Summer of the Wolves (9 page)

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Authors: Polly Carlson-Voiles

BOOK: Summer of the Wolves
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“Are you going out in the boat with Jake and the boys?”

“No, I'll just head back. Say, is there a path along the shore?”

“Yes, there is,” Claire answered. “It's practically a highway of smooth rock. There's even a small beach along the way, probably the best swimming spot on the island.” Bringing over a bowl of grapes and apples, Claire studied Nika for a minute.

“I heard about the pup. That will keep you busy!” She laughed. “What will happen with the pup in the fall, do you know? Does Ian have some sort of plan?”

Nika looked at Claire and shrugged. But inside she felt a crash. Of course Ian would have ideas about the pup's future. Right now she didn't want to ask. First, she needed a plan of her own. Maybe she could take the pup back to Pasadena with her. He would still be small then, wouldn't he? Olivia's mom was always rescuing animals. Nika was glad when Claire dropped the subject.

After they finished eating, Thomas said, “Dad said meet him at the dock,” and the boys rushed out as if it were a rule that boys in a group must run. Clearing her own things to the sink Nika said, “Well, thanks for lunch,” not wanting to stick around for any conversations about the pup's future.

Standing on the cabin steps, Nika watched as Randall and Thomas put their things together on the dock. It was good that he was so happy. Just like Meg used to say: We need to learn to depend on other people, not just on each other.

Nika shouted at Randall, “Have fun!” and called back through the door to Claire, “Thanks again!” The boys were already in the boat. The father had loaded poles and gear.

“'Bye, Neeks!” yelled Randall at the tops of his lungs.

After finding the path by the water, Nika began to walk along the smooth shoulders of the rock formations. Looking ahead, she saw giant boulders perched there as though they had been thrown by a giant's hand. She wondered about the bear the boys had talked about and felt uneasy.

 

The sky began to clear when Nika was nearly halfway across the Big Island, going along the shore. Just as she was beginning to relax, she heard a crash in the woods. A large blackish animal with no tail raced away. It was kind of chubby and ran with a rocking motion. In an instant, she knew. She froze. But it was racing away from
her,
as though she were some Tyrannosaurus rex in jeans and a sweatshirt! After some minutes of taking deep breaths to control her fear, she continued on. The bear seemed to be headed toward the center of the island. She didn't know much about bears, but there were plenty of scary stories about them, enough to keep her hyperalert, watching for shadows in the trees. Her comfort in this new place was shaken.

One way to avoid watching for bears every minute was to distract herself by thinking of a name for the pup. She thought of her favorite photograph of a wolf, one she had cut out of a magazine at home and put in a scrapbook. The wolf looked regal, his chin held high; he looked proud, strong. Princely. But Prince was too corny. A dog's name. A royal name would be good, though. She remembered last year in English class when they read a legend about Shan Yu, the Blue Wolf of Mongolia, and how the great Genghis Khan was called the Blue Wolf.

“Khan,” she said, stopping for a minute to speak out loud to the rocks and trees and lapping water. “I'm going to call him Khan.”

Aiming for the flattest rocks, she began to hop along again, excited to tell Ian about the name. Ahead a smooth rock jutted out, like a giant's arm resting in the water. There were footholds in the steep side, and she soon found herself surrounded on three sides by water, high and dry and far from trees. There was one boulder on the top of this rock shelf, as though dropped there by someone. It might make a nice backrest. She plopped down, leaned, and watched Randall's boat disappear behind an island on the far side of the lake. She felt the sun on her skin. The rock reassured her. There were no more crashing sounds. Confidence trickled back into her body.

Down from her rock and just ahead a small yellow band of beach nestled in a cove. It looked private and protected. This must be the Big Berry swimming beach Claire had talked about. Maybe she'd go there and get her feet wet.

When she looked out at the large lake again, three clouds hung in the bright blue sky, as if they'd been stuck up there with tape. In the distance a couple of fishing boats were dots on the water. She lay back, feeling the sun's warmth seep up from the rock into her body. The sloshing sounds of the water made her sleepy.

 

Nika awakened to the sound of a hollow metal banging, as when oars hit the sides of an aluminum boat. A motor coughed and died. She heard a man's voice swearing. Ugly knifelike words. Words she didn't expect to hear lying on this rock, but words she'd heard before. She sat up to see a man standing unsteadily in the back of a fishing boat. He seemed to be about to land at the small beach. His words slurred, he shouted something like “Good for nothing animal, I'll kill her when I find her . . .” The man had a long untrimmed beard and shapeless tan clothes. He held on to a pole. Suddenly he spotted her, lost his footing, and sat down hard on the aluminum seat. For a minute he just stared.

Nika stood up and yelled, “Get out of here!” In moments her feet moved so fast she was hardly aware of sprinting across the broad surface of the rock and bounding into the woods. She kept running until she was out of breath. When she stopped to listen, she heard a motor start up. She continued breaking through the woods until she found the center path, looked quickly for bears, then jogged the rest of the way back to the sand spit that linked the two islands.

When Nika reached the crossing, she hid behind some bushes, looked down the inlet, and listened. There was no one. She ran across. The bear had been a little scary, but nothing like that creepy man. Why had he been poking around? What animal was he yelling about?

 

Back at Pearl's, she sterilized her shoes and entered the screened and plastic-enclosed porch. Ian was half asleep on his sleeping bag, a large pile of books beside him. The pup was on Ian's chest, wobbling on its stubby legs.

“Your turn,” he said, getting up and placing the pup on his bag, where it teetered and fell over. Ian directed her to the kitchen, and to the written instructions for making formula, now typed and posted on the cupboard door.

She concentrated on getting the formula proportions right and warming it to the perfect temperature. With the bottle in her hand, she stepped over the baby gate into the house.

“Ian,” she said, “I saw this guy with a long beard in a boat by Big Berry Beach. He didn't land or do anything, but he swore a lot, saying he was going to shoot some blankety-blank animal. Then he drove his boat away.” She handed him the bottle.

Ian sat feeding the pup with his shoulders pulled forward, a worried expression tightening his eyes. “Did he speak to you or threaten you?” His voice was tense. The pup pulled away from the bottle, and Ian calmed him.

“Nooo,” she said, letting the word stretch and linger. She shrugged. “I thought he was just some drunk.”

“What did he look like? Did he have a gun?”

She had to think. Uncertainty kept her from giving a good description. All she could remember was the long pole. “No, I don't think so.”

“You know he's gone?” Ian asked, pacing toward the door, then back again.

“I think so, but I couldn't tell. I was running. He started his motor.”

Ian paused and seemed to be thinking. “When you go over to the Big Island, find someone to go with you,” he said firmly.

“Okay.” His brisk manner startled her, as if maybe she had done something wrong.

 

Later, as they sat eating their supper of cold chicken and asparagus and leftover muffins, Nika said, “I thought of a name for the pup.”

“Tell me.” Ian passed her the honey.

“Khan,” she said. “You know, K-H-A-N, like a prince.”

When Ian didn't say anything right away, she asked, “Do you like the name?”

“Perfect,” he said. He seemed to be thinking about something else. “A prince . . .”

She told him then the story of the Blue Wolf and what they'd read in school.

“Well, I hope he isn't going to be like Genghis Khan, rampaging around destroying things,” said Ian. “Maybe our Khan will just conquer hearts.” She looked at him to see if he had really said what he said. Our Khan.

She had to admit, it was a cool thing to say.

 

That night she prepared formula for the last feeding before going to bed. After she came back to the porch and sat down, Ian handed her the pup. She settled the frantic little bundle between her left arm and her body and rubbed the nipple on his lips. There was energy in his grab, and he sputtered as he squeezed too hard again. She gently inserted her finger into the corner of his mouth to release the hold and started again. This time he drank it down in steady gulps.

“Well done, both of you,” said Ian, staring with admiration at the pup, who looked at them with two open milky blue eyes. Before long Khan's eyelids slumped, and he curled into the sheepskin, where he fell into a milk-induced sleep.

“Maybe we'll sleep tonight,” said Nika. Ian laughed and gently touched her on the head as he stood up and crossed the room.

 

The tan wolf hid in the shadows of the forest. Before many days passed, hunger drew her back toward the pens. Hearing angry shouts again, she ran. The sounds of snapping and booms fell behind her. This time she angled up a rocky hill following the smell of water. As she came out of wind-fallen trees, she saw the ground fall away to a lake below. She scrambled down, leaped into the water, and swam toward a nearby island. Overhead an eagle circled, screeching. Its shadow slipped across the body of the fleeing wolf.

Chapter Eight

What was that high-pitched wail? Nika briefly opened her eyes in the dark, then closed them. Curling away from the sound, she pulled deeper into her bag. She just wanted to go back to sleep. She was sliding back into a dream.

 

There was no sound in Nika's dream. She and her mom and Randall were sitting on the ground beside a waterfall in smog-filled southern California heat. Her mom smiled, her mouth moving with lost words. Her long wheat-colored hair coiled over her shoulder. Nika looked at the aqua blue pool beneath the falls. All three of them stood and pulled off their T-shirts. Nika's new bathing suit was bright red. Randall's blue shorts looked three sizes too big on his small bony body. Nika ran to be the first one in. The cold water sparked across her hot skin. She smiled as she rolled in the comforting arms of the water. Then through the underwater blue she saw her mom swim away, her outline lost in a blur of water. In just a second of time, her mom was gone. Nika kept swimming, trying to follow, wanting to shout out, but she couldn't. Then a strange high-pitched sound traveled through the water, and she pulled to the surface and gasped.

 

“Nika?” said a low rumbling voice.

Where was she? Why didn't her mom come to wake her? What was that sound? She was so tired.

“Nika, are you okay? Nika, did you hear the pup howl?”

Again, out of the darkness came a thin high-pitched sound. Suddenly she knew where she was and sat up. Ian clicked a switch, making an island of light in the corner of the porch. Out in the middle of the floor, all by himself in a pile of straw, was Khan, his head tipped up, sitting, his little front legs bracing him. He let out another miniature howl that turned into a whine at the end. She stood up and walked over, plopping down near him. She could feel the cold floor through her sweatpants. When Khan discovered she was there, he staggered up to her with bouncy steps.

“Look, he's trying to run,” she said to Ian, who had returned to his bag. She wasn't the only one who was completely worn out.

“He howled off and on for about five minutes, but I guess you didn't notice,” mumbled Ian from his bag. “You'll have to put that in your log. First howl at twenty days old.”

The pup snuffled up into her lap. “And,” she answered, “he's hungry.”

“I'll do the honors.” Ian slowly unfolded from his bag and stretched before going into the kitchen.

So many changes had happened since the pup's eyes opened. It was hard to believe it was already May twentieth. Feeding Khan every two hours, and dozing on the floor, had worn out both Ian and Nika. Pearl was due home in a couple of days, and Nika was looking forward to her help with Khan. While the pup slept, she'd been plowing through Ian's stack of books on wolves for her science report, making notes on cards. She couldn't believe how many he had on the subject. She wrote new notes every day, such as “Pups are in the neonatal stage from birth to when eyes open.” And “Wolf pups use all of their senses to identify and bond with their caregiver.” Khan could already tell her apart from someone else, just using his sense of smell.

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