Touching Spirit Bear (14 page)

C
OLE TOOK A
deep breath. “I think Peter should come here to the island.”

“That’s not possible,” Edwin said firmly. “And you know that.”

“No, I don’t know that.”

“His parents would never allow him here alone with you.”

“Then you come and stay, too,” Cole countered. “Peter needs to soak in the pond and carry the ancestor rock. He needs to learn how to be invisible and to dance and to carve his totem. He needs to see the Spirit Bear.”

Edwin shook his head. “I have fishing season starting. And besides, I’m not sure being around you is what Peter needs.”

“I know he’s afraid of me and what I did,” Cole said. “He thinks I’m a monster that’s coming back to get him. Maybe if he meets me again face-to-face, he’ll see I’ve changed. And maybe he’ll see that he can heal, too.”

Edwin rubbed at his stubbled chin. “How much have you
really
changed?”

Cole felt no anger, but he was tired of trying to prove himself to Edwin. He was tired of trying to prove himself to the world. “There are two choices,” he said. “Give Peter the same chance I’ve had here on the island, or give up and watch him commit suicide. Which would you pick?”

Edwin shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”

“It will be if you don’t do something soon. I
have
changed, but Peter’s parents don’t know that. They’ll listen to you. Maybe Garvey could come with him.”

“What makes you think that Garvey has the time to come out here to this island to baby-sit you? The world doesn’t revolve around Cole Matthews.”

Tears blurred Cole’s vision. “This isn’t about me now,” he insisted. “This is about Peter. I don’t know what else to say—that’s the best idea I have.” His voice broke. “I screwed up, and I’m doing the very best I can out here on this island. But it won’t ever be enough, will it? I can’t ever change what I did to Peter! And I can’t ever change how you think about me.”

“You’re right; you can’t change what you did to Peter,” said Edwin, his voice softer. “But you
have changed.” He studied Cole, whose cheeks glistened with tears. He laid a gentle hand on Cole’s shoulder. “Whatever happens, you have changed here on the island. Both Garvey and I know that, and we’re very proud of you.”

Before leaving that day, Edwin asked one more question. “Would you be willing to stay here longer if it meant helping Peter?”

“I’d stay my whole life if that’s what it took.”

In the days that followed Edwin’s surprise visit, Cole spent long periods standing beside the totem log, staring down at the blank space still at the bottom. His dance of anger had really been the dance of forgiveness and healing. But try as he might, he could think of no shape, form, or object that he could carve to show healing. Nor could he think of any other way to help Peter.

Days plodded by slowly. Cole wavered, one day hoping that Peter might come to the island, the next day frightened of the idea. All the while, in the back of his mind, he knew he was a fool for even considering such a thing. No person in his right mind would ever go to an island in Alaska to be alone with someone who had beaten him senseless.

Nearly two weeks passed before Edwin returned. Cole was sitting in the cabin reading a
book when he heard the high-pitched whine of an outboard engine along with the deep growl of a second engine. He ran to the shoreline in time to see two boats round the point and enter the bay. Edwin’s small skiff led the way, followed by a large green fishing trawler. Both boats plowed along, their wakes spreading out behind them like huge fans on the glassy water.

Cole could see Edwin alone in the skiff. On the deck of the fishing trawler, two people stood together near the back. Someone else sat alone near the bow. Cole squinted. The person sitting alone on the bow looked smaller than the rest. Cole’s heart raced as the boat drew nearer. It was Peter Driscal.

With the boats still a hundred yards out from shore, Cole recognized Garvey’s stocky bulldog figure at the helm inside the cabin. And he recognized Peter’s parents. What were they doing on the boat?

Garvey guided the fishing trawler to a stop a stone’s throw out from shore and dropped anchor. Edwin steered the aluminum skiff alongside. In minutes, everybody had crawled into the small boat to come ashore. Everyone but Edwin wore heavy jackets and tall rubber boots.

Waiting alone on the shoreline, Cole gave a hesitant wave. Only Garvey waved back. Peter sat
near the back, his head down. He glanced up once fearfully, then returned to gazing down between his knees. His parents simply stared.

Cole caught the bow as the boat landed. He steadied the skiff so everyone could crawl ashore. Garvey and Edwin both said hello as they climbed onto the rocks. Garvey even gave Cole a friendly slap on the back. Peter’s parents nodded stiffly. Peter remained in the boat, glaring fearfully at Cole.

“Hi, Peter. I’m glad you came,” Cole said.

Still Peter refused to come ashore.

Garvey walked over and took the bow. “Give him some space,” he whispered.

Cole retreated up the rocks, and finally Peter crawled stiffly ashore. Edwin helped Garvey pull the boat up on the rocks and tie the rope off to a large rock. Cole glanced nervously at the group. After being alone on this island for so long, he was uncomfortable around this many people, especially Peter.

Edwin motioned everyone up to the fire pit. Peter took awkward steps, as if struggling forward into a gusty wind. The rest walked in silence except for Garvey. “How have you been, Champ?” he asked.

“Good, I guess,” Cole answered.

“Been soaking in the pond every morning?”

Cole nodded. “It’s been too cold most of the winter. The last few weeks I’ve been soaking as long as I can stand it.”

Edwin stopped beside the fire pit and invited everyone to pull up a rock or a piece of driftwood for a seat. He worked at starting a fire. Peter pulled his chunk of wood away from everyone else and sat alone, gazing along the shoreline and out across the bay. After the fire was blazing, Edwin sat down, too. “You’re all a long way from Minneapolis,” he said. “We’re not going to pretend this is anything it isn’t.” Edwin turned to Cole. “I have fishing season coming, so Garvey will be staying here with you and Peter.”

Cole turned to Garvey. “How did you get time off?”

“I had a bunch of vacation time built up, and I took a leave of absence. Coming here was something I needed as badly as you and Peter.”

Cole looked at Peter’s parents. “Are you guys staying, too?”

Mr. Driscal spoke forcefully, looking directly at Cole. “Bringing Peter here might be a huge mistake, but we had no other choice. This has been harder for us than you can ever imagine. We’ll be staying until we’re positive that he’s safe. Nothing is going to hurt him again.”

Cole swallowed a lump that came to his
throat. “I’ll never hurt anyone again,” he said. “That’s a promise.”

Edwin leveled his gaze at Cole. “A lot has happened in the last two weeks. Garvey and I have lived on the phone. The Circle agreed to gather again for many long hours of discussion. Mr. and Mrs. Driscal, as well as Peter, have been forced to make one of the most difficult decisions of their life.” Edwin raised a finger at Cole. “And all because of one thoughtless moment on your part.”

Cole nodded weakly.

Edwin stood. “Tonight Peter and his parents can sleep out on the trawler. Garvey and I will stay here in the cabin with you, Cole.”

Peter continued staring out across the bay.

“Cole,” Edwin said, “I want you to tell everyone about your time here on the island. If it takes all afternoon, I want you to show us everything you’ve been through. Everything, from the first minute you came ashore until now.”

Peter’s parents eyed Cole curiously, but Peter remained silent and apart, digging his toe into the mossy grass.

Cole pointed to the shoreline. “It all started when Edwin and Garvey first brought me here a year and a half ago. Edwin had already built a cabin for me.” With an embarrassed smile, he
added, “The cabin was a lot better than this one I built, but I burned it down. I was so mad, I couldn’t think straight. I hated Edwin, and Garvey, and you guys. I hated the Circle, and this island, and everything on it.”

Cole pressed his hands against his knees so that nobody would see his fingers shaking. He took a deep breath and told how after burning the cabin down, he had tried to escape by swimming. He pointed. “That’s where the first cabin was, and that’s where I dragged myself to after trying to swim away from the island. The tide pushed me back to shore. I slept there in the hot ashes.”

Cole told about seeing the Spirit Bear. “Edwin had told me about them,” he said, “but he said they lived much farther south of here off the British Columbia coastline. When I saw one down the shore staring at me, I tried to kill it.”

“Why did you want to kill the bear?” asked Mrs. Driscal. “What had it done to you?”

Cole paused, licking at his dry lips. “It made me mad that the bear wasn’t afraid of me. I wanted to destroy anything that defied me. Does that make sense?” When nobody answered, Cole motioned for everyone to follow him. “Come, I’ll show you where I was attacked.”

Everybody stood to follow except Peter.

“Come, dear.” Mrs. Driscal gently coaxed Peter by pulling on his arm. Reluctantly he got up and followed her. Again he walked awkwardly, stumbling often.

Cole showed where he had tried to kill the bear and told how he had been mauled. As best as he could, he recounted every painful memory of the next two days. He told how the bear had licked up his spit and how he had finally touched the Spirit Bear. He even told how he ate the mouse.

“That’s the tree the lightning knocked down,” he said, pointing to what was now only a rotting log. He found himself blinking back tears as he told about the baby sparrows. “I deserved to die,” he said. “They didn’t. But that was the first time I was really scared that I
might
die. That was when I first started thinking about my life and cared about something besides myself. And that was when Edwin and Garvey found me.”

Cole talked about his rehabilitation after being rescued, and about returning to the island. He showed the group his scars and his bad arm. “If you want, I’ll show you the pond where I go to soak every morning.” When Edwin nodded, Cole led the way, explaining how soaking cleared his mind. He also told about seeing the Spirit Bear again.

When they reached the pond, Peter’s father asked, “Will we see the Spirit Bear today?”

Cole shook his head. “I don’t think so. Not with this many of us here. Tomorrow morning, whoever wants to can join me for a soak in the pond. Sometimes the Spirit Bear comes and watches me soak.” When nobody volunteered, he added with a smile, “This time of year, the water is really cold.”

After showing them the pond and the ancestor rock, Cole headed back toward camp. The group hiked quietly, each person lost in thought. When they reached camp, Cole explained how he had built the cabin, then he returned to the fire pit. “This is where I dance all my dances,” he said. Last of all, he showed the group his totem and explained the lessons learned with each carving. When he reached the blank spot at the bottom, he hesitated.

“What are you going to carve down there?” asked Garvey.

Cole shrugged. “I haven’t decided yet.” He didn’t want to talk about the uncarved space.

Before Cole could change the subject, Edwin spoke up. “Why don’t you tell us why you haven’t decided yet.”

Cole struggled to keep his voice steady as he told of the long night around the fire and his
dance of anger. “My dad has beaten me my whole life,” he explained. “But I know now he never meant to hurt me. He was beaten by his father, and that’s all he knew.” Cole swallowed a big lump that had formed in his throat. “I learned to forgive,” he said. “Not just others, but also myself.” He turned and caught Peter looking at him.

“When I beat you up,” he said. “I never meant to hurt you. It was all I knew.”

“You still didn’t say why you haven’t carved anything in that space on the totem,” Edwin persisted.

Cole’s voice quivered. “Because the dance of anger taught me I can’t heal until I help Peter to heal. He’s the one I hurt.”

“Leave me alone,” Peter blurted, turning away. “I don’t want your help!”

T
HAT EVENING
C
OLE
fixed his favorite meal for everyone. As he chopped hot dogs into the spaghetti sauce, he told the group how Garvey had taught him that life was a hot dog. “Tonight will be a feast because we make it a feast,” he said. As he cooked, it began raining. Everybody retreated into the small cabin, sitting crowded on the bed, chairs, and stumps that Garvey carried in.

When Cole finished preparing supper, he spread the at.óow on the small table. He explained the colorful blanket’s special meaning. “I only use this when a night is extra special,” he said. “Now, let’s eat!”

Everyone ate off paper plates held on their laps. Peter toyed with his fork.

“Honey, why aren’t you eating?” asked Peter’s mother.

Peter looked up and blurted, “I’m not sleeping in here with him.”

“It’s okay, son,” said Mr. Driscal. “Garvey will be here. He’ll make sure that Cole won’t—”

“You don’t have to sleep in this cabin with me if you don’t want to,” Cole interrupted.

“That’s right,” Edwin said. “I’ve brought along a tent. Cole can sleep outside until you change your mind.”

Peter eyed Cole with distrust, still refusing to eat. Half an hour later, he returned to the trawler with his parents to sleep. His food sat untouched.

The next morning Cole hiked alone to the pond. He soaked as long as he could, his calmness shaken by how terrified Peter was of him. How could he have once wanted someone to feel that way? No matter how deeply he breathed, soaking failed to take away his troubled thoughts. When he returned to camp, he found that Edwin had already brought Peter and his parents in from the trawler. They stood on the shore saying good-bye to Garvey.

Cole overheard Peter arguing with his parents. “But Dad, I don’t want to stay here alone with him!” he pleaded.

“I’ve already explained; you won’t be alone. Garvey’s here. You’ll be okay—this is something you
must
do.”

When Peter turned and saw Cole approaching, he turned away. Cole went on to the cabin.

Before leaving, Edwin visited Cole in the cabin. “Mr. and Mrs. Driscal decided to leave this morning,” he said. “They had planned to stay longer, but realized they can’t protect Peter from himself. After yesterday, I think they saw that you are no longer the problem.”

“He’s so scared of me,” Cole said.

Edwin poured a last splash of coffee in his mug and took a sip. “Be as patient with Peter as we’ve been with you,” he said. “Don’t crowd him.”

Peter’s father appeared in the doorway. “Can I have a word with you alone?” he said to Cole.

Cole glanced at Edwin, then followed Mr. Driscal outside. They walked together up into the trees, where they were out of earshot of everyone else. Mr. Driscal turned and spoke in a warning voice. “You have changed some since we saw you back in Minneapolis—I’ll allow you that much. But I also want to tell you, we haven’t forgotten for a second what you did to our son. Not a day goes by that we don’t think back to when you assaulted Peter. None of our lives will ever be the same again.”

Cole lowered his head.

“I don’t like the idea of Peter being here one bit,” Mr. Driscal continued. “We would never have forced him to come up here like this if we
thought there was any other choice. After his second suicide attempt, Garvey convinced us that Peter needs to face you or be haunted by his memories the rest of his life.” Mr. Driscal poked a stiff finger at Cole’s chest. “If you do
anything
to hurt our son now, God help me, you’ll go to jail until you rot. Do you understand me?”

Cole nodded. “Mr. Driscal, this island can help Peter. I know you still don’t trust me, but that’s the truth.”

“I’ve warned you,” Mr. Driscal said as he turned and headed for the boat.

Cole returned to the cabin.

“What did Mr. Driscal have to say?” Edwin asked.

“He just wished me a good day,” said Cole, avoiding Edwin’s eyes.

“Yeah, I’ll bet he did.”

“He has a right to be mad at me,” said Cole.

Edwin set his cup on the table and headed out the door. “Stay up here in the cabin until we’re gone,” he said. “I’m leaving the skiff with Garvey in case you have any problems.”

Cole watched through the window as everyone crawled into the skiff. Peter remained sitting on the shore. As Garvey motored out to the trawler, Peter glanced fearfully over his shoulder as if he thought someone might attack him. Even
after Garvey returned to shore, Peter remained sitting by the water, staring at the trawler motor from the bay.

Garvey returned to the cabin. Cole got up from his seat by the window and went to the cooler. There were only four candy bars left. He picked out a Snickers bar and started out the door.

“Where are you going?” asked Garvey.

“I have to try something,” Cole said. He walked slowly down across the rocks toward Peter. When he was twenty feet away, the sound of his footsteps made Peter look up.

“Stay away from me!” Peter screamed, scrambling to get up.

Cole backed away. “Peter, I’m not going to hurt you.” He held out the candy bar. “I just brought you this.”

“Get away!” Peter screamed again.

Cole crouched and set the Snickers bar on a rock, then turned and retreated to the cabin. He sat down again by the window.

“Give him time,” said Garvey.

During the next half hour, Peter glanced at the candy bar several times but didn’t move toward it. Finally Cole pulled out his schoolwork and began working on his math. After a full hour, he rocked back in the chair and rubbed at his eyes. “How are my parents?” he asked.

Garvey set down a book he was reading and looked up. “Your mother is doing great and sends her love. Your father has filed a lawsuit to have the abuse charges against him dropped. He’s also filed for your custody.”

“You mean he wants to take me away from my mom?”

“I think it’s a matter of pride. He thinks he can always get his way and doesn’t want anyone or anything to win out over him.”

Cole traced the eraser of his pencil across the table. “I used to be like that.”

“I know you did.”

“Do you think he’ll win?” asked Cole.

Garvey shook his head. “Over my dead body.”

Cole set down his pencil. “I haven’t talked to you in a long time,” he said. “Thanks for standing by me and for everything else you’ve done. How can I ever pay you back?”

Garvey pointed toward the shore. “Pay me back by not giving up on Peter.”

Cole looked out the window and saw that Peter was still sitting on the shore, but the Snickers bar was gone. Cole smiled. “I won’t give up on him.”

When another two hours passed without Peter moving, Garvey went out to talk to him.
Even after coaxing, Peter refused to enter the cabin until Cole had left and set up a tent nearly a hundred yards away.

All afternoon Cole sat in the tent. After dark, Garvey brought out some hot supper. “How long do I stay out here?” Cole asked, shivering as he wolfed down the warm food.

“How long does somebody stay scared when they’ve been beaten senseless?” Garvey asked bluntly. “Good night.”

Cole watched Garvey return to the warm cabin. Garvey and Peter were sleeping, warm and comfortable, in a cabin he had made with his own two hands. Here he was, sleeping in a leaky tent in the drizzle and wind. Instead of starting a fire in the pit, Cole crawled into his sleeping bag and went to sleep early.

When he rose the next morning, he forced himself to crawl from the warm sleeping bag and pull on his stiff cold clothes. Before heading to the pond, he knocked on the cabin door and called softly, “I’m going to the pond. Anybody going with me?”

“What time is it?” Garvey asked, his voice hoarse.

Cole realized he hadn’t looked at a clock in nearly a year. “It’s time to go soak in the pond. That’s what time it is,” he said.

“Give us five minutes,” Garvey said.

“I don’t want to go soak in any pond,” Peter mumbled.

“We’ll just go along and watch,” Garvey said.

Cole saw a lantern flicker in the window, and he heard movement inside. Soon Garvey and Peter emerged from the cabin, both wearing their rubber boots and heavy jackets. Immediately Cole set out through the dark heavy mist, walking slowly so Peter could keep up. He heard the distinct shuffle of Peter’s awkward footsteps behind him.

When they reached the pond, Cole realized that he had forgotten to bring a towel, but it didn’t matter. He could use his undershirt. He stripped and entered the frigid water. Peter and Garvey sat down on the bank to watch. It was nearly the beginning of May, but still the icy water pierced Cole’s skin like millions of tiny needles. He waded in, forcing steady breaths until he reached the rock ledge on the far side. Eyes closed, he heard Garvey’s muffled voice speaking to Peter on the other side of the pond, but he couldn’t make out what was said.

Cole soaked until his breaths felt chilled, then he waded back to shore. His body had numbed to the bone, but he didn’t rush. During the last year, he had grown accustomed to the icy water. No
longer did it take his breath away as it had when he first came here with Edwin. “Do you guys want to carry the ancestor rock with me?” he asked, as he wiped dry with his undershirt.

“I’ve explained the ancestor rock to Peter,” Garvey said. “We’ll hike along and watch you.”

Cole picked up the large rock and started up the slope. He led the way, never pausing or looking back. By the time he reached the top, his bad arm ached but he still breathed normally. Peter and Garvey both breathed hard, and heavy sweat beaded on their foreheads.

“Now my ancestor rock becomes my anger,” Cole explained, setting the big rock down. He turned to Peter. “You can push it down the hill if you want.”

Peter shook his head.

“I’ll do it then,” Cole said, giving the rock a hard shove. As the rock tumbled down the hill, Cole closed his eyes. “When I hear that sound, I imagine my anger leaving,” he explained. He waited until the crashing rock came to a stop at the bottom, remained motionless for a moment longer, then opened his eyes and started down the slope.

Nobody spoke as they worked their way back downstream.

“Do you need help with anything?” Garvey
asked as they arrived back in camp.

“I need to collect more firewood if I’m going to be staying outside much longer.”

“Do you feel like helping us collect firewood?” Garvey asked Peter.

Peter turned and walked to the shore, and stared off at the horizon without answering.

“What’s his problem?” Cole said.

“You,” Garvey replied.

“But I hope he knows we’re collecting this firewood because of him,” Cole whispered.

Garvey answered quickly, “I hope you know that everybody’s up here because of
you
.”

Cole began collecting wood.

Day after day went by with no change in Peter. He refused to speak, doing whatever Garvey asked of him but no more. He hiked along each morning to the pond but never soaked. When he ate or walked, he moved zombielike, in slow motion. Cole quit trying to make conversation with him.

Nearly two full weeks after Peter’s arrival, they all hiked up the hill one morning with Cole carrying the ancestor rock. When he set the rock down at the top, he paused a moment to rest. Without warning, Peter reached down and gave the rock a hard shove. He stood with his lips
bunched, watching until the rock crashed to a stop at the bottom.

“That was a good push,” Cole told him.

The rest of the day Peter remained withdrawn as usual, avoiding Cole.

Three days later, while Cole was cooking lunch in the fire pit, a rock struck the ground only feet away. Cole turned to find Peter beside the shore, pitching stones into the water as if nothing had happened. Cole looked at the stone that had almost hit him and realized his hands were clenched into fists.

He never told Garvey about the stone, but he kept a close eye on Peter. The next incident occurred with Garvey along two days later as they were hiking to the pond. It was early in the morning, and Cole had just jumped from one rock to another in the stream. All of a sudden Peter bumped him hard from behind and sent him sprawling into the water. Soaking wet, Cole picked himself up. He found Peter watching him with a smirk.

“Why did you do that?” Cole asked.

“I didn’t mean to bump you,” Peter said innocently.

Garvey said nothing as Cole continued to the pond.

“I’m skipping my soak this morning,” Cole
said, “because I don’t have any dry clothes to change into. But I’ll still carry the ancestor rock.” As he turned to pick up the rock, he discovered Peter stripping off his clothes. The thin boy ran stumbling into the shallow water, holding his arms above his head. He waded forward, gasping and grunting loudly.

Peter never made it across to the rocks. When the water reached his chest, he turned and waded back out. His teeth chattered as he dried himself with his undershirt.

That morning, after they returned to camp, Peter seemed more relaxed. He spoke to Cole without being spoken to first. “Don’t you get frozen when you soak in the pond?” he asked.

Cole smiled. “The first time I soaked last year, I thought my head would crack open and my toes would fall off. But you get used to it.”

“I don’t want to get used to it,” Peter muttered. He headed toward the cabin without looking back.

As the days passed, the air grew warmer but the rain came daily. Every morning Cole hung his sleeping bag up in the cabin to dry off. “I’m going to give Edwin a leaky tent for Christmas,” he complained to Garvey.

Peter returned to being sullen, refusing to
talk. Garvey went about each day, joking with both boys as usual. He kept delivering warm meals to Cole in the tent. Nearly a month had passed since Peter arrived on the island. Twice Edwin had stopped by to drop off supplies and to check up on them. He never stayed for long.

One day a hard rain fell, and Cole stayed inside the tent. Hour after hour, the steady downpour soaked through the seams, soaking Cole’s sleeping bag and clothes. Midafternoon, Garvey brought out food. He stared at Cole, huddled with his arms wrapped around his knees. “Dang, it’s cold out here, Champ,” he said. “I’m going back inside.”