Howl Read online

  HOWL

  by Karen Hood-Caddy

  To my grandmother, Ruth Griffith

  Chapter

  One

  Robin sat on her bed, her ears stiff with listening. The doorbell pinged again. She could hear her father and sister greeting the new guests. There was a bluster of sound as everyone said their hellos, then the voices faded as the new group moved into the living room and joined the general hubbub of the party.

  She slid her open palms along her slacks to dry them. She wished she didn’t have to go down there, wished she didn’t have to see their big, wet eyes, wished she didn’t have to hear one more person say, “I’m sorry….”

  But maybe they wouldn’t talk that way today. After all, it was her birthday, her twelfth birthday. Time to stop acting like a baby.

  The problem was, she felt like a baby. Even now she could feel tears pooling on the rims of her eyes. She mashed her lips together so they couldn’t wobble and pushed the cuffs of her sleeves into her eyes to sop up the wetness. She was not going to cry.

  “You’ll get over it.”

  That’s what people had been saying to her lately.

  But they lied. She would never get over it. Ever.

  The doorbell rang again. Relentless shifted her sixty pound Black Labrador body and eyed Robin impatiently.

  “I know. You want to be down there saying hello to everyone.”

  Relentless shifted from one front paw to another, her gaze riveted on Robin.

  “Go then.”

  Relentless furrowed her brows but didn’t move.

  “Can I take your coat?” Ari was asking someone.

  Robin frowned. She hated it when her sister acted like the mom. Who does she think she is?

  “Where’s the birthday girl?” someone called up the stairs.

  Robin froze. Don’t. Don’t come up here! She listened for sounds on the stairs but only heard talking, then a loud burst of laughter. She turned her head sharply, as if she’d been slapped. How can they act like this? As if nothing happened?

  Seeking distraction, she let her eyes roam over the bedroom she shared with Ari. On her sister’s night table, the glossy faces of women smiled from the front of a magazine. The headline beneath the faces said, Thinner Thighs Now! Beside the magazine was Ari’s make-up case. The size of a workman’s toolbox, it held creams and colours, brushes, and blushes. Ari, only fourteen, already knew that she wanted to be a model. Tall and skinny, she’d been play-acting the part for years.

  Robin leaned back against her pillow. Her side of the room was covered with books and test tubes and microscopes, none of which she’d touched for months. She sighed. Once upon a time she’d had the idea of being a scientist or inventor. She’d even thought about becoming a vet like her father. But that was before.

  In the “before” time, her dad used to bring home books from the animal clinic and explain medical terms and diseases. In the “before” time, she and her sister had used to get along. In the “before” time — Robin stopped herself. Her chest felt squishy remembering.

  Relentless nudged Robin’s hand with her snout.

  “Soon,” Robin said softly. Why do I have to have this stupid party anyway? And why wasn’t it planned on a weekend when Kaylie could come? As it was, there were only going to be a bunch of boring relatives.

  She stroked Relentless, touching the velvety fur just behind her ears. Then she slid her hand down to her dog’s swollen underbelly. Leaning over until her cheek touched the side of her dog’s body, she whispered, “Hello, little babies.”

  She wished her father wasn’t so angry about Relentless being pregnant. Of course, he blamed her for leaving the gate open, which she had. She’d even seen the other dog, some sort of German Shepherd. She’d shooed it away, but by then, of course, it was too late. For weeks afterwards, she’d kept Relentless out of her father’s sight. By the time he noticed the swelling in her dog’s belly, Relentless’s pregnancy was well established.

  “Why didn’t you tell me about seeing the other dog?” he’d shouted. “If I’d known early enough, I could have put an end to things.”

  What did he mean “put an end to things”? Did he mean kill them? Would he have done that?

  He had looked at her sternly. “The last thing we need right now is more chaos. Don’t we have enough to deal with?”

  Robin sighed remembering his words. Even now, they landed on her chest like fists.

  Hearing socked feet thumping up the stairs, Relentless banged her tail against the bed frame.

  Squirm rushed into the room. Robin smiled at him. He smelled like buttery popcorn.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling her arm. “There’s presents! Millions of them.”

  Robin tensed. He was wheezing. When she went downstairs, she’d better check to see if his inhaler was on top of the fridge where it was supposed to be.

  She let Squirm lead her down the stairs. Relentless trotted behind them like a concerned nanny.

  The living room was full of people and balloons. After saying hi to everyone, Robin searched for her father and saw him slouched in a chair, staring out the window, a red party hat askew on his head. She looked away. She hated it when he did his staring-into-space thing.

  She looked over at the food table and saw Ari surrounded by a group of male cousins. How could anyone so annoying be so popular?

  When Ari saw her, she tossed back her long blonde hair and came over. “About time you showed up.”

  Robin waved her arm in front of her face like a windshield wiper. As usual, Ari’s perfume was overpowering. Squirm sneezed, then sneezed again.

  “Nice dress,” Ari said.

  Robin looked down at her pants. She was in the middle of giving her sister her best scowl when she noticed the gold necklace. Their mother’s. Robin wanted to yank it off her sister’s neck. It was bad enough that Ari looked like their mom. To have her wearing their mother’s stuff was just too much.

  “Here comes the rhino,” Ari said under her breath.

  Robin turned to see her aunt’s stumpy figure heading their way. She held a tray of drinks towards them.

  “Be nice to each other, you two,” Aunt Lizzie said. She kissed Robin on the cheek. “Have a pop, birthday girl.”

  When all three of them had chosen a drink, their aunt continued on, offering drinks to the others.

  Robin watched as her sister wiped the top of her pop can on her sleeve. Ari washed or wiped off everything — even bananas.

  Ari pulled the tab on the can and raised it to her mouth.

  “Look out for the spider,” Squirm said.

  Ari swung her arm away. A hiss of pop sprayed out, some of it getting on her top. She wiped the droplets away then scrutinized the can. “Very funny.”

  Squirm convulsed with laughter. “You’re such a girl! ” He looked as if he was going to laugh again, but coughed instead. Then coughed again. His hand flew to his chest as he fought for air.

  Moving quickly, Robin grabbed his puffer from the fridge and put it in his hand.

  Squirm rushed into a corner, turning his back to the party as he squirted a dose of the inhalant into his mouth.

  Robin’s throat felt hot. “Dad told you not to wear perfume around Squirm.” It was all she could do not to run upstairs and dump the perfume down the toilet.

  Ari arched her pencilled eyebrow then moved a strand of hair from her cheek with long, perfectly manicured fingers. Her nails were painted bubble gum pink. Robin despised bubble gum pink.

  Aunt Lizzie clapped her hands. “Attention. Attention everybody. We have a surprise.”

  Robin groaned.

  Aunt Lizzie waved at Squirm. “Okay, Squirmy, bring it in.”

  Squirm exchanged a look with Robin. It bugged him when someone called him “Squirmy.�
� Robin flicked her hand, as if swatting away a fly. Squirm nodded, pocketed his inhaler, and ran off. Within moments, he reappeared with a big yellow papier mâché piñata, shaped like a fish.

  “I made it.” He grinned at Robin. “It’s full of Smarties.”

  “Wow.” It had been a long time since she’d seen him grin like that.

  Her uncle stood on a chair and hung the piñata from the ceiling. He gave Robin a broom then wrapped a scarf around her eyes. Suddenly, everything was black. Fear squiggled in her belly. Hands arrived on her shoulders and spun her around. She lurched and widened her stance. She wanted to tear off the blindfold and run upstairs, but the thought of her brother’s smile made her stay.

  “Hit it, Robin! Smash it!” someone shouted.

  Robin raised the broom and sliced it through the empty air.

  “To the right. No, higher! Yeah! Hit it, there. No, there! ”

  Robin slashed the broom, trying to find something solid. She could hear her aunt talking in a lowered tone.

  “She’s taking it hard.”

  Robin swung the broom and edged nearer to the voices. Was her aunt talking about her?

  “Twelve is awfully young for something so terrible to —” another voice said, hushed and confidential.

  “And Squirmy’s only ten. That’s way too young to deal with death.”

  Robin hit out in various directions, pretending to be completely engrossed in finding the piñata. She waited for her aunt and friend to speak again. She didn’t have to wait long.

  “Ari seems to be handling it best of all.”

  “Well, she is fourteen. Fourteen going on eighteen, if you know what I mean.”

  “She’s cool as a cucumber, that one.”

  “Oh, she’s hurting, she’s just better at covering it up. I can’t imagine her living at Griff ’s.”

  “They’re moving to Griff ’s? In Ontario? Isn’t his mother a bit wacky?”

  Robin stumbled and bumped into a table. The sharp corner stabbed into her hip. Her dad was moving them to their grandmother’s? She lived in the middle of nowhere!

  “From Winnipeg to the back woods — that’s a bit much. But look at him. He’s got to get out of this house. He’s barely coping.”

  “It’s the grief. Makes a person crazy.”

  Robin wobbled. She felt dizzy, like she was going to pass out. Her hip throbbed.

  “But Griff! She’s so eccentric….”

  Robin stabbed the air. Didn’t “eccentric” mean “crazy”?

  “Gord’s telling them tomorrow.”

  Tomorrow! Something hot and furious blasted through Robin’s arm. She wouldn’t go. They couldn’t make her. She pulled her arms back and let the full force of her anger shoot into the broom. She grunted from the force. There was a smashing sound. Relentless barked, and Robin yanked off the blindfold.

  Ari looked up at the shattered light fixture. “Way to go, Robs.”

  Robin collapsed back against the wall and stared at her brother. He had tilted his face up to watch the sparks that were jetting away from the broken light like fireworks.

  His voice was full of awe. “Cool!”

  Robin shut her eyes. It was the only way to make the entire room disappear.

  Chapter

  Two

  Robin hefted the last heavy box and carried it through the house. The sound of her footsteps echoed through the empty rooms. She could hardly believe this place used to be her home. The walls had strange, light-coloured squares on them where the pictures used to hang, and there were gashes in the carpet where the legs of the furniture had pushed big round indentations into the rug.

  She heaved the box into the van, dug her way deep into the back and arranged a place for herself and Relentless. She crossed her arms tightly. It was stupid making them move. Beyond stupid. And why now? It was the beginning of March break, and all her friends were off doing fun stuff, but not her. Her entire holiday was going to be lost to packing, travelling, and unpacking.

  “I know it’s asking a lot of you kids,” her father had said when he’d told them. “But I —”

  A long, empty pause had followed. Robin had waited for Ari to protest. After all, Ari was the one with all the friends — friends she was either hanging out with or talking to on the phone. But she hadn’t argued at all. She’d simply put her hand over her father’s and said in a small, baby-like voice, “It’s okay, Daddy.”

  But it wasn’t okay! It was gross making them leave their house, their school, their friends. The old family cottage at Leech Lake was fun to visit in the summer, but to live there? With Griff? The last time they’d been, Griff had just shot a wild turkey and was trying to get them all to help pull the feathers off. Squirm had done it eagerly, but Ari had just about lost her lunch. Then there were the leeches. Robin shivered. And the new school. And the new kids she’d have to face.

  Now, sitting in the van, the stupidity of the move seemed colossal. She should just get out of the car right now and take off. Kaylie had said she’d hide her in the family shed. Robin would have gone if she could have taken Relentless. But she couldn’t exactly hide a dog! And there was no way she would ever give Relentless up. Her mother had given her the dog. They’d picked her out together from a mass of squirming puppies. The memory of that day cut into her before she could stop it. She dug her knuckles into her eye sockets in a vain attempt to push the tears back in. Then she tightened the muscles of her chest and back, pulling her arms and neck firmly into her body until she was rigid. Anything to stop the feelings.

  The car door squeaked, and Squirm climbed into the front seat. Her father and Ari climbed in as well.

  “Goodbye, caterpillars,” Squirm crooned. “Goodbye, ladybugs. Goodbye, bumblebees.”

  His father leaned into him. “There are lots of insects at Leech Lake.”

  “How could we forget,” Ari said. “I had mosquito bites and blackfly bites on every part of my body the last time I was there. Even in my ears!”

  Their father carried on. “And there are ducks and loons and big animals too, like deer and moose — even bears sometimes. I used to track them when I was your age.”

  “Bears?” Squirm’s voice rose, then fell. “I still wish we could stay here….”

  Hearing the longing in his voice, Robin jammed in her ear buds and began scrolling through her playlists. The car started to back out of the driveway. She refused to look up.

  “Wait!” Squirm cried. “Owlie! We forgot Owlie!”

  Although Robin wouldn’t have minded forgetting the old stuffed owl, she was surprised her father had. But then he was forgetting things all the time lately. Last week, he’d gone shopping and left his wallet at home, and a few weekends ago, he’d dressed to go to work on a Sunday.

  “He’s in the backyard,” Squirm cried, just in case his dad needed reminding. Their father got out of the car and headed off around the house. Squirm leaned back towards Robin.

  He kept his voice low. “What if she comes back?”

  “Squirm —” Ari said. Her voice sounded hollow and tired. And very, very sad. Squirm strained further towards Robin. He whispered, “But what if, I mean, what if there was a mistake and she didn’t really die, and she came to find us and —” His small face contorted.

  Robin sat quietly looking at her brother. How could so many freckles get packed into such a small area? She reached out and moved her fingers through his reddish corkscrew curls. He needed a haircut. Their mother used to take him to a barber named Joe, but no one remembered where Joe worked.

  Robin drew in a long breath. She knew she should say their mother was never coming back, but she couldn’t get her tongue to say such a thing. Besides, Squirm knew that. “We gave the neighbours our new address, remember?”

  Ari let out a hot, irritated breath. Squirm’s face softened, and he turned in his seat.

  Robin’s door opened, and her father positioned the huge stuffed owl beside her. The owl was almost two feet tall and had fluffy white, tan,
and black feathers and large yellow eyes. Robin was used to her father’s stuffed animals. He had a friend who was a taxidermist, so there had been many over the years. But today she just didn’t feel like having a gigantic dead thing staring at her. She slunk down in her seat. Just when she thought life sucked to the max, there was something that made it suck more.

  On the highway, an endless line of grey concrete buildings spewed charcoal-coloured smoke into the blanket of smog that covered the city. No wonder the air stinks, Robin thought. It put a funny taste in her mouth too. Last year, when she’d been the president of her Environmental Club, she’d read about all the toxins people carried around in their bodies from pollution. Why don’t people stop it? Because they don’t care, that’s why. She wasn’t going to care either.

  She let herself drift off to sleep. When she awoke, all she could see were farmers’ fields. As they travelled towards Ontario, the fields became snowier, and soon there were huge hills of snow on either side of the road. Robin couldn’t see over them, so she was forced to stare ahead at the long black highway that snaked through the white landscape. Where were they driving to, the Arctic?

  A car passed them on the highway. Robin looked at the people inside. The dad was driving, and two kids were in the back. The mom was up front. The woman smiled at Robin as they went by. Robin turned away quickly.

  She slept again and woke to the sound of ice pelting the car. The highway had narrowed, and the huge snowbanks on the sides seemed to press against them. Robin felt as if she couldn’t breathe. Relentless made little whimpering noises in her sleep.

  Ari called out, “Dinner time.” She leaned into the back seat and held out a sandwich.

  Robin ignored the offering. Ari was acting like the mom again.

  Ari glared and pushed the sandwich towards her.

  Robin made no move to take it. Ari slammed it down on Robin’s jeans, and peanut butter squished out the sides. Relentless stared, her mouth watering. Robin opened the window and tossed the sandwich out. Relentless gave her a look of anguished disapproval.