Restoring Harmony (21 page)

44

THE WATER WAS BARELY ANKLE-DEEP, AND I STAGGERED to my feet as the boat sped away. We all stood breathless in a little knot.

“Molly, you’re going to have to create a diversion,” Spill said. “Go towards the shore and start screaming for help. We’ll stand here as long as we can and then we’ll hide somewhere.”

“North end of town,” I said. “Tomorrow.”

“Who’s out there?” yelled a man onshore. The dogs barked and whined, plunging into the water.

I took a deep breath. “Help! I’ve been thrown overboard!” I yelled. “Help me!” I took a few steps towards the shore, but then Michael began to cry. He screamed and yelled like someone was beating him. Grandma thrust him into my arms. I splashed forward, clutching him to me.

A man with a lantern was waiting for us onshore. He whistled to the dogs, and four energetic Labs came running and sat at his feet. “Are you all right?” he asked.

I wanted to yell for joy. Of course I was all right. I was back in Canada! But I knew that I wasn’t home free yet. “I think we’re okay,” I said. “Just wet. And my brother’s scared of the dogs.”

The man tried to help me by taking either Michael or the fiddle, but I held on to both. “Thanks, but I’ve got them.” Michael clung to me so tightly I couldn’t have set him down if I’d wanted to anyway.

“What’re you doing out here?” the man asked.

“I was visiting my grand-er,
our
grandparents in the States, and I paid a man to bring us home, but he dumped us here.”

“You’re Canadians?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Got your passports?”

“In my fiddle case.”

“Come along.”

I walked with the man up a rocky beach to a path leading through the woods, the dogs snuffling around at my wet feet. The man wasn’t more than a large dark shadow, and I couldn’t tell from his demeanor so far if he’d be nice or a rule follower.

“Don’t you know that there’s a moratorium on all boat crossings into Canada?” he asked.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I said.

“Because of the polio epidemic in the States,” he explained. “You have to be examined by a doctor at a land crossing before you’re allowed into the country. No boats allowed until further notice.”

“Oh. I didn’t know.” I was glad I didn’t have to look him in the eye when I told that lie or he’d probably be able to tell I was scared. “The captain never said. He just told me we couldn’t land in Victoria for some reason, and the next thing I knew he was tossing us overboard.”

The man led us into a tidy log cabin with a roaring fire in the stove. That’s when I noticed he was wearing a RCMP uniform. He was a police officer? Crap.

“Am I in trouble?”

“Depends,” he answered. “How are you feeling?”

“Ummm . . . fine.” I could see him now, and he was huge and hairy. He towered over me and Michael, his wild beard and furry eyebrows practically covering his face.

“Been exposed to polio?” he asked, but he didn’t sound as if he really cared.

I shook my head and Michael pressed his face into my shoulder. “No,” I said. “Not that I know of, anyway.”

“That’s what they all say.” The officer sighed. “But it doesn’t really matter to me because they’ll never stop it. You’d think they’d know after all the flu pandemics that having everyone camping together is a great way to spread disease. If not polio, then something else.”

That was exactly what Grandpa had told me too. And another good reason to avoid the camps, as far as I was concerned.

“Wait here,” he said. He slipped into a back room and came out with a couple of blankets. I took Michael into the washroom with me, but I didn’t have anything to change him into, so I stripped off his wet clothes and wrapped him in the blanket. I was hoping one of my grandparents had my pack, because I didn’t have it anymore. I took off my soaked jeans and made a skirt out of the other blanket for myself. When I came out, there was a plate with a piece of smoked salmon and a chunk of bread on the table by the stove.

“Eat,” he said.

I dug my passport out of the inside of my fiddle case instead, and handed it to him.

“Nice violin,” he said, eyeing Jewels.

“Thanks.”

He studied my passport by the light of the fire. “Looks all right, eh? But what about your brother?”

“I . . . I . . . lost his. In the water.”

He studied me. “Uh-huh.”

“Really.”

“Get some sleep. We’ll discuss it in the morning. I’m supposed to lock you up overnight, but I’ve got a bunch of men in the jail already who were tossed overboard earlier. You two can sleep on that couch.”

“Thank you,” I said. “And thanks for the food.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t even think about sneaking off in the middle of the night. The guard dogs are outside, and I keep them just a little bit hungry.”

In the morning, the RCMP officer made us a pot of oatmeal on the woodstove. He said I could play Jewels, but I stopped after the first song.

“You really don’t mind?” I asked. “She’s awfully loud in such a small place.”

“I like it,” he said.

When the food was ready, I packed Jewels into her case and managed to talk Michael into eating a few spoonfuls.

“Where’s Brandy?” he whined. “I want Grandma and Grandpa.”

“Shhh,” I said. That was the first time I’d heard him call my grandparents that, and even though it surprised me, I liked it. “We’ll be home soon.”

I washed our dishes in a tiny sink and then I sat down on the couch with Michael, ready to find out what our fate was going to be. The only plan I had was to beg for mercy if I had to.

“The way I see it,” the officer said, sitting in a blue chair across from us, “your
brother
doesn’t have a passport, and you want me to look the other way.”

Michael buried his head against my shoulder.

“And there’s the whole polio thing too,” he continued. “But we’ve already established I don’t care much about that. However, you do have something I want, so we trade.”

He looked right at me, and I squirmed in my seat. There was only one thing I had that he could possibly want. I’m sorry, but there was no way I was going to have sex with that big furry man. Even for Michael!

“I’m a minor,” I said with as much dignity as I could muster.

“And I’m married,” he said. “I was talking about your violin.”

“What?” I jumped up, dislodging Michael. “My dad gave me this fiddle. I can’t.”

He shrugged. “Your choice. Let’s go.” He stood and opened the door.

“Where?”

“Down to the jailhouse. I have to scan your passport, and you’ll both need a physical. We’ll probably have to take your brother into foster care until we can verify his identity too.”

Foster care? That might not be such a bad option. Mom and Dad could come back and adopt him. Or Spill could break him out. Yeah, that was a good plan. I’d let this man take him and then we’d follow Michael and get him back. I shook my head, trying to clear it. Was I crazy? I couldn’t let him take Michael.

“They’re shipping most foster kids back to the mainland,” the man said casually. “Would make it harder to get him back, if he really is your brother. Ferries are pretty expensive these days.”

I knew he was lying. Wasn’t he? He had to be. There was no reason to do that. Still . . . I glanced at Jewels’ case.

The man smiled at me, knowing he’d won. Before I could change my mind or Michael figured out what was going on, I took him by the hand and we walked out the open door, leaving Jewels behind on the couch.

45

October 8th-Everybody wants a good life. Everybody wants a family and some friends. It’s just a simple truth. That’s what it all comes down to in the end.

-Victor Mecyssne

MICHAEL AND I SAW OUR GROUP SITTING UNDER A tree before they noticed us, but by the time we got to the little grove of firs, everyone was standing.

“Do you want a rest, or can we get going?” Grandpa asked.

“We’re fine,” I said. “But what about you guys? Did you get any sleep?”

“Under the stars, on the beach.” He sighed happily.

“Nice,” Grandma said, smiling.

“We had a fire,” Brandy added.

“Sounds good.”

“Before you go,” Spill said, “I need to talk to Molly in private, for a minute.”

Grandpa gave him a stern look that almost made me laugh. “Don’t be too long,” he said. “We need to get moving.”

Spill led me away from the road into the woods. The earth smelled like it should: damp, scented with pine. The needles padded my steps, welcoming me home.

“Weren’t you guys freezing without the sleeping bags and stuff?” I asked. We’d left the camping gear with the Brothers.

“I had a bunch of HyperFoil blankets,” he said. “And the fire helped. We weren’t exactly comfortable, but we did okay.” He stopped walking in a little clearing surrounded by a grove of towering fir trees. “So . . .”

“So?” I smiled and brushed a stray curl away from my face.

“I guess this is it,” he said. His blue eyes sparkled, and he held my gaze.

“It?” I asked.

“Time to go our separate ways.”

This was stupid. We didn’t have to go separate ways. I grabbed both his hands. “Come back with us.”

“Nah . . . I can’t, Molly.”

“Just for a little while?” I asked. “Why not?”

“Because,” he said, smiling, “I want your dad to take me seriously when he meets me for the first time.”

“After all you’ve done for us, how could he-”

“Seriously,” he repeated. “You know why.”

My stomach gave a little flutter. He wanted Dad to like him.

“Will you visit?” I asked.

He took my hand and held it. “I’ll keep in touch,” he said. “I promise not to just disappear.”

I couldn’t really imagine my life without Spill. I’d gotten so used to having him around. Even when I went weeks without seeing him, he was always on my mind. I threw my arms around him and hugged him tightly.

His hold on me was softer, more gentle, and I tipped my head back to look at his face, and he did the same. And then he leaned in, pressing his mouth to mine, his lips so soft I couldn’t believe it. He’d lived such a tough-guy life, but his mouth felt like warm velvet. After not long enough, he pulled away.

“Time to go,” he said.

I tried to hold on, knowing that as soon as I released him, he’d leave, but he untangled himself anyway and took one of my hands in his. We walked back, fingers entwined, my feet dragging.

“Where’s your fiddle?” he asked.

“Oh, you know . . . ,” I said as casually as I could, “the RCMP officer who put us up last night . . . he wanted a fiddle.”

He simply nodded, but there was a glint of fire in his eyes. “Why didn’t you give him your gold?” he asked.

“My gold?”

“In your boot.”

“Oh, my God!” I said, stopping. “I forgot all about it. Let’s go and see if he’ll take it.”

Spill held firmly to my hand to keep me from running back the way I’d just come with Michael. “It’s too late, Molly,” he said. “It’s done.”

“But, Spill!”

“Trust me. I know about these things.”

I slumped against him, and he put his arm around my shoulder. “You did the right thing,” he said.

“Yeah . . . I know.” But doing the right thing didn’t bring Jewels back to me.

We were in view of everyone else by then, and I could feel them all staring at us.

“Time to say good-bye,” Spill said.

I nodded, resigned. We all took turns hugging him, and then he gave me the briefest kiss, his lips just brushing mine, before he walked back the way I had just come. When I looked at my grandparents to see if they’d noticed, I swear Grandpa’s eyes were twinkling. Grandma grinned big at me, and I knew I was blushing. Michael didn’t care, but the kiss gave Brandy something to tease me about for at least two kilometers. I didn’t really mind, though. In fact, I couldn’t help smiling every time she mentioned it.

We’d only been on the road for half an hour, and the kids and Grandma were already dragging. “How far is it to the island?” Grandpa asked.

“Well . . .” I did the math from kilometers to miles. “Around thirty miles, I think.”

“Too bad we left all the camping equipment behind,” he said. “We might need it.”

“Actually,” I said, “today’s the day the ferry crosses, and if we can catch some rides with farmers, we should make it.” I hoped that was true.

The day wore on, cold and breezy, but we were all warm from the exertion of the walk. We’d stopped for a lunch of hard cheese and even harder bread, and as we were getting up to go, a woman with an empty wagon pulled by two horses rattled up to us.

“Need a lift?” she asked. “I could do with the company.”

“Yes, please!” we all said.

Grandpa hoisted Grandma up onto the seat next to the woman, and the rest of us scrambled into the back. She wasn’t going as far north as we needed to go, but when she let us out, we were only about an hour’s walk from my island. The kids were tired, but also excited to be on the ground again, and they ran ahead, forward and back, like puppies.

“Wagon,” Grandma said, pointing behind us.

I turned and looked. Even from the distance we could see that it was completely full of hay. There wouldn’t be another ride for us in it. I hustled the kids to the side of the road as the horse’s clip-clops got louder.

“Afternoon,” the farmer said as he passed.

I was digging out a water bottle from the pack for Brandy, not paying any attention to the wagon, when I heard my name.

“Molly! Is that you?”

I looked up. Sitting on a hay bale in the back of the wagon was Katie’s fiancé, Nick. His red hair glinted in the weak sunshine, and his smile was wide. I shoved the backpack into Grandma’s arms and ran after the wagon.

“Nick!”

“You made it back!” he said.

“Yeah. Almost! What are you doing on that wagon?”

“Hitching a ride,” he called. He was getting further away, even though I was running as fast as I could. “I went to the city to get my wedding clothes!” He held up a brown package. “I’d walk with you, but I have to catch the ferry so I can do the milking. Boy, will your family be glad you’re finally home!”

“Me too!” I yelled. I had to stop jogging then, but both of us kept waving until he was out of sight. It was while I was bent over double trying to catch my breath that I realized we pretty much had no chance of making the last ferry. I hoped Nick was smart enough to figure that out and would send someone in a fishing boat to get us, but it was hard to say for sure.

As my brother James often said about Nick (not when Katie was around), he was a nice guy, but he was sometimes a sandwich short of a picnic. Which reminded me, all we had left to eat was dry bread. It was going to be a long night if he didn’t send a boat.