Girlwood (15 page)

Olivia and Bridget edged closer to the wolf, but when Polly tried to move forward, her mother grabbed her arm.

"Oh no," her mom said. "You're not going anywhere near that thing."

Polly wrenched her arm free. "I want to help Baba."

"No," her mother said. "This isn't your decision."

But Polly thought that it was. In Girlwood, things weren't necessarily easier, but it was always clear what had to be done. Polly crossed the grove to take her place beside her grandmother—the one spot that had always comforted her, but that now, as her mother began to cry, felt like a million miles from home.

A cross between algae and fungi, many lichens are edible and grow like hair on the bark or limbs of trees. Usnea lichen can save your life, working as well as or better than penicillin to inhibit bacterial and fungal infections and stimulate the immune system. Used as a compress, it will stop bleeding and prevent infection.

Polly's mom ran after her but drew back when the wolf snarled.

"Please step away from it, Polly," she pleaded.

But Polly had made her choice. Maybe she couldn't save everything, but that didn't mean she shouldn't try. "Why won't you ever believe things will turn out okay?" she said.

Her mom's gaze went past her in horror as Olivia crouched beside the wolf. The animal began to whimper, raising goose
flesh on Polly's arms. She didn't care what anybody said: from that moment on, the female was Olivia's wolf, and Olivia was the wolf's girl.

Mandy ran back, carrying her tennis shoes. Water sloshed over the rims.

"I didn't have to go all the way to the stream," she said. "There's a spring about fifty yards in."

"All right," Officer Wendt said, squaring his shoulders. "We're done here. I'm taking you all home."

"No!" the girls cried in unison.

He ignored them and tried his radio, and then his cell phone. As he struggled to get reception, Baba thanked Mandy for the water and poured it over the wolf's wound. The animal thrashed her legs, but with Olivia there, she didn't attempt a getaway. Baba glanced at Olivia's torn jeans, but Olivia shook her head.

"It doesn't hurt much," she said. "We've got to save her."

"We're not saving anything," Polly's mom interrupted. "We're taking you home so your parents can have some peace."

Her voice was so unyielding, even Bree might not have argued. The wolf was getting sleepy, her eyelids beginning to flutter.

"Valerian and willow bark," Baba said, smiling. "Works every time." She touched the wolf's head gently, and the animal closed her eyes. "Once she's asleep, I'll see what I can do about that wound. Looks like the bullet went through cleanly. If I sew it up, she might have a chance."

Officer Wendt slammed his cell phone shut, unable to find a signal. "We'd better head down," he said, looking at Baba, who gently probed the wolf's wound.

"The girls know the way," Baba told him. "You can't expect me to leave her."

Polly knew that was exactly what he expected, but it was her mother who spoke. "The girls are
twelve,
" she said, as if that meant they weren't capable of anything. Even the larches seemed offended, no longer leaning in to listen. The hushed, charged air of Girlwood disappeared. "We need to leave before the other wolves come back," her mom went on. "Even you must see that."

Baba looked up. "All I see is that if I take you home, this wolf might die before I get back."

Officer Wendt put his gun in his holster. "We can only hope," he said.

***

Baba reluctantly left the wolf sleeping and guided them back through the woods. "That animal's life is on your shoulders, Faith," she said as they neared the town.

Back in cell phone range, Officer Wendt called Mandy's and Bridget's parents and gave them the news that their daughters were all right.

"I'll have them home in fifteen minutes," he said, then hung up and asked for Olivia's number.

Olivia whirled to face him. "I can't believe you made us leave her!" she said, a golden-tipped light standing up on the back of her neck.

"The wolf?" Officer Wendt said. "Are you crazy? You'll likely need a rabies shot."

When Olivia merely glared at him, Polly's mom grabbed the phone. "I know her number," she said. She gave him back the phone just as Mrs. Nelson answered.

"Everything's fine," Officer Wendt said. "I've found the girls." Ignoring Olivia's furious gaze, he went on painting himself as a wolf-killing hero and said he and the girls were on their way to Baba's house right now. It was only when he paused for commendations that he noticed Mrs. Nelson had begun to shout.

The policeman's smile faltered. "I don't see how..." He held the phone away from his ear, then brought it back cautiously. "But that's ridiculous. She's the one who led us ... Fine. You can meet us there."

He snapped the phone shut and jammed it in his pocket. "I'll walk Bridget and Mandy home. Olivia," he said, looking
sympathetic for the first time all day, "your mom wants to pick you up."

***

Mrs. Nelson must have run every stoplight in town, because she was waiting outside Baba's garden when the group emerged from the woods. Officer Wendt didn't even look at her. He lugged Mandy and Bridget down the street, giving them no chance to say goodbye.

Olivia stood nervously by the purple ash as Baba tiredly crossed the yard. "How nice of you to come all the way out here to collect Olivia," Baba said.

Mrs. Nelson flinched, as if Baba's breath were laced with arsenic. She usually wore her hair up in a neat ponytail, but tonight the dark strands hung in her eyes, and her sweater was on inside out. She waited until Baba had gone in the house, then called to Olivia, "Get in the car. We're going."

At the sound of her mother's voice, Olivia glanced back at the woods.

"Olivia!" Mrs. Nelson said again. She threw open the gate despite its
BEWARE
sign and strode across the garden. "Do you hear me?"

Polly wanted to say that everyone on the block could hear her, but her mother narrowed her eyes in warning.

Mrs. Nelson's gaze fell to Olivia's ripped jeans. "Oh my God. Is that blood? What have they done to you?"

Polly couldn't believe it, but Olivia didn't cry. Even when her mother pulled back the torn fabric and poked her, Olivia had the pride and restraint of a wolf.

Mrs. Nelson took her by the shoulders. "Answer me!"

"She tried to save a wolf!" Polly shouted. "It was the bravest thing I've ever seen."

Carly Leyland had given Polly a fair number of sneers, but nothing could have prepared her for the look of revulsion on Mrs. Nelson's face. It was like Polly had brought in some dreadful pestilence—a plague or a swarm of killer bees.

"I should never have allowed this friendship," the woman said, looking nervously around the yard as if the plants might jump up and grab her. "Pastor Bentley warned me, but I didn't want to make judgments. This is all my fault. Who knows what you've done to her, the things you've made her do."

"I didn't make her do anything," Polly said, her hands in fists.

"No? Then you used some kind of black magic on her. She's a
good
girl. She goes to church and studies hard and loves her family. Can you stand there and tell me this wasn't all your idea? Luring Olivia out to the middle of nowhere? Putting her life in jeopardy and convincing her to lie?"

Polly stepped back. Everything Olivia's mom said was right, but it was wrong, too. It
had
been Polly's idea, but Olivia belonged in Girlwood as much as the rest of them. She was more than just good. She was brave and loyal and willing to sacrifice herself for someone else—she was the wolf's girl.

"Carol," Polly's mom said, "let's calm down. The girls made a terrible mistake, but I think—"

"Don't tell me to calm down! This goes beyond lying and sneaking around. It's wickedness. You know it is. What have they been doing out there? Ask yourself that. I'm sorry for your loss, Faith, but frankly I can't believe you'd let another one of your daughters run loose. It's like you want to be rid of them both."

Olivia finally sprang to life. "How can you say that? It practically killed her when Bree disappeared."

The light around Polly's mom flickered and grew dim. It was only then that Polly realized it had been turning yellow, like a slow-healing bruise. Her mother
had
been getting better, whether she wanted to or not. It might have seemed like the world should stop after Bree disappeared, but it hadn't. And, more than that, Polly's mom was Baba's daughter, too strong to simply curl up and die.

Polly leaned against her mother. Her power, she realized, wasn't only in Girlwood, in a bow and drill, but in something far simpler: in a promise to her mother that she wouldn't leave
her too. She could be the daughter her mother needed, the only one she had left. As she turned her face into her mom's shoulder, a little "oh" escaped Faith Greene's lips. She lowered her face to Polly's wild hair.

"If you're lost in the woods, even in winter, you know the one plant that can sustain you?" Baba asked. She'd come out of the house so silently, Mrs. Nelson squealed and put a hand to her throat.

"Lichen," Polly said, pressing her head to her mother's chest.

Baba nodded in satisfaction. "Exactly. Why?"

"Because it grows all year," Polly told her. "And some types, like usnea, can save your life by fighting infections."

"Yes!" Baba said, showing off a handful of the stringy gray-green lichen, then tucking it into the medicine bag around her neck. "Usnea can actually shrink tumors. Out in the woods, you can apply it directly to an open wound." She smiled at Olivia's mother, who stared back with alarm.

"We're going, Olivia," Mrs. Nelson said.

"But I want to go with them!" Olivia cried. "The wolf needs me!"

Mrs. Nelson looked like she was about to have a heart attack. "We're going straight to Pastor Bentley's house," she said, dragging Olivia to the car. "He'll know what to do."

Polly tried to go after them, but Mrs. Nelson locked the car
doors. As she screeched out of the driveway, Polly couldn't help but wonder if Olivia's mother was right. Maybe they
were
wicked. Wicked because they loved nature more than church; because they thought light and beauty were just as likely to be found in a wolf or Baba's amazing herbs as in people; because they didn't think someone like Pastor Bentley should get to decide what was holy or good.

Maybe they were wicked, but if so, she was glad.

Baba stepped up beside them, the rainbow around her enveloping them all. "Nice lady," Baba said. "We should have her over more often."

Polly was stunned when her mother and grandmother laughed at the same moment. It was eerie, like beautiful, forbidden music.

"You look tired, Mom," Polly's mom said.

Baba waved her off. "I'm fine. I've got to get up to that wolf, though."

Baba had walked a thousand miles, yet Polly doubted that she could make it one more. It was enough to make her cry, but instead Polly squared her shoulders. Lichen, she thought, to prevent infection. Goldenrod to stop the bleeding. A needle and thread. She could save that wolf herself. She'd watch the animal's aura to see if she was recovering or fading. Polly would never be her grandmother, but she would have to do.

She only had to convince her mother, but Faith Greene was
now staring wide-eyed at the rainbow that stretched from Baba's head to the treetops. She said nothing, but Polly would have bet a million dollars that she saw it—something a logical person would have sworn couldn't be there.

"You don't have to go, Baba," Polly said. "I can do it."

All of them froze. As Polly's mother dropped her gaze from Baba's rainbow, Polly's heart fluttered like a bird in her chest. Her mom studied her long and hard, until, with a sigh, she finally nodded.

"We'll go together," she said. "You can stay here this time, Mom."

Baba's shoulders sagged in relief, as if some words had the same soothing properties as chickweed. She lifted her medicine bag off her neck and handed it to Polly.

"Oh," Polly said, feeling like there were feathers inside her, lifting her off the ground.

Baba turned to Polly's mom and smiled. "Thank you, Faith," she said.

***

They found the wolf still sleeping, the golden light around her dim.

Polly gritted her teeth as she used goldenrod to stop the bleeding, then packed the wound with lichen to keep infection at bay. She pretended the skin was merely fabric as she stitched it closed. She couldn't see pain the way Baba could, but she had her own guide—the light around the wolf that brightened slightly as she worked.

"Baba couldn't have done it better," her mother said as Polly bit off the end of the thread. Polly's hands trembled once it was over. She swore if she looked in the mirror, she would see a different person. An older one, hardly a girl at all.

"Now we wait," her mom went on, "and hope she wakes up."

For two hours, it looked like she wouldn't. The wolf lay so still Polly had to press her ear to the animal's chest to hear a heartbeat. Then, at last, the leader opened her eyes. She snarled and struggled, and Polly and her mother leaped to their feet. Still too weak to stand, though, the wolf merely looked from face to face, searching.

"She wants Olivia," Polly said, and lowered her head. So did she.

Though many consider it a weed, the ancient Greeks dedicated the oxeye daisy to Artemis, the virgin huntress, and Christians to Mary Magdalene, both believing it a powerful herb for women. The leaves are edible, with a taste and texture like romaine lettuce, and the flowers contain compounds useful in making safe, natural insecticides.

It was after midnight when Polly and her mother finally left the wolf and walked home.

"Thank God you're all right!" Polly's dad said, hurrying down the porch steps. "I drove over here hours ago. Max Wendt came to the cabin to tell me what happened."