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Crazy Cat Kid (Crazy Cat Kids Book 1)

Page 12

by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey


  Dad set his bags on one of the swivel chairs and opened one of them. He pulled out some golf shirts. He had taken up golfing with some of his fellow teachers and bought different colored shirts every chance he got. In the other bag were containers of cupcakes. Way too many for us to eat. I looked at Mom.

  “Tonight is our last night here,” she said. “I thought we would hand out these cupcakes as we go around saying goodbye to everyone.”

  I didn’t want to go around saying goodbye to people I hadn’t really met. “I thought they were all coming to Tofino.”

  “Not all of them. Some have other plans. And a few of the ones who didn’t make it here will be at Tofino.”

  Great, more people not to meet.

  Mom decided to have the ultimate camping meal, hot dogs, for supper. Dad started a fire while we carried the wieners, buns, plates, and condiments out to the table. Others were preparing their last meal over their fires, too. I got one of the sticks and put a wiener on it. I walked towards the metal ring. I wasn’t sure how close I was going to get but I had to try. There was a lump in my stomach and I thought I might be sick. I stopped but stayed where I was. When I realized I wasn’t going to throw up, I moved closer and held my arm out. The wiener just barely reached the edge of the metal ring.

  “Do you want me to do that for you?” Dad asked.

  “No,” I shook my head. It was time for me to deal with my fear.

  I took one small step. That was as far as I felt comfortable going so if that wasn’t far enough, I would have to eat the wiener raw.

  But it was good enough. The wiener was over the fire ring. My arm soon tired from being stretched out and I changed hands. When I finally quit the side of wiener facing the fire was burned while the side facing me was barely warm. It didn’t matter. I had done it myself. I put the wiener in a bun, spread on relish and ate my first hot dog in three years. Then I had a second one. I was slowly winning the battle.

  After eating, Mom and Dad went to deliver their cupcakes. Jesse and I headed to the lake. We had a last rock skipping contest each throwing five stones. The tie remained.

  “Do you think your Dad will change his mind and go with you to Tofino?” I asked.

  Jesse shrugged. “I don’t know. He and Mom were pretty mad at each other. Maybe Mom won’t want him to come.”

  I wouldn’t blame her, I thought but didn’t say.

  “How long will you be staying there?” I asked.

  “I don’t know what Mom’s plans are. I just know that she has been looking forward to doing this ever since the idea was announced. It’s too bad that Dad is spoiling it for her. You?”

  “Probably a week and then we will be going north for a while. Mom and Dad want to see some of the island while we have the chance.”

  “It’s not that big so it won’t take long.”

  I checked my cell phone for the time. I had to give Saltry her insulin so we went back to the motorhome. Jesse came in to watch. He wrinkled his nose when I stuck the needle in her neck.

  “Doesn’t that hurt?”

  I shook my head. “They don’t have many nerves there. That’s why the mothers can carry their kittens by the neck without hurting them.”

  It was still light so we got some pop and went back outside. Two of our chairs were gone and I saw Mom and Dad over at Carol and Alan’s with some other campers. Bonnie was one of them. They were talking and laughing. Jesse got one of their chairs.

  “It feels weird to know that tomorrow we are leaving,” I said. “It seems that we have been here for longer than five days.”

  “Yes, when Mom told me about it, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to come. I thought it would be boring.”

  “I had no choice because of my cats.”

  “How so?” Jesse asked.

  “Well, I couldn’t leave Saltry. And we have only lived on the acreage a few weeks. I was afraid that if I left the others they might try to find their way back to our previous house. Mom wouldn’t let me stay home with them so we all had to come. I was prepared to spend my time reading and checking Facebook and texting.”

  “Bill and I waited until the last minute to make up our minds. Mom said that if we didn’t like it here then she would take us home.”

  “What about Maurie?”

  “She likes camping so she wanted to come.”

  “That’s why she was so glad to see Bill that first day you were here.”

  “Yes, he wanted to surprise her so he didn’t tell her we had decided to show up.”

  The adult’s group broke up at dark. Mom and Dad carried their chairs back to our table. Jesse said goodnight to me and my parents.

  I changed into my pajamas and climbed onto my bed. I looked at the pile of dirty clothes that had been accumulating in the corner. Tomorrow I would put them in a bag to carry them in the house.

  Chapter Twelve

  We didn’t hurry getting up the morning. We just had to drive home. I dressed in the clothes I’d worn the day before knowing that I would soon be having a real shower. Saltry got her needle and I ate breakfast. Mom and Dad spent their last morning here having coffee outside. As promised, I packaged my dirty clothes and left them on my bed within reach.

  When their coffee was done Mom and Dad folded up the table and chairs and stored them away. Dad rolled up the awning while Mom and I put things away in cupboards or set them on the beds and floor. We had to make sure nothing would fall and possibly break while driving.

  Dad opened the outside camper door. “Are we were ready?” he asked.

  “We are,” Mom answered, belting herself into the passenger seat.

  Dad closed the door and I heard him push the steps into place. He walked around and climbed in the driver’s door. We stopped at the car to hook it up behind and we were off. I waved to Jesse as we drove out of the yard.

  The girls took up their howling and meowing and pacing as soon as we were out on the highway.

  “It’s okay,” I told them. “We’re on our way home for a while.”

  That didn’t appease them. However, they soon quit on their own. Maybe they remembered that their outrage on the trip to the lake hadn’t done them any good.

  I’m not sure if the girls realized we were home when we pulled into our driveway. Since we were going to be here over night, I opened the door to let them out. At first they weren’t sure what to do almost as if they thought it was a trick. Purple was the first one down the steps. She took off across the lawn. Daisy quickly followed her. Hopefully, they wouldn’t hide somewhere. Red was more tentative. She went slowly down the steps and then under the motorhome. Saltry looked out then sat down on the step effectively blocking our way. I picked her up and carried her into the house.

  We unloaded our clothes and bedding for Mom to wash. I left the screen door open in case the girls wanted back in. Dad emptied the dirty water holding tanks into our septic tank and then filled up with clean water. I added gas to the tank on the riding lawn mower and mowed the lawn. This was one of the best things I liked about country living. I got to drive a vehicle of sorts. I even liked the smell of fresh mowed grass. Dad trimmed along the edges of the sidewalk and flower beds with the weed wacker.

  By the time I was finished the lawn both my parents had showered. I plugged in my cell phone to charge and stepped in the shower. Mom and Dad stocked up our supply of canned goods and cereal. It had been a dry summer so far and there was talk that there might be a campfire ban in provincial parks and campgrounds. To save us having to cook all our meals inside the motorhome, Dad loaded a propane camp stove. He also topped up our supply of firewood in the trunk of mom’s car, just in case.

  Mom made a casserole for our supper. After giving Saltry her needle, Mom and I went for a bike ride. We were still inspecting our new neighbourhood. During the night the girls took turns coming to sleep with me. I think they were glad to be home.

  * * *

  It was mid-morning before we were ready to leave. I had saved loading the girls until last
. I rattled the treat container to get their attention. Saltry, Daisy and Red came. Purple did not. While they were eating the treats I put the cover over the cat door so they couldn’t get out. I went outside and shook the container. Purple stuck her head around the corner of the garage. Did she suspect something? I shook them again, harder and started towards her. I talked softly as I approached. Rather than go all the way up to her I stopped and set some treats on the ground. She looked at me and at the pile of goodies.

  She came towards me and began to eat. I petted her and when she was just about finished, I picked her up. She was okay until I opened the door of the motorhome. She began to fight but I set her in and closed the door, hooking the wire so she didn’t push it open. Dad and I went through the same motions as we had the first day until all the girls were in the motorhome again.

  Once more we were ready to go camping. We’d used propane to heat our hot water tank and the propane furnace had run a couple of nights so Dad decided we would top up our propane tank on our way out of town.

  Then we were on the Highway 19, also known as the Inland Island Highway, heading north. This time the girls were quiet although Purple jumped on the table to look out the window and Red stood up on a swivel chair to see what was on her side of the motorhome. I was ready to catch Purple if she started to slide off. Daisy paced up to the front and back a few times. She laid down between the seats. Mom reached over and petted her. She stood up and left. When she went back, Mom picked her up and set her on Dad’s legs. That seemed to be what she wanted and she laid down.

  “Carol gave me a list of places we should stop at on our way,” Mom said. “The first one is a place called Coombs. She said to turn onto Highway 4A.”

  My parents did have a GPS but only used it to find addresses in the city. They still liked to refer to a map to get from town to town. That way they could take a side trip when they wanted without the GPS lady constantly telling them how to get back on course.

  “What’s at Coombs?” I asked.

  “Goats on the Roof.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Apparently there are goats that live on a roof.”

  I couldn’t picture that. I’d just have to wait until we got there.

  We followed Carol’s directions and soon reach a quaint little hamlet that looked like it consisted totally of stores. There was no way Dad could park the motorhome in one of the few, small parking lots especially with the car behind. Most of the vehicles were angle-parked along the side of highway. We were too long to angle park so Dad pulled over as far as he could on the side of the road. There wasn’t room for us to get out the passenger side.

  We all climbed out the driver’s door and walked across the highway. I couldn’t believe the number of small shops and all the different clothing, jewelry, and carvings they had. I had Mom take pictures of me beside many of the huge statues of animals in a middle courtyard and I put it on Facebook. We walked to the market. It was a large, low building with a grass roof. Eating the grass and looking down on the tourists were the goats. Goats on the Roof. Should have known. I saw three adults and one kid, as I knew the babies are called. There was even a small log shelter for them to hide in out of the rain. I stood and watched as they walked up and down the roof nibbling on the grass or looking down at us.

  “I would love to climb up with them and pet them,” I said to Mom.

  “I doubt that it’s allowed,” Mom said. “Or the roof would be crowded with people. There are also signs not to feed them.”

  One of the goats came near the edge of the roof. I handed my cell phone to Mom.

  “Will you take a picture of me with that goat in the background?”

  Mom obliged and I sent it to Facebook for my friends to see.

  We entered the market and walked through the narrow aisles. There were vegetables, meats, cheeses, canned goods, fresh baked bread and buns, and souvenirs. Mom bought some cheese bread and we all got ice cream cones.

  “I think we will have to come back when we have a full day to wander through here,” Mom said, as we headed back to the motorhome.

  We continued along Highway 4A to a set of traffic lights and turned left onto Highway 4 also known as the Pacific Rim Highway. I spent my time watching the scenery of the island I now called home. We passed a place called Whiskey Creek, wound our way along the shores of Cameron Lake, and reached MacMillan Provincial Park with Cathedral Grove. There was a small parking lot on each side of the highway. They were full, and cars, trucks, and RV’s were parked up and down the highway. Ahead, a motorhome had its signal light on to pull out onto the highway. Dad stopped to let it go and pulled into its spot.

  The highway was narrow between the tall trees and we had to wait until no traffic was coming before attempting to leave the motorhome. We walked back to where the trail started through the trees on our side of the road. There was also one on the other side of the highway.

  The path meandered through the trees and there were information signs to read along the way. To say these trees were huge would be an understatement. Their trunks were so big that it would have taken a lot of people holding hands to reach all the way around them. I looked up and could barely see the tops. I read the signs stating they were hundreds of years old, which meant some of them were already two hundred years old at the time Columbus discovered America. That certainly put their age into perspective for me.

  As I wandered I thought about how much fun it would be to work in a park like this, to walk among trees or beside rivers and lakes every day.

  I climbed up on an enormous log that was lying on its side with an even bigger tree growing behind it while Mom took a picture. I was disappointed when Dad said we had to leave. I wished we had more time to spend amongst these large trees but we had to get to the campground and set up before dark.

  “This is the Alberni Summit,” Mom said, when we reached the top of a steep, winding drive. “It’s called the Hump by the locals.”

  We drove down the other side and were welcomed to the Alberni Valley.

  “What’s there to do here?” I asked.

  “Carol said there is a steam train to ride to a working saw mill. They have a beautiful harbor and great fishing in their inlet. But she cautioned that everything was downtown and we would have a hard time finding a parking spot.”

  We drove down hill through part of the town. The street ended at two tall statues and the river. Dad turned right at a set of lights and we followed the river until we crossed it and headed out of town. I watched out both windows trying to read the signs and see everything we passed.

  We went through a native reserve and I saw a sign for a native art gallery. There was a large log under a shelter out front and someone was doing a carving on it.

  There were signs everywhere. Fish for Sale. Farmer Bill’s Country Market. Hogs Gone Wild, fries, poutine, burgers, pulled pork. The highway was hilly and winding. We crossed the Sproat River and saw a sign for Great Central Lake Road.

  “The highest waterfall in Canada and maybe North America can be reached by crossing Great Central Lake in a boat and then hiking for a couple of days,” Mom said.

  “How do you know?” Dad asked.

  “Carol told me. She and Alan hiked into it one year.”

  “Maybe we should try it someday,” Dad said.

  The road wound past the Sproat Lake Provincial Park and through acreages and treed areas. There were a lot of parks on the island I thought as we drove past Taylor Arm Provincial Park. Lots of parks that I could work at when I was older. I saw glimpses of Sproat Lake through the trees for a few more kilometers and then we were in mountains.

  The speed limit varied from eighty to ninety kph and there were signs telling slower traffic that was impeding others to pull into designated pullouts and let the lineup of traffic pass. Since we were travelling slower, Dad followed the rules.

  We crossed Sutton Creek then climbed to Sutton Summit which is 240 m above sea level. We had been following a river for
a while and when we rounded a curve we saw a parking spot on the right side of the highway. There were huge rocks out in the river and people were climbing and jumping from one to the other.

  “Can we stop?” I asked.

  “Not this time,” Dad said, looking at his watch. “We still have a long way to go.”

  I saw a sign for Westcoast Wild Zipline. “What about zip lining?”

  “Maybe on our way back.”

  “There’s a creek for you,” Mom said, pointing to a sign.

  Cats Ear Creek.

  “Why would they name it after a cat’s ear?” I asked. “Did a cat lose its ear here?”

  “Maybe it’s shaped like a cat’s ear,” Dad suggested.

  “Or maybe someone found one,” Mom said. “Remember, a cat could mean a cougar, since there are lots of them on the island.”

  The road was very winding and we crossed a lot of creeks. At times our speed was down to 30 and 40 kph and we made some steep downhill descents.

  “This would be so much fun in a small car,” Dad said. “We could race through all these curves.”

  We crossed Lost Shoe #2 Bridge and in less than half a kilometer crossed Lost Shoe #1 Bridge.

  “Now, was that two shoes lost or one shoe that someone saw twice?” Mom asked.

  “Either way the person who lost them would have had a hard time getting around,” Dad said.

  We reached a T-intersection and the Pacific Rim National Park Visitor’s Centre. Dad pulled into the large parking lot and went to get a ticket for us to stay a week in the park.

  At the T-intersection a sign pointed left to Ucluelet and right to Tofino. Dad turned right. We were still on Highway 4 and crossed the 49th Parallel which for most provinces is the border between Canada and the United States. In this province, the border zags south to encompass the whole island.

  “There is supposed to be the Wickanninish Center, Florencia Bay beach, and a bog down that road,” Mom said, looking at the brochure Dad had brought back from the visitor’s center.

 

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