Chapter 7 - Pepper

 Chapter 7 - Pepper

Sammie is first spearing a marshmallow, and she sticks it right into the flames so it catches fire, but Josh blows it out in seconds.

“Hey!—what did you do that for?” yells Sammie.

“It was on fire.”

“I lit it on fire on purpose.” Says Sammie patiently, as if her knight in shining armor has just saved her, except she didn’t want saving, but he’s still her knight after all.

“Why do you want it to burn?”

“So I can pull the outside off, eat it, and then do it again.”

“But it’s burned, and charcoal is bad for you—here, let me make you one.”  He carefully works his roasting fork over the hot coals staying clear of the flames.  Deftly, he rotates the marshmallow turning it a light brown, the surface begins to swell with bubbly soft insides. It takes about 30 seconds before he presents Sammie with a perfectly toasted marshmallow.

“Pull that off,” he says, “I’ll have the next layer ready in  sec.”  This is so cool, I’m cooking for her.

“Thank you,” says Sammie, before stuffing the sugary treat into her mouth.  She watches Josh repeat the toasting, but she is looking at him, not the fire.  He intently watches the next layer turn brown, but he’s fully aware that Sammie is looking at him.

“You’re staring at me again.” He says without glancing up. “If you think you can distract me into burning this, it won’t work.” Oh man I’m going to burn this.

“I am not staring, but I can distract you if I want.” She slides over until their legs touch, she leans toward him and lightly blows in his ear.  The marshmallow bursts into flames, but he lets it burn awhile before putting it out.  “See,” I made you burn it.” 

He scoots over enough to turn to her and says, “No you didn’t, I made it your way.” He holds up the charred ember on a fork. “Hungry?”

Sadie is lying next to the log, dog napping, but she raises her head and barks her standard all in one, woof woof announcement, and hello greeting.

“Be quiet Sadie, these aren’t for you, and I don’t want to be cleaning marshmallow out of your fur.”  She lays her head on her paws, and whimpers, her eyes focused offshore.

“Woof, woof.” Sadie stands and takes a step toward the water. “Woof woof.”

“What is it Sadie, what do you see?” says Sammie. She and Josh scan the water, but don’t see anything. Sadie keeps barking and Sammie moves over to stand behind her trying to see where her dog is looking.

 “There’s nothing out there Sadie, it’s your doggy imagination.”  Sadie quiets, and sits in the gravel watching anyway.  Josh has tossed the ruined marshmallow in the fire and started a new one; soon he has a perfectly toasted marshmallow sandwiched between two grammys with a piece of Hershey bar.

“Look, this one is perfection, no wrinkles, and it has a non sticky cover, plus a hidden surprise.”  He hands her a smore, “Compliments of Maggie.”

Sadie barks again, only this time, she lets out a long string of woofs, and jumps to her feet.  Sammie and Josh both look in time to see the spout.

“It’s an orca,” says Sammie, pointing.  “You were right Sadie.” She bends down to pet Sadie and reassure her that everything is okay.

“What’s it doing here, I thought you said they stay out of the inside waters.

“Well they do, most of the time, but we’re right on the edge, and they don‘t have rules or anything.  Maybe it’s following some yummy school of fish.  Look its spouting again, you can see its moving left to right, its coming this way, probably just to clear the point here.”

“How do you know it’s an orca, aren’t there other whales out there.”

“Well, I can’t be sure unless it gets close enough to see it, or it breaches, but we have orca’s that live here year around, and its spout looks like an orca   spout. Other species are supposed to look different, but I’ve never seen any whales except orca’s and the ones on Nat. TV.”

“We could jump in a kayak a paddle out there.” Says Josh.

“Are you serious, I thought you were afraid of them.”

“I am, but you said they don’t eat people.”

“Well it’s a bad idea, they don’t have to eat you, they can squish or drown you, besides, it’s against the law.”

“I was just kidding, look there’s two spouts,  this is so cool, we have  killer whales in our back yard.”

Ever since Sadie first barked bringing attention to the orca’s, she has been whimpering and watching, now she is pacing back and forth along the water’s edge, looking out at the whales, whimpering and barking. Every so often, she barks and then jumps up to see better.  The whales are at least a quarter mile away, and if they hear her barking, they will stay away.  It doesn’t take very long for them to make their way around the point. Sadie stays alert and on guard, watching and listening.

“We still have light for a few more hours, do you want to hike down the shore trail,” asks Josh.

“Sure, which way do you want to go?” Sammie was hoping to hang with Josh, going Inside with Sandy and her dad is boring.

“I would kind of like to go back towards the cove, and maybe see the orca’s again, that’s the way they went, we can hike as far as we want and then come back on the road.”

At the foot of the stairs is a red painted bucket hanging from a rusty hook.  Josh fills it half full of seawater from a tide-pool and then dribbles it on the burning logs. Steam rises from the fire pit making a mini cloud enveloping them. Hissing and popping sounds come from the rocks as the water boils cooling them. Suddenly a loud bang precedes breaking rocks as thermal shock rips apart one of the smaller stones that was under the fire.

“Let’s go Sadie, this isn’t safe.” Sammie stands and Sadie charges off the way the orca’s went.

“Don’t you want to tell Sandy or your dad.” Asks Josh

“I don’t need to ask permission for everything I do.”

‘I don’t mean ask permission, I mean let someone know where you are, you know in case something comes up.”

“Like what?”

“You know, like an earthquake or tsunami or something.” Sammie rolls her eyes and exhales loudly, but agrees with Josh, and then dashes up the stairs with Sadie bounding behind her.  She’s back in about one minute, and with two water bottles.

“That was quick.” Says Josh.

“I met Sandy on the path, she was on the way down with these,” she toss’s Josh a water bottle, “let’s go.”

Sadie leads the way, running down the beach, and then sprinting back to see what the slow down is.  Sammie and Josh take their time; they carefully make their way, talking and picking at things.  The beach trail winds its way into the forest with drops back to the beach, but mostly stays above the high water mark left by storms.  Josh digs around in a driftwood pile he passed by earlier and pulls out a strong lightweight stick to use poking at stuff and as a hiking staff. He uses the new stick like an extra hand. Helping Sammie, he braces himself in a good spot and holds the stick for her to hang from, lowering her down a steep section. With four real legs and boundless energy, Sadie runs up and down the steep banks as if they are her personal stairs. She discovers a perfect stick and drops it at Sammie’s feet, using her nose she shoves it against Sammie’s toes until she throws it.

Last winter’s storms have turned, churned and washed up flotsam to checkout.   Sammie reaches into a shallow pool and moves a flat rock to see what’s under it.  Tiny little fish and hermit crabs scatter as she sorts through some small rocks, and then she brings up several agates. She holds the translucent gemstones up to the sun looking for interesting inclusions, and then shows them to Josh before slipping them into her pocket.  Josh pokes his stick into a curious suspect pile of seaweed, plastic, and wads of fishing line, and then he uncovers a broken piece of Styrofoam.

“Probably part of an ice chest someone tossed overboard or left on a beach,” says Sammie, “people are such asses, fish and whales and seals eat all this crap, beer cans too.  I’ve seen sport fisherman toss sacks of garbage over the side of their beautiful spotless million dollar boats.  This stuff doesn’t go away, what doesn’t sink collects in tangled messes and floats around forever. I’ve read that out in the middle of the Pacific are drifting islands of floating garbage that stretch hundreds of miles.”

Sadie has momentarily left her stick on the beach,  and is wading in two inches of water,  watching and whining, staring out beyond the point.

“Look at how concerned Sadie is,” says Josh, “I bet she hears something we can’t hear.”

“Or smells something,” says Sammie.

“Maybe those killer whales are still out there somewhere, let’s work our way out, and take a look.”

The falling tide has exposed a shelf that extends out hundreds of feet from the high water shoreline.  Walking is easy but they slip and slide on the green seaweed with every step they take.  Josh probes suspicious spots with his stick looking for hidden pools, Sammie forges ahead and steps in hole after hole, sometimes up to her knees. Sadie seems to be able to spot high spots and runs over the entire area. 

“Sometimes our guests get a real surprise out here,” says Sammie, they come out at low tide in their long pants and $200 running shoes, and don’t realize how fast the water comes back in.  They get busy looking in a pool full of sea life, and the water comes in behind them cutting them off from shore. They end up wading through a foot of water and then falling in the pools we are avoiding.  Laughing. When they get back to the lodge they are soaked, sometimes totally head to toe.  The great part is that they are thrilled that they survived a dangerous ordeal.”

“Dangerous,” says Josh, “give me a break.  What’s dangerous is being one of these little animals we are stepping on as we walk around out here.  If they don’t get squished by people at low tide they eat each other at high tide. Urchins, anemones, barnacles, and a whole bunch of crawly little things make this their homes.

“You’re compassionate for tidelands,” says Sammie.

“It was my mother’s passion; I just think we should give little things a break.”

Stopped by deep water at the furthest point out, they can see the mouth of Pearson’s Cove about a quarter mile or less further on.   While they watch, a whale spouts off the coves entrance.  Sadie barks several times, and lowers her head onto her outstretched front legs like she is pulling back a slingshot ready to fire.  She whines and carry’s on like the whale is stealing her stick or refusing to throw it as fast as she brings it back.  Her bark is not fearful, or like her territory is being invaded.  She’s not growling that low snarly growl dogs do when a strange dog trespasses.  Her bark is more of a welcome to my yard, let’s play kind of bark.  Pearson’s Cove is clearly part of her yard and she needs to get over there asap.

Sammie gives her permission saying, “Go Sadie.” She takes off on a mission; she bounds back across the drying seaweed beds, and streaks up the crumbly scree slope leading into the woods and the trail.

“Wow, look at her go, we better get over there,” says Josh, “You don’t think she would go out on the dock and jump in do you.”

“I don’t know, she’s just barely not a puppy anymore, and more eager than smart.  She’s not stupid, but she likes the water, she’ll jump in to get a stick.  We need to hurry, I should have told her to stay with us.”

It only takes them five minutes to get back to the beach and climb the bank, and then another two or three for them to jog the trail to Pearson Cove.  They don’t pause where the trail forks up to Josh’s house and head straight out the dilapidated gangplank and on to the dock.  Sadie is pacing and barking out on the very end of the floating walkway .  She doesn’t quiet down until Sammie rubs her neck assuring her that it’s okay.  The three of them watch out in the water, only fifty feet from them hovers motionless a full size Killer Whale.  An orca.  Beside it is a juvenile orca, only one-third its length and a fraction the weight.

“Oh my god,” says Sammie, “look at that,” she rubs Sadie’s neck more for her own reassurance than Sadie’s.  “Look at the black and white markings, look how clean and bright they are.”

“This is absolutely fantastic, that’s a momma and her baby,” says Josh —“right?”

“Yeah, I think so,” says Sammie, “they’re supposed to stay together for several years, the babies are eight feet long at birth.  That one looks close to ten feet.”

“But they live in family pods and stay around here their entire lives, so that means there are more nearby.”

“Maybe, but nearby may mean on the other side of the island, or. . .”

Without any warning, both whales spout, causing Josh to nearly jump off the dock, first the mom, lets out an explosive exhale, followed a second later by the little one.  The juveniles little spout is over before the mom’s giant exhale really gets going. A big cloud of moist momma killer whale breath shoots up and hangs in the air, and then dissipates into droplets that drift over the float and rains on them.

“Oh jeez,” says Josh, “I just about jumped out of my skin, and—oh crap—we just got sneezed on—that’s whale snot falling on us.”  Sadie barks her approval.

“Ewe,” says Sammie, “stinky bad breath too, of course you like it, don’t you Sadie.”  Sadie lays down on the dock, her head resting on her paws, she whimpers and whines, never taking her eyes off the orca’s.

Up in the main house, Charley and Maggie have been watching from the big picture window in the old lodges great room.  Sadies arrival and barking  caught their attention.  They watched the whales spout and saw the spray drift over the kids. Maggie grabs her camera, she and Charley head out the door for the dock.

The big whale is resting, still and motionless on the surface, but the little one is in constant motion, swinging its long flipper fins like a swimmer treading water.  It sinks below the surface and then with one stroke, it brings itself back up.

“Look,” says Sammie pointing, “there’s something hanging under the little one, look there,” kneeling down, “see it? Oh my god, there’s a rope wrapped over her back, its dug into her skin, see it?  It’s black like her back, but you can see it where it crosses the white on her side.”

“I see it, I see it,” says Josh, and then, “how do you know it’s a her?”

“Cause Sadie says so,” Sammie’s weird glance at him suggests he has more to learn.

“That must be why she keeps swimming for the surface, she’s all tangled up in some weighted net. If she quits swimming she will drown.”

“Who will drown,” says Charley, when he and Maggie reach the end of the float.

“The little one,” says Sammie, it’s wrapped in a net and has to swim just to breathe.”

“I see it,” says Charley, “that looks like part of a drift net, under water they are darn near invisible, poor baby just swam right into it.  They outlawed them in our waters, but outside our territory anything goes.  Dishonest or unscrupulous fisherman will cut loose damaged pieces they don’t want, or entire nets to keep from getting caught. Then they drift around for years trapping and killing.  That baby is lucky he’s still alive, thousands of seals, dolphins, and porpoises die every year.

“Well not this one,” says Josh matter-of-factly, “I’m going out there and cut it off.” He abruptly turns and walks down the dock towards the gear shed. 

“You can’t go out there,” says Maggie, “do something Charlie, do something right now.”

“Wait a sec Josh, that’s crazy talk,” says Charley, catching up to Josh.

“The only thing crazy, is not helping her.”

“Okay, think about it first, what are you going to do?” says Charlie.

“I don’t know, just paddle out there and if she will let me get close, I’ll just start cutting, and go from there.”

“That’s exactly what your crazy dad would say and do if he was here, and I would be helping him, just like I’m going to help you.

“Thanks Uncle Charlie, any ideas?”

“Yeah, we need life vests, sharp knives, some rope, and a long boat hook.”

“What’s the rope for?”

“Don’t know yet, but you always need rope around water and boats, right?”

“Yeah, dumb question, I guess. Do you think this is safe, I mean really?”

“I think it’s scary, I don’t know if it’s safe. You don’t have to do this Josh.”

“Yes I do.”  Mom would want me to try.

Maggie, Sammie and Sadie maintain their vigil at the end of the dock; the orca’s slowly drift with the current inside the cove, the little one treading water, its mother a flipper fin width away.  Josh and Charlie shove off in the aluminum skiff; Josh has tossed his hiking stick in with the new oars, ropes and a long pole with a bent blunt hook on the end. Josh rows, Charley looks at the orca’s, and avoids Maggie’s icy stare, but he still hears her voicing her displeasure.

“You were supposed to talk him out of it, are you crazy too?” says Maggie.  “Turn around right now, you don’t know what you’re doing.  You can call somebody; it’s not your job.”

“Just take a picture and relax, we’ll be fine,” says Charley quietly across fifty feet of cold killer whale filled water.

“Josh—” whispers Charley, “I think you should row over to their left so both of them can see us approach and go slow, we don’t want to spook them.”

  The mother orca   doesn’t scare Josh, extra deep concern, a definite yes.   Her all encompassing, yet calm relaxed presence fills the cove

 The water is calm, the normal seagull racket has taken a break.  Sammie sits cross-legged on the dock with Sadie’s head in her lap. They watch in silence.  The world outside Pearson Cove is on hold. 

                                                            

Chapter 8 – Orca Hoist

present time

After cutting away the loose net and weights from Pepper, Josh is still faced with wire cable imbedded in her flesh.