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Authors: Naomi Kinsman

BOOK: Shades of Truth
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Chapter 19
Living and Breathing

I
crossed out another day on my calendar. September 29. Twenty-seven more days of hunting season.
Please make it
,
Patch
, I thought.
Please hide. Go hibernate. Do something. Whatever will keep you away from Jim.

Dad honked. I grabbed my backpack and hurried downstairs. The tires screeched as Dad pulled out.

“What’s the hurry?”

A gunshot echoed and Dad set his jaw. “I have to get to the DNR to prep with Meredith for the meeting tomorrow.”

“How can you stand it?” I asked. “Any shot could be Jim shooting Patch.”

“Sades, we’ve talked about this. I can’t take sides.”

“You’re more on Helen’s side than on Jim’s side,” I said.

“That’s what everyone thinks, and maybe it’s true. I’m supposed to be an unbiased mediator, but instead I’ve become part of the problem.”

He merged onto the main road into town. Another shot echoed outside the Jeep. I stared out the window. Dad
was
part of the problem, making Mom so upset she completely collapsed, trying to be like the hunters with his shotgun and hunting license and then swinging all the way to the other side, getting into fistfights with them. Probably they would purposely search for Patch, even more now, just to get back at Dad. Why, when I needed Dad more than ever, did he have to completely fail me?

When we pulled up to the curb at school, Dad asked, “Sades, are you all right?”

I threw open my door without answering. What could I say? Everything around me is falling apart, and he’s mostly to blame? I avoided everyone’s eyes and went to the bathroom to avoid talking to anyone before class. Just before the final bell rang, I slipped into the classroom. Ruth sat at her desk, so she must be feeling better.

“Good morning,” Ms. Barton said. “It’s a big day. Frankie is presenting the first of our word study reports.”

Frankie wrote NAIVE in big, bold letters on the whiteboard.

“The word naïve,” Frankie said, looking directly at me, “describes innocent, idealistic, unrealistic people. If you’re naïve, you don’t understand how life works. For my presentation, I’ve written a short play.”

Ty and Nicole joined Frankie. Nicole tied a scarf around her head, pioneer style, turned her back, took a deep theatrical breath, and then spun around, hands clasped. “Oh, Ty, I just have to report them.”

“Report who?” Ty sounded only slightly more animated than wood.

“You know,” Nicole said. “Those bad kids, the ones who played with fire. I mean, that’s dangerous.” Here she batted her eyelashes.

“How do you know they are bad kids?” Ty dug his toe into the carpet.

“Bad kids are bad kids.”

“That’s naïve, Nicole.”

“I’m not naive?” Nicole said. Again with the eyelashes. “I’m from Cal-i-forn-i-a.”

Ruth winced in my direction as the class burst into laughter and Ms. Barton said, “All right, that’s enough. Frankie, I’ll speak with you at lunch. Now all of you, sit down.”

We spent the rest of the morning completing math proofs while Ms. Barton watched us, looking as though she’d swallowed an angry cat. Her knuckles were white and her eyes flashed, and no one dared to raise a hand, even though most of us had no idea how to complete the math. I finally gave up and took out my sketchbook.

I drew Ms. Barton’s eyes first, focusing on the tense lines around the corners. I couldn’t see Ruth’s eyes, so I moved on to the eyes I most wanted to draw: Frankie’s. But my squinty drawings weren’t satisfying.
Draw what is there
,
not what you expect
, Vivian’s voice whispered in my ear.

I kept looking over my shoulder to catch Frankie’s eyes.

“What are you looking at?” she hissed at me.

I decided I should move on to math. I slid my sketchbook
back into my desk and had just begun to stare at my first proof when the bell rang for lunch.

Since Frankie and her friends were stuck upstairs with Ms. Barton, Ruth and I found a quiet corner in the cafeteria where we could talk. After dreading this conversation for so long, the built-up doom was thick and heavy.

Ruth played with her napkin, ripping little pieces off the corner, and then started to talk. “When Tess and Nicole walked past us in the hall, all of it came back from my first year here. I didn’t know what to say, and I ended up saying the very worst thing.”

I doodled on the edge of my lunch bag. “All of what?”

“Last year, when Tess found out I was a pastor’s kid, she made me her personal challenge. She, Nicole, and Frankie used to invite me over to their houses, where they caked my face with make-up and tried to make me swear. You’d think I would have stopped going, but for the first time in my life, the popular kids had noticed me. Honestly, I didn’t care how they treated me.” She wadded up her napkin in her fist.

“Ruth —” I put my pencil down.

“Let’s just say, when I stopped happily participating in their makeovers, I was deemed unworthy and quickly unfriended. When you came, and we started hanging out, I promised myself I wouldn’t let Frankie, Tess, and Nicole ruin our friendship. And then … I’m so sorry, Sadie.”

I couldn’t stand dragging this out any longer. “Did you tell on the boys, Ruth?”

“Sadie, they always get away with everything. And this time …” She unwadded the napkin and smoothed it on the table. “While I waited outside the office for you to call your mom, I overheard Mr. Tyree say that Frankie had reported that Cameron and his bandmates had started the fire. I couldn’t let her do that. I just blurted it all out, about the lighters and the boys missing the meeting. I was afraid if I told you, you’d be mad.” She looked at me, her eyes watery. “And now …”

I couldn’t keep looking at her. My nose burned, and I was afraid if I started crying, I wouldn’t be able to stop. I took a deep breath and poked my lunch bag with my pencil.

“Sadie, please forgive me,” Ruth said, her voice quivery.

I pinched my finger and thumb against my nose, where tears threatened. I didn’t know how to put this stabbing feeling into words. When I had first met Ruth, I thought someday we could finish one another’s sentences, the way Pippa and I did. Now, Pips felt so far away, even though we emailed almost every night. And Ruth didn’t trust me, and I couldn’t trust her, so how would our friendship ever work?

With my eyes squeezed shut, Peter’s words, unbidden, drifted into my mind.
People should try to see both sides
,
come to the middle a little more.
Even if Ruth would never be like Pippa, I still had to try to see Ruth’s side.

I looked up at Ruth. “I will try, Ruth. I promise to try.”

Dad waited with Higgins in the parking lot after school. “How was your day?”

I climbed in and Higgins promptly licked my face and
thumped his tail on my lap. I scratched his ears, avoiding Dad’s eyes.

“It was fine,” I lied. “How was yours?”

Dad didn’t turn on the Jeep. “Sadie, I’m worried about you. When Mom gets sick, we focus on her so much, but I know this has been a hard transition for you too.”

I waited out his intense gaze. “Okay, Sades, you’re just as stubborn as I am. But please, if there’s anything I can do, tell me. I’m here for you. I hope you know that.”

I blinked tears away. Dad wasn’t there for me. Not the way he used to be.

“I have good news.” Dad turned on the car, and his voice switched to his normal cheer. “Big Murphy settled into his den today.”

I didn’t want to respond, afraid if I said anything it wouldn’t be real.

“Sades, it was so incredible. He dug a hole into the side of a small hill, right underneath a rock, and he’s almost closed himself in with dirt and rocks.”

“I wish Patch would do the same.”

“Patch will wait a little longer. She has to make sure her cubs have eaten enough. All four of them will den together.”

Dad turned onto Main Street. “Chinese or pizza?”

“Pizza. And breadsticks.”

Higgins thumped his tail, and I clipped his leash onto his collar. “Not for you! For you, a treat from the pet store. If you behave.”

I lifted Higgins out of the Jeep and let him pull me down
the sidewalk, his little body bouncing back and forth just like my thoughts.

 

Chapter 20
Silence

S
ince Mom didn’t feel well enough for the meeting on Tuesday night, Ruth’s dad drove Ruth and me, and Higgins, who refused to be left behind, to the ranger station. On the way, Ruth’s dad told us about Mark and Hannah’s disaster of the day — spilling a full bottle of baby powder on the floor and then blowing it all over the bathroom when they tried to dust bust it up. With Ruth beside me, studying my face every now and then, looking for signs of anger, and Andrew, waiting for me at the meeting, hoping I would report Jim, I appreciated the laughter, even though my stomach muscles ached by the time Ruth’s dad pulled into the DNR parking lot.

I held tight to Higgins as we entered the crowd that spilled out the doorway. The building was warm but still the room felt icy. People stood in tense groups, watching the
door suspiciously. Meredith bustled around the refreshment table, straightening cups and napkins. She raised an eyebrow at Higgins but didn’t say anything. Vivian and Peter waved us over to their seats, so Ruth and I left her dad with a church member and wound through the crowd.

“Sit, Higgins,” I said, holding tight to his leash as I set him down on the floor.

Higgins sat politely while I introduced him, but jumped up as soon as Peter stopped scratching his ears. Peter laughed and passed Higgins back to me.

“Ruth, you’ve met Vivian, and this is her son, Peter.”

Ruth shook both their hands. “Sadie can’t stop talking about art lessons.”

“Nice dog, Zitzie,” Frankie said as she brushed past with Ty, Mack, and her dad.

“Zitzie?” asked another familiar voice. Andrew’s voice. “Someone’s begging for her own spectacular nickname.” Andrew smiled at Ruth and knelt down to scratch Higgins’ chin. “Hey Ruth. I hear you named the puppy.”

“Yeah, Higgins. It was Cameron’s idea. From the youth group,” I said, nudging Ruth. “In fact, I think I see Cameron over there with his parents.”

Ruth nudged me back. “Small world.”

Andrew rose and held his hand out to Vivian. “I’m Andrew, by the way.”

“I’m Vivian, Sadie’s art teacher.” She shook his hand. “This is my son, Peter.”

As Ruth chatted with Vivian and Peter, my attention
shifted to the front of the room, where Dad rearranged his papers on the podium.

“Where’s your mom?” I asked Andrew.

He nodded toward the back doors. “She’s standing back there, in case she needs to escape quickly. We hope to avoid a repeat performance of last time.”

People settled into seats, and Ruth, Andrew, and I took seats next to Peter and Vivian. Ruth looked over at her dad, who was now surrounded by a small crowd.

“That’s the mission team.” Ruth grinned at her dad who shrugged and ushered his little flock out the doors onto the front steps. “They’re planning a new mission project. He’ll be stuck for hours.”

For once, Higgins was on his best behavior. He curled up at my feet, sighed, and put his head on his paws.

“So, you going to do it tonight?” Andrew whispered.

“Maybe Dad will.”

Andrew opened his mouth, but before he could launch into a lecture, Dad began. “Thank you for coming out on a dark, cold night. As you know, in our past meeting we discussed scientific data about the Owl Creek black bear population. Tonight we’ll hear your thoughts and opinions. Each speaker will have the floor, without interruption, for two minutes. When all speakers have finished, I’ll lead a short discussion. We’ll take all opinions expressed and work up three plans on which you may vote at our next meeting.”

“Who will make these plans?” Jim Paulson called.

Meredith stood. “The three plans will summarize the
points of view expressed tonight. The plans will address your varied concerns and will be fair.”

Jim snorted and whispered to Mack in a voice loud enough for the whole room to hear, “Fair? We pay extra taxes to bring in a so-called expert. Instead of getting rid of the bear problem, we get a tree-hugging bear lover who makes everything worse.”

Ruth grumbled in her seat next to me, “Who’s making everything worse?”

Conversations spread across the crowd and the volume continued to rise. Dad leaned in to the microphone.

“You’ll all have your chance to speak. Jim, would you like the floor?”

Jim gave Dad a tight-lipped smirk, and walked up to the podium. “I believe in keeping our community safe. I’ve hunted and killed three bears that terrorized Owl Creek, and I intend to continue. Bears belong in the wilderness outside our town limits. As soon as a bear gets too comfortable here, I say we shoot it. Get them out of our way. No reason to put up with the danger or the peskiness. That’s what I think.”

Patch. The cubs.
I closed my eyes and pictured them in the woods, at the cabin, far from here.
Go hibernate
,
Patch. You’re not safe
.

Dad’s face remained expressionless as Jim sat down. How did Dad do that? How, and why for that matter, didn’t he simply tell everyone what he knew about Jim?

Instead he asked, “Would anyone else like to share an opinion?”

“Do it now,” Andrew whispered.

I shook my head and tried not to look at him.

On my other side, Ruth mouthed, “What?” and I shook my head again.

For the next two hours, towns people expressed their fear or love of bears. The opinions, placed side by side, reminded me of the light and shadows in my drawings. As the differing views stacked up, played against one another, the argument deepened. With every speaker, I was less sure we’d ever come to a conclusion.

Andrew’s fingertips brushed against my clenched fist, and then his hand wrapped around mine. Suddenly, I noticed how loud my breathing sounded, how sweaty my palms felt.
Andrew was holding my hand
. Now, even more than before, I wanted to report Jim, to make Andrew happy, but if I did, after Dad had said he wouldn’t, and after Mom reported Dad’s fight … what would happen then?

Higgins let out another sigh as Meredith Taylor stood to address the group.

“As Matthew said, we’ll create three proposals based on your opinions. After the vote, I hope you’ll put aside your differences and support the community decision.”

As she said this, she looked pointedly toward the back of the room where Helen leaned against a wall. Andrew let go of my hand as quickly as he’d grabbed it. People started to stand up. I had to say something to him, but I didn’t have any words.

Finally, I said, “Your mom didn’t say anything tonight.”

Andrew’s eyes were full of shadows as he said, “Neither did you, Sadie.”

“I —”

“I’m going to protect my mom from the crowd.” He left before I could answer.

Ruth picked up Higgins and grabbed my elbow, pulling me away from Vivian and Peter. “He held your hand, Sadie.”

I took Higgins. Everything was too confused with Ruth, and I couldn’t explain what had just happened with Andrew. “You should go say hi to Cameron.” I pointed her in his direction.

As soon as she had gone, I scanned the room for Dad. He stood at the podium, watching groups of people talking and arguing. I fought my way to the front.

“Dad, why didn’t you say anything? I mean, about Jim?” I demanded, as soon as I’d reached him.

Meredith looked up from gathering cookies and frowned at me.

Dad gathered his papers. “It’s not my job to have an opinion.”

“It’s your job to tell the truth,” I said.

Meredith walked over. “Matthew, if you must continue this conversation, please do so at home.”

“Dad’s not the one talking.” I rounded on Meredith. “I am.”

Meredith’s thin lips tightened. Without looking my way, she said, “Matthew, please don’t forget what we spoke about last week. Your job depends on it.”

I opened my mouth to speak again, but the look on Dad’s face made me close it again. He clamped a strong hand on my shoulder and guided me into the parking lot.

“Stop wiggling, Higgins,” I said, much louder than I needed to. And then I couldn’t stop myself. “Dad, you know Jim shot Big Murphy, and he’s in there acting like a hero. He broke the law, and you’re not doing anything at all!”

People turned to look at us. I knew this anger wasn’t fair; it was multiplied and quadrupled by the trouble between Andrew and me. If Dad had reported Jim, Andrew wouldn’t be so disappointed in me.

I knew I should stop shouting, but I couldn’t hold my words back. “You’re letting them murder bears because you’re too afraid to stand up for what you believe!”

We were almost at the Jeep. Dad stopped and faced me. His forehead pinched together and his eyes were cold as he whispered, “Enough. That’s enough, Sadie.”

I stepped back from his quiet rage, much worse than any angry shout I’d heard from him before. Without looking back, he climbed into the Jeep. I followed, not sure what else to do, and played with Higgins’ velvety ears. I pretended I didn’t mind the silence all the way home.

 

 

 

 

 

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