Travis didn’t want it to come to an end. But it was time to go. The sun was out, the sky as blue as the Maple Leafs’ away jerseys, and the entire village had once again come out to the airstrip–on snowmobiles, in pick-ups, and by foot–to see the Screech Owls. Only this time the Owls were going home.

There were actually more people there to see them off than had seen them arrive. The Moose Factory Mighty Geese were out in force. The captain had brought Travis’s stick to get it autographed by all the Owls.

“We’re going to keep this as our good-luck stick,” the captain said.

“Then you should have taken one of mine,” Nish said.

No one had changed as much as Nish. He was friendly now. He and the Wolverines’ big defenceman had struck up a friendship at the final-night banquet–where the menu had featured burgers and fries and pizza–and Nish had even promised to come up and visit again. Even more startling, they had brought in some moose nostrils, and, to great cheering, Nish had had his photograph taken eating some.

“I guess I won’t see you for a while.”

It was Rachel. She was alone, smiling, but she did not look happy.

“We’re already talking about inviting the Wolverines down for a return match,” said Travis.

“That would be nice.”

They stood staring at each other for a few seconds. It struck Travis that he might not see her again.

“I’ll send you whatever Mr. Dillinger writes up for the paper,” he said.

“Thanks.”

Travis cleared his throat. He didn’t know what to say.

“I really like that dream catcher,” he said.

“Use it,” Rachel said. “It’s specially for you.”

“Yeah, well…see you.”

Rachel said nothing. She reached out and touched his lips with the tip of her mitten–then she was gone.

“ALLL ABBBOARRRDD!” Mr. Dillinger called out.

They began climbing the steps to the Dash 8. Travis turned just before the door and looked back. Rachel was standing at the back of the crowd, on a snowbank, alone. She waved.

Travis turned back and bumped into Nish, who had also stopped at the door to look back.

“She waved at me,” Nish said.

Travis started to open his mouth to correct him when Nish gave him a big wink. Chuckling to himself, Nish moved ahead down the aisle and found a seat. Travis joined him. Still laughing to himself, Nish bent down and began removing goodies from his pack: bannock, and wild meat. Travis could see the MVP award, the dream catcher, carefully placed in Nish’s pack.

Out over the water, the plane hit the first turbulence. It bucked, settled, then bucked again wildly as the pilot tried to rise into smoother air. But all he found was more pockets as the north wind struck the shore of James Bay and rose right over the village. The plane bucked, fell, jacked sideways, and bucked again.

“I’M GONNA HURL!”

 

THE END