I WAS MAD,” Cole said, glancing nervously around the Circle. “When I went to the island, I wasn’t thinking straight. I didn’t realize you were all trying to help me. I thought sending me away was just your way of getting rid of me. I went there just to avoid jail.”
Cole struggled with his words. “I…I know now I was wrong, and I know I can’t go back to the island after what I did. That’s okay.” As he handed the feather to his mother, strong doubt showed in the eyes of the Circle members. He had lied to them so often, they were numb to his words now.
“I know Cole has changed some,” his mother began, her voice surprisingly strong. “Since the attack, I’ve seen a difference in his attitude. For the first time, he’s talked openly with me. I don’t know what should happen to him now. I feel like I’m just trying to pick up the pieces myself.” She dabbed at her eyes. “I just hope there are pieces left to pick up.” She handed the feather on.
As each member spoke, nobody argued for Cole’s release. Even Cole’s lawyer spoke in terms of a reduced jail term for good behavior. Each Circle member expressed regret for what had happened. All of them thought it was time to return the case to the courts.
The only person to speak in Cole’s defense was Garvey. “I don’t know what-all happened on that island,” he said. “But there has been a change in Cole; of that, I’m sure. Whatever we decide to do, I hope this change is allowed to continue.”
When Peter’s lawyer received the feather, she held it indifferently beside her as if it no longer held meaning. “This whole thing has to stop now,” she said strongly. “No more! Too many people have suffered and paid a price on account of Cole Matthews. Maybe someday he’ll find a way to be a productive member of society. For now, it’s the welfare of society that must be considered.
“Two days on an island is hardly enough time to change someone. This Circle needs to know that Peter Driscal is not rehabilitating well, either physically or emotionally. He has slurred speech and diminished coordination. This is Cole’s fault. It’s not something Cole can fix, but he can face the consequences. Even now, he refuses to admit the complete truth. I understand he claims that a pure white bear attacked him. Does he really expect anybody to believe such a thing? I’m told no such bear exists in the area he was sent.”
The lawyer spoke firmly. “Circle Justice has proven to be a waste of time. It’s time for Cole to face real consequences.” She handed the feather back to the Keeper.
The Keeper ran her fingers over the feather to straighten it, as if trying to fix the damage suffered by the Circle. When she finished, she turned to Edwin. “Do you have anything to share?”
Edwin nodded. “Can I ask Cole to help me with a demonstration?” When the Keeper nodded, Edwin stood and walked to the open end of the room. He motioned for Cole to follow him. Every eye followed their movements.
“Okay,” the Tlingit elder began. “Let’s pretend this line is life.” He pointed out a seam in the linoleum flooring that crossed the room. He placed Cole on one side and stood himself on the other. “Cole and I are going to walk the length of this line as if going through life together. This line represents a bad path that I want Cole to move away from. I have two ways to get him away.”
Edwin began leaning into Cole as they walked forward. Cole instinctively pushed back. They walked forward, pushing on each other harder and harder. Soon they were both struggling. When they reached the other end, Edwin had succeeded in pushing Cole only a couple of feet away from the line.
Breathing hard, Cole eyed Edwin with distrust.
“Okay, let’s walk the other direction and try to do the same thing in a different way,” Edwin said.
As Cole turned, suddenly Edwin rushed at him and shoved him hard with both hands. The push sent Cole sprawling to the floor, yards away from the line. Startled, Cole scrambled to get to his feet. Edwin offered a hand and helped him up. Cole fought the urge to hit or shove the elder. “You caught me off guard!” he said.
Edwin smiled slightly. “Yes, life does that a lot.” He turned to the group. “People change two ways—with slow persistent pressure, or with a single and sudden traumatic experience. That’s why people often change so much when they have a near-death experience. I believe something significant happened to Cole on the island. Six months ago, he would have come up off the floor swinging after a push like that.”
Edwin paused, rubbing his rough hand over his stubbled chin. “And yes, maybe people don’t change completely overnight, but I do believe they can change direction overnight. Facing in a new direction is the first step of any new journey.”
“How can we be sure Cole has found a new direction?” the Keeper asked. “We’ve heard this claim before. He still claims he saw a white bear. Isn’t that proof he is still lying to us?”
Edwin turned to Cole as they returned to the Circle. “Did you see a Spirit Bear?”
Cole thought a moment. He could lie, and they would all believe him. Or he could tell the truth, and they would all think he still lied.
“You don’t need to think about the truth,” said Edwin.
“I saw a Spirit Bear, and I touched it,” Cole blurted out.
A thin smile pulled at Edwin’s lips.
“That should be all the proof you need,” exclaimed Peter’s lawyer, although she no longer held the feather. “That should be the last time this Circle needs to sit here and listen to lies.”
Edwin spoke. “Three weeks ago, the crew of a fishing boat returning to Drake claimed they had seen a white bear on an island near where Cole was banished. I might have questioned the report if one of the crew hadn’t been Bernie.”
“Who’s Bernie?” asked the Keeper.
Edwin waved a hand. “Just a friend. But I’ve known Bernie my whole life, and he’s not a man to lie.”
“I don’t care if there’s a black bear, a white bear, or a yellow one with green polka dots,” said Peter’s lawyer. “What matters is that Cole broke his contract with the Circle, and now it’s time for him to pay. We give him chance after chance, and at the same time we tell him he has to face the consequences of his actions.” The lawyer raised her voice almost to a shout. “No more chances!”
Cole breathed slowly. He felt strong enough now to face whatever happened. He was strong enough to not blame anybody else. He could admit that he was no longer in control, and he knew he could tell the truth. But could he control his anger? Even now it smoldered.
The Keeper spoke with a rigid voice. “We can’t just build another cabin, buy more supplies, and start over as if nothing ever happened. Circle Justice isn’t blind. It is about facing consequences.”
“Why don’t we just send him away to Disney World for a year?” said Peter’s lawyer sarcastically.
“This time there would be no free ride,” Edwin said. “If we sent him back to the island, Cole would build his own cabin, and pay for every penny of the supplies by selling things he owns and values. It would be much harder than before.”
The Keeper spoke with resignation. “We have no way of knowing if Cole is over his anger.”
Cole motioned for the feather. “I know I had a chance once and messed it up, so I don’t expect to go back to the island.” He shook his head. “Edwin told me once that anger was a memory never forgotten. He’s right. When I was mauled, I didn’t get over my anger. I still feel it, even now, sitting here in this chair. But I’ve also learned it takes a stronger person to ask for help and to tell the truth. I am telling the truth when I say I saw a Spirit Bear.”
During the following weeks, Cole mentally prepared himself for the inevitable. He imagined attending a trial and hearing the verdict: guilty. He imagined being led in handcuffs from the courtroom and for the first time being locked into a real jail cell. The hardest thing was to imagine being locked up, day after day, week after week, month after month.
While Cole worked through his feelings, he exercised. For long hours each morning and evening, he lay on his small bed, swinging his arms
and legs, arching his back, and stretching to keep his body from stiffening. Midday, he worked out on weights in the center group area. He found himself growing stronger, and he found that when he had angry thoughts, he could exercise himself into a sweaty frenzy until pain from his joints drove away his thoughts and left him spent. No amount of exercise, however, could bring strength back into Cole’s right arm and hand. It was all he could do to lift a shirt.
Garvey explained to Cole after the second gathering that the Circle would continue meeting without him. He wouldn’t say exactly why, but he did say that Edwin had remained in Minneapolis to attend the meetings.
During the next two weeks, Edwin stopped by to visit several times. He never said much, but he studied Cole the way a person looks at a chess-board planning the next move. When he spoke, he asked pointed questions without explaining himself. After each visit, he left without saying good-bye. All he ever mumbled was “Gotta go.”
Nathaniel Blackwood stopped by unexpectedly one day to announce he would no longer be Cole’s lawyer. Cole’s father had refused to pay additional legal fees, and now a public defender would be assigned. Barely two days later, Garvey and Edwin stopped by together. They sat down on Cole’s bed and stared at him.
“What are you staring at?” Cole asked.
“So you think you’re changed, huh?” grunted Edwin.
“What difference does it make?” said Cole. He looked down at his feet. “I feel different.”
“How so?” said Garvey.
“It’s hard to explain,” Cole said.
“You better try.” Edwin’s voice left no room for discussion.
Cole quit trying to think of answers with his head, and instead, let his feelings answer. “After I was mauled, when I thought I was going to die, I felt like just a plant or something, like I wasn’t important. I didn’t know why I even existed. That scared me. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I realized that I was dying and I had never really even lived. Nobody trusted me. I had never loved anybody, and nobody had ever really loved me.”
Edwin and Garvey exchanged a glance. “So how did that change things?” Garvey asked.
“I don’t know,” Cole said, emotions welling up from deep inside. “I really don’t know. I just know that my dad’s not going to ever come back to say he’s sorry. Even if he did, he couldn’t change what he did. He couldn’t take away the memories.”
“So, you think this is all his fault, huh?” asked Edwin.
“No,” said Cole, his voice trembling. “Mom said his parents beat him up, too. I don’t know where the anger all started. All I know is I don’t ever want to have a kid and beat him up.” Cole wiped at his eyes.
“What makes you think you’re better than your dad or his parents?” asked Garvey.
“I’m no better,” Cole said. “I’m worse. Dad never ended up in jail.”
“Not yet,” Garvey said. “So if you are worse, what makes you think things can be different for you?”
Cole swallowed hard. “Maybe they can’t be. Maybe I’ll never change. All I know is that things happened on the island that I can’t explain. I’ve never been so scared.” When Edwin and Garvey didn’t answer, Cole found himself irritated. “What’s with all the questions?” he asked. “You two are wasting your time now.”
“Are we?” Edwin asked.
Cole fought back the tears blurring his vision. “You two are the only ones who ever cared about me,” he blurted. “It’s not like I don’t appreciate what you’re doing. But I screwed everything up. I’m going to jail—can’t you see that? Why don’t you just leave me alone now and quit wasting your time?”
Garvey cleared his throat strongly and rubbed at his neck. “Edwin and I are probably the two biggest fools alive.”
“Or maybe we remember our own pasts too well,” Edwin added.
“We still believe in you and think there’s hope,” Garvey said. “Because of that, we’ve stuck our necks out so far, we feel like two giraffes. Last night we convinced the Circle to release you to our custody.”
“What do you mean, your custody?” Cole asked.
“You’re going back to the island,” Edwin said.
CHAPTER 16
SOUTHEAST ALASKA
COLE’S PULSE QUICKENED as the island drifted into view. It had been fall the last time he made this trip. Then he had been wearing handcuffs and had almost lost his life. Now spring air chilled his skin. Behind Cole sat Garvey and Edwin, joking with each other and gripping the gunwales to brace themselves. There had been a heavy chop ever since they left Drake an hour ago.
Cole looked back. It had been a month since Edwin first announced this return to the island and, true to his word, he had insisted that every penny of the second banishment be funded with the sale of Cole’s belongings in Minneapolis. If Cole wasted this chance, nobody else would pay a penny.
It had irked Cole, watching his sports gear, including his dirt bike, snowmobile, bicycle, skis, and even his helmet, all sold through a newspaper ad like some junk at a cheap garage sale. He squirmed on the hard aluminum boat seat. The sale no longer bothered him. If he screwed things up now, he could lose much more than a snowmobile.
As the skiff circled the point into the bay, Cole felt a rush of excitement. He scanned the thick-timbered slopes. Low, overcast skies made the forests as forbidding as he remembered them. Was the Spirit Bear still out there prowling like a ghost under the thick canopy of spruce trees? The thought of the big animal sent a shudder down Cole’s spine. He kept eyeing the trees as the boat approached the shore.
“Jump out and keep the bow off the rocks,” Edwin ordered.
Cole removed his shoes and flung them ashore, then obediently he vaulted over the side into hip-deep water. The icy cold grabbed at his breath and reminded him of his attempt to escape the island. That swim now seemed like a nightmare from another lifetime. He must have been crazy.
Wind blowing directly into the small protected bay had churned up a heavy surf, and Cole fought to steady the heaving boat. It was hard not being able to grip strongly with his right hand. Garvey swung himself into the water on the opposite side and helped guide the skiff to shallower water. Then, with Cole struggling to hold the bow, Edwin passed ashore the heavy boxes of basic supplies they had brought to go with the building materials delivered earlier by a larger boat.
When the skiff floated empty, Edwin stepped into the water, and all three dragged the aluminum boat out of the surf, over the rocks, and well above high-tide mark. “Try to swim away in this water and it’ll kill you,” Edwin warned Cole.
“I won’t be running away,” Cole said, retrieving his shoes. Already his feet were numb from the water.
“We’ll see, won’t we?” Edwin said.
“So, what do we do first?” Cole asked, looking up toward tree line at the stack of building materials.
“We don’t do anything,” Garvey said. “Everything is up to you now. Edwin and I will stay a few days until you finish building the shelter. Any questions, fine, but you’re carrying the ball now. You’re going to prove your commitment. Get a fire going first, then set up the tent.” The two men headed down the shoreline. Garvey called back, “Have supper ready in two hours.”
Standing alone, Cole eyed the aluminum skiff sitting unguarded. If he wanted to escape, now would be the perfect time. He shook his head. This time he would stay. He began scouring the shoreline for firewood.
When the men returned two hours later, they found Cole still putting up the tent. “Why isn’t supper ready?” Edwin asked.
Cole walked to an old plastic cooler and pulled out raw hot dogs. “It is…here.” When he saw the two men scowl, he added, “Just be glad I didn’t take the boat while you were gone.”
“That would have been a real trick,” Edwin said.
“What do you mean?”
Edwin reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out a spark plug. “Engines don’t run without spark plugs.”
“You didn’t trust
me,” Cole said.
“That’s right,” said Edwin. “Garvey and I believe in your potential, but you haven’t earned trust. Not trying to escape in the skiff is a good first step.”
“What would you guys do if I refused to cook anything?” Cole asked with a wry smile, as he sharpened a sapling for a hot-dog stick.
Garvey crouched beside the fire and reached his palms toward the flames to warm up. “First, we’d get hungry. Then, we’d take you back to Minneapolis.”
“What’s the big deal if I fix a hot dog or not?” Cole asked. “It’s not the end of the world.”
“The whole world is a hot dog,” Garvey said.
“What does that mean?”
“Go ahead, eat a hot dog and I’ll show you.”
Cole poked a raw hot dog onto the stick and held it over the fire. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was, so he held the hot dog in the flames to cook faster. All the while, Edwin and Garvey stared patiently. When the hot dog was charred, Cole placed it on a bun. “Now what?” he asked.
“Eat it.”
Cole squirted on a glob of ketchup, then devoured the hot dog. Edwin and Garvey kept watching. “There,” Cole said, finishing. “I ate the hot dog. Now what?”
“How was it?” Garvey asked.
Cole shrugged. “Okay, I guess. Why?”
“That hot dog did exactly what you asked it to do. You asked it to feed you, and it fed you. No more, no less.” Garvey held out his hand. “Pass me a hot dog.”
Cole pulled another one from the cooler and handed it across the flames. Garvey took the hot dog carefully in his hands and examined it. “This is a fine hot dog,” he said. “The finest I’ve seen all day.” Carefully he slid it onto the stick. He started humming. Soon Edwin hummed along. For ten minutes they hummed the melody over and over. All the while, Garvey patiently turned the hot dog over the coals, careful not to burn it. Finally, when the hot dog was a glistening, crispy brown, Garvey drew the stick back from the fire. “The song we hummed is a song of friendship,” he explained.