Howl (13 page)

Robin shook her head. Probably not.

“No chance!” Griff popped the rest of the apple into her mouth core and all. “Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying you shouldn’t listen to your dad. You should. But listen to your own heart first.”

Griff reached for another cookie. Robin pulled the plate away. Griff lunged and got one anyway. “You got to be fast to beat your granny.” She winked.

Robin looked out the window, and her jaw dropped. “The bear’s out there! The mother bear!”

As Griff swung around, Robin grabbed the cookie out of Griff’s hand. It broke, leaving them both with half.

Griff grinned. “You imp!” She raised the half-cookie in salute. “But don’t be making jokes about that mother bear. If she shows up, you won’t be laughing, my girl. You won’t be laughing at all.”

They finished eating in silence.

“Anyways,” Griff said, “given your father’s feelings, I think we should take a temporary break from rescuing animals. And hope like heck the word doesn’t get out about the ones we have.”

“Everyone is sworn to secrecy,” Robin said. She’d made both Zo-Zo and Brodie swear two more times not to say anything, and Squirm had done the same with Tom. Squirm was the weak link in that he liked to talk, but she planned to keep the pressure on him big time.

Griff looked unconvinced. “Maybe so, but keeping a secret in a small town is like trying to cook pizza and not have it smell. Pretty darn impossible.”

“No one else is going to find out,” Robin said. She put as much strength as she could into the words, but something niggled inside her. Not until later on that day when she was in bed and just about to go to sleep did she figure out what that niggle was all about. She sat up in bed.

The photographs! What if the photographs Zo-Zo had taken of the animals somehow got into general circulation? Zo-Zo had said she would only show them to Robin and Brodie, but Robin realized now that even that was a risk. She would have to talk to Zo-Zo at school tomorrow and plead with her to erase them from her camera and computer. That was the only way to make sure they were never seen by anyone.

All night she twisted and turned. She talked to Zo-Zo about the photos several times. Then she’d wake up, see that the room was dark and realize she’d been dreaming. Was morning ever going to come?

Finally, the alarm went off. Groaning, she stood up and the room began to spin. She tried to swallow and felt a sharp pain in her throat. When she opened her mouth to speak, no words came out, only a raspy whisper that left her throat feeling as if she were trying to push a toothpick through it.

She dressed anyway and went downstairs. Griff took one look at her and raised her large hand to Robin’s forehead.

“Goodness, what are you trying to do, child, burn the house down? No school for you today.”

Robin started to protest, but every attempted word scraped her throat like glass.

“Back to bed, sweet girl. I’ll bring you some broth later.”

That afternoon, spring rains pounded on the roof of the farmhouse. Robin slept fitfully, plagued with crazy dreams. In one of them, someone was chasing her with a camera, but the camera was shaped like a gun, and it fired bullets. She woke up sweating. Pulling herself to sitting, she checked the clock. It was two thirty in the afternoon. Soon Zo-Zo would be home from school. She would call then, but she fell asleep again, and when she awoke, it was early evening. Resolved to call before it was too late, she opened her mouth to ask her brother to bring her the phone, but couldn’t make a sound.

Robin’s voice didn’t return for four days. When it did come back, even though it was weak and squeaky, she told Griff she was going to school.

Griff frowned. “We’ll see what the thermometer says.” She put the glass tube in Robin’s mouth then picked up some clothes and went to put them in the laundry.

The moment Griff’s back was turned, Robin slipped the thermometer out of her mouth, only putting it back in when she heard Griff climb the stairs.

Griff squinted as she held the glass tube up to the light then put her hand on Robin’s forehead. “You still feel hot, but this darn thing says you’re back to normal.”

Robin pushed the covers aside and started to dress.

“Don’t see why you’re so hot to trot about getting back to school.” Griff wrapped a wool scarf around Robin’s neck. “Didn’t think you liked the place.”

Robin wondered the same thing as the bus pulled up to the school and she saw Brittany and her gang of friends hanging around the front door. She looked for Brodie but couldn’t see him.

The other kids exited the bus, and the driver turned to her. “I haven’t got all day.”

Robin took a deep breath and got out. Her legs felt wobbly. She didn’t feel well, she didn’t feel well at all.

Seeing Robin, Brittany elbowed her friends. “Hey, it’s skunk girl!”

Robin tried to push past them. Who had told them? Who?

A girl’s face thrust itself in front of her. She was pinching her own nose. “Ew! She stinks!”

The other kids copied her, all pinching their noses. Robin put her head down and pushed forward, but the gang pressed into her, stopping her forward motion.

“Ska–unk. Ska–unk!” The kids chanted.

The bell rang, and the grenade of kids exploded in every direction. Robin stood for a moment, not knowing what to do. If only she could go home. Sighing deeply, she forced herself to go into the school. At least now maybe she’d find out who had finked about the skunks. Was the word out about the other animals too?

Zo-Zo ran up to her. “It was a mistake, I —”

Robin’s voice was raspy, but she got the words out. “I just got called ‘skunk girl’ by you know who.”

Zo-Zo shoved a finger under her thick glasses and rubbed one of her eyes. Both looked puffy, as if there were a bunch of tears behind the lids just bursting to get out. “It’s my fault,” she said. “I printed those stupid photos for Brodie, and somehow Brittany got her hands on them.”

Mr. Lynch was at his desk now and asking the class to come to order.

“Brodie feels terrible.”

Robin turned. Across the class, Brodie was looking at her. His eyes were one long lament.

Feeling woozy, she sat down at her desk. Suddenly, the world felt very slippery and unsafe. She tried to give herself a handrail of hope. Just because a bunch of kids knew didn’t necessarily mean her dad would find out, did it?

“As long as my dad doesn’t find out, that’s all I care about,” she whispered to Zo-Zo.

Zo-Zo’s lips twitched. “There’s more. It’s worse. Way worse. I —”

“Quiet!” Mr. Lynch ordered.

He started to teach a geography lesson. Robin sat in her chair feeling so dizzy and fuzzy-headed, she couldn’t follow the lesson. What did Zo-Zo mean, “It’s worse”? How could things possibly be worse? Various possibilities filled her mind. What if the authorities had been told? Would her family get fined? Would someone come and try to take all the animals away? What if they were taking them away right now while Robin sat in school? She squirmed in her seat and chewed her thumbnails until they bled.

Mr. Lynch droned on and on. Now she wished fervently that she’d stayed home. This was turning out to be the
worst
day of her life. And it wasn’t over yet.

When the bell for recess finally sounded, Robin bolted from the classroom, pulling Zo-Zo behind her. She led Zo-Zo around the corner of the school and pushed her against the brick wall.

“Tell me.”

Zo-Zo’s eyes looked as if they were going to pop out of her head. “Someone sent the photographs to my dad.”

Robin was confused. What did Zo-Zo’s dad have to do with anything? Then she remembered. Zo-Zo’s dad was the editor of the local newspaper.

Zo-Zo gripped Robin’s arm as if trying to steady herself. “He didn’t know we were trying to keep the animals a secret. So he printed the pictures. They’re going to be in today’s newspaper.”

Robin fell against Zo-Zo.

Now everyone in the entire town would know. In graphic detail. The thing she had feared most had happened.

Robin felt as if she were taking an elevator down into a cold and dark cellar. She put her face in her hands. Getting herself into trouble was bad enough, getting her dad into trouble was the worst, the very worst.

Zo-Zo winced then pulled her hoodie over her head. It was starting to rain. “Come on. Let’s go inside before we get soaked.”

Robin hadn’t noticed the rain. She let Zo-Zo pull her inside. They went into the cafeteria. As they passed, two kids held their noses.

For the rest of the afternoon, Robin sat at her desk and worried. Mr. Lynch was writing all kinds of things on the board, but she kept her head down, pretending to take notes. Her page was filled however, with only one word. “Stupid.” She wrote it and wrote it and wrote it.

She kept staring at the clock. She wanted the school day to be over but dreaded that too. She kept picturing her father and the way his face got splotchy when he was mad.

When the school day finally ended, Zo-Zo turned to her. “Want me to go home with you?”

Robin shook her head. Nothing was going to help now. She pulled up the hood of her coat and started walking.

Zo-Zo stared at her. “You’re not taking the bus?”

Robin shook her head and set off. It would take her over an hour to walk, but she didn’t care. She was in no hurry to get back. Her father was going to be furious, that she knew. Would he yell at her? Ground her? Keep her in her room for the rest of her life? She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans and forged onward.

She slowed her steps as she walked up the lane. Her father’s car was parked in the driveway. That was not a good sign. Normally he didn’t come home until an hour or so after she did. She winced and warily made her way to Griff’s. Maybe Griff would be able to tell her how mad her father was. Maybe Griff would go into the farmhouse with her. But Griff was not in her cabin. She must be talking with their dad about how to punish her.

Robin crept towards the house and let herself in the kitchen door. Her father was slumped at the table. Griff was sitting beside him, looking grim. The newspaper was spread out on the table. Even from a few feet away, Robin could see the photo of Mukwa. Beside it were photos of the squirrels and skunks.

Griff and her father turned to see her. Her father’s face looked haggard and sad — just as it had the day of her mother’s funeral.

She watched as he opened his mouth to speak. She expected his voice to be loud. But it wasn’t. In fact, it was so soft she could barely hear it.

When he spoke, he said only three words. At first, Robin didn’t think she’d heard them right. They were the worst words ever, and she wanted to shove them back into his mouth. She just stared at him, her jaw falling as he spoke, her eyes wide.

He said the words again. “I got fired.”

In the days that followed, the house became strangely quiet. It had been like that after her mother had become sick, too, but the quietness then had been sad and damp somehow, like a foggy morning. This time, the quiet was as loud as a scream. And it had a long finger in the middle of it, a finger that was pointed accusingly at her.

Not that her father said anything. He didn’t. He just got quiet, deathly quiet. It was Ari who said the words Robin knew everyone was thinking. “If it weren’t for you, we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Robin had cowered, hearing these words, but Ari was right. It
was
her fault.

Unable to stand how awful she felt around the farmhouse, Robin went to Griff’s often and made excuses to go down to the barn. Anything to avoid seeing her father sitting on the porch, hour after hour, staring at the lake, his eyes as lifeless as ashes.

One afternoon when she and Zo-Zo and Brodie were in the library, marking the second round of contest questionnaires, Robin expressed, once again, how guilty she felt.

Zo-Zo looked stricken. “I’m the one to blame. I never should have taken those pictures.”

“No, I’m the one to blame,” Brodie said. “I’m the one who lost them. I can’t believe it. I feel so stupid!”

Zo-Zo rolled her eyes. “Come on, Brodie. You didn’t
lose
them. Brittany
stole
them.”

A pained expression filled Brodie’s face, and he looked away.

Robin was glad they felt badly. She
wanted
them to feel badly.

Brodie turned to Robin. “Do you think your dad’s going to be able to find another job?”

Robin shrugged. She didn’t think so, based on what she’d heard her father and Griff saying. “Right now, he’s not even looking. He’s just doing that staring into space thing, big time.”

Brodie looked down. “My dad stares into space all the time. But then he’s always got a beer in his hand. I can’t tell you how many times he’s passed out, and I’ve had to peel his fingers off the bottle.”

Robin saw the anguish in Brodie’s eyes and wished she could say something wise or helpful, but she didn’t know what that would be.

Zo-Zo grimaced. “My mom used to stare into space too. Then she left.”

Robin tensed. Her father would never leave them, would he? The word
never
clutched at her throat. She never would have thought her mother would have gotten sick either.