“It’s Canada,” Dross said. “Another country. I have no jurisdiction there. I can’t just up and go, and I can’t sanction you going either.”
Earlier, the sheriff had pulled up a map of Ontario on the computer in her office, and they’d gathered around her desk and located the dam in a remote area of the province, along the Manitou River. She’d phoned Thunder Bay, an RCMP officer named Lanny Russo, with whom she’d worked on another cross-border case. Rainy and the others had listened as Dross explained the circumstances and her concerns.
“I know it’s only speculation, Lanny, but if it’s true, it could be catastrophic.” Dross had closed her eyes and listened. “No, no real evidence of any kind, only what I’ve told you.” She listened some more. “Yeah, I understand. Thanks.” She’d hung up. “He’d like to have more than our speculations to go on, but he said he’ll check it out and get back to me. He couldn’t promise anything.”
That’s when Daniel had made his own call, to Bud Bowers. The pilot had agreed immediately to fly them across the border, even if it got him into hot water. Anything, if it might help Cork.
“We’re not looking for your approval, Marsha,” Daniel said. “If the guy you’ve contacted sends the cavalry, great. But we all know how slow an official response can be. It could be too late. For Cork and Lindsay and John Harris. And look what’s downriver from that dam. Gordonville, a town of several hundred people. If somehow the Manitou Canyon Dam goes, those folks are in real trouble. Remember Aunt Leah’s vision? All those fish dying, fish with human faces?”
“What are you going to do? Fly to the dam and wait?”
“Fly to White Woman Lake, to Saint Gervais, and find Aaron Commanda.”
Rainy could see how the situation twisted Dross.
“All right,” the sheriff finally said. “But I’m going to let Lanny know about this, give the RCMP a head’s-up. Have Bowers stay in contact. I’ll give him a frequency. If I get word of anything, I’ll let you know.” She turned a sharp eye on Trevor Harris, who’d joined them after the interview with Trudeau. “But you, you’re not going anywhere. I’ve got a comfortable cell for you until this is over.”
Harris made no complaint and, in fact, seemed relieved.
* * *
Rose had picked up Waaboo from preschool. He was hungry—always hungry—and she’d made him a grilled cheese sandwich and poured him milk. He sat at the kitchen table, feet dangling, feeding Trixie a little bit of his sandwich now and again, when he thought Rose wasn’t looking.
“Bennie said Baa-baa is a rock, Aunt Rose.”
“A rock? Bennie said that?”
“He said his dad did. I told him that was stupid.”
Rose had just finished buttering and seasoning a chicken she intended to bake for dinner that night. She washed her hands clean, went to the little guy. “A rock? You’re sure that’s what he said?”
Waaboo’s eyes went to the ceiling, as if he were looking for an answer there. “Baa-baa is stone-cold. That’s what he said.”
She smiled and kissed the top of his head. “Your grandfather isn’t a stone, little rabbit. I think he’s mostly heart.”
Waaboo’s face scrunched up. “Like a valentine with arms and legs?”
“Like a valentine full of love,” she said.
Waaboo seemed satisfied and slipped Trixie another morsel.
The kitchen door swung open, and a flurry of bodies entered, the O’Connor children, plus Henry, Rainy, and Daniel. They brought in the cold from outside, and Rose could feel a furious purpose coming off them as well.
“Canada, Aunt Rose,” Stephen said without preamble. “We’re on our way to Canada.”
She didn’t ask why, just said, “Do you want something to eat before you go?”
“Sandwiches,” Stephen said. “We’ll take them with us.”
Jenny went to her son and gave him a hug.
Waaboo said, “Baa-baa isn’t a cold rock.”
The others stopped whatever they were doing.
Jenny said, “What do you mean?”
“Baa-baa is just a big heart. Isn’t he, Aunt Rose?”
Jenny knelt and smiled. “You’re absolutely right, little guy.”
Henry sat at the table, and as Rose worked on whipping up tuna salad for the sandwiches, she listened to the old man talk to the child.
“Some people are a big heart,” the old Mide said. “Do you know what else a person may be?”
Waaboo chewed his grilled cheese sandwich and thought about that. “A big mouth. That’s what Mick calls Miss LaRue at school.”
The old Mide laughed. “A person is also a spirit, little rabbit.”
“Like a ghost? I was a ghost for Halloween.”
“Did people see you?”
“I was in a sheet. So, yeah.”
Jenny said, “I didn’t have a lot of time to be creative this year.”
“A spirit is something you cannot see,” Henry said to Waaboo.
“Then how do you know it’s there?”
“It shows itself in how a person acts toward others.”
“David Brady hits everybody on the playground. Is he a mean spirit?”
“Maybe just a confused spirit,” the old man offered. “What kind of spirit are you?”
Waaboo laughed, as if it was a goofy question. “A rabbit. I like to hop and play.”
“A rabbit is a good spirit to be,” the old man agreed.
Waaboo looked at his mother. “Are you going to Canada?”
“I’m staying here with you and Aunt Rose.”
Stephen had left the kitchen, but he returned now with a small backpack.
“Are you going to Canada, Uncle Stephen?” Waaboo asked.
“Yes, I am.” Stephen put the pack on the table and looked inside, checking the contents.
“What for?”
“We’re bringing your grandpa back.”
“Can I go?”
“Not this time, rabbit.”
Waaboo studied his uncle. “You’re a wolf.”
Stephen smiled at him and waited.
“A good wolf.” Waaboo looked at Henry. “You’re an owl.” He looked at his mother. “A mama bear.” To Daniel: “A lion.” To Rainy: “A flower garden.” And finally to Rose: “A big warm ocean.”
“Why Canada?” Rose asked as she filled the pack with the sandwiches she’d made.
“We’re pretty sure that’s where Dad and Lindsay Harris have been taken,” Stephen said. “We’re flying up. Jenny can explain it.”
“You’re going, too, Henry?” Rose asked. She didn’t say it, but she thought that for a man of his age, something like this seemed awfully unwise.
“I did not give them a choice,” the old Mide said. “I have come too far on this hunt to be left behind.”
Jenny pulled Daniel aside. She whispered something to him, something loving and reassuring, Rose figured, then kissed him and let him go.
They threw on their coats, and as they headed to the door, Jenny took the old Mide by the arm and said quietly, “Don’t let harm come to you, Henry. Or to them.”
“A clear head is the best companion of a strong heart. I will remember this and help them remember, too.”
When they’d gone, Jenny and Rose stood together in the cold draft that had come in through the opened door.
Rose whispered, “God go with them.”
Behind them, Waaboo said, “Majimanidoog.”
The women turned.
“Majimanidoog?” Rose asked.
“An Ojibwe word,” Jenny explained. “It means ‘evil spirits.’ Devils.” She went to her son and sat beside him. “Why did you say that?”
“Some people are devils,” Waaboo said. “Maybe devils took Baa-baa.”
He ate one last bite of his grilled cheese sandwich and fed the rest to Trixie.