Alkomso squints her eyes at me. “Fern—”
“What?” I say, a little too loud. “What?” I say again, softer.
Then she glances over my shoulder. “Hey,” she says. “Where did the boys go?” She looks all around.
They’re not at the bottom of the berm. They’re not on the road. They’re not with us.
A few yards down, the orange snow fence has been lifted up from the ground, creating a small gap.
“Oh no…” I race over to it. Sled marks. I get down on my belly to snake under fence and inside the work site.
Sure enough, Mikko, Abdisalom, and Alexi are fooling around with the sleds at the bottom of the pit.
“Get out of there!” I shout. Alexi waves up at me. “Come here! Right now!” I point to the ground at my feet. “Now!”
“Come and get us,” says Alexi. “Nah, nah.” He sticks his tongue out at me and then turns around and wiggles his butt. My whole mass of hair might turn gray in an instant.
“I am not kidding,” I shout. “Get up here before you get hurt.”
Just then, a bulldozer stops. The blade lowers to the ground. The man operating it steps outside his cab, takes off his hard hat, and stares at the boys. He yells something at them, but I can’t hear what. He pulls a cell phone out of his pocket and taps it, then puts it to his ear.
“You guys are going to get us in big trouble!” I holler. “Come up here.”
A siren wails. Red lights blink.
The boys startle and scramble for the berm, climbing like spiders up a wall.
Some workmen begin shouting at us. I can’t quite make out what they are saying, but I’m sure it’s not good.
The boys hike up, mud clumps thick as cement blocks clinging to their boots. When they’re nearly at the top, I kneel down and reach out my hand.
The sirens keep screeching.
Alexi grabs my hand, and I pull him up and push him toward the gap in the fence. I do the same with Abdisalom and Mikko. Once his feet are through, I take one last look at the work site and at the men storming toward us.
“Sorry!” I shout. Then I get low and slither down the other side. “Let’s go!” I grab Alexi’s arm and Mikko’s hand. Alkomso seizes Abdisalom’s. We run.
After a while, Alkomso slows and bends over with her hands on her knees. “I can’t run anymore. I have a side ache.” She breathes heavily, stands up straight, and holds her stomach. “They’re not following us anyway.”
I listen hard, but I don’t hear shouting or truck engines.
“That was so cool!” says Alexi.
Alkomso puts her face right up close to his. “You guys could have gotten hurt!”
“Those old men couldn’t catch me,” says Abdisalom. “I’m too fast.”
“That was so stupid of you!” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “What if Grandpa finds out what you did? Do you want to get taken away from your dad? Do you want to end up like Mark-Richard and Gary?”
My brothers look at me quizzically. I’ve never really explained to them about the struggles we’re having at home. And I know Toivo has worked hard to keep them protected, too.
“You’re hurting my ears,” says Abdisalom. “Quit yelling.”
“Be quiet, Abdi!” I say.
Alkomso takes his hand and glares at me. “Don’t talk to him that way.”
I swallow, not knowing what to say.
“I need to get home. I need to work on my project.” She tugs Abdisalom along down the road. Before too long, they are swinging hands and Abdisalom is skipping next to her as though all is forgiven.
I nearly call out her name two or three times, but I don’t. I’m mad at the boys. I’m mad at Grandpa. I’m mad at Toivo. And now Alkomso’s mad at me, and I’m mad at her, too.
And, if Grandpa finds out about this, which he probably will, he’s going to get even madder at Toivo, who’s going to get mad at me for letting the boys out of my sight and making him look bad, and if we’re all mad at one another, then what? What’s the use in trying to keep my family together?
My brothers punch and poke at each other. They kick dirt at each other and throw rocks in each other’s hair, as if they don’t have a care in the world, as if they didn’t just almost get us into big, fat trouble. I just about got all of us into big trouble, too.
I quicken my pace. My hands are freezing. I blow on them and then cross my arms over my chest and start walking. Marching, more like. I stare at the ground and don’t look back to see whether the boys are following me.
I wonder what would happen if I just kept walking. Not go home. Not make them dinner. Not get them to bed. Not check their backpacks. Not walk them to school. What if I hid out in the woods? What if I built myself a small lean-to? What if I lived like Brian in Hatchet? I could do it. I could do it better than Brian, probably.
Or maybe I’ll just walk all the way to end of the earth.
Chapter 13
I go on walking in a slumpy funk until I reach Horace Millner’s property.
All the dogs stand in a line at the fence, almost as if they were waiting for me to show up. They are arranged from smallest to biggest. As I walk past each of them, they wag their tails or cock their heads. At the end of the row is Ranger. The dog with the big belly reaches her tongue forward to catch a water drop off the fence. Ranger barks, and she returns to her position.
Oh, great, I think. When he wants them to tame down, even Ranger is better at keeping control of his family pack than I am.
“What’s the trick, huh, Ranger?” I stand on one side of the fence, and he sits on the other. We give each other a good once-over.
I crouch down so that we’re eye to eye. Ranger makes a gravelly sound, but it doesn’t seem angry. I reach out my hand. “Remember me?” I let Ranger sniff my hand. “I know you do. I’m the one who cut that duck off your neck.”
Ranger moves his nose against my fingers. His nose is wet and cool, like a pebble pulled out of a creek. I pet his snout and rub his nose all the way up between his eyes. He presses his forehead into my hand, so I scratch his ears.
“That feels good, doesn’t it,” I tell him. I remember how Mom would rub my head and scratch my scalp a bit with her nails and comb through my hair with her fingertips when she put me to bed. I always loved that. I remember begging her to keep doing it until I fell asleep, and sometimes she would.
Ranger shivers, which makes me giggle. Shivering must be the dog way of getting goose bumps. Ranger is grateful for the smallest kindness. I scratch him harder and rub his ears, where his fur feels velvety, and then stroke him from ear to back and back to ear.
The high-pitched grinding of a truck shifting gears alerts all the dogs. At once, the entire pack lift their heads toward the road. Ranger’s neck vibrates as he emits a low growl and then a high bark. Danger is what that means.
The boys.
A panicky chill tingles my spine.
“Mikko?” My air is short. I walk fast toward where they should be. “Alexi?”
When I see them horsing around in the middle of the road, I trot. I hear footsteps alongside me on the inside of the fence. Ranger darts in stride with me.
Then I see the truck coming up behind the boys.
“Alexi!” I run and wave my arms high above my head. They don’t hear me, and they don’t see me.
The engine revs higher.
My heart beats fast and loud and hard. I cup my hands around my mouth and yell, “Get off the road!”
But Mikko is down on all fours while Alexi sits on his back, pretending to whip him with a quirt and kick him like a bronco.
The big square shape of the truck barrels toward them.
I run faster. Ranger breaks away into a full-on run. He barks, not at me but at the boys.
The driver of the truck doesn’t slow down. Either the driver can’t see the boys, little and dirty and low in the middle of the road, or he’s not paying attention.
Ranger picks up speed, more speed
than I can keep up with.
The truck is so close to my brothers that I can make out the grille and the headlights. When my brothers look up and see me waving my arms, my throat seizes up so I can’t get out another word.
Mikko and Alexi look behind them and spot the truck, but they don’t move. They are frozen solid.
Then, far out ahead of me and past the boys, Ranger leaps over the fence. He runs across the ditch and up onto the road. He runs right at the truck.
My head pounds. My heart pounds. I stop.
The truck hisses as it slows down suddenly. The horn blows sharply.
But the squishing brakes and grinding metal and crunching gravel and blaring horn do not cover the sound of the tire hitting Ranger’s body.
They do not drown out the sound of one yelp coming from Ranger’s throat.
They do not hide the blast of air leaving Ranger’s body as he hits the ground in a heap.
Mikko grabs Alexi and dives into the ditch. Snow and gravel fly up from the truck’s tires as it swerves, dips down into the opposite ditch, and smashes into a tree. Glass breaks. Branches rattle and fall. Water sizzles on a hot engine.
I beeline for my brothers. In the ditch, they sit side by side with their arms around each other. Their faces are scratched from the rocks and snow. Alexi’s eyes are glassy with tears that haven’t fallen. His face is milky-colored and dull. I take him and pull him to my chest.
“It’s okay,” I say. “You’re okay.” My voice shakes, and my hands feel separate from me. I can see them clutching Alexi and Mikko, but I can’t feel them at all.
“I’m sorry,” Mikko says. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He gulps and then sobs loud and hard. His entire body shakes. Alexi is too stunned to cry, but the tears run down his face and onto my arm.
I rock them a little. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay.”
Toward the fence, footsteps crunch the snow and leaves. One by one, all the dogs in Ranger’s pack walk up, and one by one, they sit down in the same order as before. They stare at the road. I press Mikko’s and Alexi’s heads to my chest and turn my own head toward the road.
Ranger lies on his side. A crimson stain spreads out beneath his body.
I bite down on my tongue and close my eyes. Mikko tries to turn to look. I put his head against my chest and don’t let him.
Chapter 14
The driver of the truck rattles his door handle and pushes on the door. It’s warped and won’t open. He kicks it, and he hits the window. I have a sense that I should get up and help him, but my whole body is shaky and unsteady. If I tried to stand, I think I would fall down. I don’t feel as though I can do anything but sit here in the ditch and hold on to my brothers. Mikko’s sobbing has calmed into soft hiccups. Alexi puts his thumb in his mouth and sucks on it.
A few of Ranger’s pack whine. The dog with the heavy belly howls sadly.
The driver opens his window and crawls through it. He sits down on the road and calls over to us, “Are you kids okay?”
I nod yes.
He pulls a cell phone from his pocket and dials.
In a few minutes, sirens cut the air. Soon flashing lights twirl. At that, Mikko and Alexi perk up and slide out of my tight grip. Mikko has a fat lip, and red eyes from crying. Pink returns to Alexi’s face.
I keep their backs to where I think Ranger landed. I don’t want them to see. I don’t want to see.
“My shoulder hurts,” Alexi says. He uses his other hand to hold the shoulder and grimaces. I notice then that his right arm seems to be hanging off-kilter.
“Can you move it?” I ask.
“Oh!” he cries. He breathes hard and fast. “No. It hurts.”
“Okay,” I say. “Don’t worry. We’re going to get you fixed up.”
A squad car screeches to a halt near the truck. An officer pops out of the vehicle and approaches the driver. “Are you all right?”
The driver points to us. “Take care of them kids,” he says.
The officer nods and then walks toward us. He slows down where Ranger lies in the road, shakes his head, and continues on. He kneels down beside us.
“How are we doing here?” he asks. He’s young, and he seems a little nervous. “You hurt your arm?” he asks Alexi, who is holding on to his shoulder.
“Yeah,” says Alexi. “That truck almost ran me over!” He rubs his shoulder. “And Mikko pushed me into the ditch. Hard.”
The officer smiles with one half of his face. “Sounds like a rough day, pal.” He looks at me. “These your brothers?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you hurt?” he asks.
I gulp. The truth is that everything hurts right now. “Not really,” I say. “Can you check on the dog? I mean, I know you’re here for us, but can you? Will you, please?”
“Uh…” He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I would if I could, but I can’t.”
I nod.
He sighs. “I’m really sorry. Well, the ambulance is on its way, and we’ll get you all checked out. Sit tight.” He heads over to his squad car.
As he puts orange cones around the whole scene, another police officer and the ambulance arrive. The EMTs separate Mikko, Alexi, and me and give us each a thorough examination. Alexi gets strapped onto a stretcher and lifted into the back of the ambulance. Mikko sits in the back of the same ambulance, getting his lip cleaned up. An EMT shines a light in my eyes.
“You feel woozy?” she asks me.
“No,” I lie. “I feel fine.” My mouth fills with a metallic taste, and my stomach turns.
She smiles and pats my knee. “It’s a good thing no one was seriously hurt,” she says. “Coulda been a lot worse.” She grabs my forearm and puts two fingers on my wrist. She stares at her watch.
“Did you happen to see if the dog was—”
She’s looking at her watch, shushes me.
“Okay, that’s fine!” She looks out at the scene on the road. “I’ve seen a lot worse. On this road, even.”
Maybe she’s talking about Mom, and maybe she isn’t.
“Yeah” is all I can think to say. When she seems satisfied with my heart rate, she lets go. I sneak in between the EMTs and peer over their shoulders at my brothers, who are having lights shined in their eyes and ears. “Boys,” I say, “don’t be scared. I’m right here.”
“I’m not scared,” says Mikko, even though his eyes look scared.
“What happened to Ranger?” asks Alexi. “Is he okay?”
An EMT moves me out of the way before I can answer.
With my brothers in good hands, I go find Ranger. The closer I get, the stronger the aroma of blood. I’m used to it, of course, from butchering. Blood has a very curious, inside-out aroma. The only other smell that comes close is what you get when you dig a deep hole, like a grave.
The toe of my boot skims the outer edge of a pool spreading from under Ranger’s head. The blood is already turning from crimson to a deep maroon. The side of Ranger that is faceup is perfectly whole. He could be just any old dog lying down for a lazy rest.
I circle the stain and kneel down at Ranger’s head. His eyes and mouth are closed. I pet him. He’s warm. His chest barely rises and falls.
He’s alive. He’s alive.
I pet him again between the eyes. Then I scratch his head and rub his velvet ears.
He opens his eyes and exhales loudly. “Thank you, Ranger,” I whisper, “for saving my brothers’ lives.” I rest my head on Ranger’s head, let my gray hair fall over his gray hair. Nerves of steel, I think.
“Ah-hem,” I hear. I look up.
Horace Millner.
With all the cars and commotion, I didn’t notice him pulling up.
I sit back out of the way as Millner kneels down and puts his hand on Ranger’s chest. He leans over and listens to his breathing and his heart. Millner inspects Ranger’s leg, which is cockeyed and crushed. Then he wraps Ranger’s body in an old wool army blanket, gently tucks his hands under the dog’s body, a
nd lifts him up like a baby. Ranger groans in pain.
“I’m so sorry,” I tell Horace Millner. My voice shakes and my lip quivers, but I have to tell him. I have to say the words. “It’s all my fault.”
Horace’s lips get tight and thin. His chin quivers.
“It’s not your fault,” he says.
I put my hand over my mouth and close my eyes.
“It was an accident,” he says.
I open my eyes and peer at him. Somehow he seems much smaller and thinner than I thought. He adjusts the blanket over Ranger. “Fern?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m really sorry, too.”
I look down at the ground and then at Horace Millner’s boots. A drop of blood hits them.
“I know you are,” I say.
Horace Millner sighs. “Come on, old boy,” he says. “Let’s take you home and see if we can’t patch you up.”
As Horace Millner walks away carrying that heavy load, he seems to take with him a heavy load of mine.
Chapter 15
Alexi gets to ride to the hospital in the ambulance. The police call Toivo. When they can’t reach him on his phone, they ask if I know where else he might be.
“I’m not sure. Work, maybe?” I say. “Try Kloche’s.”
“Do you have anybody else we can call?” the officer asks. “A mom or an aunt? We’ll put in a call, too, to social services, so there’s someone to be with you until we find your family.”
I pull Mikko close. “Grandpa, I guess.”
Before you know it, what’s an already-crowded country road has Toivo’s white pickup, Gramps’s big diesel, and Miss Tassel’s Caprice parked nose to nose, as if they’re about to race.
All three car doors slam at the same time. All three come running toward Mikko and me.
“Where’s Alexi?” Toivo shouts.
“Is Alexi all right?” Grandpa demands.
“Are you all right?” Miss Tassel wants to know.
Mikko, scared and tired, shrinks into me and sighs. Toivo jogs ahead of Grandpa and Miss Tassel. When he gets to us, Toivo cups each of our faces and looks into our eyes.
The End of the Wild Page 9
