Summer of the Wolves (16 page)

“Okay. Quiet,” said Thomas. Nika hadn't said a thing. She followed the direction of Thomas's eyes.

At first she couldn't see anything, but then she saw two fiery eyes framed in a light shadow among the low bushes where Thomas had dumped the turkey. The shadow floated in front of scraggly trunks of balsam and spruce. The shape of a triangular tawny head emerged slowly. Tall pointed ears. Nika felt the force of the tan wolf”s golden eyes as its body pulled slowly from the trees, as smoothly as a dancer. The wolf was so long legged, so tall, so thin. Nika was used to Khan's pup-size body. It stood for a moment, then lightly trotted across the rock to Thomas's gift. It settled with the turkey between its paws and began to eat, bones and all.

“Luna, meet Nika. Nika, meet Luna,” whispered Thomas.

“She has a name?” Nika whispered back, trying to restrain her excitement so as not to scare the wolf.

“I named her Luna because she is so pale colored, like the moon. She's the one that ran away from Bristo's, I'm sure of it. She's got a collar. You can barely see it, but it's there. You can see where it has worn away some fur. And she's hungry. She always looks like she wants to come down here, but she never does.”

“How did you find her?”

“Remember after we released Bristo's animals, we were sitting in the boat looking at the eagles and I said I saw something? Later I came back with my camera, and I saw her at the fish pile. I wanted to take photos of her, so I followed with my boat till I found this place where she seems to hang out.”

“Is she dangerous?”

“I don't think so. Scared, maybe. She always looks curious, like she knows me. I'm beginning to wonder if she belonged to someone before Bristo. Because of the collar. Somehow I can't see her allowing Bristo to put a collar on her.”

They watched the wolf eat for a few minutes.

“I suppose she could be a wolf that had been in a study. But the collar isn't fat with a box, like a radio collar.”

“They stick out,” Nika said. She remembered the collar on the dead wolf.

“I'm worried she can't make it through winter on this island. People dump fish guts, but only in the summer. And once the ice forms, she might go into town looking for food and get into trouble. Or worse, if she goes to town, Bristo might shoot her.”

Nika told Thomas about seeing the man in the boat. She was sure it was Bristo now. And Thomas agreed Bristo had probably been looking for Luna. That had been weeks ago.

They were silent for a long time, just watching the wolf eat. When she was mostly finished, she took a chunk of meat up to the edge of the forest, where she dug a hole and shoved dirt with her nose.

“Caching,” Thomas said.

“Just like Khan.”

 

On the way home, Thomas drove slowly. He pulled up into a fishing cove, turned off the motor, and anchored. At first they didn't speak.

In a quiet, sad voice, Nika finally said, “I don't think I can keep Khan.”

“I know. You must be disappointed.”

“But what can I do? He doesn't belong anyplace. I don't know what Ian was thinking when he took him from the den.”

“Khan would have died, Nika.”

“I know. No, it was right to take him, but I wish we could just let him go again.”

“He would probably starve. He doesn't know how to hunt.”

They were silent again as small waves made metallic slaps against the side of the boat. The sky was exactly the same gray color as the water. It was as if they were floating in the sky.

“If Luna goes into town, someone will shoot her. We should tell,” Nika said. “Who would we tell?”

“They might send her to some wolf rescue place, where they take wolves that people have tried to keep as pets.”

“Maybe
both
wolves could live free, together?” said Nika, sitting up. The thought of losing Khan forever wrenched her. But the thought of him having a wild life felt right to her.

“Maybe even have pups!” Thomas smiled.

They high-fived each other. Then unspoken doubts slowed the momentum of their enthusiasm.

“Should we tell about Luna?” Thomas asked.

“Let's not for a while. Ian's back tomorrow. Let's just see what happens the next few days.”

“Sure,” he said, pulling the cord on the motor.

 

Now the wolf watched for the two humans to come. She heard the metal scraping, then their voices, gentle and low. She wanted to go to them, to greet them like she had the woman, to roll on the ground nearby. But she remembered the man and the cage, and she stayed behind branches.

When Nika got home that evening, she took Khan for a short run, returned him to his pen, fed him, then went to bed early. As she stared out the window at stars caught in graceful webs of black branches, she felt the heavy weight of questions. It seemed impossible to figure out what was right for the two wolves.

At times like this her grief hovered in the room like a dark winged creature. She squeezed her eyes shut and remembered Meg saying to her,
Find a favorite memory, and run it through your mind. When you lose someone, you have to find new ways to feel close.
Meg used to say her memories were her jewels to keep forever.

Nika pulled the photo album from her shelf and found the picture of the three of them around the caterpillar birthday cake Mom made for Nika when she was six. And the one of all of them petting a pilot whale at Sea World. She turned to the ones taken on their trip to Maine. She had just turned ten. Their last trip together. There was a flash picture her mom had taken after she got them out of bed to chase fireflies in their pajamas. Nika remembered feeling the wet grass, laughing, and reaching for the tiny winking lights. On the last page was a photo of her dad in his uniform. She was surprised to see that he looked a little like Ian. She wondered how much they were alike. She had very few memories of her dad. He left her mom shortly after Randall was born to go into the military. She still wished he was in their lives. It always hurt to think of him dying in a munitions accident overseas.

After visiting the photos she felt even more awake. The volunteer hadn't been able to come tonight, and she began to wonder if Khan was lonely. She tiptoed downstairs, grabbed a flashlight and the smelly sleeping bag, and went up the path to the hill pen. When she clinked through the gate, there was no sign of the pup. The stars were so bright, she could see without the flashlight. After lying down in the sleeping bag, she whimper-whined for the pup. He staggered groggily out of the dark and curled his small body on the ground close to her face. He sniffed her closed eyelids, rested his nose on the side of her face with a sigh, then readjusted when his nose slipped off. After he settled, she gently moved him so he snuggled against the curve of her stomach and folds of the sleeping bag. She felt the thrill of touching his rough fur and listening to his hoarse breathing. Even in the coolness, every muscle in her body relaxed. She had to smile. How many people had slept with a wolf ? When she saw the first pale light in the sky, she eased the pup into her warm spot on the sleeping bag and returned to the house.

 

The next afternoon Ian returned. Pearl came up and spent some time with Nika, watching Zeus and Khan chase wildly around the pen. Nika and Pearl both laughed when little Zeus stood his ground, growling, causing Khan to roll on the ground submissively.

“Khan doesn't realize he's going to be a hundred-pound wolf someday,” Pearl said.

“Neither does Zeus.”

Nika felt shy around Ian his first night home. Dinner was low key, and she stayed busy helping Pearl. Did he know about her treks to the Big Island and Khan getting lost? What about Bristo ? Did he suspect her part in the release of Bristo's animals? After dinner Randall stayed downstairs playing Monopoly with Ian and Pearl until Ian took him back to the Camerons'. Nika decided to go to bed early.

The next morning thin pink light fell in ribbons across Nika's bed. Voices plucked at the fabric of her sleep. From downstairs she heard Ian talking, and the husky sweet voice of Pearl. They spoke in measured, serious tones. Nika slipped from her bed and tiptoed to the top of the stairs. She just heard mumbles, but she felt sure they were talking about her.

That afternoon Ian buzzed over to the Camerons' to fetch Randall and a boatload of his gear for a few days' visit. Nika looked forward to having Randall with her again. Since he had only met Khan briefly as a tiny pup, Randall was thrilled to spend most of the morning in the hill pen, sitting with his back against the fence, watching the pup race and dig. When Khan threw himself onto the ground next to Randall and fell asleep, Randall grinned, waving at Nika and pointing down at the resting pup as she walked around cleaning up scat.

When they came down from the pen, Ian said, “Come on, you two,” and led them outside, smiling like he had a big surprise hidden in the woods. He opened the doors of a crawl space tucked beneath Pearl's cabin and plunged into the dark. Soon packs and old dented aluminum pots and pans came flying out.

“Leaving for Russia?” Nika asked.

“No,” Ian said, handing her a small ax. “But I thought it was time I took you two on a short canoe trip. Just the three of us.”

The pile of packs and plastic containers grew at Nika's feet.

“You know, just being here is kind of like camping already,” she said, her voice trailing off.

“Take this tent, will you, Nika?” Ian held out a large green bag. She laid it on the ground with the other stuff. A tent meant sleeping.

Randall bent over, eager to help. Ian handed him a sleeping bag, then another.

“So how does this work? We paddle to a place, camp there, then come home?” Nika was wondering how long she would have to be away from Khan. And Luna.

“Just three nights. Elinor will sleep in my cabin, so she'll be around to watch over Khan. Anyway, the place I have in mind is just a couple of lakes north of here, in the wilderness area. Four short portages in, I know of a great campsite. We can stay there, then fish and explore the lake each day. Here, Randall, can you take these sleeping pads?” Ian pulled himself out of the crawl space and shut the door.

“That's kind of a long time, isn't it?” A hint of a whine threaded through Nika's voice. She imagined a troop of eager volunteers descending on Khan's pen.

“Next is my favorite part—planning the food,” Ian said, grabbing several packs and striding back toward Pearl's kitchen.

“S'mores!” Randall shouted, dragging bags on the ground and following.

 

After seemingly endless hours of measuring portions of biscuit mix, oatmeal, and peanut butter, cutting cheese, labeling plastic bags, and checking off equipment lists, they were finally ready. On the day of the trip, dressed in her shorts and boots and three layers of shirts, Nika ran up to give Khan the meatballs with the vitamins, then raced down to meet Ian and Randall and Zeus at the sand spit. Ian waded into the water in his hiking boots and started loading the canoe.

“Wet foot camping,” he announced. After the packs and fishing gear were in, Ian scooped up Zeus and waded out to put him on top. “He loves canoe trips,” Ian smiled as the small dog snuggled down between two packs.

Ian held the canoe while Randall waded, then climbed into the center area, his new boots streaming water. Randall sat cross-legged, not even complaining that he sat in a puddle.

“That's called duffing, sitting in the middle. Like a king, the duffer gets to ride,” Ian said.

Her hands on her hips, Nika stood motionless on the yellow sand.

In water up to his knees, Ian calmly waited with both hands on the gunwales to steady the canoe. “This is a very old wood and canvas canoe,” he said, “and I would hate for it to get scratched or damaged in any way. So we do it this way.” To Nika, he gestured at the front seat with his head.

“My boots will get wet,” she protested.

Ian looked down at his own wet boots and smiled.

“Okay,” she said with exasperation. She splashed out, and as she climbed in, she scooped up a few quarts of water. The coolness of the water filled her boots. It wasn't as bad as she thought it would be.

At first the paddling was easy. They glided soundlessly over the still water. It was so different from the noisy motorboat, to really feel and hear the water moving under them. Nika was impressed that they were carrying everything they would need for three days in just three packs. This was what it must have been like a long time ago. As they turned up a long bay of Anchor Lake, Ian told them that from now on they were in a wilderness area, where cabins or motors weren't allowed, just canoes and campsites. He said people needed permits from the Forest Service to come here.

On the first portage Ian carried a pack and the canoe, whistling as he bobbed up the narrow, winding trail that connected Anchor Lake to the next small lake. Nika's pack was heavy, but when they got to the end of the portage, she felt like she'd really accomplished something. After the next portage, Randall took a turn paddling and Nika duffed as they headed down a winding river edged with tall grasses. They stopped paddling to watch a moose lift her head from the water, dripping water and weeds from her mouth. After a short muddy portage to Elbow Lake, they paddled through a narrows, then crossed an expanse of water. Everything was so quiet, except for the splashing of their paddles and the bird song from the shore. They pulled into a tiny island to switch places and have a trail lunch. After eating, Randall seemed glad to be the duffer again, spreading a big yellow and blue map across his knees.