The Wolf and Me: The Seven Sequels

by Richard Scrimger

  So you wuld of shot me? I ask.

  I was going to try to scare you she says. But if you wouldnt be scared then yeah Id of pulled the trigger.

  What if you missd?

  You dont miss with a shot gun she says.

  Katy has the radio on. The announcer guy has a gaspy voice and he says O boy a lot.

  Less than 24 hours from now the ball will drop and the new year will begin he says. Then he starts talking about Aiden Tween who is in Toronto. O boy what a hart throb he says. Katy turns off the radio.

  Cant stand that guy she says.

  Aiden Tween?

  Well yeah him 2. But I was talking about that radio host. He sounds like he has found a cure for cancer when hes giving a traffic report.

  You know Aiden Tween rite? The singer? You baby you baby you baby are the 1 for me—that guy. Hes famous. The hair the pointing finger the screaming fans. Hes my age witch means we shuld have a lot in common—only we dont.

  Katy pulls into the parking lot of the police station. It is near the 401 hi way and is the only big bilding I have seen in Canada so far. She shuts off the engine and we walk in together.

  Your wearing skates? she says.

  Yeah.

  Rented eh? I see the number.

  She opens the door for me and the baby. I click and clump across the floor of the station.

  The sarjent behind the desk is yelling into 2 phones at once. She has 1 in her hand and 1 lying open in front of her.

  There is a table and chairs near the front door—a waiting area. The magazine on the table has a picture of a guy with his hand in his shirt on the cover. Napoleon it says. He was a long time ago but the magazine looks old enuff to have gossip about him like he was Aiden Tween. Crazy Napoleon—whats he up to now?

  I sit down and keep the baby in my lap. She pulls off her hat and drops it rite away.

  I dont care Stevens! says the sarjent into her hand phone. Command center is breathing down my neck. Its been 5 hours now. Make up another search team and go to the customs shed.

  Katy walks over to the desk and goes ahem. The sarjent puts up her free hand like a stop sine to say Wait a minit.

  And bring search lites! she says. You can run them off the car batteries. Come on Stevens. Do it now!

  The minit the sarjent gets off this phone the 1 on the desk rings. She leans over and says Yes sir and No sir a lot and then goodbye sir.

  There is a moment of silence.

  Hello says Katy who is still standing beside the desk. The sarjents hand phone rings.

  Itll be a second she says to Katy and then says Yes into the phone.

  Katy goes outside for a smoke. Its been a couple minits since her last.

  The baby likes dropping her hat. And pulling my nose. These are her things to do. I poke her in the stomach and she giggles. I giggle back.

  Not that I like her—I dont. Just a baby. Geez.

  The sarjent is yelling into the phone again. Dont talk to me about how cold it is! she shouts. Its winter out there. Why do you think were all worried about little Adeline?

  The baby stands up strait. Looks past my sholder.

  And speaks for the first time.

  Ad she says.

  I dont know what she means. The word sounds like dad. Does she think Im her dad?

  I give her that hat. She drops it.

  Ad she says again.

  The sarjent closes the phone she is talking into. Sorry she says to Katy who is back from her smoke now. This is a very busy nite. Theres a lost kid. Shes been missing for hours and there are search teams from Canada and the US looking for her.

  Thats terrible! says Katy. She must be scared to death.

  Her parents were picked up by American customs trying to walk across the river.

  Really. Crossing the river eh? says Katy. She looks back at me.

  The parents are on there way here says the sarjent. We are the nearest police station. Everyone’s panicking of course—Adeline is still missing. There are police and CBSA teams looking for her on this side of the river and home land security has people on the other side.

  One of the sarjents phones rings. She says yes and then okay.

  The baby is looking all over the place. Sharp eyes she has.

  Ad she says. Ad ad ad.

  Or is it dad dad dad?

  Im not your dad I tell her.

  Im not worryed about her like I was when she was cold. But theres something. It has to do with us being in the police station and her calling me dad. In a few minits I will hand her over and the police will take care of her. She wont be my baby any more.

  Katy is talking to the sarjent about the missing kid. She must be safe now Katy says. Its so cold. Shes probly in a coffee shop.

  You dont understand says the sarjent. Adeline is a baby.

  What? says Katy. I thot you were talking about a teenager.

  Not even a year old says the sarjent. The parents were carrying 2 bags—1 with close and an other with the baby in it. When the chase started they hid 1 bag to move faster. They thot it was the bag of close but it turned out to be Adeline.

  Ad says the baby on my lap.

  And then the door opens and a rush of cold air comes into the police station. I hear shouting and crying and muttering. 3 people rush down the hall past me and up to the desk. The woman is shouting and the man is crying and the customs officer is muttering.

  Find her! shouts the woman. Find her!

  She is wearing a green parka and has dark hair and big eyes. She looks like a bomb has gone off inside her.

  The man has his hands in front of his face. Hes crying. The customs officer holds the neck of his coat practicly carrying him along—witch she can do easily. Thats how big she is.

  Im watching you she mutters.

  Shut up! says the woman. Your people havent found her.

  Were looking says the officer. Now that your back in Canada where you belong your baby is our number 1 priority. We all want the same thing she says.

  This happens in a few seconds while they are walking in front of us. The baby tries to jump out of my lap and I have to hold on tite. Her mouth opens.

  Mama! Mama!

  The woman is at my side so fast I do not see her move. It is like magic—she is yelling at the customs officer and then she is holding the baby. I culd not stop her if I wanted to. She wants the baby more than I have ever wanted anything.

  Adeline she says. Adeline. Adeline.

  She is crying but not boo hoo. Tears pour down her cheeks like rain. Like a waterfall. I have never seen crying like that befor.

  Mama! says the baby. Mama!

  The 2 of them are holding each other so tite I can not tell where mom stops and baby starts. It is like they are 1 person—like mom is pregnant again.

  There is a thump. The man has fallen to the floor.

  The customs officer is not enjoying the family reunion. Shes staring at me.

  You! she says.

  She is Brady or Alex—I dont know witch. The bigger tuffer 1.

  Your in trouble she says. Theres a red file on you.

  You belong in America.

  No I say. I want to stay here.

  She lifts Adelines dad up by his coat and drops him in the corner.

  These folks will have to stay she says. But we will see about you.

  Then she goes over to talk to the sarjent. I dont know why she has it so upside down. Why cant she take Adelines family back with her and leave me here? Then we wuld all be happy.

  Katy comes over to sit beside me. Shes got a big smile on her face. She nods at Adeline and her mom who are still hugging each other. They havent moved.

  See what you did? she says.

  HOURS LATER IT IS SO LATE IT IS EARLY.

  Katys on a new pack of smokes. Ive told my story to Brady or Alex and 2 customs officers from Canada and Ive answered questions—lots of them. Im real tired.

  Adelines gone. Her and her family mite stay in Canada and mite have to go someplace far
away—to make it harder to sneek into America next time. Sounds pretty stupid to me but maybe I have it wrong. I got to hold Adeline 1 more time to say goodbye. Not that I care. Shes just a baby. Her mom has finally stopped crying.

  Brady or Alex is gone 2 and I did not go with her no matter how much she talked about hot per suit.

  Let me tell you about hot per suit. That is a big deal. Brady or Alex said she culd take me back across the border because she grabbed me in America and I ran away so when she saw me here it was hot per suit and hot per suit gave her special powers. The Canadian customs officers said hot per suit was no good in my case. Yes it is said Brady or Alex. No it isnt said the Canadian customs guys. Yes it is. No it isnt. What about home land security? said Brady or Alex. That doesnt matter said the Canadian guys. Yes it does. No it doesnt.

  I may be wrong about some of this but trust me—hot per suit is important. They must of said it 1000 times. The police sarjent was with them on this. She nodded her head every time.

  Katy solved the problem by saying she drove me here because I wanted to come and that wasnt hot per suit or cold per suit or any other kind of per suit and anyway I saved the babys life so go home you bully. Thats what she called Brady or Alex. A bully.

  Brady or Alex put on her coat and hat and stomped over to where I was sitting. She leaned down—close enuff for me to smell her gum. Peppermint.

  I still dont trust you she told me. You could be a terrorist.

  A terrorist? said the young Canadian customs officer—the 1 who looks like Superman. Thats ridiculous! he said.

  Katy laffed. Brady or Alex left the station. Her uniform boots made for good stomping. I never did find out her name.

  That was a bit ago. Now its so late its early. Im not going back to America tonite but I am still in trouble. The older Canadian customs officer wants me to show Im a citizen even tho I dont have a pass port.

  In case the Americans come back with proofs of there own he says. I have some questions for you—Canadian questions. Theyll only take a minit. You can answer them eh?

  Hes got white hair and a great voice. If the other officer is Superman this 1 is like that guy who plays God in the movies.

  Uhh I say.

  Lets begin with an easy 1. Do you know whos the prime minister? he asks me.

  No. Oh no wait. That guy I say. With the glasses and the funny hair. I saw him shaking hands with Aiden Tween on TV.

  Katys back from a smoke. She hears this and laffs. She thinks Im pretty funny.

  Sorry I say to the old officer.

  Well do you know any capitals? he asks me.

  Washington DC I say rite away. And Beijing.

  I can even spell it. I did a project on Beijing for school because Mr Wing is from there. The old guy frowns at me.

  No he says.

  What—they changed it? I say.

  I mean our capitals he says.

  Hes shorter than the Superman guy but hes the boss. His uniform has things on the sholders to show hes important.

  Oh yeah. Sorry I say. I remember now. Ottawa is our capital. Mom goes there sometimes. Its in Ontario I say.

  Any more?

  We have more capitals?

  He looks out the window.

  I know eh? I say. Sorry Im so stupid.

  Im afraid hes going to send me to America for not knowing stuff so I try to come up with Canadian things. I think hard.

  I know Terry Fox I say. And Wayne Gretzky. And that singer—whats her name. The one who sings about the river she can skate away on. Theyre Canadian rite? And Aiden Tween but I gess every bodys herd of him. And that singer from Montreal. And the basketball player that Benj likes. And those guys who discovered gravity—no not gravity but something important. Insulation. Something like that. Some doctor thing. There Canadian. I know they are I say.

  The customs boss shakes his head and lets out a long haaaaa. Not a laff. He looks more like that God actor than ever.

  You shuld go home now sir says the younger officer. I can take care of Bunny here.

  I feel horrible. I failed the test.

  I am Canadian I call after him. Sorry but I really am.

  I turn to the younger guy with the muscles and chin and the lick of hair curling over his fore head.

  Dont drive me back to America I beg him.

  Katy puts her hand on my arm.

  Its okay Bunny she says. He believes your Canadian. His boss beleeves you. Everybody beleeves you.

  But I got the questions wrong I say.

  Yeah she says. Yeah you did. But its the way you did.

  She heads for home. On her way out the door she yawns and shoots me with her finger. Shes pretty cool.

  The Superman customs officer is going to look after me.

  HIS NAME IS BROZ.

  He says I can call him Joe. He sits beside me and gets out a tape recorder. He puts in a what do you call it—a cart ridge—and presses a button to turn it on.

  This is customs officer Joseph Broz at 6 AM on Dec 31st he says.

  He points the recorder at me and tells me to introduce myself and xplain what is going on and how I came here.

  You want to know everything? I say.

  Yes.

  But—everything?

  And speak slowly.

  So I do.

  My name is Bunny I say into the recorder. I am 15 and a bit—almost 16. I live at Creekside Juvenile Detention Centre. I dont know the address but it is near the train tracks in Hope Springs. That is in Ontario in Canada. I am out on a pass. My PO gave it to me. Her name is Roz. I came home for Christmas and then we drove up to my grampas cottage. I was with my brother and my cousins. My brothers name is Spencer.

  I take a breath and try to think about what happened and when.

  It is way easier to tell a story than it is to write it down. Last time I had to write down a story it took all day. This story only takes a little while. The police station gets noisy as cops come in and the day starts. It is still dark outside. I keep talking.

  Joe is interested. He wants to know about the kid nappers. What are there names? Where are they from? What do they want? I tell him Vi and Lubor and Peter and Bojan. And the anthem. And Dusan I say but I never saw him.

  Joe stops the tape.

  Did your grandfather spend time in—some place? he asks. I do not recognize the name. The way he says it there is a lot of spitting in it.

  I dont know I say. Is that a country?

  It is now says Joe. But it wasnt when your grampa was spying. Thats what he was rite? A spy?

  I gess so I say. There were pass ports and money in his wall. Those are spy things and he was hiding them. And we found a gun. My cousins think he was a spy and there pretty smart. Spencers smart for sure.

  And he got the anthem says Joe. Rite? Isnt that what the SPCA kid nappers want?

  I dont even know there name. SPCA—what is that? You know more than me I say.

  Joes face changes. Oh he says. I thot you said the name.

  No. I never herd of the SPCA.

  I gess I got it wrong says Joe.

  He starts the tape again. You keep talking he tells me. Finish your story while I make some phone calls.

  A gust of warm air blows up from the floor. Im so tired. I culd sleep until spring. I close my eyes and feel my body melting like butter on the stove.

  I do not dream.

  Floating away from a street full of zombies in my new iron hat to play moon tag with my friend Akie from grade 2 until my mom calls to ask what I want on my cheese burger—thats a dream. Crazy you know? I had that exact dream last month.

  So what I have now is not a dream. Its like I am sleeping and awake at the same time. I know I am in a police station in skates that pinch a bit and close that smell pretty bad. I have my head down and my eyes closed. And I hear Grampas voice. Careful Bernard he says.

  It takes me back to the time we were walking near the cottage and I went after a snake that didnt run away. Well not run—it was a snake so it cu
ldnt run. But it didnt slide away. What it did was it looped around on itself and waited. This was years ago when I was like 8 or 10. It was just me and Grampa. He pulled me away from the snake and said Careful Bernard. Then he showed me the rattles on the snakes tail and told me what they meant and we walked on.

  Careful Bernard. Thats what I hear now. I wake up from my not dream with Grampas voice in my ears.

  GOOD NEWS.

  Joe is taking the day off work so he can drive me to Creekside.

  Its not far to Creekside he says. If we leave now youll be there this afternoon.

  I make sure and thank him. He says no problem. Standing up we are the same size witch means he is a skate taller than me.

  Joe drives a police car xept it does not have flashing lites or a siren and it is green. Joe is like a cop under cover—but not very far under cover. I sit in the big front seat. The sun shines in my face. There is a sheepskin rug on the drivers seat but not on mine so Joe can be warm and comfy but not me. Oh well. On the dash in front of me is a sticker of a flag I do not know.

  Joe skids a bit coming out of the parking lot. It is still icy.

  The clock says 7:34. Spencer will be awake. I ask Joe if I can use his cell phone to call my brother. He says no.

  My phone battery is dead he says. Sorry Bunny.

  We slip and slide getting onto the 401 but the hi way is clear and we go fast. Trees and fields flash past us and the tires hum and every time I look up there is another turnoff. I am thinking about how nice it will be to eat and sleep and not worry when I get back to Creekside. Especially not worry.

  Worrying is hard on you. Its a voice thats always there. Worry worry worry worry worry worry worry worry. You dont notice it and dont notice it and dont notice it and then you do—and you realize its been there all along. Ive been worrying ever since they grabbed me from the city hall rink. Finally I dont have to worry. Im in an almost police car on my way home. I try to shake off the voice. Worry worry worry worry.

  There are snowy fields on both sides of the hi way with trees behind them. White and dark with the blu sky on top. I take a deep breath.