Ghost of Spirit Bear (3 page)

“Where are you going?” Cole asked, as they turned onto the sidewalk.

“First, to the Salvation Army store.”

“The Salvation Army?”

“Yeah, we have to get our ancestor rocks.” A sly smile parted Peter’s lips.

Curious, Cole followed, walking slowly to match Peter’s struggling gait. By the time they reached the Salvation Army store, Peter was nearly exploding with impatience. “Aren’t you going to ask me what we’re using for ancestor rocks?” he said.

Cole smiled. “You’ll tell me when you want to.”

“Bowling balls,” Peter announced, barging through the front door. “They have a whole mess of bowling balls in the back. Some of the chipped ones are only a dollar.”

Cole followed Peter to where a dozen bowling balls had been set against a wall. “But there are no hills around here to climb,” he said.

Peter picked up a ball and headed for the checkout counter. “Wanna bet?” he said.

Chapter 2

C
OLE CARRIED HIS
bowling ball awkwardly from the store and followed Peter. He felt shame each time Peter stumbled. It was no wonder that Mr. and Mrs. Driscal still thought of him as some kind of monster.

Peter didn’t slow until they reached an old abandoned apartment building on a back street. Condemned and Keep Out notices hung on the outside walls. “This is our mountain,” Peter declared, entering between the front doors that hung broken and twisted.

“The signs say ‘Keep Out,’” Cole said, following reluctantly.

“That’s just for people without bowling balls,” Peter said with a laugh.

“What if we get caught? That could get me in big trouble with Garvey.”

“Caught for what?” Peter said as he crossed the lobby to the stairwell. “Carrying bowling balls into an old building? We’re not robbers or terrorists.”

“No, we’re crazy!”

“Better crazy than lazy,” Peter said. He glanced down into the dark basement. “I wonder what’s down there.”

“I’m not finding out,” Cole said.

“Maybe some other day,” Peter said, starting up the stairwell.

“How many floors are there?” Cole asked, adjusting the heavy ball in his good arm.

“I counted ten from the outside,” Peter said, leading the way.

As they climbed the dark and musty stairwell, eerie shadows like ghosts fell on the walls. Finally, sweating, they reached the top landing. It was covered with broken glass. Cole glanced back down the stairs. “We didn’t take much time to think about our ancestors coming up.”

“We’ll do that tomorrow,” Peter promised. “Let’s roll our anger away now and get out of here.”

Cole hesitated. “If we roll these balls down the steps, it’s gonna wreck something.”

“You can’t wreck an old building that’s already wrecked,” Peter argued. “What do you want to do—drop them out the window instead?”

“That’s even worse—what if we hit someone?”

“You chicken,” Peter said, walking over to a broken window. “It’s just an empty lot—nobody’s down there.”

“Man, the balls will be going about a million miles an hour when they hit.”

“That’s the cool part.” Peter grinned. With a grunt, he hefted his ball out the window. Cole ran to Peter’s side in time to see the ball hit the ground with a dull thud. “It actually bounced.” Peter laughed. “Your turn.”

“You’re certified nuts,” Cole said, shoving his own ball out the window. “Let’s get out of here.” Quickly he turned and rushed down the stairs, not waiting to watch his ball hit.

As he ran out the front door, Cole half expected to see police cars waiting for them.

“Let’s go get the balls,” Peter said, heading around the building.

Cole followed, surprised to find the bowling balls had not broken apart. Depressions in the hard ground marked where each had landed. Cole picked up his ball and headed for the street. “I’m getting out of here,” he said.

“Let’s just leave the balls here,” Peter said. “Why carry them back and forth each day?”

Reluctantly, Cole agreed to go back inside where they set the bowling balls under the stairwell.

“Okay, now let’s get out of here,” Cole said. “This place gives me the creeps.”

“Tomorrow we’ll think about our ancestors and close our eyes to imagine our anger falling away,” Peter said as they walked toward home. “So, what time do you want to meet at the grocery store in the morning?”

“School starts at eight, so maybe about seven. Will that be okay with your dad?”

“Nothing’s okay with him.” Suddenly, Peter pointed. “Hey, look!”

Half a block ahead, Cole saw a flash of white disappear around the side of a building. He glanced at Peter in astonishment. “It looked like a Spirit Bear.”

Peter nodded in disbelief.

Both boys broke into a run. In seconds they rounded the corner, but all they found was an old homeless man, standing beside a shopping cart stacked with junk. His beard was choppy as if it had been trimmed with a knife, and even in the warm fall air, he had a ragged white blanket draped over his shoulders. As they watched, the old bum pulled out a piece of wood and began whittling.

Suddenly he glanced up and caught them staring. Quickly Cole and Peter retreated around the corner, then stopped and broke up laughing. “Jeez! It was just some tramp with a white blanket.” Peter chuckled. “How could we have thought it was a Spirit Bear?”

“Being in Alaska froze our brains.”

“I better get home,” Peter said. “I’ll see you in the morning.” He hesitated. “Hey, Cole.”

“What?”

“It’s fun being your friend.”

Later, when his mother got home from work, Cole told her about his plan to sit in the freezer each morning. “The lady said we could try it and see if it works.”

She looked at him dubiously. “Can’t you get rid of your anger without sitting in a freezer? How do other people do it?”

“Lots of people don’t.”

She hesitated as if struggling with her own thoughts. “Just make sure you’re no trouble to anyone.”

“It’ll be okay,” Cole assured her. Seeing the doubt in her eyes, he decided not to tell her yet about dropping bowling balls out of the abandoned building. She’d really have kittens over that one. He changed the subject. “Where does Dad live now?”

“Across town, closer to his job.” She took a broom out of the closet, avoiding Cole’s gaze. “Why?”

Cole shrugged. “Just wondering. He never even came to the airport to say good-bye when I left. Is he still mad at me?”

“I have no idea what your father thinks anymore,” she said, slamming the closet door.

“Is the divorce final?”

“It’s been final for months now,” she said, starting to sweep. “I won’t stop you from seeing your father if that’s what you want. But I don’t want to see him myself. He’s no longer the man I married twenty years ago.”

“None of us are what we used to be,” Cole said, following his mother as she moved through the house, cleaning. Each room flooded Cole’s mind with memories and emotions. The laundry room was where his father had turned the belt around and hit him with the buckle end for the first time. But it was also where they once played hide-and-seek.

His mother finally set down the broom. “Are you hungry?” she asked. “You look like a scarecrow—you’d have trouble getting wet in a shower.”

“It wasn’t like we didn’t have plenty to eat on the island,” Cole explained. “Eating just wasn’t important.”

“Maybe I need to go to an island,” she joked, patting her hips. “Why don’t I fix us a couple of hot dogs.”

Cole walked ahead of her back into the kitchen. “Let me—I want to show you something.”

Curious, she agreed.

Cole did not speak until the hot dogs had finished boiling. As he took them out of the water, he explained, “All of life is like these hot dogs. If we cook them simply to stay alive, then that is what happens. If we treat them special and share them, they become a celebration and a feast.”

“Did Garvey teach you that?”

Cole nodded, sprinkling each hot dog with cheese and garnishing them with diced tomatoes and pepper. As an afterthought, he lit a candle on the table.

His mother took a bite and chewed with a smile. For the first time Cole could remember, he saw pride and respect in her eyes. “You really did change on the island, didn’t you?” she said.

“Yes, I did. But I don’t want you to believe me because I say so. I want you to believe me because now my actions prove it.”

“You’re my son,” she said quietly. “I believe you because I love you.”

Cole had never liked being touched, but he leaned over and hugged his mother hard.

Cole awoke before his alarm sounded the next morning. After a quick breakfast, he headed out. At the grocery store, he met Peter coming from the opposite direction. “Must have been okay with your dad,” Cole said.

“He acted like I was trying to do something wrong.”

“He’s probably just mad at
me
.”

“It’s more than that,” Peter answered.

“What do you mean?”

“Even before you beat me up, he used to blame me for everything. I never did anything right. Now I
really
don’t make him happy.”

“Why is that?”

“’Cause now I
can’t
do anything right.”

“You do a lot of things right,” Cole said as they entered the grocery store.

“You boys are here plenty early. I just got here myself,” Betty, the dairy manager, said, greeting them.

“You sure this is okay?” Cole asked.

“Hey, nobody else is waiting to sit in the freezer. Don’t give me a chance to change my mind.”

The door to the cold room was heavy, with brass handles like a bank vault’s. The handles allowed the door to be opened from both sides. Cole and Peter sat on the plastic chairs, crowded between pallets of shrimp and frozen strawberries. Cole closed his eyes and tried to pretend he was soaking in a cold pond. He peeked and caught Peter peeking back. Breathing in deeply, Cole closed his eyes again and imagined icy water. The freezer air felt good on his skin. He pretended his mind was a calm pond with no waves, but no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of his father left ripples.

Fifteen minutes later, Cole stood stiffly, walked to the door, and pulled on the big brass handle to let himself out. He guessed that Peter would stay a little longer to prove that leaving was his idea. That was what he had often done in Alaska. He would eat an hour after Cole to prove he wasn’t hungry when he was really starved. Or he would stay up late, reading and fighting sleep with the lantern on to prove he wasn’t tired after a long hike. More than once, Cole had taken a book from Peter’s hands and turned off the lantern when he’d found his friend asleep.

Cole waited outside the freezer until the big door swung open and Peter came out shivering. “We must really be happy now!” Peter said.

“That was tropical compared to the pond,” Cole joked. “I almost got heat stroke.”

“Yeah,” Peter said, rubbing his red arms. “This is sunburn. I was sweating the whole time.”

“Thanks,” Cole called to Betty as they left. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she answered with a wave. “I hope you two have a happy day. Maybe we would have world peace if we put all the world leaders in a big freezer each morning.”

“Maybe,” Cole allowed.

As they walked the half mile to school, Peter seemed lost in thought. “Do you really think dropping bowling balls and sitting in a freezer will help us?” he asked suddenly.

“I don’t know. Maybe we should carve totems again or try dancing like on the island.”

“We could just go to a school dance.”

Cole shook his head. “That’s not the same.”

Peter agreed. “If we danced here like we did on the island, they’d think we were crazy. Remember how you used to run around with your arms out like an eagle?”

“That wasn’t as funny as when you used to jump straight up with your chest out like a breaching whale.”

“At least we danced to show what we had learned from the animals,” Peter said. “Here they just dance to act cool.”

Cole and Peter were still talking about the island as they reached the front lawn of the school. Suddenly a loud voice behind them shouted, “Hey, look, it’s the psycho and the gimp!”

Cole turned as a gang of five boys approached. He recognized several of them.

“They were the ones who hassled me yesterday,” Peter whispered.

Keith, the one leading the rest, was a big kid. Cole remembered kicking his butt in a fight two years earlier.

“Wh-wh-why don’t you guys just leave us alone,” Peter said.

“Wh-wh-why don’t you just shut your face, retard,” Keith said, giving Peter a shove. “We don’t like gimps.”

Fear showed in Peter’s eyes, and Cole stepped forward. “We haven’t done anything to you. Leave Peter alone,” he said, his hands tightening into fists.

“Oh, so now you’re telling us what to do,” said Eddy, a shorter boy with tight curly hair. “Bad mistake.” Eddy shoved Peter and sent him sprawling to the ground.

Cole’s heart pounded fast and his face felt hot. He tried to stay calm, but nothing could control what he was feeling. All his life he had been made to feel helpless. Now, seeing the bullies hurt his defenseless friend, Cole’s anger exploded. “Your mistake, Eddy,” he said, giving the boy a sudden shove that knocked him to the ground beside Peter.