Night of the Howling Dogs (6 page)

Later still, I woke again.

I didn’t know why; just a feeling.

I sat up, my sleeping bag twisted around me. Casey was a dark lump snoring on the other side of the shelter. Nothing moved outside by Zach’s tent.

So, so quiet.

There was only the sea, breathing in, breathing out. Hushed rolling waves out in the blackness.

But something had awakened me.

I got up and slipped out into the night.

Pu’u Kapukapu loomed above, solid black. Brilliant stars winked in the moonless sky beyond it. The soft ocean. The shadow of the coconut grove. Zach’s tent. All was as it should have been. I was about to go back into the shelter when I saw the silhouettes on the crest of the cliff.

Two dogs.

Early the next morning Mr. Bellows and Reverend Paia took Sam, Billy, Tad, and Zach on a hike up the coast, where they would stop to see the old Hawaiian heiau Reverend Paia had mentioned. Casey said there had been human sacrifices there in the olden days, but I didn’t believe it. After that, they’d hike on to identify plants and sea life and work on some of their advancement requirements.

Mr. Bellows wanted to get started early so they could work before the sun became more of an enemy than a friend. After ten, they would fry. Where they were going, shade didn’t exist.

“Mr. Bellows,” I said, “while you’re gone, can me and Casey swim out to the island?”

Mr. Bellows thought as he boiled catchment water for his canteen over the small propane stove. “I’d really rather you waited until we get back.”

I glanced out toward the island, called Keaoi, which was little more than a mound of rocks rising out of the sea. An easy swim, about fifty yards.

“We’ll be careful, Dad,” Casey said.

Mr. Bellows turned off the propane and looked up. “All right, fine…but listen, you can only do it if Mike and Louie go with you. In fact…” He looked back over his shoulder. “Mike, Louie, come here a minute.”

“Sir?” Mike said.

“Dylan and Casey want to swim out to the island today. I said they could, but only if you and Louie went with them. That okay with you?”

“No problem, Mr. Bellows.”

“Good. Since you four will be here alone while we’re gone, I’d like you to stick together. That’d make me feel better.”

“Sure, we can do that.”

There goes the day, I thought. But I really wanted to swim to the island, even if Louie had to be there.

Mr. Bellows poured boiled water into his canteen, then into Reverend Paia’s. The younger Scouts were doing the same at their own fire. I still had a little fresh water left, and was drinking it as slowly as possible. Not a great idea, considering how badly you needed to stay hydrated down here. But just the smell of catchment water made me gag.

Mr. Bellows stuck his canteen into his small day pack, then slapped on his Dodgers cap. “You remember the heat equation, Casey?”

“High temperature plus high humidity plus physical work equals heat illness or death.”

“Exactly. Remember that, and stay hydrated.”

“Can we use the propane to boil catchment water?”

“Sure, just be sure you turn it off afterwards.”

I looked up, feeling someone’s eyes on me. Louie smiled. Did he know I was trying to make my fresh water last? I frowned and looked away.

Louie smirked.

By seven-thirty the younger guys were ready for their hike. I wondered, if Louie was going to be a Scout, why wasn’t Mr. Bellows taking him, too? Mr. Bellows hadn’t let the rest of us slide like that.

“Men,” Mr. Bellows said, giving us a snappy marine salute. Except for when we had a formal meeting, he preferred that salute to the three-fingered Scout one.

We gave him full-on
semper fidelis
salutes back. Except for Louie, who stood leaning against a coconut tree with his arms crossed.

They left, a slow line snaking out over the rocks.

“Time to swim!” I said.

Casey and I went back to the shelter.

I took another sip of fresh water. I could have guzzled two gallons. Already it was hot and my throat was dry. Was the heat equation starting to work on me? Maybe death was just around the corner. I drained my canteen. Now I
had
to drink catchment water. But not just yet.

We yanked on our swim shorts and ran down to the small beach. The ocean was calling me…. Dylan, come swim.

Louie and Mike were still at the main campsite. Mike was putting snacks the young guys had left out into plastic bags so the bugs wouldn’t get to them. Louie was throwing his knife into another tree. Mike got him to stop and the two of them picked trash up around the coconut grove, taking their time.

“Mike!” I shouted. “Let’s go!”

“Stop yelling,” Casey said. “It’ll only make them take longer.”

We sat looking at the sea glittering like a field of jewels in the sun. “So,” I said, glancing back at the grove. Mike and Louie weren’t in a hurry to go swimming. “You were telling me about how your dad found Louie in a warehouse.”

“I don’t know if I should be telling anybody about that.”

“Too late. You already did. Come on, Case, why did he run away from home?”

Casey grumbled, then said, “In a way, he didn’t.”

“What does that mean?”

“His parents didn’t even know he was gone.”

I gaped. “Get out of here.”

“True…. See…according to Dad, Louie’s family is kind of…well…as Dad said it, the family had completely disintegrated.”

“Meaning?”

“The mother and father were like zombies. Dad said they were so depressed they had no idea Louie had left the house to live somewhere else. Anyway, his older brother did it all the time.”

“Why were they depressed?”

Casey shrugged. “Out of work. Drinking. Drugs. No money, no hope…who knows?”

I whistled, low. “What about his brother?”

Casey glanced back to make sure Louie and Mike weren’t coming up on us. “Kind of a nasty guy. One day he got in a fight with the dad, beat him up, and took all his money. Put the dad in the hospital. The cops arrested Louie’s brother, and he ended up in youth correction for a while.”

“Hoo,” I said, shaking my head.

“No kidding.”

“What about the dad? He all right?”

“I guess, but after that, he started sliding. Him and the mother both, straight downhill. Eventually they got so out of it that Louie couldn’t take it anymore, so he left and found that warehouse and moved in.”

“And he still went to school?”

“Yeah, and he got that job at Jimmy’s Place. He gave almost all his cash to his parents to pay the bills, because neither of them had a job.”

Ho, I thought, the schoolkid taking care of the parents. Paying the bills.

“When payday came, he cashed his check, bought some food for his hideaway, then took the rest and left it on the kitchen table at home. His parents just picked it up and spent it…didn’t even wonder where it came from.”

“Can you really be that far out of it?”

“Looks like it. Dad’s seen other people like that.”

I lifted my head as a breeze blew in off the water. It felt like a silk scarf flowing over my face. “So what did your dad do? I mean, about Louie?”

“Made a deal with him. If Louie went back home, Dad wouldn’t turn him in for trespassing.”

“And Louie just did it?”

Casey nodded. “Not only that, he was respectful about it, and that’s why Dad took a liking to him. He doesn’t see that very often. Dad went out of his way to get someone from social services to work with Louie’s parents, and he goes by once or twice a week, too. Takes them fresh fish when he can get it, fruit, stuff like that. But here’s the kicker…part of the deal was that Louie had to come to Scouts.”

“Jeese,” I spat.
“Why?”

Casey lifted his shoulders. “I guess he thinks Scouts will help him.”

“Or ruin us.”

“Maybe.”

“No relatives?”

“Guess not.”

I shook my head. “Why Louie? Your dad must run into a hundred tough guys every week. Got to be more to it.”

Casey tossed a pebble into the ocean. “Most of those other guys go in and out of the police station five times a day. Dad said Louie was clean as a bar of soap.”

“Clean?”

“No police record…. Did you know he walks to the meetings?”

I squinted at Casey.

“You didn’t know?”

“Never thought about it. He just shows up…when he comes.”

“You saw how far away his house is.”

I nodded.

“Five miles,” Casey said. “That’s how far he walks for Scouts.”

“Not for Scouts, Case…for your dad. Louie couldn’t care less about Scouts.”

“That’s probably true.” Casey cocked his head and thought a moment. “You know, Dad could be the first guy in Louie’s life that ever gave a rip about him.”

“But what—”

“Shhh. Here they come.”

I looked over my shoulder. Louie and Mike were slouching toward us, shirtless. A pudge and a muscleman. The shark’s tooth hanging around Louie’s neck made me think of the shark Mr. Bellows had warned us about. The skull just gave me the creeps.

“You ready?” Mike said.

Casey stood and took off his T-shirt. “Ready yesterday.”

I couldn’t help looking at Louie. It was as if there was some kind of weird magnet between us. As hard as I tried, it just wasn’t possible to ignore him, or even pretend I could.

“Whatchoo looking at, haole?” he said. The muscles in his jaw rippled. His eyes were empty of anything good.

I turned away, shaking my head.

“You like go round with me, punk?” he said.

“No.”

“Good choice.”

The water was warm, calm, and so clear you could see the bottom as easily as looking through glass. Which was good, because there were a zillion
wana
down there, spiky black sea urchins that would stab poison into your foot if you stepped on them.

Inside I felt like a smoldering dump fire. Who needs sour looks and someone trying to push you around, ruining your life? I’d come here to get away from that.

“Out of my way,” Louie said, shoving past us.

He went in first and bobbed out awkwardly, then started churning up a lot of foam as he dog-paddled toward the island. Well, I’ll be, I thought. Mr. Bad Man can’t swim. That made me feel better.

Louie splashed across the water to where he could touch bottom, and made it up onto the island without stepping on any wana.

The rest of us glided around underwater like fish, me with my glasses clutched in my hand, the fishing-line cord curled around my wrist. I did my best to make the swim look effortless, as if I’d been born to the sea.

The island was just a pile of rocks with a little dirt and a handful of weeds. We climbed onto it and sat in the sun. I blew the water off my glasses and put them back on.

Wow…what a view!

Across the way, our camp in the coconut grove looked tiny under the massive cliff. The wall was a thousand feet high, a face of boulders that dwarfed everything below it. I scanned the ridgeline, remembering the night before. “Last night I saw two dogs up there. They were looking down on us.”

Casey shaded his eyes and gazed up at Pu’u Kapukapu. “Maybe they were those same ones we saw before.”

“That was my thought, too.”

After a pause, Louie said, “They following us.”

I glanced at him.

He turned away, looked at the ocean.

Mike said, “Prob’ly hoping to snack on our food.”

Minutes passed in silence. I studied the desolate landscape, the southernmost point of the entire United States. It was beautiful…in a barren kind of way.

“Ho!” Mike said. “Look.”

Just offshore, weaving its way in and out of the shallow waters between where we sat and our camp, was a sleek gray fin.

Shark.

I felt my hair rise, watching it move. There was a round hole in its fin, a wound that had puckered and healed discolored. The shark was nosing through the reef, feeding, minding its own business.

But sharks are sharks. One scent of blood, sweat, or fear and they could go nuts. This one wasn’t that big, but it was big enough to make my gut twist into a knot.

“That’s going to make swimming back interesting,” Casey said.

“Wait it out,” Mike said. “It’ll go away.”

I put up my hand. “Don’t move. If it knows we’re here, it might wait around for us to get in the water.”

Louie laughed. “Right.”

“Well, maybe it will. What do you know?”

“Sharks don’t think.”

“It smells us,” Mike said. “Lunch.”

“Shuddup, Mike,” Casey said.

Louie stood, looking at the shark, steady and cool. “You ready fo’ swim back?”

Casey’s jaw dropped. “You
crazy
?”

“You scared of it?”

The shark was gliding right in front of us now. The hole in its fin looked like a battle scar.

Casey shaded his eyes and looked up at Louie. “Not scared, Louie…smart.”

I nodded, not looking at Louie.

Mike, too, seemed to agree. He stood when Louie did, but made no move to go near the water. “You joking, right?”

“I don’t believe this,” Louie said. “
All
of you are scared? The shark not even big as you, Mike…look.”

The turning fin swirled the surface like a spoon stirring water, snaking around. “Small sharks still have sharp teeth,” I said. “Maybe you don’t mind losing your foot, but I sure do.”

Louie looked long at me, then said, “Stupid four-eye no-guts haole.”

“Shuddup, Louie,” Casey said. “I don’t like that shark, either.”

“
Two
no-guts haoles.”

Casey shook his head.

Mike kept his mouth shut, but I could tell he was worried. Louie wasn’t stupid, but I didn’t doubt he’d go out and swim with that shark just to prove he was a big man and we weren’t.

“We go, Mike,” Louie said. “Your senior patrol loser said we buddies, right? We got to stick together.”

“Yeah, but…
tst…
how’s about this time instead of me sticking with you, you stick with
me
?”

Louie glared at him.

Mike sighed and started toward the water.

Louie waggled his eyebrows at me and Casey. “Watch how men do it.”

Louie waded in up to his waist, bending over to study the wana, stepping around them. The shark sensed him there and scooted off, then turned and circled back. Louie watched it as he slipped into the water, to his waist, his chest, his neck. He started paddling, slapping his way across to the beach. I cringed. Splashing like that was one of the worst things you could do—the shark would think you were a fish in trouble and attack.

Mike watched, open-mouthed, knee-deep.

The shark meandered toward Louie. Curious.

Louie turned and hit the water hard with his open hand. The shark darted away.

Then came back.

But by then Louie had made it to the beach. He slogged out and shouted back, “No sweat, brah.”

“Right,” Mike mumbled. “No sweat.”

“You don’t have to do it,” I said.

“Shuddup.”

Mike waited until the shark was as far away as it was going to get, then dove in and swam as if ten barracudas were nipping at his toes. Only then did I realize how strong a hold Louie had on Mike.

The shark nosed closer, more or less chasing him.

“Man, that’s stupid!” Casey said.

“That shark is
really
curious now.”

“All right!” Louie said, slapping hands with Mike as Mike scrambled up the beach.

“Easy!” Mike shouted to me and Casey, now thrilled to find himself alive. He and Louie whooped it up on the sand, rubbing their bravery in our faces.

“Look at those morons,” I said.

We sat.

The shark swam, in, out, in, out.

“Let’s go together,” Casey said. “Make it look like we might be too much to mess with.”

“I don’t like the word
might.
”

“Yeah.”

“Or we could just wait until it goes away.”

“That would be the smart thing.”

Minutes passed. The sun blasted down, and the water on my back evaporated to crystals of salt. The shark seemed to have all the time in the world, cruising, waiting.

“But we’re not very smart, are we,” I said.

“No.”

We got up.

The shark seemed to know what we were thinking, never straying from the path between us and the beach. Small whirlpools erupted around its fin whenever it turned. I could even see its eye, looking. I wiped my palms on my damp shorts.

Casey tossed a rock at it. The shark jolted. Casey threw another one and it shot out to sea.

Gone.

Tired of this game.

We jumped in and swam like spooked sardines. Near shore, something rough in the water rubbed up against me, like sandpaper…. Shark skin!

I yelped, beating at it with my fists.

Casey hit the sand and stumbled up the beach, looking back, shouting, “Run, Dylan! Run!”

The thing grabbed my legs. “Get it off! Get it off!”

It fell away as I staggered ashore, my heart slamming in my chest. I looked back.

At an old submerged palm frond.

Louie and Mike laughed so hard they fell on the sand and cried.