“And if I was a whale,” my mother continued. “You and your father could come out here and visit me every day. But you’d have to learn how to speak orca, so we could communicate.”
She made short clicking sounds and cried like a whale.
I shrugged off my dark mood and laughed at her giddy behavior. But I felt a lump in my throat when I replayed the conversation in my mind.
“Look!” my father shouted.
My mother and I turned our heads in unison and saw four whales surfacing near the schooner. The pod frolicked in the water and we shrieked when the largest whale lifted right out of the water and slammed sideways on the surface.
Then I spotted something in the distance.
A single killer whale swam about thirty yards behind the pod. It was a calf and it was trying to catch up to the four adult whales.
My father’s brow pinched in bewilderment. “That’s the same calf we saw last time. But that’s not her pod. They have different markings.”
Saddened, I gazed at the calf. “Where’s her family then?”
He rubbed his face. “She’s somehow gotten separated from them. She’s still rather young to be on her own though.” He flipped through his notebook and jotted something down.
“Will this pod take her in?” my mother asked.
He sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve heard it happen occasionally, but it’s not common for a pod to adopt another whale.”
At that moment, Skip interrupted us. “I think we should head in, Professor. The winds are changing and we could be in for a storm.”
My eyes drifted toward the lonely calf. She followed the other whales, always remaining a safe distance behind them. It was as if she were desperately trying to seek approval from the other pod.
I knew how it felt to be different, to be an outcast.
Two days later, my mother relapsed and was back in Bamfield General. This time she stayed in the hospital for four days and Dr. Anders released her with strict warnings that she was to spend the next two days in bed. He said she needed to rest more during the day and he gave her some medication to take daily.
School had made special accommodations for me during the past month and when I finally returned to class, I was greeted by a warm round of applause from my classmates and Mrs. Higginson.
Everyone seemed to be happy that I was back.
Except Annie Pierce.
On my way to the girl’s washroom, I was ambushed. Annie shoved me inside and barred the exit. Her friends remained out in the hallway, guarding the door.
“Think you’re somethin’ special, don’tcha?” Annie smirked.
I felt like a kitten cornered in a cage with a voracious lion.
“You’re just white trash,” she muttered as she paced in front of me. “And not even Canadian trash. Why don’tcha go on back to the United States?”
Trembling, I said, “Leave me a―”
Without warning, her foot shot out and connected with my knee. I felt a searing pain shoot up my leg and the next thing I knew, I was shoved to the floor.
“White bitch! You think you’re better than me?”
She stomped on my ribs, my arms and my legs.
“Annie, stop it,” I pleaded. “Please…you’re hurting me.”
Her furious eyes narrowed and for a moment I thought she was going to let me go. But she dragged me into one of the stalls and plunged my head into the toilet.
I couldn’t breathe. I choked on bitter toilet water and my nose burned. I thought for sure that I was going to drown. My whole life of eleven years flashed before me. Mom…Dad…
I began to fight back. I scratched at her arms and stabbed my nails into her skin. When she let out a piercing shriek and released me, I stared at her, terrified of what she’d do next.
“Annie…”
She crouched down by my face. “You’re nothing.”
My head smacked hard against the toilet bowl and blackness swirled around me. As I tried to stand up, a wave of dizziness overwhelmed me and I fell to the floor. Voices faded in and out, invading the thick fog of my mind. Blurry faces stared down at me, concerned and caring. Then someone lifted me up.
And I surrendered to the painful but welcoming darkness.
ten
“Sssarah…”
I was a butterfly, wrapped in a warm cocoon. I snuggled in deeper, safe and loved. No worries, no fears…
“Sarah, wake up.”
I reluctantly opened my eyes and blinked a few times.
The cocoon was gone.
My eyes drifted over my surroundings, recognizing the bay window, my swimming ribbons, my room. I was at home, safe in my own bed. My throat was raw, my head throbbed and every inch of my body screamed with pain. I tried to move, to sit up, but the pain was unbearable.
My father stood over me, a worried expression on his face.
“Daddy?” I whimpered.
“It’s okay, Sarah,” he said, pulling a chair to the bed. “Don’t try to sit up, just relax. You’re safe now.”
Memories of Annie’s savage beating engulfed me and I recalled her pushing my face into the toilet. I had thought my life was over. What had I ever done to deserve such treatment?
I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. When I opened them again, my father was watching me. His eyes were red and puffy.
“I hurt all over,” I murmured.
The door opened and my mother entered, carrying a tray. As soon as she saw that I was awake, she rushed to my side, set the tray down and kissed my cheek. I felt a hot tear land on my chin.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
Like I’ve been run over by a logging truck.
But I couldn’t tell her that. “I’m…a little sore.”
“Nana brought you some of her special herbal tea. She said it’ll make you feel much better.”
Although the tea was sweetened with honey, it tasted somewhat peculiar. But if Nana said it would make me feel better, that was all that mattered.
My mother sat down at the foot of my bed. “Sarah, what happened with Annie today? Why would she do this to you?”
I hesitated.
“Tell us,” my father said. “We need to know everything.”
So I told them about Annie’s bullying. Afterward, they sputtered and fumed, and my father paced the floor. He looked like he was ready to hit something.
“Dr. Anders came to the house to check you over,” he said after he had calmed down. “You have a few bruised ribs, a cut on your forehead and some bruises. Other than that…you’re fine.”
“You call that fine?” my mother asked, outraged. “Look at her, Jack. Annie almost killed her.” Her voice broke and she turned away.
My father walked to the window. “Annie’s been suspended from school for the next two weeks. You’ll be staying home for a few days, Sarah. After that…” He shrugged. “We’ll see.”
I eyed him warily. “What do you mean?”
“Your mother and I’ve been talking. We think it would be better for you to go to another school on the island. It would mean a longer bus ride, but at least you wouldn’t be bullied anymore.”
“But Dad,” I argued, struggling to untangle myself from the blanket. “I don’t want to go to another school.”
“What about this Annie girl?” my mother snapped. “Look what she did to you. Dad and I couldn’t believe it when the principal called to tell us what had happened.”
“We just want you safe,” my father added.
I felt a lump in my throat and my eyes watered. “I know. But what about Goldie and my other friends? I’ll be okay…really. I don’t want to change schools.”
His jaw clenched. “We’ll talk about this tomorrow. You just rest for now.” He motioned to my mother and they left.
Anxious thoughts churned in my head. I’d be heartbroken if my parents made me move to another school. I would miss Goldie terribly. At that moment, I hated Annie more fiercely than I had ever hated anyone. I felt humilia
ted that she had beaten me up and that I had not fought back. I berated myself for my weakness, and refused to ever let her touch me again. In my childish heart, I condemned her to a miserable fate and I prayed that she would suffer ten times worse than I did.
“I hate you, Annie Pierce.”
My parents said that I could remain at Bamfield Elementary as long as Annie stayed out of my way, so four days later I returned to school. Mrs. Higginson hugged me when I entered the classroom, and Goldie who had visited me almost every day, gave me a card signed by the entire class.
“You’ve had such a rough time, dear,” Mrs. Higginson said to me. “If anyone bothers you again, you let me know.”
At lunch, I sat with Goldie and four other girls.
“It sure is quiet without her here,” my friend whispered.
“You can say that again,” I agreed.
She grinned. “It sure is quiet without her here.”
I elbowed her and we laughed.
Without Annie threatening me, school became a safe haven and I settled into a regular routine of classes and homework. I was becoming one of the more popular girls in the school and I loved that everyone had missed me.
On my second day back, I was surprised to find an envelope stuffed in my desk. Inside was a card decorated with a bright yellow happy face. I opened it and smiled, thinking it was from Goldie.
School is boring without your happy smile and laugh.
I read the signature and blushed.
Adam.
My stomach was tied up in knots and I couldn’t look at him for the entire day. Adam likes me. I felt a warm fluttering in my stomach, but at almost twelve years old I told myself I was being ridiculous.
As we rode the bus home, I showed the card to Goldie.
“Ah ha!” she snorted. “See? He does like you.”
She giggled about that card all the way home.
“Wanna ride bikes later?” she asked before I climbed off the bus. “I’ll show you around town―unless you’re still hurting.”
“No, I’m okay now. Bike riding sounds good.”
When my homework was done, I rode over to her house and followed her down the winding road to town. Every now and then, she would stop, point at a house and tell me who lived there. I was surprised that some of the kids from my class lived quite close to me.
Goldie braked in front of a large modern two-story with red brick pillars at the driveway entrance. “Denise lives here,” she said. “Her dad’s rich. He owns two companies and her mom’s some kinda brain doctor.”
We pedaled past the huge house and down an overgrown gravel road. I detoured around rocks and crumbling potholes and pedaled harder to keep up to her.
“There are two houses down here,” she hollered over her shoulder. “But only one is…important.” She smirked.
The first house we came to was a small bungalow with a beautiful yard full of wildflowers. A sprinkler sat unattended on the lawn while country music drifted from a kitchen window. A tire swing with a well-worn path below it was suspended off a tree branch.
“Whose house is this?” I asked.
A second later, I had my answer.
“Hey, Sarah,” a familiar voice called from behind the bushes.
Adam appeared, carrying a shovel in one hand.
I gaped at him.
His face was streaked with fresh soil and his jeans were torn at both knees. Most of the girls at school thought he was cute and I couldn’t help but agree with them. He was my first crush―a crush that lasted an eternity.
“Goldie Dixon!” I hissed. “You are sooo dead.”
Adam walked over to us, but I wouldn’t look at him.
Goldie giggled. “I’m taking Sarah on a tour. Wanna come?”
I jabbed her in the side with my elbow. What is she doing?
“I can’t,” Adam said with a shrug. “I’m helping my mom in the garden out back. We’re getting it ready for planting.”
“Maybe next time,” I murmured as I grabbed Goldie’s arm and hauled her back to our bikes.
Adam watched us ride away. I knew it even though I refused to look back.
Goldie grinned. “Hey, Sarah? He’s still looking at you.”
I smacked her arm and raced off ahead, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
“Wait up!” she shouted. “Let’s head back.”
My bike skidded to a halt, sending rocks flying across the road. “I thought you said there’s another house up ahead.”
“We don’t need to see that house. It’s not important.”
Suspicious, I peered down the road and glimpsed a deserted yard that was overgrown with dandelion weeds and untrimmed bushes. The rusted frame of an ancient Ford pickup truck was parked on the driveway, two of its tires deflated. Beyond the truck stood an old rundown farmhouse that sat broken and uncared for in its graceless presence. A metal screen door hung off one rusty hinge. It screeched in rebellion as a gust of wind caught the door and slapped it against the side of the house.
Goldie’s dark brown eyes followed my gaze. “Annie lives there. Just her and her dad. He’s a drunk.”
Shocked, I stared back at the house. There wasn’t a single trace of life. “Where’s her mom?”
“They don’t know. She took off with some guy a couple years ago―a white man.”
Annie’s spitefulness and hatred of me suddenly made sense.
Goldie nudged me. “Let’s get out of here. Before she sees us.”
As we sped away, I glanced over my shoulder and saw a shadow pass behind a fluttering curtain in a second story window.
I swear I saw a face peering down at me.
The next time I saw Annie, she was sitting in the principal’s office. The door was slightly ajar and I could see her pale face. It was filled with fear. She stared at her lap and didn’t even notice me standing out in the hall.
A man’s loud, angry voice muttered a curse. “Of course she’ll behave. She knows better now. I don’t trust her home by herself and I haven’t got time to sit around with her all day. A man’s gotta work, ya know.”
A burly, unshaven hulk paced past the open door.
Annie’s father.
Mr. Pierce’s long black hair drooped over his shoulders. His clothes were faded, torn and dirty. His black eyes flared as they rested on Annie.
The principal said something I couldn’t hear.
“She won’t touch that white girl again,” Mr. Pierce mumbled.
“Annie can return next week,” the principal said.
Holding my breath, I gripped the doorframe and took a silent step back as Annie stood up. When I heard footsteps approaching the doorway, I darted around the corner and hid in the shadows of a trophy case. I clamped my eyes shut and prayed that they wouldn’t see me.
They walked right past me.
“Get your lazy ass on home,” Mr. Pierce growled.
I saw him grab Annie’s arm and shove her toward the exit. When his fist reached back and cuffed her across the back of the head, I gasped in shock. I thought of my father, so kind and gentle…my best friend in the whole world. He would never hurt me like that.
I didn’t understand how any father could be so cruel. I was conflicted. The bruised, bullied part of me felt that Annie deserved every bit of abuse for all the pain―both physical and emotional―that she had caused me.
Yet deep in my heart, I felt immensely sorry for the girl.
The following week, I ventured out on my bike alone. Somehow, I found myself parked in the bushes beside Annie’s house. I inspected the yard. There was no one in sight and I prayed that nobody would find me spying.
“What are you doing?” I reprimanded myself.
I reached for my bike with the intention of leaving, but Annie darted from around the side of the house. I saw terror written all over her face. Then her father staggered out of the house, yelling at the top of his lungs.
“Get back here!”
I was paralyzed.
Like
a deer trapped in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle, I didn’t dare move an inch. I tried to slow my breathing for fear that they would hear my ragged gasps. Shrinking back into the bushes, I was unable to look away.
Mr. Pierce yanked on Annie’s arm. “You’re nothing, you stupid bitch. Nothing but a worthless piece of crap.”
You’re nothing.
I instantly flashed to the day she had beaten me up in the girl’s washroom. She’d said those exact words to me just before I had blacked out.
I watched in horror as her father wheeled her around and slapped her across the face. Then he shoved her away and disappeared into the house.
There was complete calm. Not even a bird chirped.
I quietly wheeled my bike toward the road, but then I heard something and looked over my shoulder. Annie had collapsed to the ground, small and broken. I watched as she began to sob hysterically. I was horrified by what I’d witnessed and confused by the mixed feelings I had. I hated her…yet I felt so awful for her.
I took an unsteady step forward.
Snap!
Her shoulders stiffened. She stopped crying, her hand swiping angrily at the dampness on her cheeks. Her piercing glare inspected the bushes, drifting slowly toward my hiding place.
I held my breath, waiting…
eleven
Time stood still while I cowered in the bushes outside Annie’s house. I was certain that she would discover me. Thankfully, she vanished inside. I was on my bike and down that road so quickly I didn’t even have time to look back. I scrunched low over the handlebars and pedaled frantically―scared that she or her father would come after me.
“Please don’t let her see me,” I whispered.
When I reached my house, I tossed my bike against a hydrangea bush, ran inside and slammed the door. I leaned against it, panting. “Mom,” I called. “I’m home.”
There was no answer and my heart skipped a beat. Until I found the note that my mother had left. She was at Nana’s.
Whale Song: A Novel Page 9
