It had been sixteen hours and twenty-three minutes since the river rescue, and my feet were still cold. I cranked the hot water on, stepped into the bathtub, and the icicles that were my toes finally began to thaw. Steam from the bath enveloped me, and I sank into the hot water with a sigh.
My parents were going to ground me for life. When Robyn, Nick and I arrived at my house last night in a police cruiser, they both nearly had a heart attack. The police officer explained about the capture of the bear poachers, but he left out a lot of detail, which was probably a good thing. Mom and Dad hadn’t even heard half of the story yet.
The rescue helicopter had landed in the clearing where we parked the cars. The police were already pulling into the area. The Search and Rescue team fished the poachers out of the river. They were arrested and then taken to the hospital to be checked out for hypothermia. That water was really cold.
Gran had been arrested too. She didn’t seem upset. I think she knew that a story about a sixty-nine-year-old conservationist grandmother leading a bear-poaching ring would be big news. A lot of people would hear about the plight of the grizzly bear. I hadn’t heard from Robyn or Nick since the rescue. I wondered if they had escaped permanent house arrest or if, like me, their parents were still in shock and hadn’t given out punishment yet.
The phone rang down the hall. I leaped out of the bath, slipped on the soap and grabbed for the towel bar to stop my fall. It pulled out of the wall, and I landed on the bath mat in a groaning heap. A few flakes of drywall crumbled into my hair.
The phone stopped ringing. I pulled myself upright, wrapped a towel around my midsection and tottered down the hall. I grabbed the portable phone, hit the caller-ID button, then redialed.
“Nick?” I croaked.
“Hey, Trev,” Nick said. “Go turn on the TV, quick. Channel three. Call ya later.” He hung up.
“For that I nearly killed myself?” I said into the dead receiver. I went into my parents’ room and turned on their TV. Simon, Bo and Dude filled the tiny screen. Simon still wore the bear-claw necklace.
“It was awesome, man!” Dude was saying. The camera backed up, showing a pretty girl holding a microphone.
“So, Simon, your opening show was a big success,” she said. “But it was a little different from most. Tell us about it.”
“Well, we donated all the cash from last night to grizzly-bear conservation efforts. We are really into protecting wildlife, and we figured that was the best thing to do with the money,” Simon said.
My jaw dropped in surprise.
“That’s interesting, considering a band of bear poachers was just rounded up yesterday. Is publicity a motivator for you?” the announcer pressed.
“No way,” said Simon. “You see this necklace? My grandfather gave it to me. It’s made from a real bear’s claw. A train killed this bear. He was another casualty of human civilization. My grandfather told me to wear the necklace as a reminder to respect the wild, to do what I can to help. Our support for grizzly-bear conservation is not something we decided with this morning’s headlines.”
“I see.” The announcer went on with more detai ls about the concert , but I stopped listening.
That explained a lot. Simon’s necklace wasn’t a sign of his disrespect toward the bears. I’d been wrong about him. It had been pretty cool, actually, to meet guys in a real rock band. Maybe now that the mystery was wrapped up, I could get back to practicing my guitar. Robyn would be thrilled.
I thought about the glimpse I’d had of the grizzly in the backcountry. Teeth and fur and powerful claws—we’d been terrified, but he hadn’t hurt us. I was glad I didn’t let the poacher kill him. He belonged in the forest, living free.