“Oh well,” he sighed. “I guess there’s business to deal with anyway. Lobo and the pack are on their way.”
He was right. There was serious business at hand, and that was my utmost priority. I looked up the trail. I could no longer hear Ginny barking, but there seemed to be some sense of movement or activity in the woods just beyond my field of vision.
It can be difficult sometimes to get a perfect grasp of your surroundings in the woods. Trees can cast strange shadows, and sunlight reflecting on snow can be quite dazzling to the eyes. But your senses can be further hampered if, for instance, you happen to be standing beside a hulking bull moose. Not only did Stomper make for a very poor window, his nearness also made it difficult for me to hear anything over the deep sound of his massive lungs steadily inhaling and exhaling. And that’s on top of the gurgling, digestive sounds constantly emanating from his stomach, which was very close to my ears. So, I took a few short steps away, moving deeper into the woods. I kept my hand on Stomper’s rear leg so that he would be well aware of my location.
At first I could see only birds flittering about—chickadees, nuthatches, grosbeaks, jays, crows. But after a few seconds, down low between the tree trunks, I caught sight of larger movements, which were in fact all sorts of differently shaped and sized animals. All of their differing shapes and colors seemed to rise and fall like the choppy waves of the ocean as they trotted along. I soon recognized Ginny trotting proudly at the head of this large procession. Behind her I began to discern the wolves, deer, the dark mass which could only be Berrybottom bear, and all sorts of other smaller animals.
“Hmm,” groaned Stomper, sensing their approach. “It seems everyone is on their way here. We will soon be crowded in this narrow trail. I myself am well off out of harm’s way, but you, Ethan, my small friend, may be safer in the open space, so as not to be trampled in all this excitement.”
Good idea, I said, and the three of us made our way out of the woods, down the hill and toward the house.
“Oh, look!” exclaimed Prowler as we neared the house. “I’ve spotted some little pumpkins!”
“Hmm?” groaned Stomper, turning his head to see. “Pumpkins?”
No, no, I said, trying to catch up. Don’t take those. Those are my mother’s fall decorations!
Prowler paid me no mind. He made a beeline for the row of pumpkins lining the walkway to the kitchen door. Some were fake, but some were real pumpkins, made soft and mushy now by the cold weather. He quickly identified one of the real pumpkins and began clawing and chewing away at it.
No, don’t! I kept saying as I ran to catch up. But it was like talking to a wall.
Now Stomper found himself a pumpkin. Kicking the plastic ones aside, sending them clattering away, he broke open a mushy pumpkin with his hoof, and in a few big chomps he made mincemeat of the frostbitten squash. Chunks of orange debris and seeds went everywhere, sticking to the walkway as well as Stomper’s nose and mouth.
“Mmm, try one, Ethan,” said the moose. “They are very soft and sweet. M-hmm. One hardly needs to chew.”
“Yes, truly,” agreed Prowler between bites. “They’re very good, Ethan. I suggest you claim one while you can. They won’t last long at this rate. Haw-haw.”
Now I turned back to face the trailhead at the edge of the yard. As Stomper and Prowler snacked, the woods seemed to be emptying out into our back yard. Birds were swirling overhead, all seeking places to perch. Ginny came straight for me, her expression bright with excitement, while the wolf pack fanned out around her. Deer and fox and raccoons and squirrels and chipmunks and everyone else spilled into the yard behind them. A tall, lanky cow moose, who I had not met the previous night, now appeared. And finally, at the tail end of the procession, Berrybottom bear lumbered out into the brightness of day, the morning sun shining on his glossy black coat. He was worn out from all the running, and promptly sat down on the hillside to catch his breath.
“Good morning, it is,” said Stomper, turning slowly to face the crowd. Bits of crushed pumpkin were now mashed all around his mouth and nose. “Hmm, it is good to see you all.”
“What has he done?” Ginny asked me as she came near.
He’s eating Mom’s pumpkins.
“Wonderful,” Ginny sighed. “I leave the yard for five minutes, and they turn it into a buffet.”
I couldn’t stop him, I told her. I then looked over at Stomper again, and I was just in time to see him catch wind of the cow moose.
Stomper stopped chewing the moment he noticed her. His very long face somehow became longer, his mouth dropped open and hung slack, and his big nostrils began sniffing and blowing loudly. Bits of pumpkin fell from his open mouth. He stared at her dumbstruck, as if he’d seen an angel and was momentarily stunned by her radiance.
“Hmm-hoom,” he groaned after a moment of intense admiration, “what have we here?” And then, stretching his neck out straight, he began to roll his head from side to side to draw attention to his antlers. He did this as a way of putting himself on full display for the female moose to enjoy.
“Uh-oh,” said Prowler, finishing his own pumpkin. “It looks like he’s spotted Eileen the cow. Haw-haw. I suppose now he’ll spend the rest of the morning flexing his muscles and showing off his rack. Good grief!”
A moose called Eileen? I asked.
“Ha! That’s right,” Prowler said. “Get it? ‘I lean.’ She’s tall and gawky and looks sort of clumsy. She leans! Haw-haw-haw-haw.”
“Hmm-hoom,” Stomper groaned very deeply, strutting proudly toward the cow, taking slow, deliberate steps, making sure to flex all of his mighty muscles. “Well, well, Eileen, you look very well this fine morning, I must say. You were missed at last night’s meeting. M-hmm.”
“Mmm,” she replied bashfully in a slightly less booming voice. “I meant to be there, I did. But on the way I was distracted by some lovely apples left over at the orchard.”
“Apples,” said Stomper. “Ah, beauty and good taste, you have. M-hmm. Perhaps when this meeting is over, we two may search for apples together. Hmm?”
I’m not exactly sure what Eileen said to that proposal, because I lost track of their conversation at that point. Lobo had stepped up beside Ginny and addressed me, drawing my full attention.
“Ginny tells me you have tried your very best this morning,” he said as I faced him. “Your efforts are greatly appreciated, Ethan. Nothing more could be asked or expected of you.”
I nodded and thanked him. As I stood there, I could feel all the animals watching us, listening to us, waiting for something to happen.
“You know your father well,” he resumed. “Now that we are all gathered, how may we get him from the house to speak with us?”
He should be out anytime now, I said. Ginny and I ran outside, so I’m sure he’ll be out any minute to find me.
“And when will your uncle arrive?” Lobo asked next.
I’m not sure, I answered. It could be soon, if he’s anxious to get my parents to commit to his plan. You see, today is a day for families to get together and be thankful. If that was all that was planned, he wouldn’t be in any hurry to get here. But with all his—
At that moment I was distracted by the motion of Lobo’s intense eyes. He and Ginny, and everyone else in my field of vision, had suddenly taken notice of something behind me. Spinning round toward the house, I saw the kitchen door opening. Dad came out first with Mom right at his heels. They had closed the door and started down the steps before even looking up at their surroundings. When they did finally look up, as you can guess, they quickly realized that all was not as usual in the back yard.
Every pair of eyes, save those of the two moose, were now fixed on my parents. Just a few strides from the stairs, Dad froze in his tracks, skidding to a stop in the snow. Mom couldn’t stop in time. She was wearing slippers with smooth soles, and subsequently crashed right into Dad as she tried to stop. And there they both stood, glancing round with open mouths and very big eyes.
“Dad,” I said out loud. I waved my arm just to make sure he could see me among all the animals. “Dad! Mom!”
Up until the time I spoke up, neither of my parents seemed capable of saying anything clearly. They had mumbled and muttered and made some strange sounds, but that was all. When I spoke up, however, Mom’s eyes connected with mine, and she began repeating my name in a tone that could only be described as shaking with freight and disbelief. Then Dad spoke up.
“Ethan, step away,” he said firmly. “Get over here! Now!”
I started to walk towards them, but just as I did, Lobo also began to move toward them, with several other wolves falling in around his flanks. Ginny moved in front of me and blocked me.
Hold on, she said. You’ve already done your part. Let Lobo handle this now.
***
“Russell Dewfield,” Lobo said in a loud, firm voice. “Listen beyond your ears,” he commanded. “Open your mind. Wake from your slumber. Hear my true voice.”
My father shook his head suddenly. He must have heard Lobo, because it was like he was trying to expel the powerful voice of the wolf from his mind by shaking his head. He lowered himself into a defensive stance before my mother, and holding out one arm before him, he said, “You stay away from me.”
“I will not,” replied Lobo, striding coolly, confidently toward my father. I could only imagine the intensity of his stare as he neared him. “Do you hear me, Russell Dewfield?” he roared louder. “I will not!”
My father continued to try to avoid the wolf, to warn him away. And the wolf continued to press him with his encroaching presence, his powerful glare, and his strong voice.
“Calm yourself,” Lobo said. “If I wished you harm, I could have easily pounced upon you this morning as you followed Ethan’s tracks, blissfully unaware of my watchful presence. I wish to speak with you, not harm you.”
“He—he,” stuttered my father. “He’s talking to me, Ellie. The wolf is talking to me.”
Mom instantly staggered back, lost her balance, and ended up sitting on the steps. She didn’t know who to trust at that point. “What?” she gasped in disbelief.
“The wolf” he answered her. “I can hear him.”
“Then hear me well,” growled Lobo, now standing mere feet before my bewildered father. “Your home is at risk. Your son is at risk. Hear me and take heed, before it is too late.”
My father kept shaking his head, trying to avoid Lobo’s powerful voice. He clapped his hands over his ears, and still the wolf persisted, moving on steadily, staring him down, demanding his attention, until finally Dad also stumbled and fell back against the stairs. He half landed on poor Mom.
Standing off to the side watching all this, even though Ginny had instructed me to stay put, I suddenly felt like I couldn’t hold back anymore. I couldn’t just stand there like a passive spectator. I couldn’t keep my thoughts to myself.
In a second I had made a decision and started to act. I rushed past Ginny, past the wolves, and flung myself onto my parents like a football player diving into the end zone. Instantly we became a family in a heap on our steps—one being closed in by every animal that resided in that area.
After my diving football move, everything seemed to spin and turn over upside down. Then I felt my father setting me up straight between him and Mom. But instead of settling down between them, I worked my way to my feet, got right in my father’s face, and began the most intense effort of my young life to get through to him. Some words I said aloud, some I said silently. I didn’t hesitate or think, I just spoke as much as I could, as quickly as I could, as boldly as I could, with all my heart.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of struggle, something about my father’s expression suddenly changed. Then, at long last, I heard him respond silently to me. He said only, yes, to begin with. I hear you. And instantly a surge of energy rushed through me.
You hear me? In your head? I asked.
Yes, he answered silently. I don’t know how, but I can hear you now.
Then Listen to Lobo, I said for about the twentieth time. He’s here to help. Please! Listen to him!
Poor Mom was left alone in the dark at that point, but Dad needed to understand everything clearly before he could even begin to explain things to her.
***
“Do you hear me beyond growls and snarls?” asked the wolf.
“I do,” my father answered. He sat calmly now. Rather than trying to escape from Lobo, he looked him squarely in the eye, and even leaned towards him slightly, like when two people are having a very serious conversation.
“Then you are awake once more,” the wolf said. He turned back briefly toward the gathering of watching animals and in a loud voice proclaimed, “The lapsed Earthkeeper has recalled his old ways. Be glad, all of you, for he is now fully awake!”
“Hooray!” said many voices at once. Their voices came together in a muddle of loud grunts and growls, squeaks, nays and chirps. Of course Mom could only hear part of it all. She had heard Dad say, “I do.” Then she’d seen the wolf face the others and make a loud wolfish sound. Then followed the eruption of celebration from the congregation of animals, which was far more alarming to Mom than it was joyous.
Next Lobo called Ginny forward. She sat down before us at the foot of the steps.
“Take a moment to be reacquainted with an old friend,” Lobo said to my father. “Then offer her your thanks. She has been of great help.”
Dad looked briefly over at me, smiled, and then faced Ginny.
“Good morning, Russ,” she said to him.
“Good morning,” he said in a shaky voice. “I am thankful to you, girl, but more so I’m very, very sorry.”
Ginny nodded her head very slightly, graciously. Then she proceeded to ask him if he remembered the last time they had spoken.
“I do now,” he answered. “Everything is rushing back to me. It was the day my friend passed away. You pleaded with me for help, and I brought you home and introduced you to Ethan.”
“Yes,” she said. “That was the day you made me part of this family. For that I am still thankful to you.”
Dad leaned forward and gave Ginny a big ole bear hug. I looked up at Mom. She seemed about as lost as someone could be. I touched her arm, smiled when she looked down at me, and told her softly that it was okay.
“Now,” said Lobo as he made eye contact with my father. “We have issues that must be soon addressed.”
“You’re behind all this,” Dad said to him as he released his hug on Ginny. “I remember you now. It was so long ago, I’d put you out of my mind. But I remember you now very clearly.”
Lobo shook his head. “It is my proud father that you remember,” he told him. “Not I.”
“I don’t know how to explain it,” Dad said, partly to himself, partly to the rest of us. “I don’t know how I could have forgotten this strange ability. It’s like … I got so busy, so lost in my responsibilities … I just lost touch.”
“How you lost your way is not now our greatest concern,” Lobo said. “Our first order of business was to rouse you from your sleep. That has now been accomplished. The second order, however, may prove more challenging.”
Uncle Chucky, I said silently.
My father shot me a quick glance, then he stared hard at the wolf as the memory of his brother’s plan to sell our home came rushing back to him.
Chapter 11
“My brother,” Dad said hesitantly, “is more of a problem than you may know.”
“Yes,” agreed Lobo.
“He’s five years older than me,” Dad explained. “We grew up here in the same house, but we turned out as different as night from day. He was always ambitious and tried to act older than he really was, even as far back as when he was ten or twelve. So on the one hand I had my father’s influence on me—which was to take life more easily and enjoy the nature around me. And on the other hand I had my brother’s completely opposite influence.”
“We are
all susceptible to the influences of our peers,” said Lobo. “From them we often learn good lessons as well as poor ones.”
“But I can’t blame everything on Chuck,” Dad said. “There were times—when I was not much older than Ethan is now—when my brother was very hard on me for acting—as he saw it—too childish. I didn’t necessarily enjoy his view of life, but as I grew older I found myself somehow becoming more like him, even though I really didn’t want to. It was he that finally convinced me that my fascination with animals was silly and childish. I remember that clearly now. Yet I take the blame for setting aside that part of my life.”
Dad turned to Mom and smiled. “And then I met Ellie, and life became busier. Then my father passed on, leaving behind this great big place. Chuck wanted nothing to do with it, even though it is our childhood home. So I took on the full burden and full expenses, and life became busier still.”
“Who,” Mom stuttered, her eyes still very wide. “Who are you talking to, Russ?”
“Everyone,” he said with a grin.
“Oh,” she replied. “Of course. Silly me! Everyone gives speeches to large gatherings of wild animals.”
“It’s just like Ethan’s letter said,” he tried to tell her.
“Really? And do you realize there’s a huge bear over there?” she hissed under her breath. “And the two moose are eating my fall decorations!”
I looked over and saw Stomper and Eileen chomping away at the cornstalks that were wrapped along the fence which separated the grass from the parking area. They had rooted through the browned stalks and liberated the whole ears of corn within. Now they were munching the corn cobs cheerfully and loudly, even though they couldn’t have tasted too well, considering they had been frostbitten for two months.
“What did you say his name was?” Dad asked me, looking also at the moose.
Stomper, I answered. And the cow is Eileen.
“You weren’t kidding about him,” Dad said. “He’s a whopper. I’ve never seen anything like him.”
The Earthkeepers Page 12
