Hannah and the Wild Woods Page 18

  “She’s going to drown, Hannah!” Kimiko says, extending an arm to the flailing wolf. “Help!” When I see the terror on her face, I understand. Water. Drowning. All over again! That fateful day in Honshu, Japan—the day that Kimiko survived, but so many others did not.

  Jack lands on the side of the boat, squawking and croaking non-stop to Sitka. I grab hold of the other oar, ensure it’s locked in tight, then extend its tip over the side of the boat until the edge of it is level on the water in front of Sitka.

  Please! Come on! Come on! Come on!

  Sitka’s eyes lock with mine and for a brief moment she stops struggling altogether. Just when I’m sure she’s going to go under for the last time, she gathers her strength and snaps her jaws onto the side of the oar.

  She has to hang on. She just has to!

  Her front legs break through the water and begin paddling again, and I don’t waste any time. I twist the throttle and ease the boat forward slowly, while Kimiko keeps a tight hold on the oar.

  I scan the shoreline of Meares, but I don’t see any signs of Sitka’s pack. If they would only appear! It would help her to hang on!

  We putter slowly toward the gravelly beach, and when we are only twenty feet from the shore, I cut the motor and Sitka’s strong jaw finally release the oar. With a sudden burst of energy, her back rises up out of the water and she swims the remaining few metres to the shore.

  Kimiko and I hold our breath as Sitka steps out of the water and shakes her coat violently on the shore.

  There is no sign of life on the beach, but the little half-grown wolf seems to know where to go. She limps up to the trees, but turns and watches us for a few moments before slinking into the shadows of the big trees.

  “Remember what you said to me a while ago?” Kimiko says after Sitka has vanished. She doesn’t wait for me to answer her. “You said, ‘No matter how strong you are, everyone needs a little help now and then.’”

  Before I can respond, Jack flaps his white wings and follows Sitka into the early morning shadows of Meares Island.

  Chapter Thirty-One

  As expected, kimiko and I are not in anyone’s good books when we get back. In fact, Ruth, Peter, Jade and Sabrina are all waiting on the beach when we come around the point in the skiff. We can see their breath hanging in cold, early morning air.

  “Uh oh,” I say under my breath, my teeth chattering. “We’re in for it now.”

  While we drag the boat up to the dune grass at the top of the beach, I tell Ruth I wanted to take Kimiko for a little dawn boat ride before we went on our separate ways. After all, who knows when we’ll see each other again? But Ruth is clearly disappointed, which makes me feel pretty awful.

  “You could have had an accident out there!” she scolds.

  “But I’ve been driving boats since I was six,” I say. “And you did say I could use it while I was here, right?”

  “Common sense, girl,” Ruth says. “Always let someone know where you’re going when you’re out on the water. Surely you know that rule.”

  “You’re right, Ruth,” I say. “I’m sorry.”

  “Guess he’s in the doghouse, too,” Peter says, pointing. We all look up to see Jack gliding high over the water on silent wings toward the shore. He perches on the top of a fir tree and nods his head at me in a way that only I understand. I’m so glad to see him back so soon, and right away I feel as though a huge weight has fallen from my shoulders, because, I know Jack; there’s no way he would leave Meares Island unless Sitka was absolutely safe. Of that I’m sure.

  Despite the chill in the air, and the cold reception we received from the others, thinking about Sitka’s reunion with her family makes me feel warm inside.

  She’s back where she belongs.

  By the time mid morning arrives, we’ve been forgiven. Sabrina, Kimiko and I share out some trail mix, while we watch Jack dive-bomb the beach along with two other ravens.

  “He sort of makes the others look bad,” Sabrina says. “He’s like, the good-looking one in the crowd. I sure know what that feels like.”

  I roll my eyes. Some things never change, I guess. “He’s not so much good-looking,” I say, “as different.”

  “Well, whatever. He’s got style,” Sabrina says. “But I bet those resident ravens will be glad to see us leave.”

  “I wish you didn’t have to,” Kimiko says quietly. “Leave, I mean.”

  “But at least we’re all together today,” I say.

  “What’s so special about today?” Sabrina says. “Other than it was pretty awesome to see you get busted by Ruth.”

  I ignore the comment. “It’s Kimiko’s birthday.”

  “It’s true,” Kimiko says proudly. “I’m eighteen today.”

  “Eighteen,” Sabrina says wistfully. “I’m so jealous. If I were eighteen I could just move out and never have to see …” Her voice trails off.

  “See what?” Kimiko asks.

  “Never mind,” Sabrina says. “I just wish I was eighteen, that’s all. I’d be officially an adult, and no one could tell me what to do. I’d take off. I’d be free as a bird.”

  That’s probably true. The Webbers are pretty loaded. Sabrina is probably financially set for life.

  But Kimiko looks worried. “But why would you want to take off? What about your family?”

  “They may be my family,” Sabrina says, “but they don’t know me at all. They don’t even try.”

  “That is difficult to understand,” Kimiko says. “I am so sorry.”

  “Why?” Sabrina says. “It’s not your fault.”

  “I know,” Kimiko says. “But I’m sad you’re unhappy, that’s all.”

  I smile. Kimiko doesn’t know it yet, but she’s actually pretty good at this “being human” stuff.

  “Well, what are you going to do?” Sabrina asks her. “Now that you’re eighteen, I mean?”

  “I don’t really know.”

  “Well, take my advice. Don’t stay here too long,” Sabrina says dramatically. “This place is where fun goes to die.”

  “What are you going to do,” I ask Kimiko later on after dinner. “I mean, you can’t really stay here forever, right?”

  We’re lying on a pile of pillows in the Big Kahuna, a bowl of buttered popcorn in front of us, compliments of Ruth, who appears to have forgiven our selfish move of this morning.

  Kimiko is beaming, smiling as though she has some kind of news that she’s just dying to share.

  “I’ve been giving it a lot of thought,” she says. “And doing a lot of research. Ruth helped me at lunchtime, and Jade, too. On the computer.”

  “Research?” I ask. “What kind of research?” I stuff too much popcorn into my mouth and wipe away some butter from my chin. Why is it impossible to eat popcorn in a dainty fashion? I’ve tried. It can’t be done.

  “Well,” Kimiko says, sitting up and wiping her buttery hands on a piece of paper towel she tears off from a roll beside us. “I’ve been thinking a lot about the things you have told me, about your friends back in Cowichan Bay. All the stuff you tell me about your home.”

  There’s that word again. I bite my tongue because, right now, I’m supposed to be the listener.

  “Anyway,” Kimiko says, “I’m starting a brand new life. Everything will be different now, and I can create my own family for myself. What was that expression you told me the other day?”

  “Which one?”

  “Something about homes and hearts?”

  “Oh. Right. Home is where the heart is.” It sounds so cheesy when I say it, and a part of me feels guilty because, truth be told, I’m still not sure if I one hundred percent believe it myself.

  “Yes! That’s the one.”

  Her amber eyes light up, and her face glows almost the way it did when she first arrived here. But now it isn’t the hoshi no tama that gives her so much energy; it’s genuine excitement for her future.

  “So,” she says, clutching her hands together in her lap. “I’ve decid
ed to go back.”

  “Back?”

  “To Japan.”

  “You are? Really?”

  “Yes, back to Honshu. There are so many kids there. Kids like me, only much younger. Kids who are alone now, who no longer have families.”

  The orphanages. I’ve read about them, about how so many children lost their parents in the tsunami and are still without real homes, even years later.

  “Jade has done a lot of aid work. She knows of all sorts of organizations who help children like this. She helped me send some emails earlier today.”

  “So, you want to work with the kids?” I ask.

  Kimiko digs into her pocket and pulls out a piece of paper. She unfolds it and hands it to me.

  It’s a photograph of a large brick building surrounded by tall trees, a hill rising up behind it. There are some Japanese characters written underneath the picture, but of course, none of that means anything to me.

  “What is this place?” I ask.

  “It was once a school, but now it’s become home to a lot of lost children. Most are very young, under six.” There is a certain softness in Kimiko’s eyes as she stares at the photo in my hands. “I want to go there,” she says quietly. “To this very place. I want to help.”

  “Really? That’s so cool, Kimiko!” I say.

  “We have already received an email from them, too. They seem very interested. And because I can speak English so well, they say I could really be of some help to them.” She looks over her shoulder to ensure we won’t be overheard, and then leans in to whisper. “The Okami was watching over me. I think she was waiting until my transformation was complete. And when it was, she revealed her message.”

  “Which was?”

  “It’s all so clear now. She was telling me, that despite everything, I could go back home, with a little help from my true friends, of course.” Her face shines.

  “Kimiko,” I say, a catch in my voice. “I think you’re right! And helping out in Honshu is such a great idea.”

  “I am to wait for an email from a Mr. Nakagawa,” Kimiko says excitedly. “They said he would contact me tomorrow, first thing. But Hannah! It sounds as though I will be able to go right away! I mean, if Mr. Nakagawa says it’s okay.”

  “It sure does sound promising,” Ruth says, coming in from the kitchen, her hands thrust in her sweater pockets. “If your parents were alive, Kimiko, I’m sure they would be so very proud of you.”

  Kimiko looks at me and ever so slightly raises an eyebrow. She’s obviously told Ruth a different version of her complicated past.

  Sabrina comes through the door, rushes past Ruth and begins switching off all the lights in the room.

  “Hey!” I say. “What are you doing?”

  “You’ll see,” she says, then shouts over her shoulder, “Are you ready, Jade?”

  Jade calls out from the kitchen. “Ready!”

  The lights go off, and I hear someone strike a match. Seconds later Jade marches into the Big Kahuna with a cake on a tray that’s ablaze with candles, eighteen candles, to be exact. “OH!” Kimiko says, jumping to her feet.

  “A birthday simply cannot go by without cake,” Ruth announces matter-of-factly. “It’s kind of a rule. At least it is around here.”

  Kimiko’s jaw drops open, and she looks at me with questioning eyes. But I raise both hands up in front of me and take a few steps back. “Well, don’t look at me,” I say. “I never said a word.” Which is entirely true, because I wasn’t sure if Kimiko wanted the whole world to know about this, her first authentic human birthday!

  We both look at Sabrina, who does her best to look like none of this is a big deal. “Whatever.” She shrugs. “Guilty as charged.” But she’s wrong. It is a big deal! Kimiko rushes at Sabrina, enveloping her in a giant bear hug until Sabrina begs to be released. Ruth is next, then Peter, Jade and finally me. I have to be honest—I’m surprised, and also pretty impressed that Sabrina is the force behind this celebration. Maybe there’s hope for her after all. Maybe this is a “year of change” for all of us.

  A little while later, Kimiko and I are flaked out on the cushions in the Big Kahuna, stuffed to the max with cake.

  “Well,” Kimiko says, licking icing off her fingers, “there’s one thing I know for sure.”

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “I think I’m a big fan of this birthday stuff.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Leaving the artful elephant feels weird. I feel as though I’ve been at the lodge for so much longer than just ten days. Leaving everyone is way harder than I thought it would be, but knowing that Kimiko has a plan of action is comforting.

  We’re all chatting on the front steps when she pulls me aside. “Hannah, come here,” she whispers, hauling me around to the side of the lodge.

  “What?”

  “I have something for you,” she says. She pulls a small gift from a bag, one wrapped in soft green paper and tied with a piece of lace. On the top, is a beautifully folded origami raven made with bright white parchment paper.

  “This is so pretty!” I say. “I don’t want to open it!”

  “Then don’t,” she says. “Open it when you get back home.”

  I lift the paper bird off the package, and inspect it from all angles. It’s so delicate, so perfect, its folds so crisp and exact. I lean over to hug Kimiko, carefully holding the paper raven up out of harm’s way.

  “Okay, everyone,” Peter says, slamming shut the tailgate of the Chevy. “Time to go. Mike will be waiting down at the harbour.”

  Kimiko and I try to be stoic, but we both get a little misty. This seems to upset Norman a little, and he tries to worm his way in between us.

  We both walk over to the birdbath, where Jack sits perched in all his glory. He has a long flight ahead of him, and eagerly eats the piece of toast with peanut butter I saved for him; energy food, even for birds.

  “Don’t dawdle,” I tell him sternly. “Fly straight home.”

  Jack flaps his wings and hops onto my shoulder. He tugs my hair, and then in a flash of white, is up in the air and headed south.

  Everyone applauds, and Norman barks like a lunatic while he runs in excited circles around the birdbath.

  I squeeze into the back seat next to Sabrina. Ruth leans in through the window and pats my arm. “You girls take care of yourselves,” she says, “and you make sure you both come back for a visit real soon, you hear?”

  “We will,” Sabrina and I say at the same time, and for some reason, even though Sabrina claims to have had a horrible time here, I think she just might.

  Peter checks his phone and mutters something about girlfriends who are always late, just as Jade trots down the front steps, her own backpack slung over her shoulder. “Sorry, sorry,” she says. “Warren called to say the water taxi is down for a few days. And then he started to talk. You know Warren. He likes to talk!”

  “That’s an understatement!” Ruth laughs.

  “He wouldn’t stop talking about the wolves!”

  “Wolves?” I am so enthusiastic that I bump my head on the truck’s ceiling. “Ouch!”

  “Yeah. He saw them from the water taxi yesterday, about six or seven of them, a couple of younger ones, too, one of which had a bit of a lame back leg.”

  “Or it could be just a Warren story,” Ruth says, grinning. “That guy is notorious for telling tales.”

  “Hmmmm, I don’t think so,” Jade says thoughtfully. “He said he watched them all playing on the beach, and then they all took to the water and swam toward Miller Channel, up toward Flores Island.”

  “Won’t they get tired?” I pipe from the back seat, thinking about Sitka’s leg.

  “Nah,” Peter says. “Wolves can island-hop all the way up the coast. There are so many little ones out there.”

  “I wonder why they didn’t stay on Meares,” I say.

  “Small pack, and they’re probably looking for new territory,” Peter says. “It’s getting pretty busy around these
parts. My bet is they’re going to end up at the north end of the island. Just a guess.”

  Kimiko and I share a secret smile. I’m surprised by the sudden rush of emotion I feel, one that makes me wipe a quickly forming tear from the corner of my eye before anyone can spot it. Everybody seems to be finding their own place, and it feels good.

  When Peter pulls into the parking lot in the harbour, we see Mike on the dock, vigorously rubbing down the windows of his plane with an old brown towel.

  “Well, I guess this is goodbye,” Peter says, turning around in the seat. “Gonna miss you girls.”

  “It’s not really goodbye,” Jade says, smiling. “Peter and I are headed to Vancouver in a couple of weeks, and we’d like to stop in at Cowichan Bay on our way back for a quick visit.”

  “Seriously? That would be awesome!” I find a crumpled lunch bag on the floor of the truck, tear off a bit and write down my cell number on it.

  Peter takes the paper, and then hands it to Sabrina. “Well?”

  “You want mine, too?” She flushes, her eyes wide with disbelief.

  “Well, of course,” Peter says. “I know you have a phone.” Sabrina writes down her number underneath mine, and beams when Peter folds the paper in half and puts it in his wallet.

  “We’ll expect the full tour when we see you,” Jade says.

  “The Salty Dog for fish and chips?”

  I nod by head. “Absolutely. It can be our first stop.”

  As we lug our stuff across the parking lot, Peter calls out from the truck. “Hey, Hannah!”

  I stop. “Yeah?”

  “Look after yáahl.”

  “Pardon me?”

  “Yáahl. That’s Haida for raven. Look after Jack.”

  “Oh!” I shout back. “I will!”

  It’s a given.

  Why does the journey home always seem so much faster that the trip out? It only feels like a few short minutes before we are flying over Cowichan Bay. As Mike lands the Beaver, I study the smattering of boats anchored a little way out on the water. I know each and every one of them: Faralito, with her bright yellow cabin; Persephone, the wooden sloop with the sky blue headsail; and Zeelandia, an old renovated fishing boat that’s home to Hans and Selinde, an eccentric Dutch couple.