Jackie's Wild Seattle (13 page)

I ran into the house, and that's where I found Cody. He was in the kitchen offering Sage a Swedish meatball. Sage nosed it, pushed it around in Cody's hand, then gently took it into her mouth. Cody touched the back of her head ever so softly, then sort of scratched it, and Sage didn't pull away. She was actually letting Cody pet her.

“Victory,” Cody said in a loud whisper. His eyes were popping out of his head. “I figured I had to find a way to prove myself to her, and I did it. She knew I believed in her, that she could find the raccoon. That's the
whole reason
she thinks I'm okay now.”

“You sure it wasn't the meatball?”

“Shan, we're lucky we don't have a dad like Tyler's.”

“No kidding.”

“Kickstand could tell he was a bad man.”

“You really think so?”

“I'm pretty sure. Do you believe that animals can tell if a
disaster is going to strike? In my book, it says sometimes dogs can tell that an earthquake is coming.”

“I've heard about that. Sure, I believe that's for real.”

My brother's forehead was wrinkled with some Deep Thought. He hesitated, then spit it out. “Do you think it's possible to make something happen just by thinking about it?”

“Sure. I think I'm going to milk Jackie's goats, and then I do it.”

“Not like that,” Cody said impatiently. “I mean, you wish something bad would happen, and then it does.”

“You lost me. Whatever it is, just tell me.”

“It would sound…crazy.”

“Try me.”

“Okay, that morning the disaster happened…September eleventh?”

Finally,
I thought. Finally he's ready to talk about it. “Go on, Cody.”

“Okay, Joey and his mom and I got there when the first tower was already burning. We heard that an airplane had hit it. I stood there wishing I had seen it happen.”

“So?”

“Just listen.” His voice was trembling and he was about to cry. “That's when I started hoping that the
other
tower would get hit by an airplane, so I could see that. Then it actually happened. I saw the other airplane coming, it hit the building, I saw the explosion. I got exactly what I wished for. Who says I didn't make it happen?”

I grabbed him and held him close. “
I
do, Cody. I say you didn't have anything to do with it. Is that what you've been thinking?”

“I can't help it. I know it's weird. It's like it was my fault.”

“Cody, it wasn't your fault, okay? Just stop thinking that. When you first got there, it was more like you were watching a video game or a movie or something. It hadn't sunk in yet how real it was. You weren't wishing any of that would
really
happen. The whole thing was caused by the terrorists, not by some idea running through your head. If you had been sitting on the toilet reading a comic book, it would have happened anyway.”

The word
toilet
had him smiling weakly. “Didn't Uncle Neal make Liberty stand up by wishing and hoping she would?”

“No, he did it by spending all that time with her.”

Cody shook his head. “I can't help it, I still feel like something bad is going to happen.”

“To Dad, in Afghanistan?”

“Closer.”

“Mount Rainier's going to blow up?”

“Closer.”

“Have you been dreaming about being in the mountain lion's pen? You're going to go inside Sasha's pen and accidentally lift your arms above your shoulders?”

With a painful smile, my little brother said, “I've been having bad dreams again. It's weird that you just said that about Sasha. She was in my dream last night. She'd gotten out of her pen and was running all around Seattle. When we caught up to her she was up at the top of the Space Needle, on that ring outside the windows.”

“That's not such a bad dream. I kind of like it. She would have been hard to catch, though.”

“That wasn't the disaster. It was what happened after that.”

“Go ahead, tell me, Cody.”

“Uncle Neal was missing. We found him at that place where he used to live, you know, at the beach. Uncle Neal was sick, real sick. I mean, he was…dying.”

I was so stunned I couldn't think of a word to say. I wondered if I should tell him the truth, right then, but I held back. Instead I said, “Did somebody tell you he was sick? Somebody at the center?”

“Kind of.”

“What do you mean, ‘kind of'?”

“Kickstand did. He's who told us to go to the beach house to find Uncle Neal. Pretty weird, eh?”

“That's what dreams are for, so you can sort through stuff.”

“Can I sleep with you tonight, Shannie? I won't kick you or anything. When Sage let me pet her, I was so happy, but now I feel so sad.”

“As long as that grubby blankie doesn't come with.”

“I won't need it if I'm with you. Tyler's dad was scary, wasn't he?”

“Yes, but don't worry about it. He isn't thinking about us.”

I didn't sleep much that night, and not only because of Cody kicking like he was swimming laps. However he'd done it—maybe it was something like animal intelligence—his little overactive mind had sensed what was happening with Uncle Neal. Every way I looked at it, the time had come. It might as well be me, and it might as well be now.

I waited until after breakfast, then asked my brother if he'd like to take a walk with me down by the creek. When he got to his favorite place, we sat down together and I told him about the cancer. I explained how I'd heard, at the hospital on the Day of the Hawk. I told him all about my talk with Jackie. Cody listened to all of it still as a statue.

“Do Mom and Dad know?” he asked.

I told him they didn't. Cody sat down in the grass and heard me the rest of the way through, up to Uncle Neal being tested again on the twenty-fifth, right after we flew home. I told him that as far as I was concerned, Uncle Neal had already beaten the cancer, he was just waiting to find out. We weren't going to tell him we knew, I said, so Uncle Neal could concentrate on getting well and enjoy the rest of our visit.

I learned a lot about my baby brother that morning, mainly that he was no baby. Cody got it. He completely got it. I wanted to take him in my arms and hug him, but I had a feeling I shouldn't, not right now anyway. I could tell he was mustering up all his bravery, putting all his energy into being strong for Uncle Neal.

We started back. Jackie was expecting us for fresh-baked muffins. On our way Cody said, “Forget what I said yesterday, about something bad happening. Uncle Neal's going to be fine. You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because we would miss him too much.”

Later that morning when I was taking out the trash I discovered something familiar in the Dumpster. It was Cody's
Book of Disasters.

I put down the lid thinking about what this meant. When I looked up I saw Tyler walking up the driveway with a brutal bruise over his cheekbone. “Don't ask,” he told me.

“I'm asking,” I insisted.

He turned away. “I fell at the shop, okay?”

Tyler was different after that. Stiff. Sullen. We didn't meet at the talking stump any more.

It was late in the first week of August. With seventeen days to go I was catching animals hand over fist. I'd picked up a few disposable cameras and was taking pictures of the animals to show my parents. The latest notables were a Canada goose and a river otter. On our way home with the otter, the warning lights on the dash came on. The van trailed a cloud of blue smoke all the way to Cedar Glen.

Tyler was getting off work as we drove in. He'd been avoiding me like the plague. I asked him if he'd take a look under the hood and he said with attitude, “Why doesn't Jackie just buy another one?”

He was just so bristly. I said, “What makes you think she could?”

“Because she's rich.”

“I'm not sure it makes any difference,” I said back, “but I don't think that's true.”

Neal was on his way into the office. “Uncle Neal,” I called.

Neal turned back and headed our way. Tyler had been steering clear of him and Liberty, too. “What's up?” Neal said.

“Tyler's wondering about Jackie. If she's rich, that is.”

Neal's eyebrows went up. He touched his heart and said, “In some ways, maybe, but not in her wallet. This place is strictly hand-to-mouth, isn't it obvious? She's always on the verge of going under.”

Tyler's face was aggressive; his voice was too. “Then how did she get started?”

“With eight baby ducks in her garage, back in north Seattle. People have helped her out along the way because they like what she's doing. You know that the vets are donating their time, same as the volunteers. That's all there is to it. If it weren't for all the people who give ten or twenty dollars a month, there'd be no way.”

“Then what about that van? The ambulance? My dad said that's a thirty-thousand-dollar vehicle.”

Neal hesitated, then he said, “Well, I can explain that. A few years back, when I had a job and some money in the bank, I donated it myself.”

“You're kidding.”

Uncle Neal shrugged. “What more can I say?”

Tyler looked at me. “Is that true, Shannon?”

I got a little upset. “I never knew it before, but if Neal said it's true, it's true.”

Tyler threw up his hands and walked off. I stood there wishing he'd stayed, said something nice to Uncle Neal and made up. I wished Tyler would go back to working with Liberty and feeling better about himself. But wishing wasn't going to make those things happen.

“Don't give up on him,” Neal said.

“He was being such a jerk. And what
about
the ambulance? Can Jackie afford to get a new engine or whatever?”

“It's got a couple hundred thousand miles on it, Shannon, and too many other problems. With as much mileage as the center puts on its ambulance, we need a new vehicle.”

“But where will that much money come from?”

“Who knows, but I hope it comes soon. Jackie lives on small miracles. We could use one any time now.”

Neal went into the office and I took the otter into the clinic. For ten or fifteen minutes I held various animals while their cages were being cleaned. I felt so uneasy, so apprehensive, and I didn't know why. It's Tyler, I thought, but thinking about Tyler was anything but calming.

I was crossing from the clinic to the house when I heard the screech of tires, a long, heart-stopping screech of tires on the road below the center, then the sudden impact of a vehicle hitting something solid. It wasn't the sound of metal on metal; it was more like a loud
thunk.

Who or what had been hit? There was no doubt it was bad enough to be deadly.
Cody,
I thought instantly. Where's Cody? I hadn't seen him since we got out of the ambulance and I'd started talking to Tyler. He hadn't gone into the house, he hadn't gone into the clinic….

The creek,
I thought. He must have sneaked off to the creek. I could picture it clear as day, Cody hurrying back before I found out, running out of the blackberry vines and right into the road.

I almost fell down, I was so afraid and light-headed. I'd never been so scared in my life. This was the one thing I had to do right this summer, keep my brother safe, and if I'd blown it…

“Cody!” I screamed. “Cody! Cody!”

Everybody came pouring out of the center. Everyone but Cody. “Where's Cody?” I screamed. “Where's Cody?”

Fast as I could, I ran down the driveway. Neal and Tyler came running after me. I was infuriated with Tyler, infuriated with myself for losing my focus because of him when he wasn't worth it, didn't deserve it. “I thought you went home,” I yelled at him.

“I—I went to the stump,” Tyler stammered as the three of us kept running.

On the far shoulder of the road, a woman next to an SUV was kneeling down next to something I couldn't quite see. I thought I was going to be sick. I reeled toward her, covering my eyes.

It turned out to be a deer, thank God. It was dead as dead could be. Thank God it was a deer. The doe had been struck in the head and shoulders. I cast my eyes around looking for Cody and there he was in the open field, running toward us from the creek.

“It's my fault,” the lady said. “I was going too fast, and punching up a number on my cell phone. I feel so awful.”

Suddenly I recognized the deer, from the fullness of her belly. I said to Neal, who was at my shoulder, “It's the doe that always hangs around the garden. She was probably on her way to the woods down at the creek. Maybe to have her fawn.”

“It is her,” Uncle Neal said. He reached into his pocket and brought out his pocketknife. “It appears she took the impact with her head, neck, and front legs. The fawn might be alive.”

Neal was about to hand the pocketknife to me. It was obvious what he wanted done. With a quick nod of my head I acknowledged I was ready to try it.

Neal sort of nodded back, hesitated, then turned instead to Tyler. “Take this,” he said. “Get the fawn out, and do it fast.”

Tyler went three shades of pale. “I can't….”

“Come on, Tyler, I can't do it myself with one hand. And I think you can.” I'd never seen Uncle Neal this intense.

A moment of confusion, and I realized what was going on. It wasn't because Neal thought I couldn't do what needed to be done. This was about Tyler. It was a test and an opportunity. “Just do it, Tyler!” Neal insisted. “The knife's real sharp. I'll talk you through it. Do it carefully, but do it! Please!”

“Maybe I can,” Tyler said. “Maybe I can.”

Tyler knelt down, took a deep breath, and opened the pocketknife. He went to work doing exactly what Neal told him. Careful not to cut too deep, he opened up the belly of the doe. Uncle Neal kept giving him careful directions. Tyler laid aside some organs, and then he made a few more incisions—his hands were bloody past his wrists—and then he cut the placental sac free.

“Open the sac,” Neal urged. “Hurry, open the sac.”

Another careful incision, and the fawn's head appeared. Uncle Neal knelt and wiped the slime off its face, parted its tiny jaws, held its tongue down, and breathed air into its little lungs.

The fawn responded with a kick, a strong kick, and then some more. As it was thrashing around, it opened its eyes.

“Beautiful,” Neal said to Tyler. “That was beautiful, Tyler. Cut the cord, or else I'll have to play mama and bite it off. Cut it right here.”

Tyler cut the cord, then fell back stunned. Just stunned. Cody and I and the lady who'd struck the doe were all
speechless. The fawn was struggling to get to its feet. Jackie was limping down the road with the most amazed expression on her face. By now three cars had stopped and people were crowding around.

“I smell a skunk,” somebody said.

I'd been smelling it too, only I hadn't thought about it.

“Guess that's me,” Cody said.

People started to back away. “Cody,” I said, “you reek. What happened?”

By now the fawn was standing up on wobbly legs next to the body of its mother. “Scoop that fawn up, Tyler,” Jackie said. “Bring it up to the medical room. Cody, did you get skunked? How did that happen?”

“I sort of cornered it,” he admitted, “down by the creek. I wanted to see what would happen, I guess.”

“For heaven's sake, don't go into the house or the clinic with those clothes! Strip outside the back door and head straight for the tub!”

“Yes, ma'am,” he said, “but I don't want to miss anything with the fawn.”

“Then strip right here!”

“Uh, behind the house sounds like a good idea.”

The woman who'd hit the deer followed us up the driveway. Her otherwise immaculate lavender pantsuit had a conspicuous smudge where she'd knelt down. She watched as Tyler set the fawn gently down on the examining table in the medical room inside the clinic. Rosie started drying the fawn with a towel. Somebody was heating goat's milk, and Jackie was talking about what should be added to it. Tyler was standing there watching the miracle of this big-eyed fawn he'd brought into the world. He was in a trance.

I saw him leave the clinic by one of the doors that led out
to the rehab area, and I watched the woman follow him. She was making a call on her cell phone.

My curiosity was aroused. From where I peeked, I could see Tyler had gone to the bench outside Liberty's flying enclosure. To be alone, maybe. No, to be with Liberty. When the woman caught up with him, she started talking to him and Tyler started talking back, not that I could hear what they were saying.

After a minute the woman sat down on the bench next to Tyler, pulled a notepad and a pen out of her purse, and started taking notes.

Back at the clinic, Jackie said the woman who'd hit the deer was the lady who put out the Cedar Glen newspaper once a week. I asked, “What in the world do you think Tyler is saying?”

“No idea,” Jackie said. “Your guess is as good as mine. All I know is, right now the center is totally at his mercy. Any piece of bad press could sink us.”

I caught up with Cody. He was in the bathtub. Even without his clothes, he was stinking up the place something awful. He looked up at me, smiled, and said, “He got me good.”