The Summer We Saved the Bees (16 page)

There were so many reasons. Hating the costume, dreading the shows, the thought of all of us crammed into the van day after day. But I could put up with all of that if I had to. “Because of Whisper,” I said. “She’s stopped talking.”

Anna nodded. “Ah.” She gestured for me to take a seat on the couch, and she sat on a chair opposite me. “And your mother. Is she worried?”

“She’s worried about the future, you know?” I looked at her, trying to see if she understood. “About the bees dying and everything. And it’s like…it’s like, compared to that, nothing else really matters.”

“What do you think?” Anna asked. She was leaning toward me, her elbows on her knees.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess she’s right, sort of. She says we need to be warriors.” I swallowed painfully. “But I don’t think I can.”

“And Whisper? Do you think she can?”

“I don’t think she should have to,” I said.

Anna nodded. “Children should not have to be warriors.”

She bent her head and said nothing for a long minute. I stared at the parting of her hair—the white line of scalp that showed between the gray roots. “Are you going to tell my mom?” I asked at last.

She lifted her head to look at me and sat up very straight. “Let me tell you a story. I want to tell you how we came here.”

“Here?”

“To Canada,” she said. “My daughter was six years old. Just a little older than your sisters. And in my country—Croatia was called Yugoslavia then—there was a terrible war. Dubrovnik, where we lived, was the most beautiful city. Very old, very beautiful.” She looked at me. “But then it was attacked by the army—”

“What army? Your own army? I mean, your country’s army? Why would they attack their own city?”

Anna nodded. “It’s complicated. But yes, the country, it was at war. The Croatians declared independence and the army—the Serbians—they attacked the city. My husband was killed.”

“Oh…that’s awful. I’m sorry.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“Yes. It was awful,” she said. “After he was killed, I wanted to leave, but my daughter and I were trapped in the city. The army cut off electricity; they cut off water. The city—it is very old, surrounded by thick stone walls, and we were trapped inside. Under siege. Not much to eat, shots and explosions at any time, buildings on fire. My husband was gone. I thought
we would die.” Anna crossed her arms. “For forty-four days, we were trapped like rats in the darkness. It seemed like the world was ending.”

“Yeah.” I couldn’t imagine it.

“But my daughter was only six. And I had to find a way to keep her safe.”

Under siege
sounded medieval, I thought. Like something from a long time ago, with knights and castles and trebuchets. “What year was this?” I asked. “How did you get out?”

“It was 1991,” she said. “We escaped on a boat. Two thousand of us, mostly women and children. So crowded—six children in each narrow bunk—and the seas were rough. Everyone was sick. But we were free. And then, eventually, my daughter and I learned that we could come to Canada.”

“That must have been so scary,” I said. It made my worries seem pretty pathetic, and I figured Anna was going to say something about how I should realize how lucky I was.

“It was,” she said. “But last year, my daughter and my grandson and I went back to Dubrovnik. For a holiday. It is a tourist destination now. Cruise ships go there. It has been rebuilt—all the damage, all the missiles and rockets—you would never know.” She looked at me. “We sat in the square and ate gelato, and I showed my daughter the building where she was born. The world didn’t end after all, you see?”

I nodded. “You think my mom’s wrong? Is that what you’re telling me? That the world won’t end?”

“Well, a civil war isn’t the same as dying bees.” She shrugged. “And no one can know the future. But many times people have thought the world was coming to an end.
And it has not. So I am an optimist. I think things get better, not worse.” She leaned close and patted my knee. “And I understand why your mother wants a better future for her children. That is why she is doing this. Trying to make the world better for you.”

“I know that. But…”

Anna nodded. “Yes. But she doesn’t see what you see. So you have your own battle to fight. You have to protect your little sister.”

“That’s right.” I looked at her, surprised. Was she actually agreeing with me?

“Perhaps there is more than one kind of warrior,” Anna said. She stood up, brushed her hands against her skirt and smiled. “Now, shall I get you some cookies?”

Twenty-Four

WHEN VIOLET AND
the others got home, wet haired and smelling like chlorine, I filled them in on my conversation with Anna.

“So she’s not going to tell your parents?” Ty asked.

“I don’t
think
so,” I said. “I think she kind of understood.”

He raised one eyebrow. “That’s pretty cool.” He unpacked a bag of wet towels and started hanging them over the van’s open doors.

“I bet she tells,” Violet said darkly. “Adults always stick together. Doesn’t matter who’s right or what the deal is, they have each other’s backs.”

I knew what she meant, but I didn’t think Anna was like that.

Ty pulled Saffron’s swim goggles from the bag and dangled them from one finger. “So what are we going to do? Violet, you think we should go in the morning?”

Saffron grabbed her goggles from him. “Go where?”

Violet shrugged. “Not like anything’s changed.”

“So, yeah then?”

She nodded. “Yeah.” She looked at me. “Where are they?”

“Mom and Curtis? I haven’t seen them.”

“I’m hungry,” Saffron said. “So’s Whisper. And we want a Buzzy the Bee story, Ty.”

I stuck my head in the back of the van, rummaging through the supplies in search of easy snacks. “Want an apple?” I grabbed two and handed them one each. “There you go.”

Saffron took the apple and bit into it. She was shivering, and Whisper’s lips had a blue tinge. Wet hair and a cool breeze were a bad combination. “Why don’t you go in the tent?” I said. “It’ll be warmer.”

“Can Ty come too? And tell us a Buzzy story?”

Ty nodded. “In a minute, okay? You go ahead and get warm, and I’ll come in a minute.”

When the girls were zipped inside, Violet beckoned for me to come closer to her and Ty. She lowered her voice, speaking in a whisper. “Look, there’s a problem, Wolf.”

“I’ve got a couple hundred bucks,” Ty said. “And Vi’s got a bit too. But it’s not enough for all of us.”

My heart sank. “You’re going without us.”

Violet looked at me, one side of her mouth pulled down in an apologetic kind of grimace. “I don’t know what else to do. Maybe when we get there, if my grandmother will listen, we can get her to talk to Curtis and Mom. I mean, if you keep heading east, you guys will probably be
in Nelson in a week or so anyway. Right? Maybe you can stay there, and Mom and Curtis can do the rest of the trip without us.”

I looked at her, trying to feel angry but just feeling stuck and hopeless. Trapped. “What about Vancouver?” I said.

“What about it?” Violet said.

“What would it cost? What if we all went back to Vancouver?”

“What good would that do?”

I shrugged. “We’d be out of here. Maybe we could find someone to help Whisper.”

“Yeah.” She looked at the tent, and I followed her gaze. “She really doesn’t talk, does she? Not at all.”

“Not a word since we left home,” I said. “I mean, she’s never said much, but at least she used to talk to us.”

Violet pushed her hair back with both hands, leaving spiky, damp locks sticking out every which way. She hadn’t put her usual makeup back on after swimming, and I thought she looked much nicer without all the black stuff around her eyes. “Where would we stay?” she said. She turned to Ty. “You have friends in Vancouver.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, but their place is kind of a dive. It wouldn’t be cool for the twins to be there.” He sucked the ring in his lower lip. “It’s not that kind of place. Not kid friendly.”

“Eva and Mary?” I suggested. “If we just showed up, they wouldn’t turn us away. And I bet they’d understand about Whisper. Maybe they’d even help us find someone who could help her.”

Violet shook her head. “Eva is Jade’s oldest friend. She’d have us back with her in a heartbeat.”

There was a long silence. Finally, I spoke. “What if just you and Whisper went?” I said slowly. “If you took her to Nelson, to her grandmother’s? Is there enough money for two tickets?”

She stared at me. “What, you’re gonna stay here and explain that to our parents? They’ll freak.”

“I know, I know. I mean, it’s not like I want to.” I had a lump in my throat the size of a golf ball. “Um…I know it’d mean leaving Ty. But maybe he could hitchhike to Nelson and meet you there.”

Violet made a face. “I guess. But me, traveling with Whisper? What if she flips out?”

“So, you deal with it,” I said. “Do you even have an address or a phone number for your grandmother?”

She pulled out her phone. “It’s down to, like, 3 percent. Maybe I should walk to the Starbucks and use their Wi-Fi and charge it while I’m there.”

The tent zipper slid open, and Saffron’s head poked out. “Come
on
, Ty! You said one minute.”

“Okay, okay.” Ty yawned widely and rubbed his hands over the dark stubble on his head. “I’m coming.”

“Can we have chocolate?” she asked.

“I don’t have chocolate,” Ty said, heading to the tent. “But I have something better. I have…Buzzy the Bee!”

She giggled. “Wolf, can we have chocolate?”

“I don’t have any either.”

“Curtis does,” she said. “In the glove box. He
hides
it.”

“Really?” I raised my eyebrows, unconvinced, but I ducked past the towels hanging on the passenger-side door and flipped open the glove box. Maps, Kleenex, vehicle registration papers—and, sure enough, a king-size Caramilk bar and a box of Smarties.

I laughed out loud. Curtis and Jade were always talking about how unhealthy and addictive and basically evil sugar was, and it turned out he had a secret stash. I picked up the Smarties, figuring I could swipe a few for the twins without him noticing.

And there, at the bottom of the glove box, was a stack of twenty-dollar bills.

I backed away slowly. “Violet,” I whispered. “Look.”

She looked at the box of Smarties in my hand and snorted. “Hypocrite. He’s totally a sugar addict since he quit smoking. I don’t know why he bothers trying to hide it.”

I ignored her and pointed at the money in the glove box. “Not that. This. How much money do you and Ty have?”

She stared at the pile of bills. “He’s got two hundred and fifty—something like that,” she said slowly. “And I’ve got eighty.”

“So we’re only short by a hundred bucks. Less than that.” I pulled out the twenties and counted them. “Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen…What’s that? Fifteen times twenty?”

“Three hundred dollars,” Violet said.

We stared at each other. I could feel my heart thumping, and I had that weird electrical tingling shooting down my arms—that bumped-funny-bone feeling. I took a deep breath
and counted off five bills and slid the rest back into the glove box.

Violet nodded slowly. “We’ll pay it back,” she said.

I swallowed. “Yeah.”

So it wasn’t really stealing.

Twenty-Five

MOM AND CURTIS
came home around dinnertime. They said they’d met with a local member of parliament and dropped off some material for the mayor.

“And then, just by luck, we started chatting to a woman at the library—we were putting up posters—and she turned out to be an elementary schoolteacher!” Mom clapped her hands together. “She invited us to talk to her fourth-grade class about the bees and what we’re doing to help them. She was thrilled when I told her about you guys—so inspiring for kids to see other kids taking action!”

“Cool,” I said. “So, uh, when’s that?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” she said.

I looked at Violet. She met my eyes for a second and then looked away, biting her lip.

If everything went according to plan—if Anna didn’t tell on us, if we didn’t lose our nerve—by tomorrow afternoon we would be halfway to Nelson.

It wasn’t until later that night, when Mom was reading a bedtime story to Saffron and Whisper, that we realized we had a problem. The bus to Nelson left early in the morning—and the twins would still be asleep in the van with Mom and Curtis.

Violet and I were hand-washing the twins’ underwear and T-shirts in a bucket. Ty was helping Curtis with some engine thing. “Maybe we could ask the twins if they want to have a sleepover party with us,” I suggested, wringing out a small pink top with butterflies on it. It was Whisper’s favorite. “If we all sleep in the tent, we could be up and gone before Curtis and Mom get up.”

Violet looked doubtful. “What if they say no? Whisper’s so stubborn…”

“I don’t think they’ll say no,” I said. “Especially if you ask them. Or Ty. Get Ty to ask them. They really like him.”

She smiled, pulling a pair of tiny underpants from the soapy water. “They do, don’t they?”