Summer of the Wolves (9 page)

Moronic Mood-o-Meter steady on five point five.

Later in the afternoon Nick and Stephanie went to look at some arrowheads in a gift shop. I got a little nervous about Nick and Stephanie being together. Would Stephanie accidentally give something away? I was about to follow them when Norm came over. Put his arm around my shoulders.

“Sorry I lost my temper,” Norm told me. “And your mom says grounding you from the barn for the whole week was too harsh. You had to skip riding today, and your mom says that’s enough. We’ll all go raftin’ as a family tomorrow, and then you can ride the rest of the week. How’s that?”

“That sounds okay,” I mumbled. I stared at the
ground. Norm’s arm hugged my shoulders, heavy and warm.

Later that night, I followed Stephanie into the loft bathroom and shut the door behind us. I turned on the fan so its noise would cover our conversation.

“You swear you didn’t tell Nick?”

Stephanie looked up from brushing her teeth. She shook her head. Spit out toothpaste. “No!” she said. “I promised you, didn’t I?” It was nearly ten. Stephanie had just taken a shower. Her long wet hair had made a dark half-moon on the back of her pajama top. “I didn’t, I swear. But I feel so terrible.” Stephanie put the top on the toothpaste. “I mean, I felt sorry for the wolves in that pen. I thought we were helping them. But it turns out we weren’t.”

I sat down on the closed toilet lid. “Let’s face it, we weren’t thinking about what we were doing.” I heaved a sigh. Knew my face didn’t look as confident as I wanted it to.

Stephanie sat on the edge of the tub. She rubbed her eyes, then wrapped a towel around her wet hair. “I don’t know, maybe if we said we didn’t know it was wrong. I mean, most people would think what we thought—that wolves are wild animals and shouldn’t be in a pen. But look at all that Maggie and Russell went through today. Riding through the woods looking
for them with Doc. And Maggie calling all the farmers and stuff nearby, telling them. And did you hear her at dinner telling what that one farmer said?”

“Yeah.” I stared at the floor. “If the wolves come on his property they’ll never leave alive. And someone at dinner said that Mr. Morgan’s been driving around looking for them, too. I don’t want him to get the wolves back! What if Mr. Morgan finds them before Maggie and Russell do?” I looked back up at Stephanie. “I wish we could go look for them ourselves.”

“But how can we? We’ll be gone rafting all day.”

“Y
ou can call me Wild Wes. They let me out of the joint for good behavior on Monday, and I’ve been a river guide since Tuesday.” The skinny, tanned guy at the front of the bus wore ancient jams and light brown dreadlocks. He had a real crazy smile. “This guide here is Jesse, who deserves a big round of applause for finally passing his lifesaving course after taking it seven times. Last but not least is Zeke. Yesterday was his first day back after an extended
hospitalization, which occurred the last time he went down this river. Even though he’s blind and deaf now, he will be able to guide you around the rapids using his acute sense of smell.”

I pulled the straps tighter on my orange life vest. I poked Diana, next to me. “He’s making that up, right?”

Diana nodded and laughed. “He’s kidding, Steph.”

Once Diana had figured out that rafting was kind of dangerous, she suddenly acted real excited about it. I was trying to look on the bright side.

The bus lurched as it pulled into a gravel parking lot just below the dam, and Wild Wes grabbed an overhead railing, showing off his tattoo of this coiled-up river monster on his upper arm. The bus pulled over to a place by itself on the corner of the lot. “This here dam is right on the Tennessee line. We have to park at this end of the lot because me and Jesse, we would be violating our probation if we left the state of North Carolina. But don’t worry, you’re going to be perfectly safe with us.”

Everybody laughed, real nervously, as we stood up and filed off the bus. We looked like a bunch of big old bugs, standing around in our orange vests and helmets. Wild Wes assigned each group to a guide, then said to Daddy, “Your group goes with me.”

“I guess we should say our last good-byes, then,” Daddy joked.

“That’s right,” said Wild Wes with a big old grin. “If there’s anything you’ve been meaning to say to your loved ones, best say it now. Don’t hold back.”

Daddy took Lynn by the shoulders and looked real deeply into her eyes. “Honey, I don’t care for your meat loaf.”

Lynn rolled her eyes at Diana and me. “I’m afraid it’s going to be like this all day, girls.” She put her hands on Dad’s cheeks. “Sweetheart, put a sock in it.”

I glanced at Diana to see how she was reacting. She rolled her eyes again but didn’t seem too upset. I grabbed a handhold on the heavy, yellow, five-man raft and helped tote it down to the river’s edge. Wild Wes led the way.

Sunlight went dancing across choppy waves in the river, and the water rushing by was as muddy as could be.

“It’s not
too
cold,” Diana said, standing up and flicking water from her fingertips.

I nodded and swallowed. I couldn’t say a thing. I thought I would be all right until I’d gotten down here and actually seen the water.

“A little rafting lesson,” Wild Wes said. His voice and face turned real serious. “All kidding aside, I’ve been going down the Big Pigeon twice a day about a hundred days a year for the past six years, which
means I’ve been down this river more ‘n a thousand times. I know every twist ‘n turn, and I’ve ridden this river in every possible condition. The river’s runnin’ low this summer, which means you’ve got to be extra careful about rocks in the rapids. During this trip we’ll hit two class four rapids. It’s extremely important to pay attention and do what I say when I say it, no questions asked. You can’t say, ‘Why,’ or ‘In a minute.’” Wild Wes raised his eyebrows and looked at all of us. “Got it?”

We all nodded.

“If you follow my instructions you’ll make it fine.”

I tried to swallow again but my throat was so dry the spit got stuck. I reminded myself that after all Daddy’s kidding around, he and Lynn had ended up picking the warm, safe Big Pigeon River over the cold and dangerous Nantahala.

Wild Wes explained that he would be sitting in the rear of the raft. Daddy and Lynn would sit toward the back, and Diana and I would sit up front. Wes showed us how to sit on the inflated cross-seats and wedge our feet under the curved inside wall of the raft. He explained that his command “Paddle forward” meant everyone should take long, steady strokes with our oars. “Paddle back” meant everyone should paddle backward, pushing our oars deep into the water. “Right
back” meant those on the right side of the raft should paddle backward while those on the left paddled forward. “Left back” meant those on the left paddled backward, and those on the right paddled forward.

“If somebody falls out of the raft,” Wes said, “do not jump in after them. Reach out to them with a paddle, or I’ll throw them a rope. And if you fall out, the number one rule, the most important thing,” he said with conviction, “is
never
stand up in the river. That’s how people drown when they’re white watering—they fall out of the raft and try to stand up and get their feet caught in the rocks. If you wipe out, float on your back facing down river with your feet up.
Do not stand up in the river!
Got that? Questions?”

“Have you ever wiped out?” Daddy asked.

“At least twice a week.” Wild Wes grinned and made a terrified face.

“How reassuring,” Daddy said. He squeezed my shoulder.

“All aboard!”

My knees shook a little as I climbed into the raft, and I nearly stumbled, but I kept on going. There was water in the bottom of the raft and my tennis shoes got soaking wet. It squeaked when I sat down. I wanted to lean back against Daddy so I could feel the solid warmth of his life vest behind me, but I was still mad
at him, so I just sat very straight. Diana and Lynn, on the other side of the raft, looked happy in a sort of breathless way. Lynn reached forward and brushed Diana’s hair from her face. Diana was scanning the shoreline around us. She didn’t seem like she was listening to Wild Wes’s instructions.

“Try not to drop your oar,” Wild Wes said as he settled himself on the back end of the raft. “Because then we have to go back and get it, which is a pain in the you-know-what. But if you do, it floats. Don’t panic. Here’s how you hold it.” He showed how to clasp the T-handle of the oar with one hand and place the other midway down for most efficient rowing. “See this above my eye?” He pointed at a white, shiny scar on his forehead. “Projectile oar injury, the most common in rafting. Keeping your hand over the T-handle will save your fellow rafters from such a fate. When you’re not rowing, lay the oar across your lap like this.” He demonstrated.

I wedged my foot under the curve of the raft edge and placed the oar across my lap the way Wild Wes said. I took a deep, shaky breath and watched a dead branch bob by, yanked to and fro by the current. I said a little prayer to myself.
Dear God, please help me to be brave
.

“Okay, everybody ready?”

“Ready!” said Lynn and Diana.

Daddy and I didn’t say anything.

Wild Wes laughed. “Hey, am I sensing more enthusiasm on one side of the raft than the other?”

“That is purely your imagination,” Daddy said. “I’m pumped, aren’t you, Steph?”

I glanced around.

“Come on, Stephanie,” Lynn said. “This is going to be so much fun.” She reached over and squeezed my knee.

“Yeah, it’ll be fun,” Diana said, giving me a nod.

That in itself made me feel better. “I’m ready.”

“All right!” shouted Wild Wes. With a loud yodel, he shoved off from the riverbank, and our raft surged into the current. “All paddle!”

My heart beat double-time as I lowered my oar into the water and smacked right into Daddy’s.

“Whoa! Wait, let’s get our timing right,” Daddy said. “Stroke, stroke, stroke.”

The raft jerked as a group of high school boys in Jesse’s raft careened into us on purpose, laughing and spraying us with water. I screamed my lungs out. My T-shirt got soaked.

“Hey, watch it, wise guys!” Wild Wes shoved the other raft away with his oar. “Paddle forward, get them out in the middle; let’s lose these juvies,” he shouted.

I paddled, and then Daddy started chanting “Stroke, stroke, stroke,” which started to get on my nerves in about ten seconds.

“Good job. Stop.”

I put my oar on my lap. The high school boys were ahead of us, trying to spray someone else. The raft went faster now that we were in the middle of the river. Rocks and trees slid by on the shore. Weeping willows and other river trees draped branches and tangled roots over the edge. Then we left them behind. The sunlight bouncing off the water and the rushing sound of the current made my brain buzz. Some of my fear leaked away.

“Hey, Steph, you’re doing great!” Lynn said.

“Yeah, nice work, Steph,” Daddy said. “You’re doing a good job.”

I glanced back and smiled at Diana, who was giving me the thumbs-up sign. I didn’t know whether it was God who had given me the courage or not, but I had been brave.

“P
addle forward!” Wild Wes shouted. “Class four rapids coming up! This is called Thunder Road! Stay right of the rock!”

The white water roared louder, and a rock the size of a bear was ahead of us, black and wet, right in the middle of the river. Just beyond bear rock churned the white froth of the rapids. I leaned into my oar and paddled with all my might. The raft skimmed across the water, heading right for the rock.

“Paddle back! Give it all you’ve got!” shouted Wild Wes. “Faster!”

I dug my oar into the water and pushed backward hard and fast. I could hear Mom behind me, out of breath, matching me stroke for stroke.

The distance to the rock shrank. The raft inched slightly right. But we weren’t going to make it. I cut my eyes over at Stephanie and rowed harder.

“Paddle forward!” Wes shouted. “Get ready to ride the rapids, baby!”

Our raft missed the rock by inches, slid over a three-foot waterfall and into the boiling white water. Water cascaded over the sides of the raft, completely soaking us all. For a minute I thought we were going to flip over, but then the raft flew up and forward and we were through it.

“Whoo-hoo!” I shouted. This was as much fun as jumping fences on horseback, like riding at a full gallop. Fantastic!

“Yee-hii!” Mom shouted behind me. “All right!”

“Yikes!” Norm yelped.

Stephanie screamed.

“Paddle forward, paddle forward!” shouted Wild Wes.

I leaned into the oar. Laughing my head off because this was so much fun. The roar of the water filled every space inside my head. I glanced at Stephanie, whose face was totally white. She’d stopped paddling.

“Paddle harder, don’t stop!” Wild Wes yelled. We dodged another rock that jumped out on the left. Then Wes squeezed us through a two-foot chute into the shallows, and suddenly we were gliding through calm water, and the roar settled to a sound as soothing as wind chimes.

“Way to go,” said Wes.

“Whew!” Norm said. “Everybody okay?”

“Great!” said Mom.

“That was awesome!” I said.

“Awesome.” Stephanie managed a grin.

“Well, you’ve conquered your first class four,” said Wes. “One more to go, about a mile down. Right now everybody can take it easy. It’s deep and calm through here. You can jump in and swim if you want.”

“Seriously?” I said. I gazed at the wooded riverbank sliding by.

“Sure.”

“Won’t the raft leave them behind?” Norm asked.

“Just hang on to the side. Or, if you let go, we can always come get you.” Wes grinned wickedly. “Or we can leave you out here for the bears and coyotes.”

Stephanie gasped.

“Kidding!” Wild Wes said. He scooped up a handful of water. Tossed it at Stephanie.

“Here I go!” I laid down my oar, stood on the edge of the raft, and dove in.

“No diving!” shouted Wes as the water closed over my head. I opened my eyes and saw two small fish suspended a foot in front of my face, with black spots by their eyes. I reached for them and they darted away, then I swam upward through angled cones of light filtering from the surface. Suspended mud made the river water seem silky and thick.

“Whoo-hooo!” Wild Wes yelled as my head broke the surface. And he leaped. A wall of water exploded as he did a cannonball right next to me. He jerked his head sideways as he surfaced, tossing the water from his dreadlocks. “
Never
dive into a river, girl. Always jump.”

“Sorry.” I grinned at him, then grabbed an outside handhold and felt the cool tug of the water as the raft moved through it.

“Shouldn’t you be in the raft?” Norm asked Wild Wes.

“Just taking a little dip, back in a sec,” said Wild Wes. He was doing the backstroke.

“It’s okay, Norm, I can steer it,” Mom said. “Diana, stay close to the raft now, all right, sweetie?”

“Come on in, Steph,” I said. “The water’s great.” I could tell from the way Stephanie looked at me that she was dying to come in but was afraid. Stephanie was such a chicken it was hard to resist teasing her. “If you see a copperhead, you don’t have to worry because they can’t bite you while they’re swimming.”

“Diana!” Mom said sternly. “That’s mean.” Mom squeezed Stephanie’s knee. “There aren’t any snakes in there, Steph.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” said Wild Wes as he climbed back in the raft.

“That’s it. I’m not swimming,” Stephanie said.

“Me, neither,” said Norm. He had his hand over Stephanie’s shoulder, holding firmly, but I saw Stephanie shrug his hand off.

Wild Wes reached down to me. His grip was wiry and strong as he pulled me over the side. Water sluiced from our bodies and streamed into the raft. Thin rivulets washed over the blue-green sea monster on Wes’s arm.

“I love your tattoo,” I said.

“Thanks.” Wild Wes flexed his muscle, and the monster appeared to slither along his arm.

“Did it hurt?” Stephanie asked.

“Yes, ma’am, it sure did; hurt like a son of a gun. Don’t ever do it.” Wes settled onto the back of the raft and grabbed his oar.

“Don’t worry,” said Stephanie.

I reached for my oar. How much could it hurt? I had tried to get a tattoo last year, but Mom refused to sign the waiver. That made me so mad. Mom said as long as she refused to sign I couldn’t get a tattoo until
I was eighteen. I used to think when I got to Florida Dad could sign. Just thinking about Dad now made my whole chest and neck feel hot. Dr. Shrink’s Moronic Mood-o-Meter jumped from a five to a seven and then back again.

In the brief silence after that, I heard the faint sound of rapids ahead.

I glanced over at Norm and saw that he heard them, too. He wasn’t his jovial self. Was Norm scared? That seemed weird.

“Second set of class four rapids up ahead,” said Wes. “This one happens to be called Gator Guts.”

“What?” I laughed.

“Why?” Stephanie sounded like she was going to gag.

“Don’t know,” Wes said. “Now, if you’ll look up there, those high school kids are going to the left of the rocks. Big mistake. Guaranteed wipeout. The only way through these rapids is to stay to the right of the rocks and row like crazy.”

I looked at the raft with the high school guys. So far ahead, it looked small, like a toy, bouncing over the waves. There was a huge rock in the center of the river with waterfalls on either side. The guys were going left. Their raft slid over the falls, then I heard yelling and saw heads and legs flailing. The raft popped into the air, totally empty.

“Told you,” said Wes.

Norm breathed out. “Are you sure we should let these kids go over those falls?”

“Absolutely, I am the king of the river,” Wild Wes said. Bared his teeth and growled. “Paddle forward!”

The rock grew as we slid toward it. I shoved my feet deeper into the crevice under the side, tensed my thighs, and dug my oar through the water. The tiny people ahead were swimming toward the loose raft. One person threw a leg over the side, but the three others were bobbing like little crazy people in the water.

“Right back!” Wes shouted.

I glanced at Stephanie. Oops. She was starting to cry.

“Don’t cry!” I said. “Paddle!”

“Come on, come on, get out of our way,” Wild Wes growled, watching the tiny flailing people. “Move it!” Wes shouted.

But one of the people ahead must have gotten hurt or got his leg stuck in some rocks because the people were still splashing around at the foot of the falls. The one person who had managed to get back onto the raft had it perched on a small, flat rock in the middle of the rapids and was leaning out, trying to help the others.

“They’re in our way,” Wes said. “We can’t go down yet. We’ve gotta go over to the shore and wait.” Wes guided us to the far right side of the river. Yellow-green
branches of weeping willows hung over and brushed the surface, forming a feathery, shifting screen.

I reached up and clasped a whip-like weeping willow branch.

“No! Don’t—” Wes started.

The next thing I knew, the raft swept under me. I did a back flip into the water. I heard Mom and Stephanie scream before I went under. Something slammed into my thigh. I felt rocks beneath me and tried to get my head above the waves. I sucked in a whole bunch of muddy-tasting water. Which way was up? Which way was air?
God help me!
I prayed. This is it, I thought. My foot slid between two rocks.

The current dragged the raft and yanked on my foot. My skin scraped against the rock. I gasped and gulped down gallons of water. My foot was at such a strange angle.

“Mom!” I tried to shout. A wave smacked me in the face and filled my mouth with water. I choked. I tried pulling my foot again. I heard splashing, a loud roaring in my head sounded like screams. Then strong arms were pulling at my shoulders, strong fingers grasped my ankle and released my foot from the rock. I grabbed and wrapped my arms around Mom, trying to hang on.

But when my eyes cleared of water I saw Mom
leaning out of the raft, reaching for me with a paddle, her face terrified. The person I was holding on to, the person I was practically strangling, was Norm.

“You’re okay,” he said, holding me. His arms were wrapped around me. The water wasn’t that cold but his teeth were chattering. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

I was pulled and lifted into the raft at the same time, and I laid there, catching my breath, shaking all over. Mom sat next to me, stroking my arm, murmuring soothing things.

“That was pretty swift there, Norm,” Wes said. “Having a swimmer just upriver of Gator Guts is not a good thing.” Wes had banked the raft along the edge between a rock and massive tree root. “You okay there, little lady?” he asked. I nodded, “What I’d been about to say is don’t ever grab something that’s onshore while the raft is still moving!”

“Well, she’s okay and that’s what matters,” Norm said. I could feel his solid warm hand still resting lightly on my shoulder.

My ankle was scraped and bleeding. A bad bruise was starting to throb on my thigh, but Mom said nothing was broken or sprained. The high school guys had finally cleared the rapids. Their raft was a tiny yellow dot disappearing around the river bend. Wes said it was time to go.

I took a deep breath and glanced at Stephanie. “You okay?” Stephanie said.

I nodded and grinned. “Never grab on to anything onshore while the raft is still moving.”

“Got it.”

“And never try to stand up in the river!”

“Right.”

“All paddle!” Wes yelled.

I leaned into my oar as the rock loomed, the size of an elephant this time.

“Right back! Right back!”

I paddled. I glanced at Mom, who still looked pale, but she raised her eyebrows, smiled, and showed me crossed fingers.

“Paddle harder, right!” Wes shouted. “Give it everything! Don’t hold back!”

The rock was ten yards away. Steph was practically crying with the effort of the rowing.

“Come on, Stephanie,” Norm yelled.

“Come on, Steph, you’re doing great!” I shouted.

The rock was on us. We weren’t going to make it.

“Shove your oars into the side of the rock and push the raft away,” Wes yelled. “Now!”

Stephanie and Norm shoved their oars into the side of the rock with all their might. The raft slid three feet to the right and spun around, so we were poised
backward above a five-foot drop into a boiling, roaring white pit. My brain sizzled. I thought my heart would explode.

And then, like going down an elevator, we dropped with a loud whoosh. Walls of water came from everywhere! Stephanie screamed.

“All paddle! All paddle!” shouted Wes.

The raft did a full three hundred sixty-degree turn. Boiling white water rocketed us into the surging current. We bumped through the rapids like a horse trotting over a gravel road. And with an amazing suddenness, the roar of the water quieted and the raft began to glide. No one had the energy to say a word. I sat in a stupor with my oar on my lap, waiting for my heart to slow down.

“Congratulations, folks,” Wes said at last. “You’ve just survived and conquered Gator Guts, the toughest class four rapids on the Big Pigeon. Take-out is just ahead.”

“Yeee-hiii!” Stephanie shouted.

Wild Wes stretched his arms over his head and yawned. On his bicep, the sea monster’s scales glistened. “The king of the river welcomes tips from all survivors.”

I breathed out and felt light-headed with relief and joy. The muscles in my legs and arms twitched. My ankle ached. Mom squeezed my shoulder.

I felt kind of self-conscious about Norm, since he’d sort of saved my life. I didn’t look at him, but I smiled at Stephanie and trailed my fingers in the silky water.