by Nancy Hartry
“It is mine! I recognize the scratch under the flicker. I’m sure I had it at the party. Didn’t you say I had my lighter at the party? And how could it have gotten on the island?”
“Honestly, I can’t remember. None of this makes sense.”
“Someone must have stolen it. Or I must have dropped it at the party and someone picked it up.”
“But why?”
“Maybe to get me in trouble, you know, to make the evidence.”
“Evidence of what? It’s crazy. What should we do? Who should we tell?”
“Let me think.” Yvette chewed the skin on her thumb. “We can’t tell anyone. Harcourt would have me arrested. And you, too.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Nothing, but Harcourt would use any excuse to get rid of us. He hates us both. And I hate him, too!”
CHAPTER 7
“W here are my pants?” Kerry said first thing the next morning, as she rooted around in the bottom of her sleeping bag with her toes. She fished for her bra and underpants. “Who said last night that I’d stay warmer if I slept naked? Who was that idiot?”
“Me. Did you keep your socks on?” Yvette asked, yawning.
“Of course I kept my socks on, I’m not completely stupid. You look like I feel. You okay?”
Yvette squeezed her eyes shut. “I can’t stop thinking about my lighter. Why is this happening to me? It’s a nightmare; it makes me sick. And yes, you should have taken your socks off, that’s why you were cold.”
Kerry put her undies on back to front, considered leaving them that way, then started again.
“You look like you’re making out with the entire football team under there!”
Kerry stuck her head out of the mummy bag and gulped some air. “It’s cold.” She did her bra up at the front and shifted the fastener around to the back, cringing at the icy touch of the underwires. Then she wriggled into her frigid hoodie and her jeans, stinking to high heaven of wood smoke. “Do I have to shake out my boots for snakes and spiders?” She pretended she was only joking, but tipped them over anyway when Yvette wasn’t looking. “I need a shower.”
“You could go for a swim.”
“A polar bear dip, you mean.” Kerry flipped up a corner of the tent. “No wonder we’re cold; there’s frost on the ground! How can that be? Doesn’t the frost put the fire out?”
“Fire can survive winter in the ground, feeding on the oxygen around the tree roots and popping up in spring,” Yvette said. “Trust me—somewhere out there, water is boiling.”
“Well, it sure isn’t in here.” Kerry snuggled back into her sleeping bag and hugged Rover. “Wake me up when it’s over.” Yvette held a piece of white bread slathered with peanut butter under her nose. When Kerry sat up, she handed it to her and made another for herself.
“I’m sick of this crappy food. How come it doesn’t bug you?” said Kerry.
“If you work at it”—Yvette crossed her eyes—“peanut butter tastes like avocado. We’d better get going. The guys will want coffee. After being out all night, that’s all they care about. You could serve it topless and they probably wouldn’t notice. Yeah, on you they for sure wouldn’t notice.”
“Very funny.”
They went over to the cook tent, and Yvette gathered up some green garbage bags of canned food for the guys working in the field. As she went out the door she said, “Boil the water, add the coffee, and when it’s done, pour in cold water to sink the grounds. Voilà, coffee, and it better be good. See you later.”
There wasn’t a coffeepot and there was no town water. Kerry seized an enormous pail and went down to the shore, where water striders wended their way in and out of duckweed blooms. This water is disgusting, she thought. She hopped into the steel boat, rowed out about fifty feet, and peered deep into the green lake. She sank the pail with both hands and pulled it up quickly, trying to wash out the surface debris, but only managed to slosh water into the bottom of the boat while wrenching her back.
After hauling the water back to the cook tent, she pumped up the Coleman stove and lit the gas, filling the tent with the sickly sweet smell of naphtha. The water pail was so big it covered two burners, and she slapped on a flat lid that didn’t quite fit. How much coffee do I put in? How much water is in there? She tried to imagine the pot filled with coffee cups stacked one on top of the other. There had to be at least forty-eight cups. She read the package instructions, then got out a tablespoon and tried to do the math. When the water finally hit a rolling boil, she found bits of grass and mosquito larvae rising to the surface, along with sprigs of duckweed and seed fluff. It looked like a witch’s brew. Giving up on the math, she dumped in a full pound of coffee. Now the grounds were bubbling to the surface. How long do I cook it? she wondered. Where’s Yvette?
The brew looked too pale, so Kerry dumped in another bag of coffee, and the tent began to smell yummy. She looked around for a strainer—how else to get rid of the grounds? Maybe the guys could strain the coffee through their teeth or their mustaches. Yuck. The coffee boiled and boiled, until the gas started to psst, psst and finally ran out.
I did it! She ladled out a scoop of muddy coffee and found it full of brown grains like sand. Yvette had said something about cold water. Kerry drizzled some cool water from the drinking bucket across the top of the pot, but the coffee was still murky.
“How’s it going?” Yvette was back. She inhaled the steam from the coffee like some wheezy kid leaning over a vaporizer. “Smells good.”
“No thanks to you,” said Kerry.
“Now you have to shock it with cold water to settle the grounds.” Yvette dumped half a bucket of water into the coffee.
“Won’t it be cold now?”
“Not if it’s done right.” She dipped in a plastic mug, went outside, and held it up to the light, swirling the coffee, nosing it as if it were wine. She took a sip and swished it around her mouth, slurping in air and finally swallowing.
“It’s okay?” Kerry was twisting a tea towel in her hands.
Yvette gave a little shudder. “Dahling, it’s mahvelous. Let’s hope the men are half Turkish, because it packs a wallop.”
“Knock-knock. Are you decent?” Didier came in carrying a cooler, muscles bulging, damp hair tousled over his forehead.
Yvette poured another cup of coffee, added a tablespoon of sugar straight from the sack, and handed it to him. “Kerry’s little pick-me-up to wake you up.” He took a tentative sip.
“Mind the minnows,” said Kerry. She checked the time on her phone, the only thing it was good for. It was only 5:35, and she already felt as if she’d worked a double shift.
Around two o’clock that same day, Kerry was buttering bread for sandwiches while Didier opened cans of pork and beans. “Didier, why are you here?”
“What kind of dumb-ass question is that? There’s only one reason to be here. It’s all about making as much overtime as you can.”
“Harcourt says he’s not paying us overtime.”
“You’re working on the fire now, so it’s got nothing to do with him. Make sure you keep track of your hours.”
“Is money the only reason?”
“What else?”
“Well, I thought maybe you liked doing something important, like saving the forest.”
“You’re so naive. Mostly it’s not about saving the forest. Fire is a natural part of the ecosystem, and nature’s way of regenerating certain species like jack pine. We’re trying to save homes and timber, transmission lines, and whatever else is valuable. It’s all about money. It always is.”
“Sorry for being so dumb.”
He shrugged. “You can smarten up, if you’re open to it and don’t act so superior.”
“I act superior?” He nodded. “I don’t mean to. It’s just that I’m shy, and people don’t get me.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes you act like you’re from Toronto—”
“I am from Toronto.”
“Most of us don’t li
ke down-easterners. It was probably some useless down-easterner that started the fire.”
“Help me out here. You’re from Ontario too.”
“We should be part of Manitoba. Northwestern Ontario is closer to Winnipeg than Toronto. All’s I’m saying is, maybe you should mix more with the guys, and stop giving people those looks like they’re stupid.”
“I didn’t realize. Thanks for the advice.” I think. He’s so direct.
“Anytime.” Didier ruffled her hair as he went out. “Besides, you’re cute. You remind me of my kid sister. I’m watching you.”
Just great, she thought. I’m like his kid sister and, worst of all, I’m from Toronto. Some things I just can’t change.
She could hear raised voices. As they got closer, she realized that Yvette was arguing with Harcourt.
“Yes you can go out in the boat and get fresh water. No you can’t have a spare radio. There are none.”
“If we ran into an emergency, at least a plane could come and check us out.”
“I don’t have time for this garbage. If you’re refusing to work, you’re outta here. Two less people for me to worry about.”
Kerry peeked out the tent flap. Yvette was steamed and counting to ten. “Okay, we’ll get the water but we won’t go out of sight of the camp,” she said in a calm voice.
“You’ll go as far as you have to go to get fresh water. The last thing I need is an outbreak of beaver fever. There’s a spring on the island northeast of here. You’ll find it. And don’t take all day about it.”
Within an hour they were on the water, with Yvette at the tiller. “Move up,” she ordered. “And put on your life jacket until we’re away from the dock. Don’t give Harcourt any more reason to be on our case.” She gave it some gas and shouted over the roar, “Look over there at two o’clock.” A great blue heron skimmed the waves and rose to land on top of a pine tree.
Kerry relaxed as the wham wham of the boat on the waves subsided. It was so green in the north, and the dazzle of light on blue water made her squint. Occasional stands of white birch looked like toothpicks standing in a jar. She trailed her hand in the water and the spray sparkled like diamonds.
“Hey!” Yvette shook water droplets off her sweatshirt. Kerry grinned.
Yvette checked the map on her lap, changed direction, and headed up the lake to the narrows. She cut the motor to almost nothing as a canyon of black rock soared above them, and the throb of the engine echoed eerily. Safely through the rocks, she opened up the throttle and cut across open water. No one would ever find us out here if we ran into trouble, thought Kerry. She shook her head, trying to get rid of such thoughts. We must be nuts to be out here without any way to get help!
Yvette was pointing to a white line along the shore. In ten minutes the line became a beach. In five more minutes Kerry realized that they were approaching an island standing in relief against the mainland. Yvette sped up more, the closer they got to land, and Kerry clutched the gunwale screaming, “Are you crazy? Slow down!”
Yvette laughed but cut the motor, and they glided over deadheads and shoals. “Grab an oar and push us away from the rocks,” she shouted. She turned her attention to the motor, tipping it forward until the propeller was out of the water and leaving a trail of drips behind them as the bow v-ed smoothly into the sand.
“Perfect, if I say so myself. Hey you, you’re supposed to compliment the captain.”
“For crazy driving?” Kerry twisted forward in the bow seat, her back to Yvette, and searched the shore for wild animals.
“Get out and haul us up.”
“I don’t want to get my boots wet,” Kerry said. It was a pathetic excuse, but she was embarrassed to admit how helpless and lost she felt, surrounded by wilderness. The place looked so lonely, so edge of the world, and who knew what was waiting behind that wall of green scrubby vegetation and dark forest?
“Mon dieu, get out of the damn boat before we drift. What are you scared of?”
Kerry cleared her throat. “What if there’s a cougar or a bear? A bear … a bear might be hiding anywhere.” She pointed right and left to rock outcroppings. Aubrey had said she didn’t have to worry about bears when he was around—but he wasn’t.
Yvette climbed out of the boat. She looked exasperated but she didn’t make fun of Kerry. “Possible but unlikely. Do you see any garbage?”
Kerry shook her head.
“Bears can swim to this island, but unless there’s food to draw them, they wouldn’t waste their energy. There’s lots of vegetation to eat at this time of year, and this beach is pretty barren. They would find better pickings elsewhere. But they have good noses, so I’ll leave the lunch in the boat—it’s not a good idea to carry food around if you don’t have to. You have more to fear from blackflies than black bears.”
They got the boat pulled securely up on the sand and looked around. There seemed to be a natural path extending away from the beach. Kerry kicked a couple of black clamshells with the toe of her boot, then turned around and looked back the way they’d come. The opposite shoreline was miles away, with nothing but open water and blue sky between. She automatically searched for a cell phone in her back pocket, and then remembered. It’s out of your control. Focus on finding the spring.
She found Yvette in the center of a velvety glade, balancing on the crumbled foundation of an old cabin beside a gravel depression with clean water bubbling up from underground.
“Somebody liked this place. I think it’d make a good cottage lot,” Kerry suggested.
“Except it’s not high enough for a septic tank. We’d hit water before we dug down four feet,” Yvette said. “Septic depth is usually a matter of elevation and distance from the water. Imagine a line to the surface of the lake and down. Sorry, I’m sounding like an engineer, but you get what I mean. Hey, did you make a fluff?” She made a rude blurp.
“Not me. But something really stinks around here.”
Yvette struck off, following her nose, with Kerry lagging behind. “It could be an old outhouse but I doubt it,” said Yvette. “More likely a dead animal, in which case it’ll be disgusting.”
“Please, let’s go back,” said Kerry, but Yvette ignored her. At the end of the path, close to the far side of the island, they found an old forty-five-gallon drum rusting in the sun.
“Something must be rotten in there,” said Kerry, moving cautiously toward the drum.
Yvette put her arm out to stop her. “It’s illegal to hunt bear in the spring,” she said.
“Bears? Why are we talking about bears?”
“Someone put a dead animal in that barrel to lure a bear here. That’s how bears are hunted, by baiting them. They’re curious animals with powerful noses. They’re usually vegetarians, but they won’t pass up an easy meal.”
So bears probably were around, after all! Kerry wanted to get far away from the barrel but she was mesmerized by its stinking contents. “That’s disgusting. It doesn’t seem fair to the bear.”
“A bear can run thirty-five miles an hour so it’s sporting enough. Besides, how else would you catch one? Hunting is very important up here because, as Papa always said, you can’t eat trees. The tourist operators need hunting to stay in business, and there are too many nuisance bears breaking into people’s homes. I’ve seen them rip bumpers off a car, trying to open the trunk.” She looked around. “Over there, the path continues.” She grabbed Kerry’s hand and dragged her around the barrel to the other side of the island, to a felled and staked log jutting out into the water. Even Kerry could see it was a makeshift dock.
“I guess they boat over from that shore. It’s not much of a ride with a heavy bear carcass, and the landing is sheltered from the wind.”
“Do you think they’ve been here recently?” asked Kerry nervously.
“It’s well used,” Yvette pointed out. “Look how the alders along the shore have been bent back, and the wood looks green.”
“It gives me the creeps.”
“M
e too. I’ve never seen anything like this. They must be poaching bear here—there’s no other explanation.”
“Do you think it’s safe to take water from the spring?”
“I don’t think we should admit we ever saw this illegal hunting camp. I’d rather go back to Harcourt empty-handed. Knowing him, he’d find some way to make it our fault. He doesn’t need to know. We’ve never been here, okay?”
“I guess. What do I know?”
They hurried back toward the boat, and Kerry took a deep breath before she reached the putrid barrel, holding it long after she’d run past. She secured the bow of the boat for Yvette, and when they were settled, Yvette put the engine in neutral and pulled the cord. The motor caught.
“Kerry, it’s time for you to learn how to actually drive, not just from a book. Don’t look at me that way. It’s not safe to have only one operator.”
With much rocking and laughter from Yvette, Kerry gripped the gunwales and, crouching low, made her way to the tiller.
“Push that lever back to reverse. And don’t forget to smile!”
Yvette kept giving instructions and Kerry did as she was told, and the boat lurched backward and then forward. Halfway across the lake, with the wind blowing in her face and the boat pounding the waves, she finally relaxed. Driving the boat was scary but fun. In fact, the whole day had been that way, alternately scary and exhilarating. They were almost back to the camp when Kerry slowed down to an idle. “If it’s Buzz who’s setting us up because he wants to get rid of us, I don’t think we should come back without any water. He’ll use that against us. Can’t we just boil the lake water?”
“It would take a lot of fuel, but you’re probably right. Maybe I can get Didier to order some and have it flown in. We will tell Buzz-Off we got lost and couldn’t find his stupid island. He thinks we’re useless anyway, so he’ll believe that.” Together they lowered the water jugs into the lake to fill them up. Then they changed places, the boat rocking madly as Kerry lost her balance and then caught herself. She watched carefully how Yvette docked the boat, knowing that next time it would be her turn.