Ghost of Spirit Bear

by Ben Mikaelsen

  Peter stood and opened the freezer door. “I’m about done,” he said casually, trying not to show his shivering.

  Cole followed him out.

  Betty was whistling merrily as they walked from the back of the grocery store. She waved to them. “So are you both happy now?” she called.

  “It’s not something that happens overnight,” Cole said, irritated by her cheerfulness.

  Peter seemed annoyed, too. “How come you’re always happy?” he asked suddenly, stopping at the counter. “You must not have much bad stuff in your life.”

  Betty allowed a sad smile. “I’ve had plenty of bad things in my life,” she said. “I’m not always happy. But would it make things better if I let myself get down all the time?”

  Cole walked to the counter beside Peter. “It’s not that easy—you can’t just decide not to be mad.”

  “Says who?” she asked.

  “I spent more than a year on an island figuring out how not to be mad all the time.”

  “Maybe you’re a slow learner,” she kidded with an easy laugh. “Mostly I sort things out raising my plants. Ever try growing orchids?”

  The boys shook their heads.

  “I suspect there’s really only one way to find happiness.”

  “What’s that?” Peter asked.

  “You have to want to be happy—some people don’t.”

  Because they were in different classes, Cole didn’t see Peter again until after school.

  “The secret weapon is locked and loaded,” Peter announced when they met. He patted the cell phone in his pocket and opened a button to show off the little microphone hidden inside his shirt. “I found the principal’s cell number on my science teacher’s desk.”

  “Have you told the principal about your idea?”

  “Maybe that w-w-wouldn’t be smart.”

  Cole smiled. The idea was crazy, but at least it gave Peter a sense of confidence.

  As they left the school grounds together, they passed the bulldog statue. “I hate that thing,” Cole said.

  Peter agreed. “Everywhere you look at school there’s a picture of that ugly mutt.”

  “Hey, I’ve been thinking,” Peter continued. “You’re right. It’s not smart dropping the bowling balls. It’s going to get us in trouble if we get caught. Besides, I’m kind of spooked by that old guy, too.”

  Cole nodded as they walked. “What if the bowling ball hit him? He could really get hurt.”

  “Uh, hurt? It would kill him!” Peter exclaimed. “He would look like roadkill—like he’d been run over by a semi. It would crush his skull like a smashed watermelon. All his brains would—”

  “Okay, okay, I get the picture,” Cole said. “So do you have to head home right away?”

  “Not if I call my mom. Why?”

  “Maybe we could just hang out.”

  Peter smiled. “Maybe we can try being invisible.”

  After Peter called his mother, they walked aimlessly for several blocks. Both were in their own worlds, lost in thought, when suddenly they heard footsteps and turned. Keith and his friends had crept up behind them. “Hey, bear bait!” Keith said, a cocky smirk on his face. “Are you two deaf?”

  Cole wanted to kick himself for not paying attention.

  “Time for the secret weapon,” Peter whispered, sliding his hand inside the pocket of his baggy pants to activate the cell phone.

  “What did you say, gimp?” asked Keith.

  Peter spoke loudly, his words slow and deliberate. “I a-a-asked you what you’re going to do to us now that y-y-you caught us two blocks away from school?”

  “We’re g-g-going to do what we should have d-d-done yesterday,” Keith mocked.

  “What have we done to you guys?” Cole asked. But he knew they didn’t need a reason. He had never needed a reason himself when he used to beat kids up. He knew exactly how Keith and his friends thought, and it scared him.

  “Maybe I don’t like you,” said Alex, a skinny blond kid from Cole’s math class.

  Cole glanced around. Peter’s saying they were two blocks away from the school didn’t help the principal much if she was listening. Cole pointed to a yellow house nearby. “You better leave us alone—the principal lives in that house,” he said loudly. “Two forty-six Elm Street.”

  Peter looked quizzically at Cole and then grinned. “Oh, yeah, she l-l-lives at two forty-six Elm Street,” he repeated slowly.

  “What a crock of bull—,” Keith said. “You think we’re stupid?” He shoved Peter. “If the principal lives there, my mother lives in an igloo.”

  Peter was scared, but the cell phone gave him confidence and he smiled. “Where did your mom get an igloo?” he asked.

  Keith slapped Peter hard. “Get that grin off your face, retard,” he said, “or I’ll wipe it off.”

  Cole saw the group smirking and knew they were the most dangerous when they were showing off to one another. Quickly he sat down on the sidewalk and pulled Peter down beside him. “Don’t say anything more,” he whispered. “Be invisible.”

  “What are you doing now?” Keith asked.

  “We’re not going to fight you,” Cole said. “If it makes you feel big and strong to hurt somebody who’s sitting down, go ahead.”

  “I don’t care if you’re sleeping,” Keith said, kicking Cole in the ribs.

  Raw fear showed in Peter’s eyes as Keith turned and kicked him, too. Eddy stepped forward and kicked Peter in the back. Cole was desperate to stop Peter from getting hurt. “Hey, dog breath!” he shouted. “Why don’t you kick somebody your own size?”

  Eddy and Keith laughed as they both kicked Cole at the same time.

  Lying on his side, grimacing, Cole could see cars passing on the street. Drivers turned to look, but none stopped to help. Another hard kick in the chest took Cole’s breath away, then he heard Peter grunt from being kicked again. Cole looked up at Keith. “Five against two isn’t exactly fighting like a man.”

  “Okay, then get up and fight just me,” Keith said.

  “Yeah, right,” Cole said. “And if I whup you, your friends are going to just sit back and watch. I don’t think so. I’m not that stupid.”

  “You sure talk a lot for somebody who is getting his butt kicked.” Keith kicked Cole again.

  Suddenly a blue station wagon swerved to a stop beside the curb, and Ms. Kennedy stepped out.

  The group started to run.

  “Stop, or I call the police,” the principal shouted. “I recognize every one of you. Line up, now!”

  Reluctantly, the gang returned and shuffled into position. Cole and Peter stood, clutching their bruised ribs. Peter’s nose was bleeding, and Ms. Kennedy handed him a tissue. “Are you okay?” she asked.

  Peter nodded.

  “What are you doing here?” Keith asked the principal timidly.

  “I want to know what you’re doing here,” she replied.

  “We didn’t do nothing to them!” exclaimed Eddy.

  “Oh, let me guess,” the principal said. “Peter and Cole just walked up to you again, and this time they sat down on the sidewalk in front of you so they could relax and enjoy your company.”

  “We weren’t really hurting them,” Alex said.

  “We were just messing with their heads a little,” said Keith.

  “Yeah, we were just joking,” the others agreed.

  “Maybe we should joke with you a little,” Peter said.

  Ms. Kennedy’s voice grew cold. “You five are the biggest cowards in our school. Instead of these two, why don’t you pick on the football team?”

  The group remained silent, smirking.

  Ms. Kennedy moved slowly, looking into the boys’ eyes until each looked away, then she shouted, “You do not have the right to destroy someone else’s dignity because you have none yourself!”

  Cole was surprised by how the principal was acting. It took a lot of guts, but he still doubted anything would come of it. There weren’t consequences in this school
, not like on the island. There, if he chopped wood and covered it, he had dry wood for the winter. If not, he didn’t. If he attacked a bear, it mauled him. If he gave it space, it trusted him. He wished Keith had to face consequences for his actions, but he knew that wasn’t how it was at this school.

  “Cole, you and Peter go on home, but stop by my office in the morning,” Ms. Kennedy said. “I’ll meet the rest of you back in my office in five minutes. Anybody that gets there after me pays the fiddler double.”

  Keith started toward the school, sauntering casually to prove he wasn’t intimidated.

  Chapter 5

  AS COLE AND Peter headed down the sidewalk, Cole elbowed his friend. “Hey, your secret weapon worked.”

  “Yeah,” Peter said with a grin. Then he grimaced.

  “Are you okay?”

  Peter wiped blood from his face. “The principal can’t stop Keith and his friends.”

  “Seeing Keith slap you this afternoon made me want to pound his head against a sidewalk,” Cole said. “I want to see him stutter and stammer the rest of his life. Maybe I should just beat him up and let the Circle send me to jail.”

  Tears filled Peter’s eyes. “You going to jail won’t make anything better. You’re my only real friend.”

  “Sitting in a dumb freezer and carrying bowling balls isn’t helping.”

  “I agree,” Peter said, “but please don’t go to jail.”

  * * *

  Cole didn’t tell his mother about Keith and the bullies or having to go see the principal, just that they weren’t going to sit in the freezer anymore. He felt like he needed to work things out for himself. Weary, he went to bed early.

  All that night, he tossed and turned, his dreams confused, his body aching. One moment the Spirit Bear was mauling him, and the next instant his dad was whipping him with the buckle end of the belt. Then the Circle was sending him back to jail. Finally, in his last dream, his totem pole had become a monster, threatening to attack him. When Cole’s alarm went off, he felt like a zombie. He hugged his bruised ribs and grimaced as he crawled from his bed to get ready for school.

  “Are you sure you don’t want a ride?” his mother asked as they ate breakfast.

  “I’m sure.”

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You’re awfully quiet this morning.”

  “I’m fine—I just need time alone.”

  Cole finished eating and gave his mother a quick kiss on the cheek. “Love you, Mom,” he said. “Remember, tonight’s the Circle.”

  “I love you, too,” she said warmly, nodding.

  As he walked to school, Cole’s thoughts were as troubled as his dreams. Yesterday, a cell phone had saved their hides, but what if there had been no cell phone? Then what? And tonight, would the Circle members still think of him as a punk troublemaker? It bothered him that his dad wasn’t coming. He was tempted to just show up at his office downtown to see what he’d do.

  When Cole got to school, he went straight to the main office to wait. Peter arrived a few minutes later, and together they went in to see Ms. Kennedy.

  “That was a slick trick you pulled yesterday,” she said. “Where did you get my number?”

  “It was on one of the teacher’s desks,” Peter admitted.

  “I don’t want students in the school running around with my cell phone number.”

  “I d-d-didn’t give it to anybody,” Peter said, lowering his head. His voice showed disappointment. “It seemed like a good idea.”

  “So what happened to the guys that picked on us?” Cole asked.

  “I gave them detention for a week.”

  “Detention won’t change anything,” Cole said. “It won’t stop the bullying. What are we supposed to do the next time they get in our face? Now they’re even more ticked at us.”

  “If they bother either of you, report it to me or one of your teachers.”

  “After we’ve been beat up,” Cole said. “Detention won’t change that.”

  “Those five will get suspended if this happens again.”

  “I doubt that,” Cole said. “They know there aren’t real consequences, otherwise they wouldn’t be bullies.” Cole bit back his anger. “Every day kids are getting hassled and nobody sees it or does anything about it.”

  “Each person has to do his part,” Ms. Kennedy said. “It was good that you didn’t fight back yesterday.”

  “You don’t get it, do you?” Cole said angrily. “This isn’t about us not fighting back. When I was a bully, the more somebody refused to fight, the more I picked on him. Don’t you see, I’m screwed no matter what I do? If I use my fists, I go to jail. If we do nothing, we get used as punching bags.”

  “Use your brains,” Ms. Kennedy said curtly.

  “We d-d-did that,” Peter exclaimed. “We used the cell phone, and you didn’t like that.”

  Ms. Kennedy reached across her desk and gathered papers into her hands. “There’s no easy answer. You two need to get to class now.”

  After school, Cole found Peter near the bulldog statue. With school back in session, fresh gang symbols appeared each morning on the crumbling pedestal.

  “What do you want to do if we’re not going to drop bowling balls?” Peter asked.

  “Maybe we can look for a place to be invisible.”

  “All right,” Peter said. “Let’s go someplace really quiet.”

  Ten minutes later, they were still looking for a spot when they heard wild swearing and shouting. Ahead, they spotted two boys hassling the old homeless man from the abandoned building. One boy had tipped over his cart as the other taunted him.

  At first the grizzled man brandished his whittling knife each time one of the tormentors ventured near, but soon he knelt and cowered, pulling the dirty white blanket tightly around his shoulders. Cole remembered cowering the same way when his father had whipped him with a belt. As Peter and Cole watched, one of the boys grabbed the man’s blanket. The bum clung to it desperately, but the boy yanked it away, laughing.

  “Knock it off!” Cole shouted, breaking into a run.

  At that moment, a police car rolled into view, lights flashing. The two boys took off running. The homeless man picked up his blanket and retreated to his tipped-over cart, glaring wildly and brandishing his knife at the world.

  The two police officers climbed from their car and drew their pistols as they approached the crazed man. Slowly they circled him, talking patiently and holding out their hands for the knife. Finally one officer grabbed the old tramp from behind and wrestled the knife from his hand. They handcuffed him.

  Cole ran up. “Officer, it wasn’t that guy’s fault.”

  “And who are you?”

  “I’m Cole Matthews. Two boys were hassling the old guy. They tipped over his cart and grabbed his blanket. He was just protecting himself.”

  The bum eyed Cole with quiet blue eyes.

  “Do you know the boys who did it?” the officer asked.

  Cole shook his head. “I didn’t recognize them.”

  “No matter what, this guy can’t be waving a knife at people,” said the second officer.

  Peter joined Cole beside the police car. “He just carves with it,” Peter said. “We saw him whittling.”

  “We still have to take him in.”

  The patrol car drove off with the bum in handcuffs. His belongings were scattered on the ground: worn pieces of clothing, an old bowling trophy, a hand mirror, some broken toys, a bundle of clothes hangers, and ordinary trash as if the old guy was cleaning up the streets.

  “Let’s put it all back in the cart and push it over to the building where he lives,” Cole said. “We’ll leave it inside.”

  Quickly they picked up the scattered junk. They were almost finished when Peter called, “Hey, look at this!”

  “What you got?” Cole asked.

  Peter walked over and handed an object to Cole. “That’s what the guy was carving.”

  Cole turned the small chunk of carved wood over in his
hand. The guy had started carving a bear’s head. It was amazingly lifelike.

  Peter took the carving back from Cole. “Man, this thing looks real—I want to try and carve one just like it.”

  That night, Garvey brought his old station wagon by to pick up Cole and his mother for the Circle meeting. They all sat in the front seat. “So what have you and Peter been up to?” Garvey asked.

  “Trying to pretend we’re on the island again. For a pond, we sat in a freezer down at Frazier’s grocery store. For ancestor rocks, we dropped bowling balls from an old abandoned building. But it’s not working.”

  “You don’t need ponds or ancestor rocks anymore,” Garvey said. “Look at a leaf, glance up at the stars, or just close your eyes and breathe deeply. Go inside yourself to the place you’re already at. The island taught you where that place was. Now all you have to do is be there.”

  “You make it sound so easy.”

  “Because it is. Don’t fight it.”

  “I’ll try,” Cole promised.

  “How about the Spirit Bear?” Garvey asked. “Have you seen the Spirit Bear?”

  Cole looked over at Garvey quizzically. “We thought we did on Monday, but it was just an old man.” Cole told Garvey and his mom about the homeless man being arrested. “When we picked up his stuff this afternoon, Peter found a bear head the old guy had started carving.”

  “That’s a good sign,” Garvey said.

  “Yeah—isn’t that a coincidence!”

  “There are no coincidences,” Garvey said. “Remember that.” His face turned serious. “I don’t like that you two dropped bowling balls from an abandoned building.”

  “We already quit doing that. It was a mistake.”

  “A stupid mistake.”

  “Hey, didn’t you ever make mistakes at my age?”

  Garvey nodded. “Plenty of mistakes—but I also discovered that if you’re where you should be in your heart and spirit, you don’t make those mistakes. Cole, your heart and spirit not being in the right place really scares me.”

  When Cole arrived at the Circle, half the chairs were already filled. He recognized the Keeper, the plump woman who had led the Circle that banished him to the island. Others from that meeting sat chatting quietly. One new face surprised him. “Ms. Kennedy, what are you doing here?” he whispered.