When Nika reached the crossing, she hid behind some bushes, looked down the inlet, and listened. There was no one. She ran across. The bear had been a little scary, but nothing like that creepy man. Why had he been poking around? What animal was he yelling about?
Back at Pearl’s, she sterilized her shoes and entered the screened and plastic-enclosed porch. Ian was half asleep on his sleeping bag, a large pile of books beside him. The pup was on Ian’s chest, wobbling on its stubby legs.
“Your turn,” he said, getting up and placing the pup on his bag, where it teetered and fell over. Ian directed her to the kitchen, and to the written instructions for making formula, now typed and posted on the cupboard door.
She concentrated on getting the formula proportions right and warming it to the perfect temperature. With the bottle in her hand, she stepped over the baby gate into the house.
“Ian,” she said, “I saw this guy with a long beard in a boat by Big Berry Beach. He didn’t land or do anything, but he swore a lot, saying he was going to shoot some blankety-blank animal. Then he drove his boat away.” She handed him the bottle.
Ian sat feeding the pup with his shoulders pulled forward, a worried expression tightening his eyes. “Did he speak to you or threaten you?” His voice was tense. The pup pulled away from the bottle, and Ian calmed him.
“Nooo,” she said, letting the word stretch and linger. She shrugged. “I thought he was just some drunk.”
“What did he look like? Did he have a gun?”
She had to think. Uncertainty kept her from giving a good description. All she could remember was the long pole. “No, I don’t think so.”
“You know he’s gone?” Ian asked, pacing toward the door, then back again.
“I think so, but I couldn’t tell. I was running. He started his motor.”
Ian paused and seemed to be thinking. “When you go over to the Big Island, find someone to go with you,” he said firmly.
“Okay.” His brisk manner startled her, as if maybe she had done something wrong.
Later, as they sat eating their supper of cold chicken and asparagus and leftover muffins, Nika said, “I thought of a name for the pup.”
“Tell me.” Ian passed her the honey.
“Khan,” she said. “You know, K-H-A-N, like a prince.”
When Ian didn’t say anything right away, she asked, “Do you like the name?”
“Perfect,” he said. He seemed to be thinking about something else. “A prince . . .”
She told him then the story of the Blue Wolf and what they’d read in school.
“Well, I hope he isn’t going to be like Genghis Khan, rampaging around destroying things,” said Ian. “Maybe our Khan will just conquer hearts.” She looked at him to see if he had really said what he said. Our Khan.
She had to admit, it was a cool thing to say.
That night she prepared formula for the last feeding before going to bed. After she came back to the porch and sat down, Ian handed her the pup. She settled the frantic little bundle between her left arm and her body and rubbed the nipple on his lips. There was energy in his grab, and he sputtered as he squeezed too hard again. She gently inserted her finger into the corner of his mouth to release the hold and started again. This time he drank it down in steady gulps.
“Well done, both of you,” said Ian, staring with admiration at the pup, who looked at them with two open milky blue eyes. Before long Khan’s eyelids slumped, and he curled into the sheepskin, where he fell into a milk-induced sleep.
“Maybe we’ll sleep tonight,” said Nika. Ian laughed and gently touched her on the head as he stood up and crossed the room.
The tan wolf hid in the shadows of the forest. Before many days passed, hunger drew her back toward the pens. Hearing angry shouts again, she ran. The sounds of snapping and booms fell behind her. This time she angled up a rocky hill following the smell of water. As she came out of wind-fallen trees, she saw the ground fall away to a lake below. She scrambled down, leaped into the water, and swam toward a nearby island. Overhead an eagle circled, screeching. Its shadow slipped across the body of the fleeing wolf.
Chapter Eight
What was that high-pitched wail? Nika briefly opened her eyes in the dark, then closed them. Curling away from the sound, she pulled deeper into her bag. She just wanted to go back to sleep. She was sliding back into a dream.
There was no sound in Nika’s dream. She and her mom and Randall were sitting on the ground beside a waterfall in smog-filled southern California heat. Her mom smiled, her mouth moving with lost words. Her long wheat-colored hair coiled over her shoulder. Nika looked at the aqua blue pool beneath the falls. All three of them stood and pulled off their T-shirts. Nika’s new bathing suit was bright red. Randall’s blue shorts looked three sizes too big on his small bony body. Nika ran to be the first one in. The cold water sparked across her hot skin. She smiled as she rolled in the comforting arms of the water. Then through the underwater blue she saw her mom swim away, her outline lost in a blur of water. In just a second of time, her mom was gone. Nika kept swimming, trying to follow, wanting to shout out, but she couldn’t. Then a strange high-pitched sound traveled through the water, and she pulled to the surface and gasped.
“Nika?” said a low rumbling voice.
Where was she? Why didn’t her mom come to wake her? What was that sound? She was so tired.
“Nika, are you okay? Nika, did you hear the pup howl?”
Again, out of the darkness came a thin high-pitched sound. Suddenly she knew where she was and sat up. Ian clicked a switch, making an island of light in the corner of the porch. Out in the middle of the floor, all by himself in a pile of straw, was Khan, his head tipped up, sitting, his little front legs bracing him. He let out another miniature howl that turned into a whine at the end. She stood up and walked over, plopping down near him. She could feel the cold floor through her sweatpants. When Khan discovered she was there, he staggered up to her with bouncy steps.
“Look, he’s trying to run,” she said to Ian, who had returned to his bag. She wasn’t the only one who was completely worn out.
“He howled off and on for about five minutes, but I guess you didn’t notice,” mumbled Ian from his bag. “You’ll have to put that in your log. First howl at twenty days old.”
The pup snuffled up into her lap. “And,” she answered, “he’s hungry.”
“I’ll do the honors.” Ian slowly unfolded from his bag and stretched before going into the kitchen.
So many changes had happened since the pup’s eyes opened. It was hard to believe it was already May twentieth. Feeding Khan every two hours, and dozing on the floor, had worn out both Ian and Nika. Pearl was due home in a couple of days, and Nika was looking forward to her help with Khan. While the pup slept, she’d been plowing through Ian’s stack of books on wolves for her science report, making notes on cards. She couldn’t believe how many he had on the subject. She wrote new notes every day, such as “Pups are in the neonatal stage from birth to when eyes open.” And “Wolf pups use all of their senses to identify and bond with their caregiver.” Khan could already tell her apart from someone else, just using his sense of smell.
Today after she finished logging pup behavior, Ian called from the kitchen, “Breakfast!”
As they ate, he laid out the day. “Lorna is coming to pup-sit today. I have errands in town, and thought we would take the boys with us. You can spend some time with Randall, get to know the town a little, and take a break. Pup care is pretty demanding.”
“Not Lorna,” Nika said. “I don’t mind, really. We can leave him once Pearl comes back.”
Ian shot her a look. “Yeah, I know, but Lorna is eager to help, and Dave would like her to have the experience. We can show her the routine before we go.”
Nika stabbed her fork into the yolk of the over-easy egg and watched it spill onto the white. What could she say? Ian had this thing about needing a team. “Why do I need to get to know the town?
” she asked.
He just looked at her and delivered a slice of buttered toast. “Lorna should be here by ten.” He cleared his plate. “Your turn to wash the dishes.”
For a minute she contemplated returning to her bag for a few more minutes of sleep, but then she’d just have to wake up again. She clunked the dishes and pans around loudly in the hot soapy water.
By the time she was finished, Nika could hear Lorna’s loud chirpy voice as she was crossing the rock ledge. Then the front door thumped shut, and she heard voices talking, and footfalls in the living room.
“Hiieee,” Lorna said. Nika nodded from where she slumped, her elbows on the kitchen counter.
As Lorna and Ian approached the door to the porch, Nika glanced over her shoulder and called, “You gotta do your shoes!”
“Oh, that’s right. I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me, Nika,” Lorna said, smiling with her perfect white teeth. She stepped quickly to dip her shoes into the bleach solution at the porch door, grinning at Ian the whole time. Was Lorna trying to impress Ian? Nika wondered. After all, he was single. And not bad looking for forty-two.
Lorna listened open-mouthed to Ian’s instructions about how to handle the pup. Not that she paid attention. She bent down and leaned into the wooden box to grab the pup.
Wouldn’t do that, Nika thought, but didn’t say anything. The pup squealed and growled and snapped, jamming his short legs into reverse.
Ian looked at Nika, who rolled her eyes upward.
Using a patient teacherly tone, Ian said, “So, Lorna, like I said, maybe it’s best if you let him come to you. Just sit for a while and when he comes out, find something to attract him. He likes a pine branch or dog toys like the stuffed lobster. Don’t play tug or let him bite on you. He should be hungry in a couple of hours. There’s formula in the fridge. Warm it in hot water in a pan—just like you would for a baby. Lay him on the stuffed bear to feed him the first time since it’s familiar and it’s furry. You’ll be fine. He’ll sleep most of the time.”
“I’ll stay, too,” said Nika quietly, appealing to Ian with narrowed eyes.
“Nope, you’re coming with me,” he answered, his tone of voice like a closing door.
They picked up Thomas and Randall at the Camerons’ dock and sped off across Anchor Lake. Randall sat up front next to Ian on one of the large cushioned seats. An awning covered the front part of the boat. Randall had his eyes on Ian and was grinning. It was sunny and windy and cool, and Nika was glad she remembered her anorak this time. It was still May, and while many days had been almost like summer, she had learned the weather could change fast. She tucked her arms inside her life jacket and looked over at Thomas beside her in the stern. When the boat had first picked up speed, their faces got wet from spray. They both laughed and ducked down. The lake ahead opened into a beautiful silver expanse, chiseled by waves. The boat bounced and thumped the waves. When Nika glanced over at Thomas again, he pulled down his wet baseball cap and grinned, showing a mouthful of braces.
When they were partway into town, Ian called loudly over the sound of the engine and the splashing waves, “I’m going to buzz by that eagle’s nest I told you about!”
They arrived at the back side of a small island, across a narrow passage of water from the town of Red Pine. Ian cut the engine and pointed up. The eagle’s nest was at the top a giant white pine. It was as big as a queen-size bed, made of sticks woven together and balanced on three heavy top branches.
“This year two chicks hatched,” he said.
He handed the binoculars back to Nika. Randall slipped in back to sit beside her, eager for his turn to look. Nika could see something brownish moving, maybe a head, just over the edge of the nest. She handed the binoculars to Thomas.
“Looks like a chick, maybe,” Thomas said, as the boat idled in a low rumble, rocking with the waves. It was hard to keep the binoculars steady.
“Guys, look quick! One of the adults!” Ian pointed to a white pine to the right of the nest tree. The bird lifted high into the air, dipped its pure white head, then shot downward, hitting the water with its talons extended. As the eagle pulled from the lake, shedding a curtain of water, a fish more than half the length of its body hung from its grasp. With long swoops of its powerful wings, the bird carried its prize to the nest.
“Dinner for the kids,” Ian said. Two small scruffy heads poked up from the nest.
“Who’s feeding them? Is it the mom or the dad?” Nika asked.
“They both feed the chicks. It could be either one.”
As they rounded the end of the island, heading toward the town docks, Nika thought about how amazing it was that a dad eagle actually brought food to his chicks. She never knew that before.
Since Thomas lived in Red Pine during the school year, he knew every inch of town and seemed excited to show Randall and Nika around. The three of them set off to find hot dogs and ice cream, agreeing to meet Ian back in front of the hardware store at three-thirty.
They ate lunch in the park next to the ice cream place. Two gray jays perched on the bench beside them, cocking their heads and politely accepting bits of food.
Thomas leaned toward Randall and Nika and said, “You two want to go see the crazy man of Red Pine?”
Nika’s mom had taught them never to make fun of people who were different. She and Randall just looked at each other, then back at Thomas without saying anything.
“Yeah, well,” Thomas said, sensing their hesitation, “actually, we wouldn’t really talk to him or do anything mean, but he’s got lots of wild animals in cages. The authorities are always trying to find a way to take his animals away. I guess he used to run a game farm back in the dark ages.”
Nika remembered what Ian had said about the man who captured wolf pups to sell, who once had foxes. Could this be the man who had taken Khan’s siblings, who had killed Khan’s mother? “Let’s go,” she said, feeling a blaze of anger.
Thomas stood up, and they started to walk, dumping their garbage in a nearby can. “My dad says this guy likes animals better than people. Except his cages are too small and he starves them when he can’t feed them.”
“What’s his name?” Nika asked as they followed Thomas out of the park.
“Bristo. I never heard him called anything else. Just Bristo. He has a potbelly, and a long beard, and he yells at kids.”
Nika remembered the man in the boat off Big Berry Island. She felt a chill.
“What animals does he have?” asked Randall.
“Some funny-colored foxes, I think. Then the wolf he just got, a big dog, some skunks that don’t stink, raccoons, and a mountain lion. I heard sometimes he sells wolf puppies to people for pets. My dad says it’s not only illegal but they make bad pets. He says people hardly ever keep them once they’re grown.”
Thomas led them up the main street, turning after several blocks onto an unpaved street where the houses got more and more dilapidated as they walked.
Finally they approached a decaying wooden fence that ran along the street, then cut back to connect with a shack made of unfinished gray boards. It was in the last row of houses. Tall trees hung over the bare lot beside the shack. Old machine parts lay about, sunken in tangled grasses. Hand written No Trespassing signs were posted on the wooden fence next to other signs with misspelled words about the government and freedom and taxes. Apparently the same freedom didn’t apply to the animals he kept. Through missing slats in the fence, Nika could see pens made with rusty wire or chain link. A strange cough-scream from one of the pens caused them to stop so fast, Nika almost fell.
In a quiet voice Thomas said, “It’s better to walk right up to the cages in the open, rather than sneaking. I’ve heard stories of buckshot tearing through the leaves over kids’ heads when they spied from the bushes.” With Thomas going first, they went around the end of the rickety fence, past the shed, and walked slowly across the bare yard.
They didn’t see anyone, so they kept going toward the pens. The f
irst pen was the size of a small bedroom. A crooked wooden lean-to huddled in one corner under the shade of a scrubby pine. On the roof of the lean-to was a cougar. He must have made the cough-scream noise they’d heard. Nika let herself breathe again when she saw the heavy wire fencing that went over the top of his cage as well as along the sides.
They stood away from the wire and watched the cougar’s tail make question marks in the air. After a while the tail relaxed and just twitched at the tip. The animal never moved. His sand-colored eyes looked straight past them, through them. He was skinny and worn like an old fur coat.
“Kinda creepy,” said Randall. “He just stares. Maybe he’s sleeping with his eyes open.” He moved behind Nika.
Past the cougar cage was a smaller cage with foxes in it. One of them was almost black. They were splotchy and skinny, not like storybook foxes. They paced constantly back and forth with a smooth gliding motion, wheeling around when they got to the corner. Thomas squatted down to talk to them. Instead of stopping, they ducked away, their gaze sharply focused on something in the distance. Nika followed their gaze. Nothing was there except a rocky field and some dead grass. Maybe they were looking at freedom, she thought.
They could see other pens behind the first two. In one was a flash of black and white. In another, four raccoons were pressed together in a small cage. They lowered their heads, staring from the shadows.
When one of the raccoons hissed, Nika said, “Let’s leave.”
“You kids get outta here,” a voice growled from behind the cougar’s pen, making all three jump. They hadn’t heard any footsteps. They turned and froze, as a man walked slowly toward them. He had a shaved head, a long untrimmed beard, and a dirty shirt that puckered between too-tight buttons.
It was the swearing man she’d seen off Big Berry Island. As in a bad dream, Nika wanted to run, but her muscles turned to rubber. She lowered her head, hoping the man wouldn’t recognize her. Randall grabbed Nika’s arm, and Thomas bravely stepped forward with a cautious smile.
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