Two hours later, I finally reach my dad’s property. I don’t see any animals around, so they must have all been fed and are asleep. Which reminds me of how hungry and tired I am. I’m soaking wet, covered in scrapes and dirt. I’m so exhausted I feel like I could sleep for a thousand nights. I park George’s bike in the garage and walk into the living room, hoping to sneak past everyone and make my way to the kitchen. I’m too tired to eat, but too hungry to sleep. I don’t know what to do. Maybe I’ll just pass out with food in my mouth. I can chew in my dreams.
But as soon as I walk in, I see my dad and Wendy staring at me, both with their arms crossed and both with an expression I am very used to: disappointment.
“What?” I say, and look down to see that I trekked mud into the house with my dirty wet shoes. “Oh, sorry. I forgot.” I remove my shoes and hold them in my hands. “I’ll clean it up right after I eat,” I add, pointing to my footprints.
But Wendy and my dad haven’t moved or said a word. They are like his ceramic animals, standing perfectly still, with matching expressions. Identical disapproval.
“I know I’m late, but I got lost in the forest,” I say.
“Where is it?” my dad says.
“The forest? Literally everywhere outside,” I say.
“I know where the forest is, Benjamin. Wendy’s necklace. Where is it?” he asks again.
What is he talking about? “How should I know?” I say, and take a step toward the kitchen, but Wendy steps in front of me, blocking my path.
“I want it back,” she says.
“I don’t even know what you’re talking about,” I reply.
“It was her mother’s necklace, Benny,” says my dad.
“Oh, and since I’m the thief, I must have taken it, right?” I say.
Wendy and my dad look at each other, and in unison say, “Yeah.”
“Well, I didn’t, so either she lost it or there’s another thief around here.”
My dad points to the wall, in between Hawaii and Jamaica. My eyes follow his finger. It stops on my suitcase, stranded in the sea. Seriously?
“Why is my—” I sigh. “You’re kicking me out?”
“We can’t trust you,” Wendy says. “And like I said, trust is everything.”
“But I didn’t take it. I swear.”
“You’re telling us that you haven’t stolen anything since you arrived here?” Wendy asks.
The images of the golden scarf, the twenty-dollar bill, Lulu’s microphone, the dragon shirt, Hank’s compass all race through my mind. “I wouldn’t exactly say that,” I say.
“See! He’s been thieving right under our noses,” Wendy says.
“But I never took anything from this house, I swear!” I plead.
“Liar. You took my bike,” George says from the hallway.
“Oh, come on! I borrowed it,” I say.
“You took it. Without asking. That’s literally the definition of stealing, bro,” George fires back.
“He’s right. You just lied to us again,” Wendy says.
“I brought the bike back, didn’t I?” I say.
“After you called Niimi a liar, and a thief, and what else?” my dad asks Wendy.
“A five-year-old. She called. She told us everything,” Wendy says.
“You know what? Fine! I want to go home. Tell my mom I finished this stupid boot camp, and we all go our separate ways,” I say. “We all win. You get rid of me, and I get rid of you. Deal?”
“This isn’t a negotiation, kiddo. You’re going back home, and I already called your mom and told her what you’ve done,” my dad says. “She’s very disappointed.”
“What the—”
“The rules were clear. And you broke them. And that handsome judge isn’t going to be happy seeing you back so soon.”
Panic floods my body. This is so unfair. I didn’t even take the necklace, and now I’m being punished for it. I didn’t steal it … Did I? I don’t remember taking it. Do I steal so often that I can’t even keep track of the things I take? Is that possible?
I can’t go back yet. My mom will never forgive me for messing up so quickly again. I need to say something that keeps me here. Just a bit longer. I need to convince these people that I have changed before they send me back. But they won’t take my word for it; they need to hear it from someone they do trust …
Niimi!
“Talk to Niimi. She’ll tell you how much better I’m getting,” I plead.
“Did you not hear us? We did talk to her.”
“Then let me talk to her. Something happened to me in the forest. Maybe she’ll make sense of it.”
“What happened to you?” my dad asks.
“I was almost attacked by a bear,” I say.
“What?” Wendy gasps.
“But it didn’t hurt me. Turns out it was just a stuffed animal,” I say, realizing I sound like Niimi right now. “I know that doesn’t make sense. But maybe it doesn’t have to.”
They both look at me, like I said something they’ve never imagined me saying.
“Look, I’m not saying I’m a good person or anything. I know I suck, but maybe, just maybe the bear didn’t attack me because I haven’t finished this boot camp thingy yet.”
“Did you even get me that scarf, Benjamin? Or did you steal that too?” Wendy asks.
“I stole it. But to be fair, then you stole it from me.” I point to my dad.
Wendy and my father both sigh at the same time. “Maybe this has all been a waste of time. Clearly you don’t want to change. You’re not even letting Niimi help you,” my dad says.
“Help me? We spend all day fixing other people’s problems. Then, when it comes time to start on me, she punches me in the face, ditches me in the forest, leaving me to die where I’m almost eaten alive by a bear. I feel like I’m losing my mind. I need to know what the heck is going on!” I say.
“Oh, Benny. Your healing started the moment she walked into the bookstore,” my dad says.
“The bookstore? What are you talking about? Niimi was in there for me?”
“You think I’d let a thirteen-year-old thief work the cash register? Plus, there are child labor laws. The whole thing was set up by Niimi to see what she was working with,” Wendy says.
“Has everyone in this freaking place completely lost their mind? Whatever happened to family interventions or counseling or giving me a belt to the butt when I stole something? But no, you all put your trust into some girl that thinks she’s the next Wonder Woman. And since she says I am hopeless, you’re all just going to take her word and send me packing?” I ask, realizing my logic took a complete one-eighty. I wanted them to talk to her to see how much better I’ve gotten, but now I’m trying to convince them to not listen to her.
“And because you stole Wendy’s necklace,” my dad says.
“I didn’t take her damn necklace!” I say.
I need to show them that I’ve changed, even if I haven’t changed as much as they hoped.
I need to talk to Niimi. Maybe my bear encounter will mean something to her. Maybe it will buy me more time. I can’t see the judge yet. I can’t face my mom, not until she knows I won’t let her down again.
“Let’s just all think about this for a minute … You are sending me back because you don’t think I’ve changed, right?” I ask them. “But if Niimi says I am changing, can I stay a bit longer and finish my boot camp? That way my mom can be happy again and the judge won’t have to send me away.”
My dad and Wendy converse with their eyes, then nod.
“If she says you’re changing, then you can stay a bit longer, but Niimi doesn’t lie. You have until noon tomorrow to show her you have. If you can’t, you’re on that bus heading back to Duluth,” he says.
“Okay. I need you to take me to her house,” I say.
“Before we do that, let’s give Wendy back her necklace.”
“I took so many things,” I say. “But not that.”
“That’s the problem with being untrustworthy, Benny. Even when you may be telling the truth, no one will believe you,” my dad says as he pats me on the shoulder and he and Wendy walk away.
Before going back to his room, George adds, “You were almost attacked by a stuffed animal? You’re so weird, dude.”
George’s words resonate with me. It felt so real. I could have sworn I was almost attacked, but when I said it out loud, it sounded impossible. Just like the things Niimi says all sound impossible. But what if she’s telling the truth about all this? What if she really can bloom people? What if it’s not all one big magic trick?
I stand there alone, in silence. I let everyone down again. And this time, I am in trouble for something I didn’t steal. I guess it doesn’t matter. My dad is right; why would they believe me? I need to talk to Niimi. She’s probably still really pissed at me, but she’s the only way I stay out of that courtroom.
What can I do that would make Niimi think I’ve changed? All I’ve done here is steal from people who were nice to me. But what if … I reverse all the things I’ve done? What if I can unsteal the things I’ve stolen?
That’s it! I can now give all those things back. I will return the compass to Hank. I’ll give Lulu her microphone back. This can work. It has to. Clearly that would convince her that I’ve changed, right? Even if I’m doing it to save my own butt, that doesn’t negate the fact that I’m still doing something good. Oh, gawd. I’m using Niimi’s logic now.
I walk down the hall to my dad’s bedroom. I knock three times and wait. Wendy answers. She’s wearing pajamas, and a toothbrush hangs out of her mouth. I know it’s evening, but why is she going to bed so early? What is it, eight p.m.? “Let me see your hands,” she says.
I show her my hands. “No necklace, no ride,” she says, and shuts the door.
What would Niimi do? Well … first off, she’d never be in this situation because she’s not a thief … But … if she did find her way into my shoes, I bet she’d look at the bigger picture. I bet she’d walk for hours in a forest pretending to be lost just to teach me a lesson about stealing compasses. Maybe I need to bite the bullet and take the blame for the necklace … And later, after I convince Niimi to help me stay, I’ll ask her to tell Wendy that I didn’t take the necklace in the first place. They’ll believe her. Niimi doesn’t lie, they said so themselves.
I knock again. Wendy swings the door open. “Can we help you, Benny?” Wendy asks, stepping to the side, revealing my dad standing there, waiting for my response. All three dogs are on their bed. Wow. It’s so much warmer in this room.
“I’ll give the necklace back, but only after you take me to see Niimi.”
“I don’t negotiate with thieves,” my dad says.
“Tommy. I want that necklace back. Just take him to see Niimi. He should at least have a chance to say goodbye to her,” Wendy says.
Even after she believes I took her necklace, she is still somehow nice to me.
“You take him, I’ll wake up early and feed the animals,” he replies.
“No. You take him. I’m pretty sure the goats and ducks won’t rob me. Benny on the other hand, might try to steal the Jeep while I’m in it.”
“Fine. Grab your coat,” he says, and walks past me. “The dogs need to go out anyway.”
I grab my backpack, a coat, and meet my dad outside. He is still in his pajamas, so he and the three dogs run to his Jeep as if the ground was made of hot coals, which is weird because it’s so cold out. Burning freezing icicles … Icicles said really slowly … ice-coals?
The dogs pile into the back. I’ve heard of people walking dogs, but never heard of people taking their dogs out for a drive. Before he starts the Jeep, he turns to me. “I was in your corner, Benny. Why’d you have to take Wendy’s necklace?” he asks.
Even though I didn’t, I sigh and say, “You left my corner a long time ago.”
I’m still mad at him. He’s still mad at me … But right now, the only thing that matters is somehow convincing Niimi to not abandon my corner. I need her on my side.
He’s so disappointed that he’s silent during the entire drive. Since I have arrived in Grand Portage, I couldn’t get him to stop talking, but now, a part of me wishes he would say something. Even one of his cheesy jokes. The tension between us is thick, but I need to get in a better mindset if I am going to convince him—and everyone else—to let me stick around for a while.
“Got any more riddles?” I ask. “Maybe a joke about a thief?”
“I’m all out of humor, right now, Benny,” he says.
But I know him. Some things never change. And he’s been telling jokes since the day I was born. He’ll never pass up an opportunity to make someone laugh. Even when he’s mad. And even when he’s pretending to be fresh out of humor. Whatever that means.
Ten seconds later, he cracks a smile. Yep. I knew it. “Well, I do know one.”
“Let’s hear it. And don’t worry. We can still be mad at each other after the joke,” I say.
“Okay. What did I do when the thief broke into my house while I was sleeping and started searching for money?” he asks.
“I don’t know. What did you do?” I ask.
“I woke up and started searching with him,” he says, and laughs.
Before I know it, a small chuckle escapes my mouth.
Twenty minutes later, I look out the window and see a small brown house. Not at all what I’d picture for a house with a tribal chief living inside it. “You really came face-to-face with a makwa?” my dad asks.
“Want proof?” I ask, and pull the stuffed bear out of my backpack and hand it to him.
My dad’s eyes well up, and he nearly stumbles over his words. “This is the bear you saw?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You don’t remember this, do you?” He holds it up to me.
“No. All I know is I freeze up every time it’s around me,” I say.
“You should hold on to this guy for a while longer. Maybe you’ll realize why it keeps popping up on you.” He smiles and hands it back to me.
I stuff it into my backpack.
“Have Niimi call me when you need a ride home. And don’t be long. It’s getting late.”
“Okay.”
I hop out of the Jeep. He watches me as I walk up to the house. I’m not sure if he is making sure I’m safe or just waiting to see if I’ll try to steal something. Once I enter the property, he drives off with his watch dogs.
I walk up to the house. The sign in front of the yard reads GICHIGAMI GARDEN. The entire front yard is covered in beach glass instead of grass. The ground shimmers from the moonlight, reflecting all the sparkling shards of glass. In the middle of the shiny lawn is a large tree, with dozens and dozens of different colored glass bottles hanging down from the branches on strings. Each bottle has a piece of paper inside. People need a place to hang their messages, I guess. Answering machine? Phone? Send a text? Email? Nope … Beep. Just leave a message in my tree. It looks like an art installation by some Twin Cities hipster. I wonder what it’s for. As I walk under the dangling bottles, I see there are names written on each one.
“That’s a whole lot of people to bloom, ain’t it?” a voice says from behind me. I turn around and see an older woman with a black dog approach me. A bottle is in her hand, and in the bottle is a note.
She is dressed in a long floral green dress under her brown coat. She must be so cold. Her hair shines in silver. But the way she’s moving suggests she’s not cold at all. It’s almost as if she’s gliding to music only she can hear. She looks old, but she’s basically dancing her way over the glass. And she keeps her eyes on me, like she’s reading my face like a book. Why is she smiling? “Do you live here?” I ask, thinking maybe my dad sent me to the wrong house on purpose in another one of his attempts to be funny.
“Me? No. I’m just passing through. Leaving a note here for a friend of mine who fell on tough times,” she says as she ties her bottle to one of the strings hanging down.
“Yeah, times sure can be tough,” I say.
“Yes, they can, kiddo. But remember, we’re tougher,” she says, and gives me a wink. There’s something so warm about her. And even though I have no clue who she is, she keeps grinning and staring at me like she knows exactly who I am. “Good luck on your adventure, kid,” she says. “Let’s go home, Seven,” she says to her dog, and walks back toward the street. Her dog follows.
Seven. That’s an interesting name for a dog. But this place is full of people with interesting names. Do people travel from all over Minnesota to come here? Does every reservation have a tree like this? Every tribe? I look up at the bottles again and feel the heaviness of so many people hurting. So many cries for help. So many people trying to better themselves. No wonder Niimi’s dad asked her to take over this part of the job. There are so many people to help.
I leave the tree and approach the door. The doormat under my feet says ANISHINAABE NIIN. I wonder if that means “home sweet home” in Ojibwe. I knock three times.