’ll want that stupid show of hers.”

  Ari came up to them from behind. “I won’t tell Dad about the Spider Boy movie if you don’t tell him I’m going to study at the library.”

  Squirm nodded eagerly, but Robin said nothing. Yeah, the library. Sure.

  Ari shrugged. “Okay, tell. I don’t care. Dad will believe me anyway. He always does.”

  Conner’s car roared up the driveway.

  Squirm covered his ears. “When’s that stupid boyfriend of yours going to get his muffler fixed?”

  “What about your exam?” Robin shouted over the noise. Once upon a time getting good marks had been important to Ari. But obviously not to this girl who was acting like a drop-in from another planet.

  Ari shrugged.

  Conner was beside them now, a cigarillo in his mouth.

  Robin tensed. All she wanted was to get him out of there before he started a fire and burned the place down.

  “Hey,” he said, standing in front of Mukwa’s cage. “How’s my little bear rug?”

  Robin hissed at Ari, “If you want me to keep my mouth shut, get Conner out of here. Now!”

  Ari stiffened her back and turned. “Come on, Conner. Let’s go.”

  Squirm waved the air and started coughing.

  “He’s allergic,” Ari said as she left the barn. Conner followed.

  Squirm watched the car race down the driveway, then scampered up to the house. Robin went back to her chores. She finished putting fresh straw in two enclosures and had just started mucking out the raccoon cage when Josh and Ben rode up on their bikes to see the baby owl. Owlie the Second, as he’d been nicknamed, was able to fly but only very short distances. Robin’s dad was still hoping he’d heal enough to be released and soar into the skies as nature intended.

  Josh and Ben visited with the owl for a while then helped take all the puppies out for a walk. When they were putting the puppies back in their enclosure, Josh looked towards the farmhouse.

  “Is Ari around?”

  Robin sighed. She knew that look. It was the same look so many boys got when they liked her sister.

  “No. She’s off with her idiot boyfriend.”

  Josh looked disappointed. “Tell her I said hi.”

  “I will,” Robin said as she waved goodbye. Now why wasn’t Ari interested in a boy like that, she wondered as she returned to her cleaning.

  It was a hot day and very still. The animals seemed unusually quiet. In the heat of the afternoon, Robin took a short break and sat in the barn on a bale of hay. She was wiping the sweat from her forehead when she heard a strange sound. She tensed and grabbed the pitchfork. The mother bear? She craned her head around the barn door.

  “Brodie!” She dropped the pitchfork, hoping he hadn’t seen it.

  Brodie set his bike down and ran towards her. “They’re coming!” he shouted, his arms flailing.

  She could tell from his agitation that something was wrong, very wrong. “Who? Who’s coming?”

  “To close the place, you’ve got to —”

  This time, she blasted t
he word at him. “Who? ”

  “The sheriff!” Brodie was standing in front of her now, his hands moving like startled birds. “Mr. Kingshot had the sheriff in his office — I had to press my ear to the door, but I heard them talking.” He took a hurried breath and carried on. “The sheriff, he’s coming to clear the animals out — today! I ran here to tell you, if Mr. Kingshot finds out, I’ll be fired but —”

  Robin cut him off. “But we’ve got our application for a license in and —”

  “It doesn’t matter. You don’t have one now. I heard the sheriff say that.”

  “But there’s no place to take them!” Robin started to pace. “That means they’re going to put them to sleep. Euthanize them!”

  Brodie stared at her with astonishment. “Mukwa? No! ” He smashed his fist into the side of the barn. “Ow!” He jumped up and down, holding his hand.

  Robin straightened her back. “We have to stop them.”

  “But we can’t! It’s the sheriff, he’s like the police, he’s —”

  “I don’t care!”

  “He’ll have a gun!”

  Robin felt her whole body start to freeze up. Soon she wouldn’t be able to move at all. She forced herself to pace. She needed to keep moving.

  Brodie’s eyes were wild. “Let’s open the cages. Let them go. Let them make a run for it.”

  Robin’s mind raced through this possibility. The animals were there because they needed care. It would hurt them to be without that care. Some of them might survive, but others wouldn’t. They had to keep them here and protect them. But how? She jammed her thumb between her teeth and tried to think.

  Brodie’s eyes were desperate. “There’s nothing we can do!”

  Robin pounced on his words. “We have to try! It’s just like the eco thing. Remember, I wanted to give up and you told me that we had to keep trying. And we did. And we figured out what we could do, we —”

  Brodie cut her off. “But Kingshot is powerful, he’s —”

  “I don’t care! I have to do something!” She pulled herself up straighter. Saying those words made her feel stronger somehow.

  Brodie stared at her fiercely, his face white. He swallowed hard then checked his watch. “I’ve got to get back. Before they figure out what I’ve done.” He turned and hopped on his bike. In seconds, he was gone.

  Stunned, Robin watched him go. How could he leave her like this? With the sheriff on his way? But there was a more pressing question pounding her brain: what was she going to do? She had to figure out a plan, and she had to figure it out fast.

  Breaking into a run, she headed towards the house. She’d phone her father and Griff. They would know what to do. Halfway there, she stopped. What if her father told her to do nothing? She couldn’t stand that. Confusion overwhelmed her. She swayed from side to side, uncertain about what to do.

  She went to Griff’s. The moment she was inside Griff’s cabin, she felt herself calm. With shaking fingers, she called Zo-Zo’s number. It took her three tries to get the right numbers punched in. The phone rang once. Twice. Then three times. When Zo-Zo’s voicemail came on, Robin gushed her message into it.

  “Zo-Zo, come quickly. The sheriff is on his way — the animals, they could be —” The voicemail clicked off. Had it even taken her message?

  Now what? Think, Robin, think! The sheriff would be arriving any moment. What if she tried to talk to him, what if she tried to explain about the animals needing care.

  He’s not going to listen! a voice inside her harped. No one’s going to listen to a twelve-year-old!

  Her eyes shot up to the gun. With a gun, she could make him listen. With a gun, the sheriff would take her seriously. He’d have to. She reached up and took the gun down from the rack. It was heavy in her hands, and the metal felt cold. And mean. This gun had killed things. It had spilled blood. She wasn’t planning to shoot anyone but knew the gun would scare them off. That’s all she wanted. But what if her fingers slipped on the trigger?

  “Put it away,” Griff said quietly.

  Robin knew the voice belonged to her imagination, but she also knew this was exactly what Griff would say. And that Griff was right.

  She eased the gun back up on the rack, and relief flooded through her. But now what? Her eyes cast about the room desperately and stopped on the photograph of Emmeline Pankhurst. The woman’s blazing eyes bored right into her.

  “What should I do?” Robin whispered aloud.

  To her surprise, Emmeline told her. Not in words of course, but like an instant message that went from the suffragette’s brain to hers. And she decided right then she was going to take that advice. It was risky, dangerous even, but it was the right thing to do.

  She left the cabin and took Relentless to the farmhouse. She didn’t want the dog getting hurt. This way, she’d have both the dog and her brother out of the way.

  Squirm glanced up. “The movie’s great. Want to watch the rest with me?”

  “Sure,” she said. “I’ll just take care of some people who are coming.”

  Squirm nodded, his gaze staying on the TV. He was used to people coming and going.

  Determined now, Robin went outside. Her stomach felt like a gymnasium full of bouncing balls. She busied herself with the animals.

  She was cleaning the skunk cages when she heard the sound of tires coming up the driveway. She stopped what she was doing and listened. Most of the people who came to the animal shelter drove cars or vans, and their tires made light, gravelly sounds as they approached. This vehicle sounded heavy, its weight grinding against the gravel as it went.

  She peeked through the slats of the barn and saw the sheriff’s black pick-up truck approaching. It had a large trailer hitched to the back. The trailer had been brought along to take away the animals. Of course, she thought. He wouldn’t put them to sleep here. He’ll take them somewhere to do it. If she let him. But her plan was to stop him. No matter what. It was up to her now. The lives of the animals were in her hands. Fear clawed through her body. She felt shaky, but she got into position anyway.

  Chapter

  Eighteen

  By the time the big black truck stopped in the yard, Robin was prepared. She had shut the barn door tightly behind her from the outside, making sure the long bar that went across the whole front of the door was firmly closed. She leaned back now and felt the solid strength of the barn itself. In the stillness, she could smell the hay and the tangy aroma of the various animals. Usually, the animals made some sort of noise — grunting, licking, clawing, yipping, but at the moment, they were dead silent. Griff had told her once that animals were always the first to know about hurricanes, earthquakes, and other natural disasters. They were certainly sensing danger now.

  Robin stared into the cab of the black truck. Two men were sitting in the front seat. Both were staring at her. One had leaned so far forward, his nose was almost squashed against the windshield.

  Although she couldn’t hear them, she could see their mouths moving, and every once in a while, the pointer finger of the man in the passenger seat jabbed the air in front of him. What were they saying? Were they figuring out how they were going to arrest her? Would they use handcuffs? She felt so small leaning up against the barn. And vulnerable. Then she heard them laugh. It was the kind of laugh one of the bullies at school might make if a puny kid challenged him. That startled her.

  The sheriff and his deputy got out of the truck slowly, both slamming their doors at the same time. The sheriff was tall and skinny and had a shiny badge pinned to his shirt, just like in the movies. His deputy was smaller and so round in the middle that the material of his shirt strained against the buttons above his belt buckle.

  The sheriff pasted a smile on his face and approached her. Robin tried to find his eyes, but he was wearing dark sunglasses and she couldn’t see them.

  “Your dad around?”

  Robin shook her head. She was glad he’d asked her something that didn’t require words. She didn’t think she could
have spoken if she’d wanted to.

  “Don’t matter,” the deputy said to the sheriff. “We can tack these papers to the wall, move this little lady to the side, and get on with our business.”

  Robin bristled. Little Lady?

  The sheriff put his hands on his hips and watched as the deputy tacked the papers to the barn a few feet away from her.

  The deputy came and stood beside the sheriff, putting his arms on his hips as well. He looked down at Robin and spoke firmly but kindly. “You’re breaking the law, you know that, don’t you?”

  Robin wanted to speak up, wanted to tell them they’d put in their application already, that they would have their certification any day now, but she could barely breathe, let alone speak.

  The deputy crossed his arms. His elbows almost jutted into her face. He fired words at her. “We’re taking the animals out of here. Step aside.”

  Robin didn’t move. She couldn’t move.

  The deputy shifted from one foot to another. “You deaf, girl?” He looked at the sheriff then back at Robin. “Step aside!”

  Robin still didn’t move.

  The sheriff’s voice wasn’t as mean. “Now listen, little girl …”

  “It’s all right, Chief, I’ll just lift her out of the way,” the deputy said matter-of-factly. “You’re just making it hard on yourself.” When Robin said nothing, he shrugged, shoved the cuffs of his shirt up his arms, and came for her.

  Robin tensed. She could smell his minty deodorant as he moved his body close. His fleshy hands gripped her waist, then he jerked her up as easily as if he were lifting a small dog. Robin felt her feet come off the ground.

  Then the lifting stopped.

  “What the —” The deputy put more heft into his lift, tugging harder to pull Robin out of the way, but he couldn’t wrench her away. He put her down, and as he did he saw the thick metal bike chain wrapped tightly around her, fastening her to the metal bar that stretched across the barn door.

  “Crap!”