Harvey Comes Home

by Colleen Nelson

  “I waited till I was up in the loft to let my tears fall. They came all of a sudden in a flood, and I didn’t try to stop them. I kept thinking about that day we walked back from town, when Bertie had told me I was the best friend she’d ever had.

  “I’d let her down, leaving her alone in the shack. My selfishness, or my stupidity, turned me blind to how much she needed me. She could have died. I burrowed my face into General’s fur. He lay beside me as all the shame and regret spilled out of me.”

  Chapter 25

  Austin

  When Mr. Pickering was done, I cleared my throat, but my words still came out thick. “That’s so sad.” The old man moved a hand to his chest and winced. Harvey hadn’t moved from his spot, but he raised his head and looked at Mr. Pickering.

  “Could you get me a glass of water?” Mr. Pickering asked, his voice hoarse.

  “Sure,” I said, but by the time I came back with a glass, Mr. Pickering was snoring lightly, his mouth hanging open.

  I wished he hadn’t fallen asleep. I wanted to know what happened next. Was Bertie okay? Did she stay with them? I put the glass on the table in case he wanted it when he woke up. I patted my thigh, a signal to Harvey that we should leave.

  As soon as Harvey stood up, Mr. Pickering was startled awake. “General!” he gasped.

  “No, Mr. Pickering. It’s me and Harvey.” I put my hand on his shoulder to settle him.

  He looked at me, confused. “Where’s Bertie?”

  “She’s at the farm,” I said gently. “Remember? You rescued her.” It seemed like the kindest thing to say.

  He rubbed his forehead. “Oh yes. And then she moved in with us.”

  “You looked after her.”

  “I would have done anything for her,” he said.

  I passed him the water. He took a few sips and then passed it back to me, so I could put it on the table. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

  “I’ll let you rest.” I turned to the door.

  “No,” he said. “Stay. I like the company.”

  Maybe I should have gone; he was old and looked worn out from all the talking. But I still hadn’t found out how General lost his leg. “You sure you’re not too tired?”

  “Sit,” he said, and waved at the couch. So I did, and Harvey joined me for a change.

  “Bertie got her strength back slowly. She stayed with us through the winter. Ma couldn’t let her go back to the shack on her own. Bertie was in no condition to go anyway. She wore what clothes we had left of Amy’s.

  “While Bertie got stronger eating Ma’s food, she helped look after Sylvia. I think Bertie would have rather gone hunting in the bush or ice fishing with me and the twins. But she was indebted to Ma and knew she was needed in the house. The role didn’t fit her well. I heard her tell Sylvia about outrunning wild dogs and battling black bears—stories that would have made Ma’s jaw drop.

  “It was late February, and bit by bit the days were getting longer. The spring thaw was just around the corner and the mood on the farm was relaxing. We’d almost made it through another winter.

  “‘Where’re you off to?’ Bertie asked me as I dumped my plate in the washtub after our midday dinner. I saw the wistful look on her face and knew that she’d rather be tramping around in the forest than stuck in the house with Ma and Sylvia.

  “The shotgun hung on its hook by the door, and I nodded in its direction. ‘Going to see if I can catch that fox that’s been poking around.’ The last thing we needed was a fox stealing Ma’s baby chicks when they were born in the spring. Besides, a fox sniffing around made the cows nervous. Keeping both cows happy was our prime goal. We’d had milk all winter and Ma had made a deal with a neighbor to breed one of them in the spring.

  “I was old enough now to realize how much work Ma had to do with Pa gone so much. I wondered if she didn’t ever get mad at him for saddling her with the farm while he went into the bush. It was probably hard work keeping the books for the lumber company—and keeping the rough men who worked there happy—but it meant an escape from the chores and drudgery of feeding and caring for all of us.

  “‘You want to come?’ I asked Bertie. Her face lit up. The sun was high and sharp in the blue sky. I’d gotten used to being on my own and, truth be told, kind of liked it.

  “You know,” Mr. Pickering paused, considering something, “I probably took after Pa that way. I could see how being in the bush all winter appealed to him. Being left alone with my thoughts was a luxury.

  “Well, I guess Ma saw the look on Bertie’s face. ‘Just go,’ she muttered from the stove where she was cooking stew from the rabbits I’d snared a couple of days before. Bertie had skinned the rabbits and we left the meat to hang in the barn, where it froze solid. There were still onions and carrots stored in the cellar, and Ma added those too, along with some chicken broth and salt and canned tomatoes.

  “Bertie didn’t wait to be told twice. We put on a couple layers of woolen long underwear and then our leather boots—mine were hand-me-downs from Pa, and Bertie shared hers with Ma. We pulled on hand-knit hats and mitts, and tied scarves tight around our faces. By the time we were done getting ready, only a sliver of space for our eyes was left. I grabbed the gun and slung it over my shoulder. I liked how it felt smacking against my legs as I walked into the cold.

  “General came bounding after us, and I tossed him half a biscuit I’d saved from dinner. He ran after it, snuffling in the snow crystals to dig it up.

  “‘Should be starting to melt soon,’ Bertie said. The sun was warm and I pulled the scarf down to my chin. Each step we took cracked through the icy top layer of snow. “You mind if we head over that way?” Bertie pointed toward where her shack was.

  “I didn’t say anything, but I was surprised. I thought she’d want to avoid that place. There was nothing there but bad memories.

  “‘I should check on it. Make sure it’s still standing. Empty.’

  “It was her last word that made me pause. ‘If he’d come back, he would’ve been by looking for you.’

  “Her eyes went cold. I knew as well as she did that most farm dogs were treated with more care than she got from her pa.

  “‘If you’re wondering where he is,’ I continued, ‘we could ask Officer Reginald to find out. He could send word to another detachment.” Officer Reginald, or Reggie, as we called him, was the officer stationed in Weyburn. He came out to check on us, especially Ma, during the winter. He was from down East and was continually surprised by the bitter cold and how Ma was able to run the farm while Pa was in the bush.

  “‘I did ask him.’

  “Her news caught me off guard. ‘You never said.What’d you find out?’

  “She hesitated so long, I thought maybe she wasn’t going to tell me. Her face had that haunted look I saw so often. ‘He spent last winter on the trap lines, then he went down to Prince Albert. Spent a bit of time in jail during the summer and couldn’t find anything else after that.’

  “‘Maybe he got a job.’

  “Bertie snorted. ‘What kind of a job? Everyone’s looking for work. I don’t think they’d pick a drunk like him over a man with a family, do you?’

  “‘S’pose not,’ I muttered.

  “‘I don’t know what’s worse. That he is dead, or that he isn’t and just doesn’t care a lick about me.’

  “I couldn’t stand to let Bertie think that way, so I lied. ‘You know how times are, Bert. He might be trying to get back to you, but with no money and the winter…’ I let my voice drift off. ‘Anyhow, you’re safe with us. Ma likes having you around.’

  “‘What about when your pa comes back? He won’t want another mouth to feed, ’specially if this summer is anything like the last one.’

  “I didn’t want to admit it, but she was right. ‘Don’t worry about that stuff right now,’ I told her, and started moving ahead through t
he snow. It was a chicken’s way to answer, brushing the problem aside like it didn’t matter. The thing was, our lives were in a constant state of wondering about the future; trying to predict what was coming had become a full-time hobby for all of us.

  “As we moved through the bush, I kept an eye out for tracks and movement in the bushes. In my mind, I’d already made a hat out of the fox pelt. I wanted Herbie Caldwell to drool over the bushy tail hanging down my back when I showed up to school with it. Or better yet, I could sell it to Mr. Friedman and buy us a new radio. The one we had was always cutting out with static in the evening.

  “The dog raced ahead of us. He needed to stay by my side or I’d have no luck catching anything. ‘General!’ I called. Instead of seeing him come bounding back, we heard a high-pitched yelp and a howl of pain.

  “‘General?’ I shouted again. Bertie was already running toward the sound, her too-large boots clomping through the icy snow. I caught up to her quickly and forged ahead.

  “General was lying on the ground, his legs twisted behind him. He was licking his front paw. Before I got any closer, I could see what had happened. The jaw of a leg-hold trap was clamped around his right front leg.”

  “Bertie stopped beside me. ‘What do we do?’ she cried.

  “‘Hey, General,’ I said softly. I didn’t want him to move and make the trap spring tighter on his leg. ‘Hey, there, boy. We’re here.’ General lifted his head and whined. I passed the shotgun to Bertie and walked in a wide circle so he’d be able to see me approach. General went back to licking his leg, but I could see blood seeping into the snow around him. The trap’s teeth had sunk deep into his flesh, probably all the way to the bone.

  “Bertie hung the gun up on a tree branch and followed in my tracks. ‘What do we do?’ she asked again.

  “I moved closer to General and lifted his head away from his leg. I needed to see how bad the damage was. If we got the trap off, would he be able to walk? General looked at me with sorrowful eyes. His whine had changed to a whimper of pain. His fur was matted with blood. Sure enough, the teeth of the trap had pierced through to the bone—I could see the white of it exposed and sticking out at an odd angle.

  “‘Leg’s broken.’ I couldn’t look at General, knowing how bad it must be hurting. For his sake, I hoped the shock would set in quick.

  “Bertie tore off her hat and crouched beside me. ‘We have to get him free.’

  “‘Bertie,’ I started. She knew as well as I did that on a farm, a dog with a broken leg was usually put down. It was easier to get another one than to heal an injured animal. Plus, the trap was an old one, covered in rust.

  “I stood staring at General’s leg and the way the trap’s serrated teeth had bit clear to the bone. I knew I couldn’t leave him there. It was up to me to help him, but I didn’t know what to do. I wished my pa were here.

  “‘Walt!’ Bertie slapped my arm. Her eyes were blazing. ‘Do something!’

  “‘Hold his head,’ I said to Bertie. She moved closer to him and put a hand on his head. She stroked him behind the ears, the way he liked. He whimpered, as if pleading with us to help him. Bertie wrapped both arms around his neck and held him tight. I stood up and put my feet on the release mechanism on either side of the clamp. But my weight wasn’t enough. The rusty metal levers wouldn’t budge. I wrestled with them until my fingers were numb and bleeding, coated with rust.

  “I stood up and weighed our options. The trap was chained to a tree, so we weren’t going to be able to carry him home with the trap still on his leg. Our only choice made my stomach turn. Bertie held on to General, her hand buried in his thick winter coat.

  “‘I’m gonna have to go home and get an ax,’ I said.

  She looked at me and shook her head. ‘Try again to free him,’ she commanded, the old fierceness returning.

  “‘I’ve tried! It’s not letting go!” The stain of blood was spreading through the snow.

  “‘Try harder!’ She stood up and we both stamped on the side of the trap. All it did was make the jaws twist into General’s leg. He panted with pain.

  “‘Bertie!’ I yelled, and pushed her so hard she fell back into the snow. ‘It’s no good. The only way is to get the ax.’

  “She squeezed her eyes shut, as if it were a nightmare she could wake up from. ‘Stay here with him,’ I said. ‘I’ll be back soon as I can.’

  “‘He’s hurting so bad, Walt! We can’t let him suffer.’ I knew she couldn’t stand to see him like this. Her eyes darted around the forest, twitchy and uncontrolled.

  “‘Bertie!’ I spoke harshly and put the gun next to her. ‘Stay with him. I’ll be back soon as I can.’

  “A crow flew over, cawing, and perched on a tree nearby. ‘Damn bird,’ I mumbled. Bertie trained her eyes on it.

  “‘It can smell the blood,’ she whispered.

  “‘General’s not gonna die. Not like this.’ I had to get back to the farm quick. Every minute I waited, he’d lose more blood. His body was limp with pain. He didn’t even turn his head to watch me go. Just as well. If he didn’t make it till I got back, I didn’t want the last thing he saw to be me leaving him.

  “I ran through the snow as fast as I could, high-stepping it to break through the crust. I didn’t want to think about what I had to do. The ax was resting against the woodpile beside the house. I grabbed it and found a sled for General. There were rags in the horse barn and I took some of them too. I piled everything onto the sled and took off back toward the forest.

  “‘Where you going?’ Nigel called. He and Millard had been working on a snow fort all afternoon. I’d been hoping they wouldn’t see me. I wasn’t in the mood for their antics and I didn’t want them telling Ma what had happened.

  “I didn’t trust myself to talk, so I ignored them, which only heightened their curiosity. They abandoned the fort and ran after me, crashing through the snow like two oxen.

  “‘Chopping firewood?’ Nigel asked, catching sight of the ax. ‘We still got lots. Anyhow, that’s supposed to be my job now.’

  “‘You find a fishing spot?’ Millard asked.

  “‘He’s got no rods, dumb-dumb.’

  “Lugging the sled behind me was going to make the trek back to General twice as long. I worried about him trying to gnaw at his leg to get free. I worried that Bertie wouldn’t be able to stay calm and comfort him.

  “I decided to tell them. ‘General’s got his leg caught in a trap.’

  “The boys slowed for a second, and then picked up the pace to match mine. They didn’t say anything, but Nigel took the rope out of my hands and started to pull the sled. ‘How far in is he?’

  “‘Close to Bertie’s shack.’

  “Our breath came out in puffs of steam as we made our way into the forest. We couldn’t walk three across, so I led and the twins followed behind.

  “Then, from farther in, I heard a growl—and then the crack of the shotgun.

  “My heart leapt to my throat. We picked up the pace, scrambling as fast as we could through the snow. ‘Bertie!’ I shouted.

  “Bertie spun around at the sound of our approach. In her hands was the gun. At her feet lay General.

  “A hundred emotions flooded me at once. What had I been thinking, leaving her with the gun? I stared at General. Had she shot him?

  “I held up my hand to stop the boys. ‘Bertie?’ My voice cracked, the exertion and fear making it tremble. ‘We heard a gunshot.’

  “Bertie dropped the barrel of the gun into the snow. She looked too weak to hold it up anymore. General lay still, not even stirring at the sound of my voice.

  “‘The dogs,’ her voice cracked. ‘Two of them came right up to that tree.’ She pointed to a tree not six feet from her. ‘They were hunting.’ General raised his head then and whimpered. The way he flopped back down, I could tell he was exhausted. The twins flanked me, watching
Bertie carefully. They hadn’t forgotten what she’d done to Herbie, and now that she’d grown stronger, some of their wariness had returned.

  “‘Is that why you fired?’ I said.

  “‘I had to scare them away.’ She came toward me and handed back the gun. A flush of shame rose up my neck. I didn’t want to admit what I’d thought she’d done. I passed the gun to Millard and threw him a warning look not to be stupid with it. Nigel and I bent down to get a closer look at General’s leg.

  “Nigel’s eyes strayed from the steel-jaw trap to the chain locked around the tree. I saw the pieces click together in his head. ‘That’s why you needed the ax,’ he said quietly.

  “‘Yeah. No other way to get him free now.’

  “Bertie’s breath came in gulps. ‘You could chop down the tree.’

  “I swallowed. ‘The tree’s too big, Bert. Only way General’s getting free is if I—’ The words stuck in my throat. ‘There’s no other way.’

  “Bertie’s face contorted. She ran to the sled and grabbed the ax. ‘No! You can’t! You can’t do that to him!’

  “‘He’s been stuck in that thing for two hours already. He doesn’t have much time left. We need to get him out right now. It’ll be dark soon.You think I want to do this?’ I fought back the tears choking me. ‘Give me the ax.’

  “‘No!’ She clutched it against her chest. I felt Nigel and Millard shift toward me, ready to back me up if need be.

  “‘Give it to him,’ Millard said.

  “Bertie looked at us, her eyes wild. She turned the blade of the ax in our direction. For a second—a split-second that felt like forever—I thought she was gonna take a swing at me.

  “‘There’s no other way,’ I said quietly. ‘I’ll do it quick, I promise. And then we’ll take him home and bandage him up.’

  “Bertie’s breath came out in fast bursts.

  “‘You can go home, get a bed ready for him. The boys and I will bring him to you.’