Summer of the Wolves

by Lisa Williams Kline

  “You two coming?” said Doc as he climbed in behind the wheel.

  “Yeah,” Russell said. “Hey, you ought to come,” he said to me. “You’re the one who has that telepathic thing going with Waya.” He caught my eye. My heart kind of thudded. He raised his fingers in a goodbye gesture as Maggie swung into the cab. Doc backed the truck out onto the road.

  Stephanie, Nick, and I watched in silence as a swirl of dust followed the truck down the dirt road. I glanced at Stephanie, whose eyes were wide and watery. With Nick here there was nothing we could say.

  Just then Mom and Norm came out on the porch with their coffee cups. Mom came over and kissed my forehead, saying, “Oh, you’re up, sweetie, did you catch up on your sleep?” I could tell Norm felt bad about yelling at me last night because he kept cutting his eyes at me with a half smile, but I also knew he wouldn’t say anything with Nick around. Maybe Nick would hang around with us all day. Everyone would be polite. Pleasant. I wouldn’t get interrogated.

  “Hey, kids, how about a trip to Tweetsie Railroad?” Norm said in a jovial voice.

  Tweetsie Railroad was for little kids, but considering how mad Mr. Morgan was, maybe going to Tweetsie Railroad was the perfect thing to do.

  “Okay,” I shrugged. “It’s okay with me.” I almost smiled when I saw the look of shock on Mom’s face.

  Stephanie looked a little surprised, too, but went along in a heartbeat. “Hey, that might be fun.”

  “Nick, would you like to come to Tweetsie Railroad with us?” said Mom.

  “I’ll ask,” he said with a quick grin and headed inside the lodge, leaving the screen door swinging.

  So, that’s how we ended up driving down the mountain with Stephanie squeezed between Nick and me in the backseat. I noticed that when Nick had a choice of getting in the car beside me or Stephanie he picked Stephanie.

  Stephanie and Nick played stupid games like saying “jinx” when they said the same thing or poking each other in the arm or saying “punch-buggy, no take-backs” when they saw a Volkswagen. Nobody poked my arm or said “jinx” to me so I just acted like it was stupid.

  At Tweetsie Railroad we rode around in the woods in an old-timey train. Some guy with a mountain twang made lame announcements about how the Tweetsie Railroad was pretty dangerous. He hoped we came out of it alive. Once the train stopped, high school and college kids dressed in cowboy and Indian costumes faked a fight. Another time some so-called bandits with kerchiefs tied over their noses and mouths got on the train and walked up and down the aisle telling people to empty their pockets. Nick and Stephanie giggled as they swaggered by.

  Norm embarrassed everyone by acting like he was in the scene, too. He stood up and said, “Citizens’ arrest! Citzens’ arrest!” He got one of the bandit college kids in an armlock, and when the kid with the badge jumped on board, he yelled, “I got this one for you, Sheriff!”

  The sheriff was a little surprised. Looked at the bandits and laughed, but he went along with it. “Hey, good work, Pop,” he said.

  “Omigosh, I have never been so embarrassed in my life,” Stephanie said. She ducked her head and hid her face on Nick’s shoulder.

  “Norm, you’re embarrassing the kids; would you sit down?” Mom kept saying. But she was laughing in between her words. Everyone spent a lot of time trying to get me to laugh with them but I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. Even if some of the stuff was kind of funny. After the train there were a few other rides. Then we got hot dogs and funnel cakes and sat at a picnic table to eat them.

  On the way home we stopped at a place beside the road where people could pan for gemstones. Norm bought everyone a big bucket full of dirt, each of which was guaranteed to have at least five gems, including emeralds and sapphires. I couldn’t imagine my dad ever doing that. He would have called it a rip-off joint. Wouldn’t even have stopped the car.

  I watched Mom with Norm, the way they touched each other all the time, just lightly, like they owned each other. Mom and Dad had fought all the time. I never saw them touch. And Stephanie was smacking Nick’s arm, hiding her eyes on his shirt. Nick was into it.

  Well, so what. Boys in general could eat dirt.

  We sat on wooden benches and poured the dirt, one handful at a time, into a trestle with water running over a screen. The water washed the dirt through the screen, and a few of the ordinary-looking rocks transformed under the stream of water to become vivid purple, amber, and tiger-striped gems.

  And I couldn’t believe it, Norm and Mom bought a bucket, too. They sat together with their shoulders touching. Sifting through the sand.

  “It’s like a rock makeover,” said Stephanie, giggling. She held up a brown dirt-coated rock. “Before.” She held up a shiny wet chunk of tigereye. “After.”

  Then Norm jumped up holding a brownish-looking rock and said, “Lynn, love of my life, we’re rich. Now I can buy you that big screen TV you’ve always wanted!”

  I watched Mom laugh. She sounded like a teenager. I didn’t think I’d ever seen her laugh like that before. “Norm, that’s a rock. A plain old rock. Would you please sit down?”

  But Norm kissed the rock. Then kissed Mom. “And I know how much you’ve wanted that digital cable with eleven different sports channels, and now we can get that for you, too, honey.” Norm hugged Mom. She couldn’t stop laughing.

  I heard Nick whisper to Stephanie, “That is just a rock, right?”

  “Right.”

  “So, is your stepmom a big sports fan?”

  And Stephanie laughed and said, “No, Daddy is. He’s just acting stupid again.”

  Stephanie and I looked at each other. Tried to keep straight faces. The clouds had blown away and it had not rained at all. The afternoon sun blanketed my head and shoulders like warm hands. I got a little sleepy then, sitting on the bench, searching for hidden gems. Maybe it was my pill. But maybe it was just being there. Time spun by in a golden lazy way and I had to admit it was nice.

  Moronic Mood-o-Meter steady on five point five.

  Later in the afternoon Nick and Stephanie went to look at some arrowheads in a gift shop. I got a little nervous about Nick and Stephanie being together. Would Stephanie accidentally give something away? I was about to follow them when Norm came over. Put his arm around my shoulders.

  “Sorry I lost my temper,” Norm told me. “And your mom says grounding you from the barn for the whole week was too harsh. You had to skip riding today, and your mom says that’s enough. We’ll all go raftin’ as a family tomorrow, and then you can ride the rest of the week. How’s that?”

  “That sounds okay,” I mumbled. I stared at the ground. Norm’s arm hugged my shoulders, heavy and warm.

  Later that night, I followed Stephanie into the loft bathroom and shut the door behind us. I turned on the fan so its noise would cover our conversation.

  “You swear you didn’t tell Nick?”

  Stephanie looked up from brushing her teeth. She shook her head. Spit out toothpaste. “No!” she said. “I promised you, didn’t I?” It was nearly ten. Stephanie had just taken a shower. Her long wet hair had made a dark half-moon on the back of her pajama top. “I didn’t, I swear. But I feel so terrible.” Stephanie put the top on the toothpaste. “I mean, I felt sorry for the wolves in that pen. I thought we were helping them. But it turns out we weren’t.”

  I sat down on the closed toilet lid. “Let’s face it, we weren’t thinking about what we were doing.” I heaved a sigh. Knew my face didn’t look as confident as I wanted it to.

  Stephanie sat on the edge of the tub. She rubbed her eyes, then wrapped a towel around her wet hair. “I don’t know, maybe if we said we didn’t know it was wrong. I mean, most people would think what we thought—that wolves are wild animals and shouldn’t be in a pen. But look at all that Maggie and Russell went through today. Riding through the woods looking for them with Doc. And Maggie calling all the farmers and stuff nearby, telling them. And did you hear her at dinner telling what that one farmer said?”

&n
bsp; “Yeah.” I stared at the floor. “If the wolves come on his property they’ll never leave alive. And someone at dinner said that Mr. Morgan’s been driving around looking for them, too. I don’t want him to get the wolves back! What if Mr. Morgan finds them before Maggie and Russell do?” I looked back up at Stephanie. “I wish we could go look for them ourselves.”

  “But how can we? We’ll be gone rafting all day.”

  16

  STEPHANIE

  “You can call me Wild Wes. They let me out of the joint for good behavior on Monday, and I’ve been a river guide since Tuesday.” The skinny, tanned guy at the front of the bus wore ancient jams and light brown dreadlocks. He had a real crazy smile. “This guide here is Jesse, who deserves a big round of applause for finally passing his lifesaving course after taking it seven times. Last but not least is Zeke. Yesterday was his first day back after an extended hospitalization, which occurred the last time he went down this river. Even though he’s blind and deaf now, he will be able to guide you around the rapids using his acute sense of smell.”

  I pulled the straps tighter on my orange life vest. I poked Diana, next to me. “He’s making that up, right?”

  Diana nodded and laughed. “He’s kidding, Steph.”

  Once Diana had figured out that rafting was kind of dangerous, she suddenly acted real excited about it. I was trying to look on the bright side.

  The bus lurched as it pulled into a gravel parking lot just below the dam, and Wild Wes grabbed an overhead railing, showing off his tattoo of this coiled-up river monster on his upper arm. The bus pulled over to a place by itself on the corner of the lot. “This here dam is right on the Tennessee line. We have to park at this end of the lot because me and Jesse, we would be violating our probation if we left the state of North Carolina. But don’t worry, you’re going to be perfectly safe with us.”

  Everybody laughed, real nervously, as we stood up and filed off the bus. We looked like a bunch of big old bugs, standing around in our orange vests and helmets. Wild Wes assigned each group to a guide, then said to Daddy, “Your group goes with me.”

  “I guess we should say our last goodbyes, then,” Daddy joked.

  “That’s right,” said Wild Wes with a big old grin. “If there’s anything you’ve been meaning to say to your loved ones, best say it now. Don’t hold back.”

  Daddy took Lynn by the shoulders and looked real deeply into her eyes. “Honey, I don’t care for your meat loaf.”

  Lynn rolled her eyes at Diana and me. “I’m afraid it’s going to be like this all day, girls.” She put her hands on Dad’s cheeks. “Sweetheart, put a sock in it.”

  I glanced at Diana to see how she was reacting. She rolled her eyes again but didn’t seem too upset. I grabbed a handhold on the heavy, yellow, five-man raft and helped tote it down to the river’s edge. Wild Wes led the way.

  Sunlight went dancing across choppy waves in the river, and the water rushing by was as muddy as could be.

  “It’s not too cold,” Diana said, standing up and flicking water from her fingertips.

  I nodded and swallowed. I couldn’t say a thing. I thought I would be all right until I’d gotten down here and actually seen the water.

  “A little rafting lesson,” Wild Wes said. His voice and face turned real serious. “All kidding aside, I’ve been going down the Big Pigeon twice a day about a hundred days a year for the past six years, which means I’ve been down this river more ‘n a thousand times. I know every twist ‘n turn, and I’ve ridden this river in every possible condition. The river’s runnin’ low this summer, which means you’ve got to be extra careful about rocks in the rapids. During this trip we’ll hit two class four rapids. It’s extremely important to pay attention and do what I say when I say it, no questions asked. You can’t say, ‘Why,’ or ‘In a minute.’” Wild Wes raised his eyebrows and looked at all of us. “Got it?”

  We all nodded.

  “If you follow my instructions you’ll make it fine.”

  I tried to swallow again but my throat was so dry the spit got stuck. I reminded myself that after all Daddy’s kidding around, he and Lynn had ended up picking the warm, safe Big Pigeon River over the cold and dangerous Nantahala.

  Wild Wes explained that he would be sitting in the rear of the raft. Daddy and Lynn would sit toward the back, and Diana and I would sit up front. Wes showed us how to sit on the inflated cross-seats and wedge our feet under the curved inside wall of the raft. He explained that his command “Paddle forward” meant everyone should take long, steady strokes with our oars. “Paddle back” meant everyone should paddle backward, pushing our oars deep into the water. “Right back” meant those on the right side of the raft should paddle backward while those on the left paddled forward. “Left back” meant those on the left paddled backward, and those on the right paddled forward.

  “If somebody falls out of the raft,” Wes said, “do not jump in after them. Reach out to them with a paddle, or I’ll throw them a rope. And if you fall out, the number one rule, the most important thing,” he said with conviction, “is never stand up in the river. That’s how people drown when they’re white watering—they fall out of the raft and try to stand up and get their feet caught in the rocks. If you wipe out, float on your back facing down river with your feet up. Do not stand up in the river! Got that? Questions?”

  “Have you ever wiped out?” Daddy asked.

  “At least twice a week.” Wild Wes grinned and made a terrified face.

  “How reassuring,” Daddy said. He squeezed my shoulder.

  “All aboard!”

  My knees shook a little as I climbed into the raft, and I nearly stumbled, but I kept on going. There was water in the bottom of the raft and my tennis shoes got soaking wet. It squeaked when I sat down. I wanted to lean back against Daddy so I could feel the solid warmth of his life vest behind me, but I was still mad at him, so I just sat very straight. Diana and Lynn, on the other side of the raft, looked happy in a sort of breathless way. Lynn reached forward and brushed Diana’s hair from her face. Diana was scanning the shoreline around us. She didn’t seem like she was listening to Wild Wes’s instructions.

  “Try not to drop your oar,” Wild Wes said as he settled himself on the back end of the raft. “Because then we have to go back and get it, which is a pain in the you-know-what. But if you do, it floats. Don’t panic. Here’s how you hold it.” He showed how to clasp the T-handle of the oar with one hand and place the other midway down for most efficient rowing. “See this above my eye?” He pointed at a white, shiny scar on his forehead. “Projectile oar injury, the most common in rafting. Keeping your hand over the T-handle will save your fellow rafters from such a fate. When you’re not rowing, lay the oar across your lap like this.” He demonstrated.

  I wedged my foot under the curve of the raft edge and placed the oar across my lap the way Wild Wes said. I took a deep, shaky breath and watched a dead branch bob by, yanked to and fro by the current. I said a little prayer to myself. Dear God, please help me to be brave.

  “Okay, everybody ready?”

  “Ready!” said Lynn and Diana.

  Daddy and I didn’t say anything.

  Wild Wes laughed. “Hey, am I sensing more enthusiasm on one side of the raft than the other?”

  “That is purely your imagination,” Daddy said. “I’m pumped, aren’t you, Steph?”

  I glanced around.

  “Come on, Stephanie,” Lynn said. “This is going to be so much fun.” She reached over and squeezed my knee.

  “Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Diana said, giving me a nod.

  That in itself made me feel better. “I’m ready.”

  “All right!” shouted Wild Wes. With a loud yodel, he shoved off from the riverbank, and our raft surged into the current. “All paddle!”

  My heart beat double-time as I lowered my oar into the water and smacked right into Daddy’s.

  “Whoa! Wait, let’s get our timing right,” Daddy said. “Stroke, stroke,
stroke.”

  The raft jerked as a group of high school boys in Jesse’s raft careened into us on purpose, laughing and spraying us with water. I screamed my lungs out. My T-shirt got soaked.

  “Hey, watch it, wise guys!” Wild Wes shoved the other raft away with his oar. “Paddle forward, get them out in the middle; let’s lose these juvies,” he shouted.

  I paddled, and then Daddy started chanting “Stroke, stroke, stroke,” which started to get on my nerves in about ten seconds.

  “Good job. Stop.”

  I put my oar on my lap. The high school boys were ahead of us, trying to spray someone else. The raft went faster now that we were in the middle of the river. Rocks and trees slid by on the shore. Weeping willows and other river trees draped branches and tangled roots over the edge. Then we left them behind. The sunlight bouncing off the water and the rushing sound of the current made my brain buzz. Some of my fear leaked away.

  “Hey, Steph, you’re doing great!” Lynn said.

  “Yeah, nice work, Steph,” Daddy said. “You’re doing a good job.”

  I glanced back and smiled at Diana, who was giving me the thumbs-up sign. I didn’t know whether it was God who had given me the courage or not, but I had been brave.

  17

  DIANA

  “Paddle forward!” Wild Wes shouted. “Class four rapids coming up! This is called Thunder Road! Stay right of the rock!”

  The white water roared louder, and a rock the size of a bear was ahead of us, black and wet, right in the middle of the river. Just beyond bear rock churned the white froth of the rapids. I leaned into my oar and paddled with all my might. The raft skimmed across the water, heading right for the rock.

  “Paddle back! Give it all you’ve got!” shouted Wild Wes. “Faster!”

  I dug my oar into the water and pushed backward hard and fast. I could hear Mom behind me, out of breath, matching me stroke for stroke.