The Eclipse of Moonbeam Dawson (21 page)

Or maybe Gastown, the oldest section of Vancouver. Maybe that's where he should go. He couldn't visualize that point of interest without seeing her there, too.

GASTOWN STATUE BLAMED FOR DEATH OF GIRLS

The famous statue of Gassy Jack, Vancouver's first saloon keeper, toppled today in a freak accident, crushing to death Michelle Lamont, 16, of Vancouver. Other bystanders, friends of Ms. Lamont were also killed. Their identities have not yet been released pending notification of next of kin.

There sure was a lot of stuff to do. The Capilano Suspension Bridge was cool. Another tourist attraction where she would show up.

BRIDGE SNAPS SENDING TEENAGE GIRL TO HER DEATH

The Capilano Suspension Bridge, spanning the canyon 70 meters above the Capilano River, snapped today as extraordinary turbulence, a rare atmospheric phenomenon known as the Moonbeam Gust, appeared without warning, destroying the bridge and hurling Michelle Lamont, 16, of Vancouver to her death on the rocks below. Several unidentified friends of Ms. Lamont also on the bridge at the time of the mishap, remain in critical condition.

Reid continued to study the points of interest on the back of the map, imagining Michelle's death at each one, an activity which gave him considerable satisfaction. Then he looked over the list of museums, seeing her crushed in freak accidents as various sculptures and paintings fell on her head, and finally decided to go to the U.B.C. Museum of Anthropology. That's where Bill Reid's famous sculpture was, and it made him think of the day Gloria had helped him figure out his name. That day had been a good day.

It looked like it was a straight shot out to U.B.C. on the bus that ran along Southwest Marine Drive. The only thing that worried him was that he had seen something called the Southlands Riding Club on the map and figured that was probably where Michelle and her friends were going. He didn't think he could stand it if they drove by in their Land Rover and saw him waiting for the bus; drove by laughing their heads off, singing “Mummy Wants Me for a Moonbeam.”

She can dabble in your world, but you don't belong in hers.
His mother's words came back to him. He hated to admit that she had been right. For the past few years she had leaned on him for everything, always asking his advice, and he just never thought of her as someone whose judgment he could trust. But he also knew that even if he had a suspicion his mother might be right about Michelle, nothing would have stopped him from getting involved with her. There are some things you have to find out for yourself, no matter what people tell you. Especially your mother.

On the bus to U.B.C., Reid looked out at the broad streets. The cherry trees were almost through blooming, and their fallen petals clung to the curb like soft pink confetti. The houses were smaller than the mansions in Michelle's neighborhood. But they were still monstrous compared to where he had lived most his life: small apartments and one-room cabins. Where
did
he belong? Even living in these smaller houses with their tidy rectangular lots would be like suffocating. All the cars, the exhaust from the buses. He wanted to be back on the west coast of Vancouver Island. He knew that much.

But he couldn't see living at Stere Island Lodge forever either, and being home schooled. He'd had it with that. But living with his mother in that small cabin on Palmer's Land was out of the question. They'd drive each other crazy. It was too small. The past two weeks they hadn't gotten along very well, and they weren't even living together. Reid got that feeling again when there was too much to think about, like his brain was scrambled. He was glad when he arrived at U.B.C.

At the museum he stopped in the gift shop near the entrance and got a small brochure and map of the museum. The gift shop had fancy books; some were the same as ones in the lodge, but then he noticed one the lodge didn't have. An entire book about Bill Reid. The cover was a deep rich brown with a photograph of a stunning gold carved box with a bird on the top. The title in gold lettering simply said
Bill Reid,
with the name of the author, Doris Shadbolt, at the bottom in smaller letters. Reid picked up the book and scanned the jacket flap.

… a visual artist of monumental power and highest accomplishment … Born in 1920 to a German-Scots-American father and a Haida mother, Reid grew up in British Columbia.

Reid looked at the price of the book. He had to have it. He pulled out his wallet and checked his money. He'd only have a dollar left once he'd bought it, but he already had his bus ticket back to Coal Harbour. And he didn't need to buy food; after seeing Michelle and her friends, he'd lost his appetite. He went to the register and bought it.

He spent almost a half-hour looking at the huge cedar sculpture,
The Raven and the First Men.
It was a famous sculpture, and although it wasn't the first time he'd seen it, it felt like the first time. He was blown away by it. The only person he'd ever heard of who had one parent who was a Haida Indian and the other who was not only white but an American who then became a Canadian—was this guy who had made this incredible thing!

As Reid circled the sculpture, an older man who looked Native came in the room with a group of students. Some of them were taking notes, and the man, who wore glasses and was dressed in a sport coat, seemed to be in the middle of giving a lecture. “Bill Reid was in his early teens before he even became conscious of the fact that he was anything other than an average Caucasian North American,” he stated in a deep voice.

Reid's ears perked up and he inched a little closer to the group.

“Bill's quest to learn about his heritage probably began with the natural curiosity of most teenagers to know where they came from. In his case, since he had no knowledge of his father's relatives, he became interested in his mother's family.”

Reid watched closely as the man moved next to the sculpture and pointed to the raven. “His grandmother belonged by birth to the Raven clan and his family crest was the Wolf.”

The man giving the talk waited while the group walked around the sculpture. Reid thought he was probably on the museum staff, or maybe a teacher at U.B.C. He really wanted to talk to him since he seemed to be an expert on Bill Reid, but he couldn't quite get up the nerve. He felt like he'd blown every bit of nerve he had on this stupid trip to see that witch.

Instead, he decided to hang around and listen, but after a few minutes the man led the group to another room. Reid felt a little silly following them, but he did anyway, careful to stay a few paces behind.

“This sculpture,
Carved Cedar Bear,
is inspired by the myth that tells how the Bear clan was established. In the story of the Bear Mother and her Husband, for instance…”

Reid's mind drifted away as he stared at the magnificent bear carved by Bill Reid. He thought about his ridiculous bear hunt with that rich witch and it made him wince. But the more he looked at the extraordinary sculpture of the huge bear, the more he began to feel a kind of powerful energy contained within the smooth cedar surface. His mother had said you could feel the hand of the Maker on wood sometimes. Is that what she meant? He didn't know, but it seemed that something inside him was beginning to settle down just by sitting near the bear and looking at its smooth limbs, the huge claws, the large dark eyes.

The group of students and their teacher left for another room, but Reid stayed behind, mesmerized by the bear. He stayed for about twenty minutes and then took one last look at
The Raven and the First Men
before leaving the museum.

*   *   *

On the bus Reid pored over his new book and found a description of Bill Reid that seemed to speak directly to him. “… there is obviously a part of him that longs for the warmth and security of the extended family community … so his awakening awareness had to do with family, for he was as yet unacquainted in any conscious way with the whole body of Haida culture or art.”

Reid closed the book and looked out the window at the rows of well-kept houses with their beautifully landscaped yards and he realized how much he missed the only extended family he had known, the people at the Happy Children of the Good Earth. People he had lived with for five years, one-third of his life. It wasn't that he wanted to live that way again. It was too small for him, now. But recognizing he'd never go back to it made him sad.

*   *   *

When he got back to Stere Island, Reid headed for the beach. He was in no mood to talk to anyone, and looking at the ocean always made him feel better. He sat on the driftwood log where he had been with Gloria and looked out at the dark storm clouds forming on the horizon. The wind had picked up and the waves crashed as they broke on the beach.
How could he have been so stupid?
But then he wondered, if Michelle had been happy to see him, would he ever have found out what she was really like? He watched wave after wave break across the sand, and it began to dawn on him. If his letter hadn't made any difference, if she didn't care that he was half-Native and didn't go to a private school and was from such a different background from hers, then she would be someone he could really care about.

He picked up a fistful of sand and let it run through his fingers. He was the one who had dumped her! Maybe he hadn't told her off, but he had dumped her from his mind. She'd never know it, but she was history. He found out what she was really like and he didn't want any part of her!

He jumped up and ran toward the ocean, then picked up a rock that was embedded in the wet sand and hurled it into the surf. It was like throwing her away, and he threw one rock after another, each one farther out than the next. Stretching himself as the wind whipped against him and the salt spray stung his face.

He leaned down to get another rock, then turned in surprise. Gloria was running across the sand, calling to him.

“Didn't you hear me?” she said, breathlessly. “I've been looking all over for you!”

“I didn't hear a thing. The waves make so much noise.”

“Reid, your mother's been arrested—”

“Arrested! For what?”

“Bear Alert disrupted a hunting operation run by a guy named Orville Webb. The RCMPs were called and the people in the Bear Alert boat were charged with harassment. Your mum was in the boat … so was my brother.”

“Where is she now?”

“She's in the town jail in Tofino and Harvey is—”

“Jail! Isn't there a fine or bail or something?”

“Harvey's offered to help, but she's not sure what she wants to do until she talks to you. Harvey came back to get you.”

“What about your brother?” Reid asked as he hurried with her across the beach.

“He's okay. He's out on bail,” Gloria told him, slightly out of breath as they ran along the path. “I was involved, too, as one of the lookouts at Grice Bay, so I didn't get arrested. But your mother is really gutsy.”

Reid waved to Harvey from the top of the marina steps, then hesitated for a minute. “I should have been helping you guys instead of going to Vancouver.” He looked away, embarrassed. “She was a real witch. I suppose you knew all along.”

“When a girl who looks like that throws herself at a guy, he's a sitting duck.”

“I know I've been a really lame friend. I'm sorry.”

“You better go,” she said quietly, catching her breath.

“You're not still mad?”

Gloria didn't say anything for a minute. Then she smiled.

Reid didn't know what to say. “I better get down there.” He returned her smile, feeling grateful. “Is there anything you need in town?”

“No. I'll see you when you get back.” As he left, she called after him. “And tell your mother I'm behind her all the way!”

*   *   *

It began to rain. A number of yachts were slowly coming through the channel to the marina and Reid could see a group of people scurrying to break down the gear of a huge sailboat at the end of the dock where Harvey moored his boat.

“Glad Gloria found you. I must have just missed you.” Harvey grabbed the line and pulled it in, holding it as Reid climbed over the rail.

“I was at the beach. How's Mum?”

Harvey looked upset. “She doesn't seem to want to listen to anything I have to say right now. She only wants to talk to you.”

“I'm her family.” Reid's eyes met Harvey's with a steady gaze.

Harvey nodded, then he started the engine as Reid got the lines and pulled in the bumpers. As they got underway, the sky got darker and it began to pour. There was rough weather ahead.

Chapter Fourteen

There were only two cells in the Tofino jail. Small, grim spaces, they were walled on three sides with concrete blocks, with bars and a barred door enclosing the front. Each one was furnished with two steel beds, a stainless steel toilet, and sink. The first cell was empty. Abby sat on the steel bed in the other, waving jauntily when she saw Reid. Upbeat, cheerful, trying to give him the impression that everything was perfectly fine. But he knew better. Her eyes were scared.

“Hi, Moonbeam,” she chirped as Thorin Olson, the guard, let him in the cell.

“Sorry about this,” Thorin apologized. “It's the rules.”

“We understand.” Abby smiled graciously as he shut the door, locking them both in.

“Jeez, Mum. All I do is leave the area for one day, and—”

“No lectures, honey.”

Reid sat next to her on the bed. He looked around the sparse cell, taking in the cold concrete blocks, the sink, and toilet without so much as a wall for privacy. It was quite a price for her principles. “Guess you've lived in better places, eh?”

“I don't think the Queen's coming.” She smiled, hoping he'd joke with her.

“Probably not.” He tried to return her smile, but it was a weak attempt. “Look, I don't get this. I just don't really understand why you're in jail. Harvey explained the charges to me, we're not talking about a big crime here. Don't you just pay a fine and that's it?”