The End of the Wild

by Nicole Helget

  Lots of kids have “Which Brand Is Best?”–type projects. Toilet cleaners. Paper towels. Dish detergent. Diapers. Those are all pretty boring, too, except for Michelle Berkner’s. Her dad is a dairy farmer, so she tested which laundry soap works best to get out cow manure scent. She has before-and-after washings for everyone to sniff.

  One girl has Christmas lights all over her project, “Which Nail Polish Lasts Longest?”

  “Cool project,” I tell her. She’s one of Margot’s friends. “Which one lasts longest?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugs. “My mom did the whole thing.”

  Next to hers is Emily and Margot’s project: “Making Eggs Bounce: The Effect of Acetic Acid on Calcium Carbonite.”

  “Wow,” I say. “Do eggs really bounce?”

  “Hi, Fern,” says Margot. “They do! Don’t they, Emily?”

  Emily grabs an egg and drops it on the ground. It bounces. “See?”

  “Cool,” I say.

  The gym doors open and parents, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles, and neighbors flood in. By the time I get back to my project, there’s a crowd gathered around my display. A lady points at my wild-plum card. “Is that right outside Colter?” one lady asks another. “Where Kloche’s wants to put that disposal pond?”

  “I’m not sure,” says the other lady. “I sure hope not. That’d be a shame.”

  They smile at me, and I’m not sure if they want me to answer their questions. I decide to anyway. “Yes. Most of these foods are found in those woods right outside town.”

  “Oh my goodness,” says the first lady. She puts her hand to her chest. “I’m going to write a letter to the editor. We can’t let those woods be cut down.”

  “You know,” her friend says, “my mother used to make black-currant jam when we were kids. Seems to me she used to find the currants out in these same woods.”

  Alkomso and I are talking when a man in a business suit approaches us. He stands back and first eyes my project and then Alkomso and Mark-Richard’s. “Quite a conundrum,” he says. “But if you girls can discuss it rationally, then I guess we adults should be able to, too.” He leans in closer to Alkomso’s miniature drilling model. “Can you tell me how this works?” he asks.

  “Sure,” she says.

  An elderly man gets up close to my face. “Young lady,” he says. “My dad was a logger out there years ago when they decided not to cut down that stand of trees, and a man named Millner bought it up. Got a nice duck pond on that land, I think.”

  “That’s right, sir,” I say. “Kloche’s is trying to pressure the county to annex that land from Mr. Millner.”

  “That’d be a dang shame,” he says. “Don’t seem right at all.” He pats me on the head. “You keep up the good work. Colter needs rangers like you guarding the trees and plants.”

  Alkomso’s mom and dad come by with Kaltumo. Hamdi moons over Alkomso, hugging and kissing her and telling her what a good job she did. Kaltumo wails the entire time. Alkomso’s mom hands the baby to me. I bounce her up and down on my hip until she stops crying and giggles. When she starts crying again, I give her to Mr. Isak. “She only likes her daddy,” he says, smiling at the baby.

  Mark-Richard’s foster parents come, too. They seem really nice. They tell him they are very proud of him, and even though he is stiff, they hug him tight. He even smiles and puts one arm around his foster mother, whose name is Amy.

  “You did such a great job!” says Amy. Then she tells him they have a surprise for him.

  “Really?” he says. “What?”

  They turn around and wave for someone to come over. From behind a bunch of adults, Gary runs up and dives into the arms of Mark-Richard.

  “Gary!” Mark-Richard screams. He lifts his brother up, even though the kid is pretty big. “Gary, I missed you so much.” Gary twists his arms around Mark-Richard’s neck and holds on tight.

  I’m too big for this, but I have to look away so that I can compose myself and not cry. Seeing Mark-Richard and Gary together again makes my heart light up like a starry night. The foster parents put their arms around each other, and the foster mom wipes a tear away from her cheek. I turn around to let them have some privacy.

  The gym is packed with people. I scan all the heads.

  “Fern!” I hear. “Fern! Over here!”

  Grandpa, taller than everyone, moves through the people like a knife separating a muskmelon.

  Chapter 23

  Everyone moves out of his way. He lays his giant hand on my shoulder and takes in my poster. “Look at this! This is marvelous!” He stares at the antlers and cocks his head.

  “Thanks, Grandpa.” My stomach flops. Why is he here? Is he just going to cause trouble with Toivo again? Is he here to see how I’ve done? Like another test for Toivo?

  He pulls out a pair of glasses from his shirt pocket and puts them on to read my cards.

  “Wonderful,” he says.

  Is my project wonderful enough to prove to him that I’m doing well in school? Knowing Grandpa, it’s not unless I win the prize. And there are a lot of good projects, so I know that I’m not likely to win. Especially since mine has deer antlers on it.

  “It was nice of you to come,” I say, hoping he takes it as a hint to go away. I look around, hoping Toivo isn’t here yet. The last thing I want is the two of them together.

  The movement of all the people in the auditorium has created its own kind of wind. The feathers on my project dance around. Grandpa reaches up and catches a floating feather. He slips it in my hair, behind my ear. I touch the feather and giggle. “Mikko and Alexi helped me with my project.”

  “I could have guessed.” He studies my project again. “My, my, my.” He chuckles. “You are Johanna’s daughter. When she was in sixth grade, she made dyes out of things she found outside and around the house.” He takes a hankie out of his back pocket and blows his nose. “She got a blue ribbon!” He emits a laugh that has a cry in it.

  I love when he tells me about Mom. I want to know everything I’m missing. Now I don’t know if I want him to leave or I want him to stay. I take Grandpa’s hand and don’t care that his are as sweaty as mine.

  “She stained every towel in the house,” he says. “But her stepmom didn’t care. They had a lot of fun figuring out what colors you could get out of different things.” He hoists up his belt buckle. “I’m just real proud of you here.” He points to the deer antlers. “Let me guess. Mikko and Alexi’s idea?”

  Just then Miss Tassel approaches us. I guess practically the whole town is here.

  “Hello there, Mr. Greene, so nice to see you again,” she croons. She’s all dressed up in a pantsuit, but there’s a stain of some kind on the lapel.

  Grandpa bows his head a little bit. “And you as well, Miss Tassel. What do you think of my granddaughter’s project here?”

  Miss Tassel gives my project a glance without really looking at any of the details. “It’s good,” she says. “But not as good as the food this young lady prepares. Yummy. I’ve been craving those pickled ramps since I left.” She pokes me in the arm. “Maybe I can come visit again in the spring? Get some?”

  “Sure,” I say.

  My brothers bust through the crowd, and each grabs one of Grandpa’s legs. “Grandpa!”

  That means Toivo is here, too. My heart pounds. Please don’t fight. Please, please, please don’t fight.

  “Oh, my boys,” says Grandpa.

  “Did you see how we helped Fern?” Mikko lets go of Grandpa’s leg and stares proudly up at his contribution to the project as though it’s a hot-air balloon in the sky.

  “I put on the feathers so it wasn’t boring,” Alexi says. “Before I helped, Fern made it really boring with only lots of words.”

  Grandpa hoists him up and slobbers on him with kisses that Alexi wipes off. Alexi kicks until Grandpa sets him down. “You boys did a fine job of helping,” says Grandpa. “When you’re big, I’m going to put you in charge of my factories.”

 
“I’ve got to run,” says Miss Tassel. She jabs Grandpa in the chest. “We’ll be in touch about that proposal I laid out, right?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” says Grandpa. “Toivo and I will talk it over. We’ll get back to you.”

  Even though we’re all connected and what one does affects everyone else, adults have these secret lives that kids can’t get into. In the same way, though, kids have secret lives, too. It’s like the plants and the animals in the woods: They all depend on each other, but they all have their own way of living there.

  “Big John.” Toivo arrives in his work shirt, a cigarette behind his ear.

  I move to stand in between them.

  “Toivo,” says Grandpa. He stares at Toivo’s work shirt. He moves his mouth as though he’s about to say something more, but Miss Taft raps on the podium.

  “Attention, please! Attention! We will now begin the ribbon and prize distribution. Students, please remain at your projects.”

  I don’t move. Toivo puts his hand on one of my shoulders. Grandpa puts his on the other. Each side feels like a cement block.

  The judges move seriously throughout the crowd. They check their clipboards and then place ribbons on the boards. White, green, red, and blue. The girl to my left gets a blue ribbon hung on her project, and then the judge walks past me and Alkomso and Mark-Richard to put a red ribbon on the project next to theirs. The judge steps back, checks her clipboard, and moves on.

  Finally, a different judge stands before Alkomso, Mark-Richard, and me. Two ribbons dangle from her fingers. A blue one and a deep purple one. My heart races.

  “Oh my God,” says Alkomso. “Fern!”

  I look at her. I can’t smile or say anything. It feels as though I got caught out in the cold and my face is frozen. My ears ring like crazy. Could I have won the purple ribbon? The Grand Champion ribbon? The $250 prize? Grandpa squeezes my shoulder.

  The judge checks her clipboard, and then she reads my project title. She hangs a blue ribbon on the corner of my board.

  My heart sinks.

  Grandpa drops his hand from my shoulder. “What?” he says.

  Toivo pulls me into his side. I want to hide behind him. I didn’t win.

  “You did great,” he whispers.

  Tears well up in my eyes. Grandpa looks at Toivo and says loudly, “Can you believe that? This is ridiculous. Fern’s project is outstanding. My granddaughter—”

  “Shhh,” Toivo says to him.

  Grandpa looks as though he’s about to let Toivo have it for shushing him. But then Grandpa looks at me and sighs. His eyes are getting glassy, too.

  Miss Taft smacks the podium. “Ladies and gentlemen! Attention, please!”

  Everyone quiets.

  “Students of Colter Elementary,” she says, “congratulations on another successful STEM fair. As your administrators and teachers, we want to extend our pride in your work.” She pauses as everyone claps. “And now the moment you’ve all been waiting for.” She shuffles a few papers.

  I’m embarrassed because I know my eyes are watery, but I look at Alkomso, who is looking right at me.

  “You did great,” she whispers.

  I can’t even smile.

  Miss Taft continues. “The Reserve Champion is, for ‘How a Carburetor Works,’ Matthew Klein.”

  From one pocket of the gym, a few people hoot and holler. Grandpa crosses his arms and groans.

  Miss Taft waits for the crowd to quiet down. Then she continues. “Finally, the Grand Champions, who will represent Colter Elementary School at the regional STEM fair, are Mark-Richard Haala and Alkomso Isak, for ‘How Fracking Works.’” The judge steps forward and hands Alkomso the purple ribbon.

  The blood drains from my face. Alkomso beat me. Fracking beat the woods.

  Alkomso gives the ribbon to Mark-Richard, who stares at it likes it’s a golden egg.

  Toivo takes his arm off me and claps. When a big tear slips down my cheek, I quickly wipe it away. I am a big loser. Losing in public makes it even worse. I lost in front of my brothers, in front of Toivo, and in front of Grandpa. I wish the earth would swallow me up. Toivo elbows me until I clap, too. Slowly.

  Mark-Richard rubs his fingers over the lettering of the ribbon. He looks up at the ceiling and then smiles really big. “I’ve never won anything before!” he says. Alkomso high-fives him. I clap harder. I clap like I really mean it, until I do really mean it.

  When Alkomso’s and Mark-Richard’s families swarm them and no one is paying attention to me, I reach up and snatch the blue ribbon off my project and stuff it in my pocket. Only Grandpa and Toivo see. I slide in close to Toivo and hang my head, hair falling all around my face like curtains. Toivo puts his arm around me again and pulls me close. His new shirt smells like plastic, but I don’t care.

  “Fern,” Grandpa says. He pulls out his wallet. “Fern, how about you stay with me tonight?” He slides a bill out and extends it toward me. “You did a great job. You take this and buy yourself something nice with it.” It’s a $100 bill. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow in the big city, how about?”

  Toivo squeezes me. My little brothers jump up and try to reach the bill.

  “Thanks, Grandpa,” I say. “But I think I’d rather go home tonight. I think I’d just rather go home with Toivo and the boys.”

  Alexi springs up and, with his good arm, snatches the bill from Grandpa. Like hounds playing with a bone, the boys hover over the money, turning it, flipping it, smelling it. Toivo taps my side.

  “But maybe tomorrow,” I say. “Um. Maybe tomorrow we can come over and watch a movie with you or something?”

  “Yeah,” says Toivo. “I’d be happy to drive them over for the day. If you want.”

  Grandpa fiddles with his wallet, finally closing it and putting it back in his pocket

  “Big John?” says Toivo.

  Grandpa looks up. His cheeks are wet. He nods several times. He reaches into his pocket again. This time, instead of his wallet, he yanks out his hankie. After he blows his nose, he says, “I’d like that.” He comes over and kisses my head. “I wasn’t sure what to expect tonight. Wasn’t sure you were going to pull it off, to tell you the truth.”

  I’m afraid he’s going to mention that I didn’t actually pull it off.

  “But I underestimated you. You did a fine job here.” He pinches his nose with his hankie, wipes both nostrils. “I underestimated all of you,” he says.

  Toivo shuffles his feet. “You don’t have to—” he begins.

  “Yes,” interrupts Grandpa. “Yes, I do. Now, I like that proposal Miss Tassel put together. I can live with that so long as you keep up the work and the kids keep up their schooling.”

  Toivo nods slowly.

  Grandpa hugs me. “Your mom’s hair used to smell like that, too.” He sighs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I hope?”

  Toivo nods. “I think that’s going to work out fine.”

  “Good, good,” says Grandpa. “Gives me a chance to see the grandkids, and you a chance to put in some overtime.”

  After Grandpa leaves, I glance at Toivo. I don’t even have to ask. He knows what I want to know.

  “Miss Tassel,” he begins. “Well, she thought up an arrangement that’s pretty agreeable.”

  “And?”

  “She, uh… she, uh, suggested that you kids spend one weekend a month with Big John. Grandpa, I mean. That you spend one weekend a month with Grandpa during the school year and then two weeks with him in the summer.” Toivo rubs his chin with his free hand.

  “Oh,” I say.

  “But I was going to ask you first before I agreed.”

  “You mean I get a say?” I stare at his eyes.

  “Yeah. You get a say.”

  I think about it for a few seconds. “No more letters from Children’s Protective Services?” I ask.

  “Nope,” he says.

  “No lawyers or fighting with Gramps?”

  “Right. No more.”

  “Yeah. I can live with that.” I
tuck my hair behind my ears. “I like that plan.”

  Chapter 24

  When the crowd finally clears out a little, we begin packing up our projects. Alkomso’s dad is being extra careful with hers and Mark-Richard’s because they’ve got to take it to the regional STEM fair in a couple of weeks.

  Just as I’m about to congratulate them, the judge walks up and hands Alkomso the check.

  “Oh my God!” she squeals.

  “Alkomso!” her dad scolds. “We don’t use that language.”

  “Oh my goodness, I mean.” She rolls her eyes again and looks at me like Dad is such a drag.

  “Let me see it!” I do my best to sound cheerful. I want to be, but I still feel like a failure, so it’s hard. Even if Alkomso is my best friend, even though I am proud of her, I still feel really let down. Mostly I feel disappointed in myself. Mostly I wonder if I’m just wrong. I wonder if everyone thinks fracking is more important than my mushrooms, my ramps, and my beechnuts. I wonder if fracking really is more important than the bears, the coyotes, and the wild turkeys. I wonder if I just embarrassed myself in front of the whole school and the whole town for nothing.

  “What should we do with it?” Alkomso asks me.

  “I don’t know. I guess you should celebrate with it.”

  Alkomso scratches her head. “I don’t know.… I’ve been thinking. What if we, like, I don’t know, what if we bought some of those trees or something? So that they can’t be cut down?”

  I know $250 isn’t enough for even one tree, but her words make me feel a little better. “That’s nice of you. But I think you should spend it on your family. For a party or something.”

  A woman with a notebook taps Alkomso on the shoulder. “Excuse me. I’m with the newspaper,” she says.