We found the Ucluelet Aquarium. The new building was full of glass tanks with jelly fish, sea cucumbers, starfish, and green surf anemone in them.
“The Ucluelet aquarium is the only catch and release aquarium,” the staff member said. “In the spring we bring in all this sea life from the ocean and put them in our display tanks. We make sure they stay healthy all summer. At the end of our season, a biologist comes and checks that we haven’t used chemicals and have looked after the sea life. If they pass inspection, then they are released back into the ocean.”
I had never heard of this before and was impressed with whoever had thought of that idea.
We continued along the main drag and turned right on Coast Guard Road. We arrived at the parking area for the Wild Pacific Trail.
“This trail loops to the lighthouse and back to the lot,” Bill said. “The road continues to the lighthouse. If anyone wants to hike to the Lighthouse I will drive there and pick you up. But I won’t wait long so you have to be fast.”
“I don’t,” Maurie said. “I’ve done enough hiking for the day.”
I wanted to do the hike but wasn’t sure how long Bill’s ‘long’ was. Jesse saw my hesitation.
“Lilly and I are going to do it,” Jesse said.
I smiled at him as we climbed out of the car. He grabbed my hand and we started out on the trail towards the lighthouse. The trail was mainly flat with a few hills. When we got to the lighthouse, we saw Bill and Maurie standing on the huge rocks overlooking the ocean. The waves were coming in and some of them sent a spray high above the rocks.
We joined Bill and Maurie.
“This is a great place to be for the winter storms,” Jesse said.
There was an eerie sound every once in a while. I stood and listened.
“What’s that noise?” I asked.
“It’s that buoy.” Jesse pointed to a buoy floating out in the water. “It makes that sound as it sways in the waves.”
We stopped for burgers and fries at the Canadian Princess Resort, a ship that has been turned into a restaurant and bar. We ate at a table on the outside deck.
It was overcast and raining when we got back to the campground. There was no gathering at one campsite as there had been the last two nights. It was a quiet Friday evening in the campground.
The day had been long and it was past the usual time that I gave Saltry her needle. I said good night to my friends and went into our motorhome.
Mom and Dad were playing cribbage at the table.
“I already gave Saltry her needle,” Mom said, when I went to open the fridge door.
“Thanks.” I petted and nuzzled each cat.
“Want to join us?” Dad asked.
“I thought you said you weren’t going to play with us anymore,” I teased.
“No, I said you two gang up on me, I didn’t say I didn’t want a chance to redeem myself.”
“Okay, but no crying when I beat you again.”
“We’ll see about that,” Dad laughed and I wasn’t sure if he meant the crying or me beating him.
Chapter Seventeen
I woke to rain and the furnace running. The windows were fogged up so when I opened the blinds the girls still couldn’t see out. I didn’t open the camper door even though the girls took turns sitting on the step staring at me.
My cell phone buzzed.
Dad began drinking last night after we went to bed. Drank all night outside in the rain. Mom and Dad fighting. We’re packing now and are heading home.
Can I see you before you go? I sent back.
I’ll be over soon.
I quickly dressed in sweats and sweater and gave Saltry her breakfast and needle. It was cool so I put on a vest and I went outside to wait under the awning. A few minutes later Jesse jogged into our campsite. I stood. We hugged. It wasn’t a boy-girl love kind of hug. It was a ‘sorry you have to leave/I don’t want to go’ kind of hug.
“I can’t stay,” Jesse said quickly. “Bill is driving the car with Dad and I’m going with Mom. Text me when you are home so we can get together.”
“Will do.”
A horn honked.
“Gotta go.” He jogged back to the road and was gone.
I slowly went into the motorhome. I still had a week of camping with my parents before I would see Jesse again.
Mom was making coffee, Dad was in the bathroom.
“What’s happening?” Mom asked.
“Jesse and his family are leaving,” I said.
“That’s strange. Bonnie had said they were staying until tomorrow. Stuart drinking?”
“Yes. All night.”
“Poor Bonnie.”
The rain continued during the day. Four more of the team left the campground in the afternoon. There was just us and Alan and Carol. Mom and Dad went over to play cards them in the evening.
Sunday morning, my thoughts on Jesse, I opened Purple’s cupboard so she could check for her escape route while I dressed. What was happening at his home? Would he text me? After breakfast Mom and I again cleared everything off the counter and tables for travel. Dad rolled up the awning and put the chairs away. We were heading to the Elk Falls Provincial Park campground by Campbell River.
The girls sensed something was happening and I tried to watch them every time a door was opened. When we were ready, I swept my arm through the shelves of the bathroom and closed the door. We belted ourselves in and Dad drove out of the park. The sites at Elk Falls were full service so Dad decided to wait to top up our water and dump our holding tanks.
Saltry climbed on top of the cat house. Even though it was a bit small for her, she stayed there, propping one paw on the back of Dad’s seat to make sure she didn’t fall off as we went around a curve. She lasted about ten minutes then went to the swivel chair.
As we continued driving there was a loud, sharp meow. I looked down and saw Daisy staring at me. I reached down to pet her and scratch her head. She enjoyed it but she wouldn’t come any closer. She meowed again and went up front. Mom picked her up and set her on Dad’s lap.
The other two girls were quiet which was nice. I checked my cell phone. Nothing. I thought about sending Jesse a text but didn’t want to intrude on whatever was going on in their house.
We gassed up in Port Alberni, drove through the Cathedral forest, and reached the Inland Island Highway again. It was a straight drive through the countryside on the four lane highway. I read signs for places off the highway that had been bypassed when it was built. I had heard about Cumberland, Comox, and Courtney but not Bowser, Fanny Bay, and Buckley Bay. If someone wanted to see those places, they could take the Oceanside Highway, which was the old original route. At Campbell River we turned onto Highway 28 towards Gold River.
Just after we entered Elk Falls Provincial Park, we turned into the campground. Dad found our site and hooked up our water, power, and sewer.
I thought the girls deserved some goodies for travelling so well. I got the treat container and shook it. Saltry, Red and Daisy came running. I shook some morsels out for them and went searching for Purple. It wasn’t like her to miss out on her treats. She wasn’t on my bed, or my parents’ bed. I opened the bathroom door and looked on both shelves in the bottom cupboard. I put my hand in as far as the back wall. No furry bundle. I patted all the mounds in the bedding on both beds, opened all the cupboard doors, and looked under the swivel chairs. She just wasn’t in the motorhome.
“Purple isn’t in here,” I told Mom, who was making supper.
“She must be,” Mom said.
“I’ve checked the whole motorhome,” I said, trying to keep calm. “I can’t find her.”
“Could she have gotten out while we were packing up?”
I thought I had been careful making sure the girls weren’t near any of the doors as Dad was going in and out but now I was beginning to have second thoughts. I had been preoccupied with thoughts of Jesse and my cats can be fast. She could have jumped out with Dad. If she had gotten out, wher
e would she have gone? Into the bush or start heading home?
Dad came in and saw our faces. “What’s the matter?”
“Purple isn’t in here,” I told him.
“Are you sure?”
I nodded. “I’ve looked everywhere.”
“I’m certain she didn’t come out with me,” he said.
“Well, somehow she got out.” I began to panic. What were we going to do? It was a long drive back to Green Point campground and it would be closed for the night by the time we got there. I started to cry at the thought of her hiding somewhere, lost and scared in the bush, or worse yet, run over.
“You sure she isn’t under the sink. She seems to be adept at hiding there and getting locked in.”
“I reached in as far as the back wall,” I sniffled.
“I’ll get the flashlight and look.”
I stood in the bathroom doorway while Dad took the toilet paper rolls and other paraphernalia out then flashed the light on the shelves.
“There’s a hole in the wall behind the drain pipe.”
“There is?” My heart leaped. “Is she in there?”
“I can’t tell. I can’t reach in.”
Dad stood and I knelt down. “Come on, my Purple,” I called. “Come out.”
There was nothing, no noise at all. I tried again and still no results. I got the treat container. I rattled the treats but only succeeded in getting the other girls’ attention. Purple didn’t come. How was I going to get her out of there? I called some more but she wouldn’t come.
“We can’t leave her in there,” Dad said. “We don’t know where the hole goes or how far. If she gets caught in something we won’t be able to get her out.”
So far there had been no response, not a meow or a scratch or any indication that she was even in there. I didn’t know what to do.
I called her name and shook the treats. “Come and get them. Come on.” I straightened up. I was getting desperate. We had to know if she was actually hiding in there. Because if she wasn’t….
I knelt down again and called and this time she stuck her nose out of the hole. I was so relieved. At least she was with us.
“I see her nose,” I told Dad excitedly. “I see her.”
I coaxed and talked and shook the treat container until she came further out. I didn’t want to grab at her too soon and scare her back into the hole. She stopped, weighing the eating of the treats against leaving her hiding spot but she finally was totally in the cupboard. I reached in and seized her front leg. She yowled and dug in her other three. I grabbed her by the scruff of the neck with my other hand. She scrambled, knocking things over. I tugged harder and finally won. I pushed her out of the bathroom and straightened the bottles and cans and put the rolls of toilet paper back. I closed the door.
When I came out of the bathroom I looked for her. She was on the bed with her back to me. I went and talked to her but she ignored me. I left her to pout.
* * *
Saltry, Red, and Purple used the cat litter before I dished out their breakfast. Daisy waited patiently until it was her turn. For some reason, today her technique was new and unusual. She stood outside the box and put her two front paws in. She dug in the center of the litter piling it up until she was scratching on the bottom of the box. She kept that up for a quite a while. Finally, she stopped and stepped into the box. She stood with all four paws in the clean area. She had her dump on the side hill she had created. Then she scratched the litter from the sides to cover it. With dignity she stepped out and went to eat.
This morning Purple tried to climb in the kitchen cupboard under the sink and got mad when I pulled her out. She came into the bathroom with me and wanted in the bottom cupboard.
“No way,” I said.
She smelled along the bottom of the cupboard. She jumped on the tub and walked along the side of the cupboard. She scratched at the corner where the cupboard met the wall. It was like she knew her hiding spot was under there.
“We’re going to see Elk Falls,” Mom said at breakfast. “Do you want to come?”
The three of us were sitting outside at the picnic table. They had their toast and I had my cereal. Saltry was watching me from the screen door.
This week stretched ahead of me like a twenty kilometer run. I had no one now to go sightseeing with except my parents. At the beginning of the camping trip I knew this last week would be that way, but I had just spent two weeks with kids near my age. Could I handle a full day with some old people?
“Okay.” I did want to see the falls and this was my only way.
We turned on the air conditioning and locked the motorhome. I got in the back seat of the car and we headed out on Highway 28 toward Gold River. It felt strange to be in the back seat alone. I’d gotten used to Jesse being beside me.
“Oh, there’s the John Hart Highway,” Mom said. “That leads to the Canyon Trail.”
“Do you want to go there?” Dad asked.
“Yes, let’s try it first.”
Dad drove to the parking lot at the John Hart Generating Station and the trail. We crossed the river on a bridge and began heading along the canyon.
“We won’t do the whole trail because we would have to walk back along it again to the car,” Mom said. “Let’s go a short distance just to see it.”
Mom and Dad walked hand in hand, shades of Bill and Maurie. At least that was the same as the past two weeks. I didn’t have anyone to hold hands with. I missed Jesse. I hadn’t heard anything more from him. Was he waiting for me to text him? Was he waiting for some words from me so that he knew I was still there for him?
I turned my mind to the trail we were on. Again, I thought how lovely it would be to work in a park, to see all this beautiful scenery every day.
We drove to the Elk Falls parking lot where we had about a ten-minute walk through the trees to a long set of steep steps to a suspension bridge. I resisted the urge to get the bridge swaying as we crossed it to the lookout. I loved waterfalls, the flow of the water to the edge, the sudden plunge over the ledge of the rock wall, and the long drop to the river below. I found the constant, rhythmic motion almost hypnotic.
We walked back to the car. The morning had gone quickly. Now what?
“We’re not far from Gold River,” Dad said. “Let’s go there and have a late lunch.”
“Sounds good with me,” Mom agreed.
They didn’t ask me. And why should they? Would they actually change their plans if I said no? And would I really say no? The alternative was to go back to the motorhome and do nothing.
We drove out of the park, passed a bunch of countryside, and saw a lake called Snakehead. Then it was a long drive through lot and lots and lots of boring bush. I had thought that staying at the motorhome would be dull but this drive was about as dull as you could get. My view was sometimes broken by mountains and then I had the blue of Upper Campbell Lake to my right for many kilometers.
Lucky me. Not. That was sarcasm.
I pulled out my cell phone and sent texts to Olivia and Brenda, I checked for emails and Facebook, I looked up oddities like sloths, curling, and toe fungus on the Internet. What did kids do a road trips before they had cell phones?
Finally, we reached Gold River. I was starving. Dad drove through the little town and stopped at a small café. There wasn’t much on their menu so I went with the old standby of hamburger and fries. Mom had soup and a sandwich and Dad must have had the same thoughts as me and he ordered burger and fries.
The waitress brought us some water while we waited. Mom took a drink of hers and looked surprised.
“Try it,” she told Dad.
“It’s good.” He sounded impressed.
I tasted mine. There didn’t seem to be much difference from any water I’ve tried before. To me water was water. It was bland and I only drank it because I had to.
“Where do you get your water from?” Mom asked the waitress when she came back with our orders.
“Our water supply i
s from three artesian wells,” the waitress answered proudly. “It was ranked the best spring water in the world in 1996.”
* * *
When we got back to the motorhome, I opened the outside door for the girls. Mom brought out the wieners and buns while Dad lit a fire. I passed the plates and cutlery out the sliding cover in the screen door. For some reason I forgot to close the cover. I went to get the can of cat food from the fridge and turned around in time to see Purple on the back of the swivel chair doing that quiver/wiggle cats sometimes do when building up for a leap. She had her eye on the open cover. I grabbed her just as she was air borne. I hugged her and closed the plastic cover.
“Nice try,” I said, setting her on the floor.
She glared at me and flounced off, her tail in the air.
After supper I went in the motorhome. Red seemed agitated and she pawed at the corner of the screen door. I told her to quit but she tried again. Saltry watched her from bench seat, ready to make the escape if the door opened. I finally asked Mom to unlatch the outside door and close it. This set Red meowing. Daisy joined her at the step and meowed with her. I picked each one up and moved them to my bed hoping to redirect their attention. It worked; they settled.
Purple sat on Saltry’s cat house and Saltry sat beside her on the table. Nothing was said by Saltry. Purple jumped down and had a drink. Saltry went to look out the window. Purple returned to the cat house and sat staring into space. Was she thinking, “Ah, the end of another day,” or was she trying to figure out another escape route?
I laid on my bed. I held my cell phone wanting so bad to send a text to Jesse. Finally, I could take it no longer.
Having a boring time. Camping is a lot more fun with you.
I stopped. Did it read more into the two weeks than was really there?
Boring, boring. And how is your life?
That was stupid. I could say that to Brenda and Olivia but I knew how terrible Jesse’s life was now. It was not a time to joke.
Crazy Cat Kid (Crazy Cat Kids Book 1) Page 17