Trapped (8 page)

We bring the fawn into the operating room, where Dr. Mac has everything all ready, just as she did when we brought Chico in. Only this time, the lights are dimmer and Dr. Mac is moving even more slowly and carefully than usual.

“A fawn can literally die of fright,” she tells us. “So let's be very, very gentle as we transfer her onto the table.”

Once the fawn is settled, Dr. Mac asks us all to stand back. “We don't want to overwhelm her,” she explains.

She takes a pulse and checks respirations, calls out the numbers, and then gets to work setting up an I.V. “I'm going to give her a very mild sedative,” Dr. Mac tells us, “just enough to calm her down so I can examine her.” The fawn, which had been struggling, lies still after Dr. Mac gives her the medication.

“Now I can X-ray her legs,” Dr. Mac says. She has a portable X-ray machine, about the size of a toaster oven, that's good for situations like this.

“She got caught in a barbed-wire fence,” Billy explains.

Dr. Mac nods, tying on a lead apron to protect herself from radiation when she takes the X-ray. “When they get tangled like that, their legs can break. And this fawn is too old for a broken leg to heal. If her leg is broken, not even the Lakes can fix her up enough to go back in the wild.”

I look at Billy. He said the exact same thing in his yard! He really does know what he's talking about.

Dr. Mac finishes taking X-rays and goes to develop the film.

“Good news,” she reports when she returns a few minutes later. “No fracture.”

I sigh with relief, and so does everyone else in the room. “So, you can save her?” I ask.

Dr. Mac pauses. “I hope so,” she replies. Then she gives me a stern look. “Brenna, you and Sage should both know better—moving this deer was very dangerous.”

Sage, Billy, and I exchange glances. “But she was suffering!” I say.

“It doesn't matter,” Dr. Mac replies, shaking her head. “You could have been seriously injured or caused additional harm to the deer. You put yourselves—and the fawn—at risk.”

I know she's right. I hang my head apologetically. Still, it's hard for me to feel bad now that the fawn is getting help.

“But ... she'll be all right?” Billy asks Dr. Mac.

“I'll do my best,” she says. She turns her head in my direction. “I'd like to get her to a point where your parents could care for her, Brenna. The question is how long she's been injured. If it's been a while, her whole system could be compromised from shock. If not, we may be able to clean her wounds, give her some antibiotics, and send her over to your place.”

“She wasn't there this morning,” Billy reports. “So it can't be more than a few hours.”

“That's good to know.” Dr. Mac is working on the fawn as she talks, cleaning the nasty wounds made by the barbed wire. She looks more closely at one of the cuts. “This one may need stitches,” she murmurs. “Brenna, can you get me a suture kit?”

As I rustle around in the cupboard, I hear Billy and Dr. Mac talking. He tells her how he learned everything about wildlife from his dad.

“It sounds as if you and your father spend a lot of time in the woods,” Dr. Mac says.

“Well, my dad's dead,” Billy tells her. “But yeah, I love the woods. When I'm there, I kind of feel like my dad is still around.” He's silent for a second. “That sounds dumb, doesn't it?”

“Not at all,” Dr. Mac answers.

I find a suture kit and bring it over, walking past Sage, who still hasn't said a word. He's standing in a corner of the room, arms folded, just watching. His mouth is in that thin, hard line, and he's glaring at Billy.

Of course, Dr. Mac is treating Billy just like any regular person who's interested in animals. Why shouldn't she? She has no idea he's the trapper who hurt Chico. I feel like I should let her know who Billy is. But how?

Finally, I blurt it out. “Maggie and I met Billy in the woods the other day,” I tell her. “He was checking his traps.”

Dr. Mac looks up at me, her right eyebrow raised. I give her the tiniest nod. She's got the picture. She's a little shocked, I can tell. Then she looks at Billy. But she doesn't say anything for a moment. Instead, she goes back to working on the fawn.

Nobody says anything for a while. “There,” she says finally, throwing one last gauze pad into the trash. “I think she's stable now, and most of her wounds are clean. All we can do now is let her rest and heal.” Dr. Mac shoots me a glance. “Brenna, why don't you take Billy to meet Chico? Sage can stay with me in case we need to move the fawn.”

Wow. What a great idea! Maybe it will teach Billy a lesson if he sees what his trapping has done. Dr. Mac is brilliant. I nod. “Sure,” is all I say.

I lead Billy out of the operating room and down the hall to the room where the boarding cages are. Sunita and Zoe are there, feeding the cats and dogs who are staying with us. “So, how's Chico doing today?” I ask.

“Much better,” Zoe says. “But he's still really weak. Dr. Mac is feeding him by I.V. because he won't eat. He's still too scared to trust us.”

When Billy and I are standing in front of Chico's cage, I drop the bomb. “This is the dog we found in your trap,” I tell him, watching his face for a reaction.

His jaw drops. “Oh, no!” he breathes when he sees Chico's missing leg. He takes a step closer.

I'm secretly hoping that Chico will growl at Billy, maybe even try to bite him. It would serve him right.

But Chico doesn't growl.

Billy seems to know just what to do. Instead of meeting Chico's eyes, Billy looks away from the dog and talks softly in a low, soothing voice. “Poor boy,” he says. “I'm so sorry.”

Billy raises a hand super slowly and slips a couple fingers through the bars of Chico's cage. Chico lets him.

Sunita notices. Quickly, she crosses the room, grabs a dog biscuit out of a jar, and walks quietly up to Billy. “Try giving him this,” she whispers.

Billy offers the biscuit to Chico.

There's a long pause. We hold our breath.

Then Chico sniffs the biscuit. But he still doesn't take it.

Billy continues holding the biscuit patiently. I don't know how he keeps his hands so steady. Mine are shaking like leaves.

Finally, Chico snatches the biscuit and chews hungrily.

I can't believe my eyes. Nobody has gotten this close to Chico without a major warning, much less gotten him to eat right out of their hand. Not even Dr. Mac!

After he's finished the biscuit, Chico lets Billy scratch his head.

I'm amazed.

And more than a little jealous.

Chapter Ten

B
illy and I head outside to sit on the porch steps.

Sage is still inside with Dr. Mac, so now's my chance to talk to Billy alone. I'm still hoping to change his mind about trapping.

“Do you think he's going to be OK?” Billy asks.

“The fawn, or Chico?” I ask.

“Chico.” Billy isn't meeting my eyes.

I know what this is about. Billy is feeling guilty, just like I wanted him to. And a part of me is glad. The same part that wants to yell at him.

But I'm feeling something else, too. I'm feeling sorry for Billy.

“I think he'll make it,” I say. Then I can't resist adding, “Not that his life will ever be the same, now that he only has three legs.”

Billy lets out a sigh, and his head drops onto his hands.

“Billy,” I ask, “if you care so much about animals, why do you trap them?”

For a moment, he doesn't look up. Then he clears his throat. “My dad taught me to trap,” Billy says. “We spent so much time together in the woods. We were there in every season, in all kinds of weather. Checking our traplines, hiking the trails—stuff like that. My dad taught me everything he knew about plants and animals and the outdoors. He even knew about bugs!” He gives a weird little half-laugh.

“That's cool,” I say awkwardly

“It
was
cool,” Billy says. “Everything he taught me, he learned from his dad. So it was like it all got passed down. But now he's dead. My mom's trying hard to take care of me and my sister, but it hasn't been easy for her. Money's tight. Really tight.” He swallows hard. “I don't know if you have a little brother or sister, but if you do, imagine having to see him or her go hungry.”

I get a quick flash of Jayvee's face, picturing him thin and sad. Ouch.

“My mom needs my help,” Billy goes on. “Trapping is the only way I know how to make money.” He spreads his hands. “That's it. That's why I do it. Now you know.” He gives me a look, half sad, half defiant.

I hesitate. But I have to ask. “So, does that mean you're still going to do it? Even after you saw what happened to Chico?”

He frowns. “That was bad,” he admits. “Really bad. I didn't check my trapline for a day because my sister was sick and my mother was working late. Things were so crazy at home that I just... forgot. It won't happen again. And I guess I'll have to find another place to set my trapline. I didn't really understand about the nature preserve being totally off-limits. That's a new thing. The warden explained it all, so now I get it.”

So, he is going to keep trapping. What is it going to take to make him stop? “Billy,” I say carefully. “I've been learning some stuff about trapping. Did you know that more than ten million animals are killed every year for their fur? And that lots of the animals caught in traps are like Chico, animals that the trappers don't even want?”

Billy sort of grunts. Does that mean he already knows all this stuff?

I decide to keep talking. I tell him everything that I learned about trapping and all the harm it does to animals, just like I'd planned to do when I first headed to his house.

He listens. He really does. He nods once in a while, and a couple of times he rolls his eyes as if he thinks I'm saying something ridiculous. But he doesn't interrupt. Not once.

I bet I have Chico to thank for that. Billy probably feels so guilty about Chico that he figures he owes it to me to hear me out, at least.

Finally, I finish. I can't think of another thing to say. Billy seems to be mulling it all over, staring down at his hands. We just sit there quietly for a moment.

That's when Sage comes out of the clinic. He stops in his tracks when he sees us.

“What are you still doing here?” he asks Billy angrily.

“I just—” Billy stands up quickly and tries to answer. “I—”

But Sage is too mad to let him finish. “You are a sorry excuse for a human being,” he says, shaking his head. “You ruined one animal's life, then you almost killed another for no reason.”

“I was going to put the fawn out of its misery!” Billy protests. “Stop its suffering!”

“Yeah, right,” Sage says. “I think you're just bloodthirsty. You like killing animals, don't you?” Sage is almost shouting now, and his hands are clenched into fists.

“N-no!” Billy says. “It's not like that! I'm not like that, honest!”

“He's not,” I tell Sage, trying to calm him down. “Billy and I have been talking. He explained—”

Sage whirls toward me. “You stay out of this,” he hisses. “What do you know about it?”

“She knows a lot,” Billy says, defending me. “She's been telling me all this stuff about trapping. Stuff I didn't know.”

“You didn't know,” Sage mimics in a nasty voice. “Oh, you're so innocent, aren't you?”

“No, I—”

But Sage doesn't let him finish. Suddenly, he leaps at Billy, fists flying.

“Sage!” I shout. “No!” I can't believe what I'm seeing. I grab at his shirt, but I can't get hold of him.

Billy's trying to defend himself, but Sage is out of control. He throws Billy to the ground and begins pounding him.

At first, I panic. “Stop it!” I yell. “Stop it, Sage!”

How can this maniac be my brother Sage, the one who never got in a fight before?

“Sage!” I yell at him. “What about being a pacifist? You're letting the Steven Bauers of the world win!” But he doesn't seem to hear me. He just keeps throwing punches.

Billy manages to scramble to his feet, trying to dodge the blows. But Sage doesn't let up. He swings wildly at Billy.

“Sage!” I yell again.

It's obvious that nothing I can say is going to stop my brother. So I jump between him and Billy, grabbing at Sage's arms to stop him from landing any more punches.

It works.

Sort of.

The only problem is that instead of hitting Billy, Sage hits me.

Right in the mouth.

“Ow!” I step back with my hand to my lip, which is already swelling. I can taste blood.

Sage freezes in place. “Oh, no! Brenna, are you all right?” he asks. “I'm so sorry!” He lowers his fists, looking shocked.

Billy sits down on the ground with a thump and a groan.

“Sage Lake!” Dr. Mac shouts, running down off the porch. “How
could
you?” Sunita, Maggie, Zoe, and David are right behind her. They must have heard all the yelling.

Dr. Mac puts her arm around me and leads me back to the steps. “Brenna, are you OK? Sit down here. If you feel faint, put your head between your legs.” She touches my face all over, very gently, checking for injuries. Then she gestures for Maggie to come sit next to me while she checks on Billy.

“Are you all right?” Maggie asks me quietly.

I nod. “Just a fat lip, that's all.” It sure is fat. I can barely talk.