Street Shadows

by Claire Gilchrist

  “Pica, we needed to protect our family. None of those details are really important — all you needed to know was that they were both potentially dangerous and to stay away. Lamar and I regretted not fighting off Jagger when he first arrived. He showed up soon after Scruff’s mother died, and he was so aggressive that Lamar was worried about injuring himself in a face-to-face confrontation. It is rare to receive that kind of challenge from a lone coyote, but with you pups so little, our pack was weak. Someone always needed to be back guarding you, and I was especially weak, having just given birth. We decided to let him have the forest and hopefully we would be able to run him off later, when you were all older. Obviously, that was the wrong decision. If we had challenged him earlier, your father would still be alive, and we would still be living on the hillside.” Her voice shook with sadness.

  Taba walked over to where Gree was standing, her head bowed, and nosed her back. “You didn’t let us down. You always did the best you could.”

  Taba then walked over to where Pica was standing, shell-shocked. She nosed her gently. “Hey — Pica. Think about it. That’s the way it works. It’s our pack against the world.”

  “And so we killed a mother and sentenced her pups to death?”

  “They would have died anyway.”

  “But they didn’t — Scruff survived when Jagger saved him.”

  “Jagger only saved him so he could use him. He’s worse than us.”

  Pica shook her head, disbelieving. She looked at Sage. “Sage? Did you know?”

  Sage looked back at her with sad eyes. “No, I didn’t. But I get it. They were just trying to protect us.”

  Something in Pica snapped. She whirled around, looking from family member one to another. “I think it’s stupid. All of this. Killing other coyotes, abandoning pups. All for what? To steal a little patch of trees?”

  “That little patch of trees was necessary to maintain our family.” Gree spoke sharply. “Our family, Pica. The pack who raised you, protected you. Scruff is not our family. He should have died a long time ago.”

  “I can’t believe you would say that.” Pica felt the anger driving her, causing her to back away from her family. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. All along, she had believed that Jagger had killed Scruff’s family. She had tried to convince Scruff of it, too. Where was he now? What was he doing?

  She turned, taking a few steps away. “I have to tell him. He deserves to know the truth.”

  Gree stood and blocked her path. “Pica, telling him the truth won’t give him any peace. Just let him go — this is your family, right here. You don’t need to save him.”

  Pica shook her head, stepping around her mother. “No, you’re wrong. I do have to tell him. He saved me, and I never thanked him. He helped me come back to you. I owe it to him to let him know the truth.”

  Gree sighed, her eyes softening. “At least wait until dark.”

  “I can’t wait. I can’t let him get too far away or I’ll never find him again!” Her voice was choked with emotion.

  “Fine.” Gree stepped aside. “I can’t stop you. But be careful, and come back safe. We just found you. I love you.”

  Pica looked at her family one more time, feeling conflicted, and then turned, retracing her steps back to the fence where she had last seen Scruff.

  TWENTY-FIVE

  PACK

  Scruff

  After leaving Pica, Scruff hadn’t made it that far. The streets were barely illuminated by the blue morning light, and he was vaguely aware of cars honking at him as he wound through the streets, looking for a place to lie down. He just wanted to curl up somewhere dark, close his eyes, and block out the world. Eventually, he passed a small park. The trash can was tipped over and small scraps of garbage were strewn across the grass, picked over by crows, pigeons, and other small animals. He sniffed briefly — nothing edible remained. Something in the can smelled sharp and acrid, making his nose burn.

  He almost continued, but then, seeing a low bush behind the toppled container, realized that this would be the perfect cover. No one would smell him over the trash odours. He would be left alone, which was all he wanted now. He dug into the cold dirt, frozen chunks cracking off of the ground, and curled up deep under the bush. His nose slowly began to stop stinging, and he became more aware of the cold ground against his body. He shivered, pushing his nose underneath his tail.

  He thought back to the last few days. He had finally confronted Jagger, but still didn’t really understand why Jagger had taken him in. It was clear to him now that Jagger was bitter and violent, having killed his family and likely others, but why he had spared Scruff and raised him was still a mystery. He would probably never know. He felt a little bit comforted knowing that he had been able to help Pica find her family again. At least now they were together. It was the least he could do.

  Picturing them together gave him a sudden pang of loneliness. The last few days had been so nice, being with Pica. She was someone he could talk to, hunt with, and even laugh with. His time with her had been so different than anything he had experienced before. He had been lonely his whole life, but he had never felt as alone as he did now.

  He would never go back to the hillside, and he couldn’t go anywhere near Pica’s family. He didn’t really want to go back to his spot under the train in the heart of the city, either; it was a lonely, noisy place. There had to be something better. He thought then of what the old coyote Mala had said when he met her on the beach. She had talked about the Wild Lands on the other side of the bridge, different but full of opportunity. Fewer people, and more space. Even though she had said it was difficult to survive there, the idea appealed to him. It would be a true fresh start. He wouldn’t worry about running into anyone from his past.

  He dozed lightly through the day, the cold preventing him from falling into a deep sleep. At some point in the middle of the day, a noise caught his attention. Removing his nose reluctantly from the warm pocket his body had made for it, he looked up. Through the branches, he could see a slim grey shadow walking slowly on the other side of the park. He recognized Pica immediately, and his heart gave a jump. What was she doing here? He was immediately alert. He almost called out to her, but then he hesitated. What if her family was nearby?

  He longingly watched her cross through the park and begin to round the corner out of sight. A few moments passed, and then he couldn’t stand it any longer. He had to know why she was here. Standing up, he gave a low bark, then another one, louder, to make sure it was heard over the background sound of the cars on the roads surrounding the park. A few moments later, he saw her re-emerge from behind the bushes at the corner of the park. He rose slowly and came out from under the bush. Pica spotted him and stopped. For a few moments, they just stared at one another across the park. Then, Pica put her ears back in happiness and ran over to him.

  “Scruff!” she exclaimed as she got close, nudging him with her nose.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked, taken aback by her friendliness.

  “It’s a long story.” She paused, her nose wrinkling. “What are you doing near this terrible-smelling pile of garbage?”

  He smiled, realizing that it was a bit odd. “I didn’t want other coyotes to find me. It seemed safe.”

  They stood for a moment, just staring at one another. Scruff tried to hide his delight at seeing her again. For some reason he didn’t want her to know how lonely he had been feeling.

  “Well,” Pica ventured, “my nose isn’t really getting used to this stench. Why don’t we go to the other side of the park? I have to talk to you about something.”

  Intrigued, Scruff followed her across the park to another clump of bushes. He sat down and looked at her. She stayed standing, shifting her weight from side to side. He couldn’t quite read her expression, but he could tell she was nervous and began to worry about what she was about to say.

  “What’s up, Pica?”

  “Well, I have some things to tell you.”
Her voice was low and serious, and he felt fear grip his stomach. His mind started racing — what could be bad enough that she would come and find him to tell him? Unless, of course, Jagger was back and had hurt someone else?

  She continued slowly and carefully. “I don’t know how to tell you this, but you deserve to know. You might hate me and my family when I’m done, and I would understand that. But it’s not right that you should leave without the truth.”

  Scruff frowned, now very confused. What could she possibly say that would make him mad at her?

  “It’s hard to start … I guess I should just get it out. I talked with my family this morning and told them about our confrontation with Jagger, and how you saved me from an attack. Then I told them about how he had lied to you about my father killing your parents.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “Scruff, this is going to be a big surprise to you, but Jagger didn’t lie to you about killing your parents. He was terrible to you, but I know for sure now that he didn’t kill them.”

  Scruff frowned. “I don’t understand. If he didn’t, then who did?”

  Pica’s face crumpled. She looked miserable. Staring at the ground, she answered him. “It was my family.”

  “What?” Scruff’s mind went blank, trying to process this new information.

  “My mom told me this morning that your father was very sick and died of an illness. Then it was just you, your mother, and your siblings. You must have been tiny, still in the den — and then your mom got sick, too. My parents decided to run her off the territory to get more room for my family. They chased her until she got hit by a car.”

  Scruff was silent. He had always had a deep longing to know in more detail what happened to his parents, but hearing about it made him feel their deaths more sharply, as if it were happening all over again. He looked at Pica, still not quite comprehending. “So he was telling me the truth all along. It was your family who was lying.”

  Pica didn’t make eye contact with him. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice low. “I didn’t know any of this.” She paused, taking a shaky breath. “And … there is some more.”

  Scruff waited, his head down. He didn’t know if he wanted to hear anything else.

  “Scruff, my mom also told me that Jagger is your brother from a previous litter. You share the same parents.”

  Scruff looked up at this, his breath catching. “What? Are you sure?”

  “I don’t know why she would lie about it. I think she recognized his scent from before.”

  “But why wouldn’t he tell me? And why would he be so mean? I don’t understand.”

  “This is all new to me, too. I don’t know why he used you like he did. And I don’t know why neither of us found out until now. But now you know. Although I’m not sure it helps.”

  They were both silent for a few minutes. Images of Scruff’s life flashed through his head: Jagger punishing him, feeling lonely and ignored for days at a time, Jagger’s cool smile after he had killed Lamar. Finally, he spoke. “You’re right, it doesn’t help. He’s not my family — he’s nothing to me. I have nothing. And now the last few threads keeping my life together are broken.” Feeling the darkness seep into him, he turned his back to her and curled up in a ball.

  “Scruff,” Pica began, her voice tentative.

  He buried his nose deeper under his tail. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.” He closed his eyes tight. He heard a few footsteps and then she was gone.

  Pica

  Pica’s head hurt. She had hoped to give Scruff some relief in knowing the truth, but now he was so much more miserable than before. Gree was right, he probably would have been better off not knowing. It felt terrible to leave him so hopeless.

  She crossed the park, ducking out of the way when some small humans appeared in front of her on the path. She heard them shout and picked up her pace, heading away from the park. She crossed the street and then entered a quiet front yard, needing time to think.

  The thing that surprised her the most was that Scruff hadn’t even seemed angry. Maybe that was the worst part — it would have been easier to leave if he had yelled at her or insulted her family. Instead, he looked like he had just given up. She didn’t blame him. He didn’t have anyone looking out for him in his life. At least she knew that she always had others who loved her.

  Looking back, she realized that she had been sheltered. She had never questioned how her family had come to live on such a beautiful and desirable piece of land; in fact, it wasn’t until she saw the rest of the city that she truly appreciated her home. She had grown up thinking that the world was simple. Her parents were good and loved their pups, and the main challenge in life was to find enough food. Now, she was starting to understand that the relationships between coyotes were complex, and there were difficult decisions that had to be made to protect the pack. Anger toward her family began to melt away. Her parents weren’t perfect, but they had done everything they could to support Pica and her siblings while they were growing up.

  And then there was Scruff. As she lay quietly, letting the day pass by, her thoughts kept returning to him. Considering all of the obstacles in his life, he had turned out surprisingly well. Travelling with him for those few days had been fun. He was funny and thoughtful, and he had turned into an excellent hunter. He’d had a tough life, but his personality didn’t reflect it.

  When the sun finally went down and the streets were bathed in a dusky grey, Pica rose, stretching. As she reached the sidewalk, she knew exactly where she was going. She felt the wind lifting her fur up, the cold air making her skin feel almost electrified. The palette of nighttime greys around her was muted but beautiful.

  It was only moments until she was there. She saw him, still curled up in a ball, right where she had left him. Without hesitation, she walked over to him softly and lay down beside him, curling up against him. She felt him jolt awake and take a few quick breaths. Then he became completely still. She had a moment of doubt, wondering whether he would leave. A second later, he pressed up against her and shared his warmth. She breathed out and smiled. This was where she was needed to be.

  They didn’t talk for a few hours, enjoying the feeling of warm fur and sides moving together in breath. Eventually, Scruff stretched out and sat up, looking at her curiously.

  “So.”

  She opened her eyes and glanced at him. “So.”

  He raised his eyebrows. She sighed, admitting, “I’m joining your pack.”

  His laugh was sharp and surprised. “My pack?”

  “Well, yes. We’re making a pack.”

  “How do you know I want to do that?”

  Pica raised her eyebrows at him.

  “Fine. Well, if we do, we’re not going to live with your family.”

  “Obviously. That’s the point of making a new pack.”

  “But … why? Are you sure?”

  “Not really,” she replied honestly. “This is new for me. I just knew I had to come back to you.”

  “Well …” Scruff paused, looking away. Then he looked back at her and said, hesitantly, “Okay.”

  “It’s not completely selfless, you know. I like hanging out with you.”

  “Me, too.”

  Pica began to feel uncomfortable, and got back to business. “The main thing to decide is where we’re going to live.”

  “You’re moving so quickly!” Scruff laughed, then thought about it. “That’s a tough one. There isn’t a lot of good territory around here that hasn’t already been claimed. Most of what is left is either smaller, unconnected patches of green or the busy parts of the city.”

  “Way to start out with a positive attitude,” Pica laughed. “Are you having doubts already? Scared to be in my pack?”

  “Oh, now it’s your pack, is it?”

  Pica smiled. “Well, so far I’m the only one with the good ideas.”

  “Good ideas?” Scruff snorted. “Your good idea is what? That we wander around randomly trying to find somewhere to live
? I definitely have better ideas than that.”

  “Okay, then. What do you think we should do?”

  “I’ll only tell you if we call it my pack.”

  “I’ll only decide when I hear your idea.”

  Scruff shook his head, rolling his eyes, looking happier than she had seen him in a long time. “Fine. Remember when I was telling you about Mala? She was that old coyote who told me how to get back across the highway. Well, she originally came from this place on the other side of the bridge — she called it the Wild Lands. I could barely see it from where I was standing on the beach, but she knew about it because she had been born there. She said that it was different, fewer humans, and that there was lots of territory available.”

  Pica considered this for a moment. “What do you think that means, wild? I mean, how is it different than here?”

  “I’m not sure. But I want to find out.”

  “What about Storm?”

  Scruff nodded. “Yes, that’s a problem. But I think I know a way to get there that doesn’t involve passing through their territory.”

  Pica frowned, and then realized what he was saying. “No. I’m not swimming. I’ve never even tried it — I’ll drown for sure.”

  “No, you won’t. It’s instinctual. Anyway, we can stick close to the shoreline and take breaks. It will just help us stay out of the way.”

  Pica hesitated a moment, then responded, “Okay.”

  “Okay?”

  “Yup. I’m in.”

  “All right.” Scruff smiled, feeling excited for the first time that he could remember. “So, what about your family, then?”

  “Well, I’ll obviously tell them about my decision.”

  “They won’t be happy.”

  “Probably not. But they love me, and anyway, we both know that pups don’t always stay with their parents. It’s not uncommon for a few to go off and start a new pack.”

  “With the coyote who killed their father?”