Jackie's Wild Seattle (10 page)

I woke before sunrise. This was it. For three days running, Neal had stayed at Liberty's side, talking her ear off to no avail. Now the day had come. Liberty was going to have to be put down.

I checked in on Cody and found him still asleep. I dressed quickly and went straight to Liberty's pen. There was Uncle Neal, sitting with his eagle.

Neal's eyes were moist. It broke my heart to see that bird still plopped there. How hard would it have been, I wondered, after all these weeks, simply to stand up? “Today's the day, isn't it?” I said.

“You heard?”

“Yeah, we've known. Does she have all day at least?”

Neal nodded but didn't speak.

After breakfast I took a call about a hurt raccoon in Woodinville. The man on the phone wouldn't listen to the few questions we always asked, like “Describe the condition of the animal.”

“That'll be obvious enough when you get here,” he snapped. “I told you, it's hurt.”

“Where's the raccoon?”

“In my backyard. Are you coming or not?”

I told Uncle Neal about it. I was sure he'd want to stay with Liberty, but he surprised me. “Let's go,” he said grimly.

We went. It turned out to be easy enough to find the raccoon, even without Sage. It was under the man's deck, in agony, crying something awful. The man was a snappy dresser, every hair in place. He was wearing a sweatband; his head was ringed with embroidered golf balls. “What happened?” Neal asked.

“Just kill it,” the man told him. “I have a ten-fifteen tee time.”

“What happened?” Neal repeated firmly.

“Look at this,” the man said. “Look at my hot-tub lid. Pure maliciousness. Maybe the rest will learn to stay out of my yard.”

“You need to tell me what happened to the raccoon,” Neal insisted, plainly irritated.

The man's forehead was breaking out in a sweat. It was becoming obvious why he wore a headband. “I hit it with a hockey stick, okay? I broke my son's hockey stick, and maybe the miserable creature's back. Just do whatever you do—drag it out and put it down.”

Uncle Neal got on his knees and peeked under the deck. “From the looks of it, you did break the raccoon's back. I'm afraid I can't help you, though. I'm not licensed to euthanize animals. Not that I would. Call Animal Control.”

“The dogcatchers? Thanks for nothing. Now I'm definitely going to be late. And look what the deer have done to my fruit trees, will you?”

To the side of Uncle Neal's eye, a vein was throbbing. I was afraid he was going to blow a fuse. Voice loaded with tension, Neal said, “From the looks of it, this is a new subdivision.”

“Of course it is. So what?”

“Not very long ago it was these animals' home. That raccoon's creek didn't use to run through a concrete culvert. It knew there was water inside your hot tub, even with the lid closed. Just for a second, picture how
you
would like it if somebody bulldozed your community and
your
home. Left you nowhere to live, even in your own backyard.”

The man flushed bright red. “You're talking nonsense, mister.”

“I understand it. Why can't you?” The voice was Cody's. He'd been standing back, horrified by the nonstop wails from the injured raccoon. “What if giant raccoons destroyed your house and then broke your back with a giant hockey stick?”

The man looked at him strangely. “What are you people, lunatics? I think you should leave now. Mister, I don't know what planet you came from, but you're teaching your kids utter foolishness.”

“We're his niece and nephew,” I corrected him, “and proud of it. Maybe you should loosen your headband, sir. You must be wearing it too tight.”

I couldn't believe I'd just said that. The man was speechless.

Uncle Neal took a deep breath. “Next time, just call me before you do anything, okay?”

We were about to go when Cody burst into tears, just melted down. I got down on my knees, held him, and said, “What is it, Cody?”

“I can't stand the way it's crying,” he blubbered.

“I know, I know.”

His chest was heaving like it might explode. “Can't we at least take it to a vet?”

Uncle Neal gave in. I put on the heavy coat, the welding gloves, and squeezed under the deck with the net. The raccoon hissed at me, then snarled viciously. “I'm not the enemy,” I said. “I've come to help.”

I snaked the net forward and tried to work it over the raccoon's back, but there wasn't any clearance between the animal and the deck. It squirmed away, dragging itself in pain.

I cussed under my breath, bellied forward, and tried again. This time I got the net over the raccoon. I started backing up, or trying to. “Pull me by my legs, Cody, if you can reach them.”

That helped. I backed out of there dragging the net with me and the raccoon inside it. Cody ran for a carrier. I had to handle the raccoon. It was growling, snarling, and spitting. It wanted to take my head off and I had to hang on tight. It bit the welding gloves again and again. It was horrible to hear an animal in such pain. The golfer was on his way out. “Close the gate behind you,” he called.

It was an eerie ride to the vet. The raccoon was in the very back. We couldn't see it, but we sure could hear it. Sage reacted with her ears to every wailing cry. Cody was chewing on his lower lip.

Suddenly there was no sound at all from the back, and Neal said, “Thank goodness.”

We caught an early lunch at a Wendy's. We were so subdued. Some small birds, a bunny, a few squirrels, and a
snake had died in the ambulance, but they'd done it without a whimper. My mind kept going back and forth between the raccoon and Liberty. Horrible day.

Back at the van, the pager had a number for us to call back. A black bear cub with no mother had been spotted near Coupeville, on Whidbey Island. We took off like a shot. The drive would take two, three hours, depending on the traffic. Cody got out his Game Boy. Another cub for Tyler, I kept thinking. Things were looking up.

We drove north on I-5 halfway to Canada, turned west, then crossed the bridge over Deception Pass onto Whidbey Island. At Deception Pass, the tide was going out like rapids in a river. We would have stopped to look, but we were on the track of a bear.

But by the time we got to Coupeville the cub had taken off. With jets from a nearby navy station roaring overhead, we beat the blackberry thickets, but no luck. Even Sage couldn't find the bear. On our way back we stopped at the tourist pullout to look at Deception Pass. The tide had turned, the waters below were relatively calm, and the sailboats were passing through in both directions. All of a sudden somebody yelled, “Anybody here from Jackie's Wild Seattle? Jackie's Wild Seattle?”

A young couple from Oregon had seen the ambulance in the parking lot, run to the overlook, and found us. Within minutes we were following their van south on Whidbey Island again, this time bound for the cliffs near Ebey's Landing. We were after another orphan, a baby harbor seal.

“Its mother probably left it on the beach while she went fishing,” Neal had told them at first. “She'll be back.”

The woman had shaken her head emphatically. “We have
a good pair of binoculars. The baby seal has wounds all over its back, like a dog got ahold of it.”

At the end of our drive we were standing on the top of the cliff. The baby seal, sixty or seventy feet below, was on one of the few pockets of sand along the narrow and extremely rocky beach.

“Tide's coming in,” the woman fretted.

“Sure hope you can find a way down,” the man said as they turned to go. “There doesn't appear to be one real close. I wish we could stay, but we're already late.”

We couldn't find a route down in either direction. We lost ten minutes trying to find one. Back where we started, we peered over the edge again. Fingers of white water were reaching for the baby seal. “It's going to drown,” Cody wailed.

“This is so frustrating,” I said to Neal. “I keep thinking about that climbing rope in one of your duffel bags. I only wish you still had your climbing stuff.”

Neal ran his hand over his skull, rubbed his chin where his beard used to be. “I still have my stuff, from my search-and-rescue days. Once in a while I use it for an animal rescue. But if you're thinking what I think you're thinking, let's not get carried away.”

I crept close to the edge for another look at the features on the cliff below. It wasn't a smooth face by any means. The hard chalky-colored rock had a lot of character to it, ins and outs and cracks and nobs and ledges, and it had a bit of slope to it, which was good. All in all it looked like a free-climbing playground. “Got a climbing harness and a figure eight, Uncle Neal?”

“Got those,” he answered reluctantly.

“Is it a standard length rope?”

“Fifty meters. A hundred and sixty-five feet.”

“So I can rappel down no problem.”

“Maybe, but that's when you
would
have problems. We can't haul the seal up in the carrier. There's no time for all that. The tide's coming in fast, and I'm good as useless up top with only one hand.”

“What about that old canvas pack of yours? I can bring the seal up on my back. And I can guess what your problem number two is—me climbing back up without you being able to belay me. Got an ascender, anything I can use for protection on the way up?”

He seemed surprised I was thinking like a climber and talking the lingo.

“I've got jumars,” he said reluctantly, “but I doubt you've ever gotten into that at your climbing camp, even the second summer. That's big wall stuff.”

“I used jumars last summer, the last day. Lake Placid Search and Rescue was practicing jugging up a rock face, and two of us were invited to join them. All I'll need for protection is one of those jumars…. C'mon, Uncle Neal, that baby seal is running out of time.”

“I dunno, maybe we should back off. It's just that I've never seen you on a rope before, Shannon.”

“She's an ace!” Cody declared.

I laughed. “Like you'd know, Cody. Uncle Neal, I can at least try. There's no end of holds. Give it a look.”

Neal gave
me
a look instead, took my measure. He seemed to find something, maybe the look in my eyes, that finally turned his frown into a grin.

“Uncle Neal,” I said, “I really believe I can do it. Granted, I haven't climbed a rope with a seal on my back. Will that seal chew my ears off?”

“Doubtful,” Neal said, “but not guaranteed. They do look good on you.”

“Soooo?”

“Sure would be something to rescue that seal.”

“Alrighty then.”

Neal backed the ambulance toward the edge and stopped about twenty feet short. I tied off to the frame of the van, and Neal inspected my knot. He wasn't taking anything for granted, which was fine by me. I stepped into the climbing harness and snugged it just so. We practiced rigging the jumar for the climb back up. Neal threw the rope over the cliff.

Cody handed me Neal's ancient canvas pack. I tossed the jumar inside with a length of webbing, put the pack on, loosened the shoulder straps, then fastened them across my chest with a carabiner so the pack couldn't fall off my shoulders. Neal's figure eight was exactly the kind of rappelling device I'd used before. I attached it to the harness below my belly button with a locking 'biner. Remembering from my summers at climbing camp, I slowly, carefully fed the rope through the figure eight and clipped it to the locking 'biner.

Neal was watching all this like a hawk. Rappelling is basically easy, but if you get careless and make a mistake in your prep, it's also an easy way to die. When I was all done Neal checked it over once more. “I'm impressed,” he announced finally. “You're good to go, Shannon. You're on rappel.”

“Rappelling,” I answered, like climbers are supposed to do. With that, keeping the rope taut, I backed toward the edge.

When I got there I leaned way back. That's the whole thing, not to be afraid of that unnatural position. A look over my shoulder and I saw the surf break right on the seal. The retreating wave pulled the seal away from the base of the cliff and down onto a gravelly spit between boulders. Another wave that big and the animal would be out to sea and drowning.

Leaning way back, I started feeding rope through the figure eight and went over the edge with small steps. I got a little sideways but adjusted with my legs and kept my balance. Cody was big-eyed. He'd never seen me on a rope before. “This is major,” I heard him mutter.

“Beee
goood,”
I told him in my best E.T. imitation, and continued walking down the cliff.

When I glanced up again, I was already halfway down. Cody and Neal were both on their bellies looking down at me, huge grins on their faces. Sage, with her tongue hanging out, was watching too. “How's it feel?” Neal called.

“I'm pumped,” I called back. “It's good to be back on the rock. I could do this all day!”

“My sister is the greatest sister in the world,” I heard Cody say as I dropped some more. I pretended I was out of earshot.

My feet hit the beach. I got off the rope and quickly looked around for the seal. “To your right!” Neal called, and I waded that direction, trying to keep my balance on some slippery kelp. The surf surged around my knees and rocked me, but I stayed upright. This was a scary place to be at high tide. I thought I'd lost the seal for sure when I saw it being carried past me. I reached out and grabbed it.

The baby looked up at me, its huge liquid eyes running with pus. Some of the whiskers were stuck together. It moaned. Suddenly the smell hit me. It was sickly sweet at first but after a few seconds the odor was distinctly putrid. There were deep bites and gashes all over the seal's back, along its sides, too. I turned and waded back with it to the base of the cliff.

“How is it?” Neal called down.

“Pretty bad. Wounds are infected.”

“Jackie can give it antibiotics.”

“Hear that?” I said to the seal. “No worries. We're going to fix you up.”

I set the seal down in the shallow water and pinned it against the cliff with my feet as I got ready for the climb. I put the figure eight away, then brought out the jumar and attached it to the locking 'biner with about eighteen inches of webbing, so the jumar was in front of my chest. Then I fed my end of the climbing rope through the jumar, which was going to be my protection on the way back up. It would suddenly catch and hold tight if I fell.

As fast and as gently as I could, I worked the pack up and around the seal. It was too weak to put up much resistance.

Pack on my back, I clipped the straps together across my chest with a carabiner. I was ready to climb, but the baby seal was heavier than I would have guessed.

It was only then that it hit me: I'd never climbed with weight on my back before. It was going to make a difference, a big difference.

With a hissing rush, a wave caught me all the way to my thighs. I held tight to the cliff and barely avoided going down. The wave pulled back with a rush. The next one would have me swimming. “Time to climb,” I said under my breath. I reached for my first holds and boosted myself up with my legs.

Less than ten feet up, I felt the strength pouring out of me like somebody had suddenly pulled the plug. Uh-oh. What did this seal weigh, twenty-five, thirty pounds?

I scanned for the best route. Not just for my next move, but a series of moves that would lead me up and out.

Up I went, reaching for my spots with outstretched fingertips and feet. Whenever possible, I freed a hand and slid the jumar up the rope. If I fell, its teeth would grab the rope, and that was a good feeling.

I looked over my shoulder. The baby seal's face was right next to mine. It was too weak to bite even if it wanted to. The stench was awful. I thought I might be sick.

Man, this was hard. My legs were screaming. No question, it was the hardest thing I'd tried to do in my life. Maybe it was going to be too hard. My forearms were all pumpy; it felt like they were going to cramp.

Get the pack off my back? Drop the seal? Maybe I should. I had such a long way to go and this was too exhausting.

“How you doing?” Neal called.

I found a little ledge for my feet, good handholds, and took the opportunity to rest. “Okay,” I panted.

I struggled up as soon I felt some strength come back, but soon got stopped by a difficult spot. I shouldn't have
come this way. To the right was better.

I worked my way right. Here was a route, but this was getting way hard. I might as well have been carrying a load of rocks.

Maybe I would have to give it up.

Maybe I would.

Suddenly I was picturing Neal with his thumb about sliced off and refusing to give up on that red-tailed hawk.

I just had to dig deeper.

“Go, Shannon, you can do it!” Cody called.

“I'm not sure about that,” I muttered, not that he could hear me.

With every ounce of strength I had, I kept climbing. To make things worse, the weight of the seal kept shifting from side to side, and the sick baby kept whimpering. It was hard to bear, how much pain it was in.

“Shannie's a lot stronger than she looks,” I heard from above. This from my little brother as my muscles were cramping and I was sucking wind.

“Shannon, you're nearly halfway up,” Neal called. I could hear it in his voice. He knew the real score, how much trouble I was having.

I looked up and said, “This is tougher than I thought. I might have to drop the pack.”

“Take it one step at a time,” Neal said. “Drop it if you have to. No question in my mind, though, you can do it.”

I could tell he wasn't just saying it. My uncle really meant it. Unlike me, he had known how hard this was going to be from the first. And he thought I could do it.

That meant something. It meant a lot.

I thought about everything Neal could still do even though he was sick, and here I was, healthy as a horse. It
would feel pretty incredible if I could bring this seal up to the top of the cliff.

My mind cleared. Think how strong you are, I told myself, not how weak. Quit looking up at those guys on top. Keep your eyes on your route, on your holds. Close your eyes when you're resting, stay calm, stay steady.

There, that feels better. Listen to the wind, the ocean, the gulls. Who would have thought you'd ever be in a place like this doing anything like this?

Somehow I kept climbing. Finally their faces were in my near vision. Fifteen feet to go, and I was running on empty. “You're nearly here,” Neal said.

“I've made a discovery. Seals are made out of lead.”

“Don't give up,” Cody said.

“No way,” I told him. “I'm just resting.”

It was time for the last push, at an angle up to the left. “I'm coming up,” I told them. “Nothing's stopping me now.”

I don't know what it was—adrenaline, I guess. My booster rockets kicked in. Finally I lifted myself one last time and felt the grip of Neal's good hand like a skyhook. I was on top and so was the seal.

I stayed on my hands and knees while they got the pack and the seal off. Then I collapsed onto my back, panting. I rolled my eyes one way and then the other. The sky swam. The earth felt so good and solid underneath me.

“Awesome,” Uncle Neal said. “Happy, Shannon?”

“Yeah, happy and exhaustionized.”

“That's not a word,” Cody objected.

“It is now.”

We transferred the moaning seal baby to a carrier and sped off. Neal said she was real sick. I was so pumped about her living, I didn't see how I could stand it if she didn't, and
that's when I remembered Liberty.

It was four o'clock in the afternoon. By the time we got back home, well, I didn't even want to think about it.

Cody fell asleep on the drive back. Neal stopped for gas at Mount Vernon. I went to the back of the van to check up on the seal. She wasn't moving. At first I told myself she was just resting, but I knew better. She was dead.

I wouldn't have told Neal, but he came around to look. Cody woke up and came back too. None of us was even able to cry. “It's not fair,” Cody said. “She was just a baby.” You do everything you can, I thought, but sometimes death still wins.

The ride back was real quiet. Neal had to be thinking about Liberty, and I was fretting about my parents. It had been almost two weeks since we'd heard from them.

When we got back to the center I got on the computer right away. Cody was looking over my shoulder. There it was, a new message from my mother.

How I wished Cody hadn't been there. After a paragraph of chitchat, my mother casually dropped a bomb. My father had gone into Afghanistan.

I thought about closing down the message real fast. A glance over my shoulder and I could see the damage had already been done. The little bugger always reads the last part first.

 

Not to worry, Cody and Shannon. Your father has been at a refugee camp in Afghanistan for about ten days now. He'll be fine, the war was over last December. The peacekeeping forces are right there at the refugee camp where he's working. They really, really needed him. We'll be home in a month. Don't you worry, okay?

Cody started to cry. I was numb. I had to find a way to reassure him. How was it my parents had thought I was up to this job?

“Afghanistan,” Cody whispered. “I can't believe it. It's full of land mines there, everybody knows that.”

“Not in the refugee camps, Cody.”

“Afghanistan is where they trained the terrorists, the ones that flew the planes into the World Trade Center.”

“I know, but they're history.”

“No they aren't, some of them are still hiding.”

He was right, of course. There was no point in saying he wasn't. I put my arm around him—he was trembling—and said, “We just have to keep the faith.”

My baby brother collapsed into my arms, his head against my chest. Hold him, I thought, hold him close. He needs his mother, and I'm the next best thing.

Suddenly we heard our names being called, ours and Neal's. It was Jackie, and this was urgent, whatever it was.

Still dazed, we stepped outside the office. What now? Then I remembered Liberty. Not more bad news. I didn't think we could take it.

Neal was coming out of the house. He slowly closed the door behind him. Jackie rushed over and embraced him. “Neal, you aren't going to believe this.” There were tears in her eyes, tears of joy.

“What is it?” he asked cautiously.

“Liberty's on her feet! Come see.”

Cody and I followed them as Jackie took the shortcut through the service gate. Sure enough, Liberty was standing up. The eagle looked so different, so much bigger and so puffed out, so alive. She was walking around the big flying enclosure, looking all around.

Neal went in and sat down on the gravel. His bald eagle walked right over to him, and they looked into each other's eyes. They were nose to beak, that close.

“I've seen a lot,” Jackie said, shaking her head. “This is right up there. Death was winning, no doubt about it. But not this time. Not this time.”

I squeezed Cody's hand and he squeezed back. He looked up at me. “Everything is going to be okay, Shannie, isn't it?”