The Eclipse of Moonbeam Dawson (7 page)

Moonbeam trotted to the edge of the water and carved a
G
for Gordy (as in Gordy Howe) and
D
for Dawson. He stood with his back to the sea, bent over the sand, so engrossed in carving the initials that when a large wave rolled in, breaking higher on the sand than any of the others, he got caught. Drenched. Completely soaked up to his shins.

“So much for letting fate decide.” He trudged back through the sand, his shoes squishing water with every step. Moonbeam looked down at his water-logged feet, imagining a pair of fantastic new shoes. Cool! With this new job there'd be money to get some incredible shoes. Like the players on the Grizzlies wear. It was so great that Vancouver was one of the first Canadian cities to get a team in the NBA. Maybe he could go to Port on his day off with his new friends and watch their games on TV and buy a Grizzlies T-shirt when he got those shoes.

Climbing back over the driftwood at the edge of the beach, he turned to look back at the ocean once more before setting out on the trail. The wind had picked up and the waves rolled into the shore, the white cascading foam spreading in great arcs far up onto the sand. And surfing, too. He'd buy a fantastic board and a wet suit and he and his new friends would head to the beach on their days off. By then he would have forgiven Wayne for leaving Canada and his new name would be Wayne G. (for Gretsky) Dawson. His new friends would call him Wet and Wild Wayne Dawson. He'd be a surfer king. Yes, he definitely liked the sound of that. Wet and Wild Wayne Dawson, King of the Surf.

Moonbeam jogged along the road, deep in thought imagining surfing with his new friends. Many of these new friends were girls who looked wonderful in their wet suits and in the little bathing suits they wore under the wet suits. Maybe one of these new friends would ask him to help her zip up her wet suit.

“Hey, Wet and Wild Wayne,” she'd smile sweetly at him, “give me a hand with my zipper, will you?”

“Yeah, Surfer King,” her beautiful friend would add, “me, too. I need a little help with my zipper. I seem to be all thumbs.”

Moonbeam saw himself reaching for their zippers, helping them get the tight black suits closed around their beautiful bodies in their little bathing suits, when he heard the sound of a loud crashing.

Oh no, she's right. Never should've hitched alone. Maybe it's that logger guy, come back for me. He found out we were at the protests in ninety-three and he's going to hit me over the head with his hatchet … then get out his chain saw! More rustling, then another loud crash. Moonbeam froze and stared into the brush.

A black bear stared back at him. Moonbeam tried to think but his brain was stuck.
They're more scared of us than we are of them.
He could hear his mother's voice.
The only time to worry is if you have food and if they are very, very hungry.
Oh no! What if I smell like the pizza I ate! Maybe he doesn't like goat cheese and artichoke heart pizza. Maybe this is a very traditional bear, only goes for cheese and sausage, or maybe pepperoni. He looks kind of skinny, though. He's probably a young bear, a teenager bear without a lot of experience. Maybe he doesn't know that he's not supposed to eat people.
They're more scared of us than we are of them.
That's what she had told him alright, when they first moved to Heather Mountain and he saw bears for the first time. But he had been six then and she had held his hand. If I move, will he smell the pizza? Maybe he doesn't like garlic. That pizza had a lot of garlic on it. Maybe he's thinking the same thing. Worried that if he moves, I'll shoot him. That I'll want to eat him.
More people hurt bears than bears hurt people.
There was her voice again. Guess the odds are on my side. Moonbeam cautiously took a step forward. He waited a bit, then took another, and with that, the bear turned and disappeared into the brush.

Moonbeam trotted out to the road. Now that it was gone and he was safely back on the highway, he thought it was a pretty cool bear. He stuck his thumb out and walked backwards, but after a bit decided not to hitch. He'd jog back to Harvey's. Seeing that bear had sure gotten his adrenaline going. Moonbeam jogged a little, then began to run. He felt like flying. He was so happy he felt like he could run forever, just keep going and going and going.

He was even happier after a few kilometers when he came to the road to Harvey's house, turned into it, and saw they were back. He couldn't wait to tell her about their jobs! Moonbeam slowed down and then walked the last half of the road to the house, breathing hard, trying to cool down.

“Mum!” He burst in the back door. Abby and Harvey were sitting at the kitchen table having coffee.

“Moonbeam, where were you?” Abby seemed upset.

“Long Beach. I just went out to—”

“Didn't you get my note?”

“Sure. I got it.”

“So why didn't you leave one for me?”

“I thought I'd be back by the time you were.”

“It's one-thirty. We've been back for almost two hours!”

“I didn't know how long it would take, exactly.”

“And how did you get there, I'd like to know!”

Harvey stood up and took his coffee cup to the sink. “I'm going to take Gretta down to the beach. See you later.”

“Thanks.” Abby smiled at him. “Sorry about this.”

Harvey put his hand on her shoulder and then left with Gretta. Moonbeam watched as the door closed behind them. Good. This is none of your business anyway.

“Listen, Mum. I'm back. There's no big deal. I don't want to argue because I've got some great news for us!” Moonbeam grinned.

“So do I.” Abby grinned back at him. “So do I.”

“You heard, too?”

“Heard what?” Abby was confused.

“About our jobs! That Goltz guy called and they want us both!” Moonbeam dribbled his imaginary ball around the kitchen and took his famous hook shot. “He's picking us up at nine tomorrow and we can move our stuff in those employee apartments. And I'll start work tomorrow night on the dinner shift! Isn't that great?” Moonbeam dribbled across the kitchen toward the hoop at the other end. This time he tried his famous slam dunk. The jam man. Y-E-S! “And all you have to do is fill out the application and they want you to work at the reservations. Just like at the Empress, Mum!”

“Moonbeam,” Abby frowned. “Sit down.”

“Why? What's the matter?” Moonbeam threw his imaginary ball over his shoulder and leaned against the wall.

“I didn't know Jim Goltz had called.”

“Well now you know and we can get our stuff and—”

“Will you please sit down!” she snapped.

“I can talk standing up!”

“Moonbeam, I'm not going to work at that place. I don't want to live there.”

“You're kidding, of course.” He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

“No, I'm not.”

“I don't get it. It's perfect. The lodge only takes up a small corner of the island. The rest of it is wild and completely undeveloped. Just what you love. And they have that store where you can sell your weaving.”

“I can't stand the people.”

“We don't know the people. Only Jim Goltz. What's the matter with him?”

“Not him. The guests. The kind of people who go there, it's what I grew up with, they all have this attitude and I can't stand it. The people from the states are the worst!”

“My whole life you've told me not to judge people without knowing them. To give people a chance! And here you are trashing this whole group of people you don't even know!”

“Moonbeam, will you just listen? I found something today that really is perfect for me. It's at Ellis Lake. I met the most wonderful woman, Artis Palmer. She owns about fifteen acres and there are some experimental solar-heated cabins.”

“Another friggin' experiment! You've tried it twice, this kind of commune crap, and it doesn't work!”

“This isn't a commune. The cabins are for rent and people are on their own. If they want to pool their resources it's up to them, but you can be as independent as you want. I met some of the people who were here in ninety-three. Moonbeam, I feel like I really belong on Palmer's Land. When I met Artis it was like meeting a kindred spirit.” Abby looked at him, pleadingly. “Can't you give it a chance? Just try it?”

“You never once think about me and what I need! I'm sick of being weird and living in the sticks. I want to be with more people my own age.”

“I rented the cabin,” Abby said quietly.

Moonbeam slammed his fist against the wall. “Fine! 'Cause you're going to live there without me! Jim Goltz will be at the dock at nine o'clock in the morning and you better believe I'm going to be there!”

Chapter Five

The next morning Harvey got up before dawn to get an early start for Sydney Inlet to work on salmon research for the biosphere project. This left Moonbeam and Abby to eat breakfast alone, which they did in complete silence. They had stayed out of each other's way, totally avoiding each other ever since their argument, and still hadn't spoken yet this morning. They sat across from each other, Abby with
The Westerly News
propped in front of her face, and Moonbeam staring out at the gray drizzle. He still wondered if there was a chance she might change her mind, but it seemed easier to start a conversation with the dog than his mother.

“Hey, Gretta.” Moonbeam patted her as she waited patiently by his side, hoping for a bit of his breakfast to come her way. “Why don't you come to Stere Island with me?”

“She lives here,” Abby said, folding the newspaper back. “She belongs here. She likes it here.”

“Yeah, right. Well, maybe they have a nice dog that hangs around the lodge that I can get to know.”

“Maybe they will.”

The night before, after calling Jim Goltz to let him know what had been decided, Moonbeam had unloaded the truck, removed all his stuff, and then repacked his mother's belongings. Carefully covering everything of hers with the tarp, he took his stuff to Harvey's back door where it would be safe from the rain. The pile of gear was relatively small; Moonbeam didn't have as much as a lot of boys his age. Just his sleeping bag, a duffel bag stuffed with clothes, a basketball, a soccer ball, a Walkman, and a backpack filled with tapes and his school stuff. The classes they had at the Happy Children of the Good Earth had been taught by Meadow's father, who had a B.C. teacher's certificate, but their assignments were processed by the North Island Regional Correspondence School in Port Alberni. Sometimes they were called correspondence kids.

“Sure you have everything for your school work?” Abby got up from the table and kneeled by the pack and started to unzip it.

“It's all there. Don't worry, I don't have to get the next assignment in for another two weeks.”

“Well, be sure and do it.”

“I always do. Mum?”

“What?”

“Are you sure you don't want to try it there?”

“No. And I know there's no changing your mind, so there's no point in discussing it.” Abby looked at her watch. “We best be going.”

“You're taking me to the dock?” He was surprised.

“Of course. How did you expect to get there with all that junk?”

“It all fits on my back.”

“Don't be ridiculous. Come on, let's go.”

*   *   *

They could see the yacht from the lodge coming down the inlet when they pulled into the parking lot. Moonbeam hopped out and began pulling his stuff off the back of the truck.

“I can carry some.” Abby came around and stood next to him.

“I've got it, Mum.”

“I'll take this,” she said, grabbing the basketball.

The boat was a few meters away when they reached the end of the dock. Abby clutched the basketball to her chest, fiercely protective as if it were a newborn baby. Then she ran a hand through her hair and her lower lip quivered.

“Sure you'll be okay?” Moonbeam asked.

“Of course.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Mum, I'll see you every week, on my days off.”

Abby wiped her eyes. “I know that.”

“Lots of kids will work there this summer and not live at home.”

She didn't say anything, just dabbed her eyes.

“Jim Goltz is the supervisor of everyone, it's not like people just run wild. And you'll be coming out to that shop with your weaving. So I'll see you then, too…”

She clutched the basketball closer.

“… and every week, on my day off.”

As the boat pulled up, Abby turned away, not wanting Jim Goltz to see her face. He threw Moonbeam a line, then jumped down on the dock.

“This is all, eh?”

“Yeah, I travel light.” Moonbeam smiled and picked up his gear.

“If you change your mind about that job, Abby, just give us a call.”

“Okay.” Abby pulled another Kleenex out of her pocket and blew her nose. “Sure is damp this morning.”

Moonbeam lifted the last of his gear onto the boat while Jim held the line.

“Mum?”

“What?”

“Can I have my basketball?”

She handed him the ball. Moonbeam started to toss it on board, but then set it down and reached out to her. She hugged him tightly, clinging to him. “Be careful, Moonbeam.”

“I will. You, too.”

She stepped back. “I'll be okay.” She looked away, trying to hold herself together. “Mind your manners.”

“The Queen might be coming, right?”

“She might.”

Moonbeam picked up the ball, got the line from Jim, and climbed aboard. “See you soon, Mum,” he shouted as the boat backed away from the dock. He stood on the stern and watched the small figure of his mother walk slowly up the hill to their truck and felt his own tears.
Why did she have to be so miserable? It wasn't like he was going to another planet. He'd see her every week. She went away herself to live at that boarding school when she was his age. Why'd she have to make this so hard?