Touching Spirit Bear (11 page)

A
FTER RETURNING TO
camp from his swim, Cole smeared lotion on his sore and blistered hands. A movement caught his eye as he pulled on the leather gloves to start work. “Hey, look,” he called, pointing across the bay. “Is that a coyote?”

Edwin and Garvey looked up at a ghostlike figure moving along the far shoreline. “It’s a wolf,” Edwin said. “A big one.”

The solitary gray animal loped along the shore, stopping every dozen strides to look around and sniff among the rocks. When it reached the stream, it lowered its head to drink, then bounded across the shallow rapids and disappeared into the thick underbrush.

“Tonight we dance the wolf dance,” Garvey announced.

Already Cole had begun framing the roof. He worked hard and deliberately without speaking. He wasn’t mad; he just didn’t feel like speaking to
anyone today. Edwin and Garvey sat watching, occasionally offering bits of advice. By midafternoon, Cole had finished covering the roof rafters with plywood and began nailing plywood to the wall panels. Every cut had to be made with a handsaw. The rain made the wood slippery and the ground muddy.

In the late afternoon, Cole rolled black tar paper over the roof and tacked it down. Now the cabin was ready for galvanized roofing sheets. As he struggled to lift the awkward sheets onto the roof, wind caught at them. One sheet bent in half. Edwin and Garvey refused to help, even though Cole cast a few hard glances their way. Finally darkness fell across the bay, and Cole quit work.

“Next year, every trace of your existence here will be removed from the island,” Edwin said. “Taking this structure back down will be your last chore before leaving.”

“I’ll just burn it,” Cole grumped, as he headed toward the tent. “I’ve had practice with that.”

“Where are you going?” asked Garvey.

“I’m hitting the sack.”

“Not so fast, Champ. We’re hungry, and you still haven’t danced the wolf dance.”

“I’m dog tired, and I’m not your slave. There’s cold cereal over there if you want some.” Cole
crawled into the green canvas tent.

“Have a good sleep,” called Garvey. “Tomorrow, we tear down the shelter and head back to Minneapolis.”

Cole poked his head back out the tent flap. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re finished here,” said Garvey, his voice hard and absolute. “There’s not enough room on this island for both you and your attitude.”

Cole’s thoughts raced. Garvey must be bluffing. But what if he wasn’t? Nothing was worth that gamble. Cole stumbled from the tent. “Okay, okay, I’ll fix you some supper.”

“It’s not about supper,” said Garvey. “It’s about the chip on your shoulder. You still think life is a free ride. You’re still blaming the world for everything and looking for the easiest way to get by. It’s only been two days, and already you’ve got your attitude back.”

“I’m sorry,” Cole stammered. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Don’t apologize to us,” Garvey said. “Apologize to yourself. It’s your life you’re betraying. Not ours.”

Cole crossed from the tent to the fire and fed wood quickly onto the flames. Not a word was spoken as he prepared instant chicken casserole mix for Edwin and Garvey. He made extra effort
to serve the food up nicely, but inside he didn’t feel much like celebrating. He felt frustrated and desperate. Edwin and Garvey ate in silence.

“I said I was sorry,” Cole said.

“You also said you had changed,” answered Edwin.

“Please don’t take me back.” Cole’s voice wavered. “I promise I’ll try harder. I’ll do anything you ask.”

Edwin stood and faced Cole across the fire. “It’s time to cut losses and send you home.”

“I didn’t mean what I said. I just—”

Edwin held up his hand. “Stop your mindless talking! Your words insult me! They’re just noise in the air—they don’t mean anything. Tomorrow morning, I want you to get up alone and soak. Then I want you to carry your ancestors and roll your anger away. When you return to camp, we’ll see what you’ve learned.” Edwin turned and headed for the tent. Garvey followed.

“Hey, aren’t we going to dance the wolf dance?” Cole asked as he strung the coolers up in the tree away from the bears.

“We’re going to bed,” said Garvey. “You’re the one who spotted the wolf. Do whatever you want—that’s your usual program.”

Cole watched as the men entered the tent, leaving him alone. The rain had let up, but a
lonely breeze flapped the tent awning and chilled the night air. Cole was bone weary as he walked to the water to clean dishes. The tide was letting out, and he tripped, skinning his shin on the rocks.

Limping back to camp, he stood beside the fire, nursing his bruised leg. He felt as alone and frustrated as when he had been left mauled on the rocks. Edwin and Garvey didn’t understand. They didn’t know what it was like to be this alone. This afraid.

As Cole stared into the flames, he thought about the wolf. The wolf was alone, too, without anybody to care for it. Cole shook his head—that wasn’t exactly true. Wolves often hunted in a pack. Together, they accomplished more than they could alone.

As Cole stared into the flames, he found himself crouching like a wolf. Slowly he inched forward around the flames, his head hung low as if prowling. Gradually he circled faster, pretending to run with the pack in pursuit of a wounded moose. He felt the power of the pack working together. The pack was powerful when they depended on each other. Any wolf that left the pack lost the protection of the other wolves and became weaker, no longer sharing the pack’s food.

Almost reluctantly, Cole finished his dance. Trying not to wake the others, he entered the tent and prepared for bed. As he squirmed into his sleeping bag, a voice surprised him.

“What did you learn?” Garvey asked.

“That you need the help of others, like a wolf pack.”

“Good night,” whispered Garvey.

“Good night,” said Cole.

Edwin coughed. “Have a good soak tomorrow.”

Cole woke often during the night, afraid he might oversleep. He kept lifting the tent flap and peering out. When it seemed the night would last forever, the blackness finally softened into a dull gray. Cole could see the point of rocks at the opening of the bay. He dragged himself out of his bag. It was time to go to the pond.

The rain had let up, so he rolled his clothes into a bundle and crawled outside the tent to dress. Even without rain, the air had a brisk edge to it. Cole couldn’t believe he was getting up this early to go sit in a freezing river. Maybe a jail cell wouldn’t be so bad. As he headed out from camp, he wondered if Edwin and Garvey had been serious about returning him to Minneapolis. He kicked a small rock into the water.

Cole reached the stream and splashed along the bank toward the pond. Under his arm he carried a towel. He was so lost in his thoughts, a low hanging branch smacked him hard in the forehead. He bent over, grimacing, momentarily dazed. Then he continued.

When he reached the pond, Cole hesitated. It would be easy not to soak or carry the rock. All he needed to do was make up a good story before returning to camp. But something told Cole that Edwin and Garvey couldn’t be lied to this morning. Immediately he stripped and waded into the icy water. The pool didn’t seem quite so cold as the first morning they had come, but still it took his breath away as he crouched and lowered himself in. He held his breath and breaststroked over to the rocky bench.

Hugging his arms tightly to his chest, he sat shivering and looking around at the water, the trees, and the dawn sky. His whole body was peppered with goose bumps. He wondered how long he could stay in the pool. Edwin had sat calmly, as if sitting in a warm bathtub.

Cole tried closing his eyes. Maybe it would help to concentrate on something else. He drew air slowly past his lips and let it escape the way he had seen Edwin breathe. Over and over, he breathed, trying to clear his mind. Gradually, he
quit hugging his chest and let his arms drift out and away from his body until they hung suspended in the water.

Cole found that if he sat completely still, his numb skin actually felt warm. He breathed deliberately, imagining himself as calm as the pond. Slowly his eyes opened, and he looked at the sky reflecting in the water. The floating clouds glowed red with the coming sunrise.

A flicker of movement in the reflection made Cole glance up, but then he realized the movement was a fish hovering near his knees. Holding his breath, Cole watched the silver fish. He wondered how the trout would taste for breakfast.

At the same instant he thought of eating the fish, it moved off and disappeared. Cole released his breath. Had he moved? Was that what scared the fish? Or had his thoughts exposed his presence? Surely the fish couldn’t sense his thoughts.

When Cole breathed again, he noticed that his breaths had cooled as if he were sucking on a menthol cough drop. He also noticed that in the water, his joints didn’t ache, nor did he feel pain in his blistered hands. His few thoughts seemed distant from his body. The cold water somehow suspended his whole existence.

When Cole finally left the pond, it was not because he had gotten too cold or impatient, but
because he had finished his soak. He drifted forward in the water until he could breaststroke gently, barely rippling the calm surface.

On shore, Cole toweled dry. He felt he had discovered something, but wasn’t sure what. All he had done was sit in cold water and try not to think, and yet that simple act had made him feel so calm.

After dressing, Cole walked to where Edwin’s ancestor rock had stopped when it rolled down the slope the day before. He moved stiffly from being so cold, but his joints didn’t ache as they had when he crawled from the tent early that morning. He paused before lifting the rock and slowly stretched his body, touching his toes, reaching for the sky, twisting at the waist, and leaning backward. All the while he kept breathing deeply. The deep breaths seemed to slow down his thoughts and make him calm. Cole wondered how Edwin had discovered this.

Cole kept stretching. Then he lifted the rock and started up the hill. He neither rushed nor dawdled. He moved deliberately, trying not to look ahead at how far he had left to go. Instead, he tried to imagine each step as a day in his life.

Whenever he stumbled, he imagined a day in his life when he had stumbled. There had been plenty of those days. But when he stopped to
catch his breath, he looked back and saw how far he had come. He
had
come a long way since smashing Peter’s head on the sidewalk. That seemed like another lifetime now. Cole wondered if the consequences of that moment would ever disappear.

Cole grimaced as he looked at the rock in his arms. He didn’t want to spend his life in a jail cell. He hugged the rock tightly to his chest. What a fool he had been. Things
could
be different.

At the top of the hill, Cole lowered the rock gently to the ground and stood without pushing it. He couldn’t stop wondering why he had been born and thinking about all the twisted events that had brought him to this moment. It seemed a bizarre dream to be standing alone on this rocky hillside in Alaska with a round stone at his feet, his mind filled with thoughts so totally different from anything he’d known running around on the streets back in Minneapolis. He felt like a new and a different person.

Slowly Cole let go of his ancestors and allowed the stone to become his anger. He knew that he had to quit blaming others, including his father, for his problems. As long as blame still existed, so would his anger. He had to let go, the same way he let go of this rock. With that thought, Cole sank to his knees and placed both
hands against the rock. With a grunt, he shoved it down the slope.

As the rock tumbled faster and faster, Cole felt his body growing lighter, and when the rock smashed to a stop at the bottom, he felt as if he could fly. Now it was time to go back to camp and talk to Garvey and Edwin.

Cole started down, looking ahead toward the pond. A movement caught his attention, and he spotted a large white shape disappearing into the tall trees below.

C
OLE’S HEART POUNDED
. Had he just seen the Spirit Bear? What else on the island could be that big and white? As he scrambled down the rocky slope, his thoughts raced. Did he dare tell Edwin and Garvey he had seen the Spirit Bear? They were already mad at him and would just think he was making up another story.

Back at camp, Edwin and Garvey sat beside a blazing fire, sipping cups of hot coffee. Neither spoke as Cole approached and pulled up a chunk of driftwood to sit on. After an awkward silence, Cole knew he had to say something. “I know that saying I’m sorry about my attitude isn’t enough, but I want you to know that I am sorry.” He paused. “When I was carrying the rock this morning, I realized that I won’t ever get over my anger unless I quit blaming others for everything.

That’s why I got mad the last two days. I was still blaming you guys.”

Edwin and Garvey exchanged glances. “So what made this morning any different?” Garvey asked.

Cole bit at his lip. “I just realized that I’m not a bad person. Nobody is,” he said. “People are just scared and do bad things. Sometimes people hurt each other trying to figure things out.” Cole gazed into the flames. “I hate what Dad does to me, but he must be just as scared as I am. He doesn’t want to be mean; he just doesn’t know any better.”

“I’m glad you can see that,” Edwin said. “But how do we know this isn’t just another con job? Do you really expect us to believe you’ve changed?”

“It doesn’t matter if you do,” Cole said. “I’ll be okay even if you take me back to Minneapolis.” As he spoke, he noticed the plastic tarp had blown off his wood stack, so he walked over and tucked it back around the pile.

“If you’re headed back to Minneapolis, why are you covering up the wood?” Edwin asked.

Cole allowed a smile. “Just in case you change your mind.”

Edwin motioned toward the shelter. “Well,
just in case
, you better finish the cabin.”

Cole wanted to tell them more about what he had learned that morning. Instead, he blurted,
“Thanks,” then rushed over to continue work on the shelter.

“Doesn’t matter, my foot,” muttered Edwin.

Grinning, Cole pulled on his tennis shoes and gloves, and picked up his hammer. He worked hard all day. By dusk, he had finished the roof and framed in the single window. He also made a heavy door and mounted it with metal strap hinges. For the door handle, he screwed on a deer antler he found near the stream. He cut a hole through the door so the dead bolt could be locked from both sides. All that remained was to install the small barrel stove.

Glowing with satisfaction, Cole stood back to admire his new shelter. “So what do you think?” he asked.

Edwin and Garvey left their seats by the fire and walked around the small cabin, inspecting it.

“You’ll need to keep a clean kitchen,” Garvey said. “A determined grizzly doesn’t need an open door to get in.”

“And you’ll need to do some caulking to tighten things up before winter,” Garvey said.

“I know, but did I build a good cabin?” Cole asked eagerly.

Edwin and Garvey both smiled. “Not bad for someone who didn’t care whether or not he stayed.” Garvey winked.

“Shouldn’t fall down,” Edwin allowed. “Tomorrow, I’ll show you how to run the stovepipe through the roof, and then we’ll be leaving. You’ll have the whole summer to build furniture.”

Cole’s body ached with weariness, and he stifled yawns as he prepared supper. Since this was the last meal with Edwin and Garvey, he fixed an extra good one. He boiled spaghetti, then fried onions and peppers to add in. While the sauce was simmering, he mixed some biscuits. A scrap of roofing tin propped up near the fire acted as a stove and baked the biscuits with its hot reflection.

“Where did you learn that trick?” Garvey asked.

Cole shrugged. “Just figured it might work.” He brought over a leftover chunk of plywood and set it on stumps to make a low table. Trying to think what else he could do to make the meal special, Cole went to his duffel bag in the tent. He dug to the bottom and found the at.óow. He returned and spread the colorful blanket across the plywood like a tablecloth. Last, he rummaged through the supplies until he found a candle to place in the middle of the low table. “Grub’s up!” he announced. “We’re having a feast.”

Throughout the meal, the cold breeze kept
blowing the candle out. Finally, Cole went to the cabin and brought back the glass mantel from his lantern and placed it over the candle. “This feast needs a candle,” he announced.

When they finished the spaghetti and biscuits, he handed out Snickers bars from the supply boxes. “They aren’t very fancy,” he said. “But they’re my favorite kind. If you eat them slow and close your eyes, you can pretend it’s dessert from some fancy restaurant.”

“Nothing wrong with this meal,” said Garvey.

Edwin nodded. “It’s good food. So, tell me, what dance should we dance tonight?”

“How about the Spirit Bear dance?” Cole said.

Edwin eyed him quizzically. “Did you see the Spirit Bear today?”

Cole hesitated before answering. “I saw something big and white disappear into the trees near the pond.”

“Was it the Spirit Bear?”

Cole wanted so badly to tell the truth. He nodded.

“Are you scared of being here alone with the bear after what happened?”

Cole shook his head. “I’m not scared of the bear, but I am scared of being alone.” He looked
at Edwin. “How did you feel when you were here?”

Edwin looked deep into the flames, his faraway gaze conjuring up memories. “At first, I was so lonely it hurt. But with time, I felt peaceful inside.”

With no further words, the three of them sat as if in a trance, staring into the flames until darkness fell. Finally Edwin looked up at the dark sky. “It’s a great night for a Spirit Bear dance,” he said to Cole. “You go first?”

“I need to think about it.”

Edwin shook his head. “When you dance, it’s your heart and soul speaking. You don’t need to think. If you saw the Spirit Bear, you go first.”

Hesitantly, Cole stood.

“In the village when we dance, we always beat a drum,” Edwin said. “Do you want me to keep a rhythm?”

Cole shrugged. “Sure, whatever.”

Edwin left the fire and returned holding two short chunks of driftwood. He sat down and began striking them together with a hollow knock. Again and again he hit the chunks of wood as if beating a drum. As the rhythm echoed down the shore and out across the water, Cole began moving. He let the story of his first visit to the island become his dance. Approaching the
flames, then fading away into the dark, he appeared and disappeared. Each time he reappeared, he moved closer to the fire as if threatening to attack Edwin and Garvey. He hunched over, his movements ghostlike.

Then he flung himself to the ground beside the flames, clawing and kicking. In his mind, he relived the mauling. He grabbed at twigs and broke them as if they were bones. Grimacing on the ground, he heard Edwin beating the pieces of driftwood in a hypnotic rhythm. Cole raised his head and spit into the dark; then he pretended to lick up the spit. Last, he reached out as if touching the Spirit Bear. He froze in the touching position for a long moment, then stood and walked proudly off into the dark.

When Cole returned to the fire, he sat down.

Edwin handed the chunks of driftwood to Cole. “That was a good dance. Now you keep the rhythm.”

Awkwardly at first, Cole knocked the pieces of driftwood together the way Edwin had, with a regular beat. It felt like the beating of his heart. Edwin stood and began to dance. He stalked proudly around the fire, sniffing at the air. Slowly, he came up behind Cole and Garvey. When they turned to look at him, he backed away. Again and again he repeated this movement until they no
longer turned to look back. Then he came and knelt in front of them. That was how he ended his dance.

Cole kept striking the wood together for Garvey as he stood for his turn. Garvey started his dance lying on the ground as if he were asleep by the fire, then slowly awoke and sat up. He rubbed his stomach and licked his lips to show his hunger. Then he rose and moved around the flames, eating berries off imaginary bushes and catching fish from an imaginary stream. After several minutes, he stuck out his belly and scratched at it to show he was full.

Cole couldn’t help but smile at his parole officer. This was the same man he had hated back in Minnesota. How could he have ever hated him?

Garvey spun around as if in surprise and gazed back at Edwin and Cole. He began prowling back and forth, back and forth, moving closer. He looked at Cole and placed a finger to his lips. Cole stopped drumming. In silence Garvey moved forward until he stopped less than a foot away. He crouched silently as if to touch his toes, then…“Boo!” he shouted, springing up, arms extended.

Edwin’s stump tipped over, and he fell backward in surprise. Cole nearly choked catching his breath. Garvey laughed harder and harder until
tears rolled down his cheeks. “Dances don’t always have to be serious,” he said. “Dances can be fun, too. Or they can be celebrations.”

“You turkey!” Cole said, laughing himself. When he regained his composure, he grinned. “I understood both of your dances.”

“And we understood yours, too,” Garvey said.

Once more the three sat staring into the flames, each lost in thought. Finally Edwin stood. “Let’s get some sleep. Tomorrow begins a new journey.”

When Cole arose the next morning to go to the pond, so did Edwin and Garvey. “Mind if we go with you?” Garvey asked, as if he needed permission.

“That’d be great,” said Cole.

Together the three headed out single file in the gathering dawn. Although this was only his fourth trip to the pond, Cole proudly led the way. When they arrived, he didn’t hesitate. He stripped off his clothes and waded directly into the cold water. He found that by breathing deeply, he avoided gasping as the water rose around his chest.

He had already reached the rocks when Edwin and Garvey waded in. Edwin showed no reaction as he submerged, but Garvey caught his
breath at the cold water. “Now I see why you two can’t wait to get here each morning,” he gasped.

“It gets easier each time,” Cole said.

“Too bad I won’t be around to find that out,” Garvey joked.

The three sat in silence, looking upstream to where the water rushed through the narrow gorge. A cloud of light mist drifted over the river. Cole closed his eyes and ignored the men beside him. It wasn’t the same having others here. Being alone was what made this place so special. Cole breathed deeply, once again feeling the icy numbness creep into his body. He opened his eyes once to see if Edwin and Garvey were ready to leave, then reminded himself that he would leave only when he felt it was time.

And finally it was time. With a final breath, Cole opened his eyes and slid off the shelf. Edwin and Garvey remained, eyes closed, but Cole felt no obligation to prove anything by waiting for them. When he reached the shore, he toweled off. He was half dressed by the time Edwin and Garvey left the water.

“So who’s carrying the ancestor rock this morning?” Cole joked.

Edwin and Garvey eyed him without laughing.

“I was just joking,” Cole said. “I’ll carry it.”

By the time they finished climbing the hill
and rolling away anger, a bright sun had broken through the clouds. They hiked back to camp laughing and joking as if they were old friends. Nobody ever would have guessed that this morning marked the beginning of Cole’s yearlong banishment.

Edwin showed Cole how to install the stovepipe through the roof, and then he and Garvey prepared to leave. They took down their tent and loaded their belongings into the boat. Still they joked and kidded lightheartedly. When all was finally ready, the joking stopped. Garvey pulled out a small package and presented it to Cole.

Cole opened it to find a large hunting knife in a leather sheath. “Thanks,” he said.

“That knife is like life,” Garvey said. “It can destroy you or help you heal.”

“How can a knife help me heal?” Cole asked.

“Use it to carve. If you discover what lies inside the wood, you’ll discover what’s inside of you. It helps you to heal.”

“But you can never heal completely until you discover one thing,” Edwin said thoughtfully.

“What’s that?”

Edwin allowed a rare smile. “If I tell, you can’t discover it.”

As Edwin and Garvey crawled into the alu
minum skiff, Cole called, “Don’t forget to put the spark plug back in.”

“It’s been back in for two days,” Edwin said, giving the starter rope a sharp pull. As the motor roared to life, Cole helped push the bow off the rocks. “I’ll be out to check on you in a few days,” Edwin shouted.

“I’ll be okay,” Cole shouted back, wishing he believed his own words. He watched the small boat until it disappeared from view. Standing alone on the shoreline, he couldn’t help but remember how angry he had been the last time he watched the skiff leave. This time he felt only fear, and he admitted it. His palms were sweaty, and his throat tightened. If he screwed things up this time, there would be no next time.