“Why is Waya so mean to Oginali?” I recognized Stephanie’s voice coming from behind me.
“That’s the way wolf packs work. Waya is the alpha wolf, or dominant wolf, and Oginali is the omega. Every pack has an alpha and omega. The omega is the one who gets picked on. But Oginali gets something out of this, too. The alpha is always in charge of the safety of the pack. So Waya keeps watch, fights if she has to, to keep Oginali safe. Oginali doesn’t have to worry. That’s their deal.”
The wolf pack and the horse herd are not that different, I thought. Watching the two wolves, I wondered, Didn’t Oginali hate Waya for eating all her food? And didn’t Waya hate Oginali for always needing her protection?
“The most important thing in a wolf’s life is the pack,” said Russell. “You might think Waya is mean to Oginali, and if they were released, Oginali would want to get as far away from Waya as she could. But if I let these wolves go, they’d most likely stay together. Oginali would probably follow Waya.”
I stared at the two wolves. How could that be?
Russell was talking to Oginali now in a soft voice, the same kind of voice I used to talk to Copper. I liked listening to his voice.
“No more questions?” The mean tone of Russell’s dad’s voice made me jump. He turned to Maggie. “Who has my check?”
Mr. Morgan was getting paid for showing us the wolves? That seemed wrong, as if Waya and Oginali were circus animals or something. I could tell Maggie didn’t like it, either. Or maybe it was just Mr. Morgan she didn’t like.
“Check with Warren in the office,” Maggie turned her back.
A few kids wanted to go over to pet Waya. No one petted Oginali because she had backed under a chair. I hung around, waiting for the rest to leave. After the last kid ran off, I sat on a picnic bench beside Waya, and I held out my palm again.
“Russell,” said his dad. “Put the wolves back in the truck.”
Russell stared at his dad, but didn’t do anything right away.
“What does it mean if a wolf likes you?” I asked Russell.
Russell picked up the food bowls. “I guess it means the wolf trusts you not to hurt it.”
I stroked Waya’s head, studied her golden eyes. “I would never hurt her. Never in a million years.”
“I wish my dad felt that way,” Russell muttered. “Hang on to her while I get Oginali,” Russell handed me Waya’s leash, then knelt and tried coaxing Oginali out from under the chair.
I held the leash while Waya paced back and forth, keeping her eyes on Russell. I noticed a shiny pink scar on Waya’s nose. Waya’s chain collar was buried deeply in her fur. I slid my fingers down behind the collar to see if it was too tight. No one was looking. I loosened it one notch.
During the presentation, Russell had said that a wild wolf’s territory was about forty miles. But Waya lived in that pen.
I looked at the leash wrapped around my hand. All I had to do was just let it go, just like that. Waya would be free.
Russell straightened up as Oginali crawled out from under the chair. “Thanks a lot,” he said. “You’re good with her. It’s like you and Waya have a kind of thing going. Want to help me put her back in the truck?”
“Sure,” I said. I wrapped the leash around my hand once more.
“We have to put Waya in first,” Russell said as we crossed the dark parking lot. “If Oginali gets in first, Waya will attack her.”
“That is so weird.”
“Last year, there was this guy in seventh grade,” Russell said. “No one would sit with him at lunch or on the bus. Everyone said he stunk. People teased him. It’s that way with wolves. Males and females, they single out the omega. Maybe she’s small like Oginali, but for whatever reason, they just pick and pick.”
Waya and Oginali strained on their leashes, tense, half-crouching, as they padded along beside us. Each time one of us spoke, the wolves’s ears cocked backwards listening.
“Same at our school,” I said. “But it seems like every year, someone different gets harassed.” One someone had been me, I thought. I knew what it was like, all right. Mom and Dad’s divorce had been terrible in every way but one—and that was getting to move to a new school when Mom had to sell the house. “I got picked on in third grade, the year my folks split up.” I’d never talked to anyone about it, and here I was telling Russell. But I’d started and I had to finish. I hesitated. I hid the shaking of my hand by tucking my hair behind my ear. I didn’t want to alienate him. “No one would sit with me, either,” I said quietly, envisioning our lunchroom. “Or they copied everything I said for the whole lunch period. They smashed my lunch. Stuck chewed gum on my chair. Poured milkshakes in my soccer bag.”
“I know what you mean,” Russell said softly, like he was talking to Oginali.
The way he said it, I just knew. It had happened to him, too.
“It happened to me in fifth grade. The year Mom died.”
“Your mom died?”
“Car wreck.”
“Oh! That’s terrible. I’m sorry.” I felt dizzy.
“Thanks.”
The silence stretched between us. Then I said, “Seems like they go after you when you’re down.”
“Yep.” Russell lowered the gate to the back of the truck. Inside were two large dog kennels, side by side. He unlocked both gates. Swung them open.
“Okay,” Russell said. “I’ll put her in now.”
I handed him Waya’s leash.
“Let’s go, girl,” he said. He tossed a dog treat into the back of the kennel. Waya jumped onto the truck bed and walked into the narrow crate. I heard her crunching the dog biscuit. Russell slammed the door behind her. The kennel was just big enough for her to turn around and she did, keeping her eyes on Russell and me. Then he threw a treat for Oginali. She hesitated, looking fearfully up at Waya and then at Russell. Finally, she jumped up and slunk into her kennel. I didn’t hear her crunching the dog biscuit.
“She won’t eat until she’s sure Waya’s finished,” Russell explained. He slammed the gate of the truck. “Thanks. See ya later.”
“Wait … um, could I come visit Waya this week?”
Russell shook his head. “Not a good idea. Dad doesn’t like people seeing where he keeps them.”
I opened my mouth to tell Russell it was too late for that now, but quickly closed it again. He’d think I was a snoop. I didn’t let anything show on my face. Through the wire mesh of the kennel gate, I met Waya’s eyes. Again, in my mind, I saw her leaping to freedom. And I wondered, was it possible to exchange thoughts with an animal?
10
STEPHANIE
As darkness fell, the air cooled, and the sky turned deep purple. Nick went to a movie with his folks. He’d wanted to invite me, but his parents said no. It was family time. Daddy had stopped at the front desk to ask about white-water rafting, and Diana was helping Russell put the wolves back in their cages in the truck.
Diana acted all weird with those wolves, like she was obsessed with them or something, asking all those questions and running her hands over that one wolf’s head. I can’t believe she was touching it like that! Was she crazy?
The path to our cabin was dark and kind of spooky, so I ran to catch up with Lynn. She stopped and waited for me, and when I reached her, she brushed hair from my forehead with her fingertips, real gently, just like Mama did sometimes.
“I wanted to ask you something,” Lynn said. “The horses scare you, don’t they?”
“Well … a little.”
Lynn slid her arm over my shoulder. “Would you like me to talk to your dad, get him to take the pressure off?” The pine needles on the path were quiet and springy under our feet. The flashlight beam caught a toad the size of an acorn hopping into the damp grass. A cricket chirped.
I took a deep breath. “You’d do that?”
“Sure.” We climbed the steps to the cabin, and Lynn fished the key from her back pocket. “I’ll talk with him tonight.”
“Wow, tha
t would be great.” At that very minute I felt really relieved. Then, for some reason, I started to not feel so good about it. It felt like I was giving up. Not the kind of girl Daddy wanted me to be. Not perfect. But then I thought, why should I keep trying to be so perfect for Daddy? He’s already disappointed in me, so why bother?
I followed Lynn into the cabin living room. Lynn laid the flashlight on the kitchen counter, switched on a lamp, and headed back to the room she shared with Daddy.
“Hey, want to put on some music?” Lynn went into the bedroom, half-shutting the door. “And maybe we can play a family game when your dad and Diana get back.”
“Okay.” I lined up the CDs, glancing over when I saw Lynn pass across the half-open door to the bedroom. I used to follow Mama back into her room, lie on the bed, and watch her get ready to go places. Mama let me play with her jeweled glass perfume bottles and try on her lipsticks and blushes. Once, when I was about seven or eight, Mama let me wear her makeup to the grocery store. Daddy had gotten mad about that.
I didn’t go in Daddy and Lynn’s room now. I didn’t think Lynn was a person who wore perfume—I couldn’t smell it the way I could with Mama. I knew from just seeing a glimpse now and then that Lynn wore plain white underwear. She wore the same silver hoops in her ears every day, and had only one ring other than the one Daddy had given her. Lynn was a physician’s assistant, so she didn’t even dress up to go to work. She just wore a white jacket with her name on the pocket.
I put on a mixed CD. Lynn came out wearing a gray sweatshirt just as Daddy came in, carrying a couple of white-water-rafting brochures.
“So?” said Lynn. “What’d you find out?” They spread the brochures on the kitchen counter and sat on the tall stools there. Daddy massaged the back of Lynn’s neck. I crawled onto the stool beside Lynn and craned to see the pictures on the brochures of families in yellow rafts, wearing orange life vests and helmets, roaring down a river, screaming their fool heads off.
“Okay, we can go down the Big Pigeon or the Nantahala,” Daddy said. “Both of them have class three and four rapids. The Nantahala has one class five. The Nantahala is also much colder, apparently.”
“I went down the Nantahala in college and had a blast,” said Lynn. “But since you’re a city slicker, Norm, we probably ought to do the Big Pigeon. You know, very calm. Sort of like rafting in a warm bathtub. The city slicker river.” Lynn raised her eyebrows and smiled at Daddy in a real flirty way.
“I vote for the Big Pigeon,” I said. But nobody was paying any attention to me.
“You think I’m too chicken to go down the Nantahala?” Daddy was nose to nose with Lynn, half-smiling. He didn’t even look at me, but I started wondering, Is he trying to make it dangerous just to make me suck it up?
“I do,” said Lynn. Hooking her thumbs under her arms, she did an imitation of a chicken, flapping her elbows. “Brraak! Brrraaak!”
“Oh, yeah? I happen to be an excellent swimmer. I was a lifeguard in college.”
“Some shallow suburban gene pool, right?” Lynn teased. “You sat on a lifeguard stand and twirled a whistle to the right … then twirled your whistle to the left.” Lynn pantomimed whistle twirling. “Norm Verra … expert whistle twirler.”
Lynn pantomimed one last time, and Daddy tickled her ribcage. Lynn screamed and tried to get away. “Help, Stephanie!” she said, laughing, and she tried to get around the couch to dodge Daddy, but he caught up to her and tickled her without mercy. “Stephanie, tickle him, tickle him!” Lynn yelped.
I hesitated a minute, then ran up behind Daddy and started tickling him under the arms.
“Whoa!” Daddy turned around so fast I almost got an elbow in the head. And then both Daddy and Lynn started tickling me at the same time. I screamed and wriggled, and we all lost our balance and fell on the sofa. I was breathless and laughing, and my legs and arms were all tangled up with Daddy’s and Lynn’s. For a minute I forgot about how mad I felt and let happiness flow everywhere in my body like a warm wave.
“We are going down the Nantahala, folks, and that’s my final answer,” Daddy said with a chuckle. “Nobody calls me a chicken.”
“What about a pigeon? Has anybody ever called you a pigeon?” said Lynn.
I took a deep breath. The music on the CD went weaving all around us like a silk ribbon. I wanted Daddy to see the good parts of me, not just the parts that were scared.
The screen door squeaked and then slammed. Diana was standing in the doorway with an annoyed expression on her face.
“What are you guys doing?” Diana’s voice sounded mad.
“Nothing,” Daddy said. “Just a little family tickle-fest. Come on and join us.”
“No way,” said Diana. “You guys look ridiculous.” She headed on up to the loft.
“Hey, we’re going on a family white-water rafting trip day after tomorrow. Norm’s going to sign us up,” Lynn said to her. “Won’t that be fun?”
“I’m not going,” said Diana from the top of the stairs. “I’m riding every day.”
“No, this is going to be a family thing, sweetie; we’re all going,” said Lynn.
“Not me,” came Diana’s voice from deep in the loft bedroom.
“Just a minute, young lady; you stop right there,” said Lynn. She untangled her arm from around me and sat up, looking upstairs.
“What?” said Diana, looking down at us over the loft railing.
“When I want to talk to you, you don’t just walk away. Come back downstairs,” Lynn said, and this time she said it louder.
“No!”
Lynn stood up with her hands on her hips. “Diana, let’s not get in a big argument about this. This is a family vacation and our whole family is going to go white-water rafting. Including you. You’ll get to ride plenty.”
“First of all, we are not a ‘family,’” Diana said, holding her hands and making air quotations. “Second of all, I’m not arguing. I’m just not going.” She glared at all of us and turned away.
I didn’t care whether Diana went rafting. I wanted out myself. But I couldn’t imagine saying all that stuff that Diana was saying.
“Diana, your mother told you to come downstairs.” Daddy’s voice was louder than usual.
“You have nothing to do with me!” Diana said.
I glanced at Daddy’s face and saw it turn all red. I curled into a tight ball in the corner of the couch.
“Diana!” Daddy was shouting now. “Come downstairs right this minute and apologize to your mother for being disrespectful.”
“I’m not doing anything!” Diana’s mad face showed above the railing again.
Daddy got white spots on his cheeks and he pointed his finger at her. I could only remember one time he’d gotten this mad before, and that was at Mama. “And you WILL go rafting with the rest of this family day after tomorrow.”
“I will not!”
“You will come down here now!”
“You can’t tell me what to do!” Diana yelled.
“Norm, calm down, let me talk to her,” Lynn said, touching Daddy’s arm.
Daddy yanked his arm away from Lynn. “I won’t put up with this kind of behavior!” he told her, then shouted upstairs. “That’s it, you won’t set foot in that barn for the rest of the week!”
“No! I hate you!” Diana screamed and ran back into the bedroom.
Lynn ran her fingers through her hair and whispered to Daddy. “Norm, calm down.”
Daddy glared at Lynn. “You don’t think she needs to be punished after talking to us like that?”
“No, of course she needs to be punished, but grounding her from the barn for the rest of our vacation is just extreme. That’s all she lives for.”
Daddy used his regular voice. “Well, give me a minute to calm down. I realize I lost my temper. We should always act with love, I realize that.”
I tried to be silent and invisible as I slid off the couch and climbed the stairs.
“Listen, Norm, she’s a difficult
child. It’s hard to deal with her.”
“Fine, I won’t. I’m going for a walk.”
“We can’t be fighting about these things in front of the kids.”
“Fine. Come with me.”
Lynn glanced up at the loft, and then followed Daddy to the door. The screen door slammed behind them, and their voices got fainter as they headed down the pine needle path. From the top of the stairs I watched the flashlight bob through the trees, shooting beams every which way as Daddy waved his hands around, complaining to Lynn. Daddy and Mama never fought like this. They just didn’t talk, period. I didn’t know which was worse.
I wanted to leave. Go outside and crawl into a hole somewhere. I knelt on my bed, watching Diana cry her eyes out.
“I hate him, I hate him, I hate him! All I want to do is ride! I wish Mom had never met him!”
I felt heat in the back of my skull, hearing Diana say that about Daddy, but I couldn’t help thinking that I kind of hated him right now, too.
And just that very minute, I realized I’d also wished Mama had never met Barry, only I’d never dared to say it out loud. There was something really true about a lot of what Diana said. I felt like I should tell her.
“You know,” I said to Diana. “I know what you mean. I used to feel so sure about Mama’s love before she got married to Barry, and ever since then I sometimes wonder if now I come in second to him.”
She blinked and looked at me for a second, then rolled away from me.
I sat on the edge of Diana’s bed and watched her cry. I wanted to pat her on the back or touch her hair, but Diana was so mad I was almost afraid she might bite or scratch me. Finally I reached out my hand and stroked Diana’s arm. It felt hot and damp.
“I don’t think he should try to make you go,” I said, and my voice sounded all scared and teeny, which made me madder at myself. “It’s a vacation.” I pulled my hand back but swallowed and went on. “I bet Daddy’ll change his mind. Lynn’ll talk him out of it.”
Diana didn’t answer.
I heaved a sigh. Downstairs, the music played, and a woman’s sad voice sang about a girl on her own for the first time, making breakfast by herself. I wiped my wet face but tears just kept sliding out of the corners of my eyes.
Summer of the Wolves Page 5
