Reading the Bones (13 page)

I couldn't breathe and started gasping for air. I'd heard what the nurse had said, but she couldn't be telling the truth. I was here. I was here to see Mrs. Hobbs. But when I looked into my uncle's eyes I knew it was true. I stumbled toward the stairwell and fumbled my way down the steps. My uncle called after me, but I began to run.

Once I was outside the hospital, I ran until a stitch in my side forced me to slow to a walk. But even then I kept going until I found myself standing alongside an old railway track. I walked awkwardly along it — at first taking tiny steps for each single tie. But that was too slow, so I stretched my legs to take two at a time. Nervously, I watched and listened for trains as I followed the tracks that led to Crescent Beach.

After I got to Thousand Stairs, I jumped down from the track and went the rest of the way along the shoreline. When I finally arrived at Beecher Street, there were people everywhere. I pulled the hood on my jacket over my head and tied it tight around my face. Even though it made me hot, I wanted to be invisible. Like a ghost hiding behind a shroud of sadness, I watched women pushing buggies, couples holding hands, dogs running for sticks at the water's edge, and kids clambering over logs. The muscles in my throat tightened, and I wanted to yell at them all for being happy, for going on with their lives — without Mrs. Hobbs.

I hurried to Blackie's Spit where I knew there would be hardly anyone. My feet were sore, and I flopped onto the sand. I'd been walking for so long, trying to keep my feelings in check, that now the stillness was like an open door and all the grief came bursting in on me.

Angrily, I scooped up handfuls of sand. After it sifted through my fingers, there were small bits of broken clamshell and a couple of mudflat snails resting in my palms. Shells — they protected the creatures living inside. I needed a shell, one that kept out the feelings, the memories, the guilt. Then I squeezed my eyes tight, making a barrier against the tears.

With everything that had happened in the past two days, the last thing I wanted was to see Eddy. Now that I'd become a grave robber like Mr. Grimbal, something about me had changed, and she was sure to notice. I breathed easier when I came up the street and saw that her old pickup was nowhere around. But I wondered who owned the Mustang convertible parked in the driveway. Quietly, I opened the front door, hoping I could sneak up to my room without anyone noticing.

“Oh, it's Peggy. She's home.” Aunt Margaret was in the living room. I almost crumpled to the floor in a heap.

When she came out, she looked at me as if I were a pathetic stray cat standing in her hallway. “You poor thing. I heard the news from Stuart.”

“Aunt Margaret, I don't feel like talking. I just want to go to my room.”

“Yes, of course. But maybe you could come in here for a moment. There's someone here I think you should meet.”

I heaved my chest and followed my aunt into the living room. That was when my heart jumped into my throat again.

“Hello, Peggy,” said Eddy, who was sitting on the sofa next to a very long-legged man.

I held my breath and tried to avoid looking into her
eyes. “Hi,” I mumbled. Eddy looked tired and sad. She knows, I thought.

“Your aunt just told us about Helen passing on. I didn't realize you both were such good friends. You know she was a good friend of mine, too.”

How could I have forgotten about that? “Yes, she told me how much you both loved to spend your summers here in Crescent Beach,” I said quietly. I tried to imagine Mrs. Hobbs and Eddy when they were young girls. Mrs. Hobbs would have been sort of elegant, but not in a stuffy way. Eddy was probably ... more like me.

I glanced over at the olive-skinned man. He had black hair streaked with grey and wore a Montreal Canadiens cap. He caught me staring at him. “Hi,” he said.

I felt my cheeks flush.

“Oh, I'm sorry, Peggy. This is Chief Donald Lloyd.” The lanky man stood and shook my hand. “I'm very sorry to hear about your loss.”

I liked his soft voice and calm face. His features reminded me of the woman in Mrs. Hobbs's book.

“It was Peggy and her uncle who discovered the burial,” Eddy said. “And I should add that she's turned out to be one of my best assistants.”

My face felt as if it were on fire.

“It must have been quite a shock to find an ancient burial in your backyard, Peggy,” the chief said.

My mind flashed back to the day Uncle Stuart and I first found the skull. “I guess it was for my aunt and uncle. But for me, I'd have to say I was more fascinated than shocked.”

The chief smiled at me as if he approved of my answer. “And for good reason, too. Eddy was just explaining
how much you both have learned about my ancestor.”

“Your ancestor?”

“Yes, I'm also Coast Salish like him. Today our people live on the Semiahmoo Reserve, but there was a time when all this land was occupied by only Salish speakers. It was the best place for our ancestors to come for fishing, hunting, and gathering fruit.” I remembered that Mr. Grimbal had said something similar. “And as you've discovered, it was also where our dead were buried.”

The word
dead
seemed to hang in the air along with a sudden sense of grief and gloom.

My aunt broke the silence by trying to reignite the conversation cheerfully. “It's certainly been a learning opportunity for us all, though Peggy was the one who threw herself into the archaeology and excavation. Isn't that right, Peggy?”

“Yeah, I guess. I never realized it was possible to get to know someone who was ...”

“Not alive,” my aunt volunteered.

Usually, that sort of thing would have been frustrating, but I sensed Aunt Margaret was trying to help. When I looked at the three faces, it was hers that seemed most eager to hear what I had to say.

“Chief Lloyd, he may have been your ancestor — and I don't mean any disrespect — but you don't know him at all.” I made the mistake of looking at Eddy, and my voice got all wobbly. “I've seen the story of his bones. They tell of an old man who lived a long and useful life filled with pain and challenges. His back was stiff and crooked and his hands were gnarled. He couldn't do what the other men in the tribe could, like fishing and hunting, but he found other ways to contribute to his
clan. Sometimes he used his teeth to grind and soften the fibres used for basket making. And though he might have been slow, he used his hands to make things. He was a craftsman, a woodworker, maybe even an artist.”

My mind could see the tiny carved face. “When he was growing up, he survived a period of near starvation. Then he had a terrible ear infection that caused him to lose his hearing. And as if that wasn't hard enough, he endured a painful and scary skull operation — probably no one he knew had ever seen such a thing. I think someone who had survived stuff like that must have been brave.”

The chief nodded in agreement.

“And because he was old, he must have known a lot — the kind of things that could help his people. Like the best places to fish and how to tan hides, or all his clan's history and stories. And when he died, his family had him buried carefully on his side, with all his tools and belongings so he'd be okay in his next life. I think that showed they really cared about him.”

Until that moment I hadn't realized that my cheeks were streaked with tears and my heart was numb. That was when I knew Eddy and Mrs. Hobbs weren't the only friends I'd betrayed. “I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling well. I'm going to my room now.”

“Of course, this has been a very difficult day for you,” Aunt Margaret said. “You go and rest for a while and I'll come and check on you later.”

“Before you go,” said Chief Lloyd, whose dark eyes were full of thoughts that could never be shared. “When my ancestor was buried here long ago, it was meant to be forever.” He spoke gently, with no trace
of resentment in his voice. “If somehow he's aware of what's happened, he may feel sad that his earthly remains and burial ground have been disturbed. But he'd also feel your great concern for him. On his behalf, I thank you and Dr. McKay for your care and respect.”

As I walked up the stairs, I heard Eddy's voice. “We should have most of the remains removed by tomorrow, Mrs. Randall. Then, once I've made sure we've recovered all the burial goods, we're done.” Aunt Margaret must have been happy to hear that.

Then I heard the chief speak in a much softer voice. “Dr. McKay, the band members have given you their permission to study the remains and burial goods. But in time we'd like our ancestor returned so we can give him a resting place on our land.”

I closed the door and dropped onto my bed where I finally let everything out. I cried until my brain throbbed and my face was raw. Everything in my life was crap. My mom was thousands of miles away, my aunt thought I was a horrible brat, I was a thief in partnership with Mr. Grimbal, my closest friend was gone — and I never got a chance to show her how much I cared about her. And if that wasn't bad enough, it was only a matter of time before Eddy found out what I'd done and she'd hate me, too. I would've berated myself all night, but after a while I couldn't keep my eyes open and drifted off to sleep.

When I woke, the room was dark and there was such a quiet stillness I knew it was the middle of the night. My stomach started growling, and I realized I'd missed supper. I tiptoed down the stairs and looked in the fridge for something to eat. Duff rubbed up against my leg, and I bent down and scratched him under the chin.

“Sorry for yelling at you yesterday,” I whispered. I poured myself a glass of milk and put some in a bowl for him. Then I helped myself to a piece of Aunt Margaret's carrot cake.

I went out and sat on the back porch where the moonlight had cast a soft white glow over everything. Even though I knew the tarp that covered the burial was orange, it looked grey and colourless. Above, the sky was packed with tiny specks of starlight. I thought about what I'd learned in school about astronomy, like how the starlight I was seeing was actually sent out millions of years ago.

That was when it hit me — an epiphany Mom would have said. Lots of things had changed in Crescent Beach over the past three or four thousand years, but not the moon and stars. This was the same star-speckled sky the old man had looked at every night of his life. Then I noticed the slightly pungent smell of seaweed and salt water drifting in on the gentle evening breeze. And there, beyond the houses and trees, was the sound of the waves lapping onto the shore —
whoosh
...
whoosh
...
whoosh
— like the Earth's rhythmic heartbeat. I realized I was connected ... to the past ... to him ... to Mrs. Hobbs, wherever she was.

After I bathed in this knowledge for some time, I knew I'd tell Eddy about the carved pendant. No matter what she'd think of me, we had to try to get it back.

“Hi, Peggy. How are you feeling?” I'd already jumped off the steps by the time I realized it was only Aunt Margaret. “Oops. Sorry to startle you. I guess you were so deep in thought you didn't hear me.”

“That's okay.”

Aunt Margaret opened the fridge. “Got room for another piece of carrot cake?”

I nodded. I could always make room for one more slice of her famous carrot cake. She took the cake from the fridge and dished out a piece for us both, then motioned for me to join her at the kitchen table.

“You know, this was my mother's recipe. I used to love helping her in the kitchen. She taught me to cook and bake just about everything.” Aunt Margaret picked at the cake on her plate. “At first I loved cooking, because it was something special she and I could do together. Your mom, Stella, and Norma — they hated anything to do with the kitchen — so they were always outside playing, getting dirty, just like you. Then Mom passed on, and all of a sudden I had three little girls to care for, cook for, make decisions for, and I was barely more than a girl myself.”

I wasn't sure why Aunt Margaret was telling me all this, so I sat quietly and listened.

“Peggy, I've been thinking about the conversation we had the other day. Well, it was more like an argument. I realize now I've been trying to parent you the way I tried to parent my sisters. I told them when to get up, when to go to bed, what clothes to put on, what to do — everything. I thought that's what a parent did. But you reminded me that it wasn't an effective way to raise children back then, and it's not the way to do it now.

“I see now, Peggy, that I don't need to make you into someone who's responsible, caring, or disciplined. If anything, my job is to support you as you go about discovering your innate goodness.” She brushed at her eyes. “When I listened to you talk about the things
you've learned from reading those bones, and all the great things Dr. McKay had to say about you, I realized you already are a caring, responsible, and capable girl. So I'm sorry for not realizing that sooner. And I know I'm not your mother, but believe me when I say that I love you, no matter what you wear, or how messy your room gets, or even when we disagree.”

Her words embraced me like a long, warm hug. I leaned over and kissed her cheek. “I'm sorry, too, Aunt Margaret. You really aren't as horrible as I made you out to be. Lots of it was my fault, too.”

Outside, the first light of dawn was appearing on the horizon, and wispy grey clouds floated across the pink-and-orange sky. Aunt Margaret cleared the dishes from the table and gestured for me to come upstairs. “Do you think we should try to get a few hours of rest before the day really begins?”

I nodded.

After I crawled into bed and Aunt Margaret was closing my bedroom door, I knew there was more that needed to be said. “Aunt Margaret, wait,” I whispered. “There's something I need to tell you.” She came back and sat on the edge of the bed. There, in the dark, I told her about accidentally finding the carving, about making a deal to sell it to Mr. Grimbal, and even about trying to get it back. I also told her how Mrs. Hobbs felt that artifacts from Crescent Beach belonged in the museum.