I SAT THERE beside my mom, staring at my bare feet on the beige carpet. I didn’t have any words, but my mind was full of thoughts, all buzzing this way and that like a hive full of bees. Though that didn’t make sense, because my thoughts were all over the place, going around in useless circles. Chaotic. And bees were anything but chaotic.
Bees had their own rules, and they followed them. That was why it was so disturbing—so wrong—when they suddenly disappeared by the thousands, flying away from their hives and disappearing, abandoning their young…
I caught my breath. “Mom. Bees never abandon their young, right? Not normally?”
She frowned. “Of course not.”
“And that’s why—like, with colony collapse disorder—it’s so weird when they do that, right? When they leave the young and just vanish?”
“Right.” She frowned. “Wolf, what are you getting at?”
“Just…when bees do it, it’s like it’s a sign that things are messed up, right? That the balance is off?”
“Right. So?”
I curled my toes, dug my fingernails into my palms and took a deep breath. She had to understand. I had to make her understand. “So a family is kind of like a colony, right? And ours…well, I guess it’s sort of collapsing. I mean, Violet’s run away, Whisper’s not talking, and I’m—well, I hate it. I hate what we’re doing. This trip. Thinking all the time about what a mess the world is. It’s like our balance is off. And…” I caught my breath, wished Violet was beside me, forced myself to keep going. “I know you love us, okay, Mom? And I know you don’t mean to abandon us. But that’s kind of how it feels.”
Mom had tears in her eyes. I wanted to take it all back, to make it seem like everything was okay. But I couldn’t. Because it was true. Every last word of it.
“Wolf. Wolf.” She pulled me toward her, her hands in my hair. “Why didn’t you say something?”
I squirmed free. I didn’t want her petting me. I wanted her to understand that loving us wasn’t enough. Love wasn’t magic, and it wasn’t going to fix everything. “I tried!” I said. “I tried. Like, a thousand times! And you never listened.”
“Did Violet feel…does she feel the same way?” Curtis got off his chair, moved across the room and perched beside us on the arm of the couch. “I know she wanted to be with Ty, but when we said he could come with us, I thought she was happy. I thought that was the end of it.”
“You should talk to her,” I said. “But yeah, she’s tired of the bee thing taking over our lives. And she’s worried about Whisper too.”
“We’ve all been worried about Whisper,” Curtis put in. “She’s always been an anxious kid.”
I looked at him and shrugged. “You don’t do anything about it.”
“What exactly do you think we should be doing?” Mom said. “Dragging her from doctor to doctor? Getting her labeled as having some kind of disorder? Put on medication?” She shook her head. “I’m not convinced that’s the way to go.”
“But you’re not an expert,” I said. “So maybe you should at least talk to someone who is.”
“I’ve looked it up online,” Mom said. “The not-talking thing. It’s called selective mutism. And it’s related to anxiety.” She looked at me. “But I’d rather let her grow and learn in her own way, without labels. Without pressure.”
I snorted. “Not much pressure, feeling like it’s up to us to save the world.”
Mom looked stricken. “Oh, Wolf. No. No. I’ve never said that. I just think we should all contribute what we can.”
I made a face. “We’re not all like you. And what you’re asking Whisper to do—the presentations, dressing up, talking to people we don’t even know…” I trailed off. “It’s too much. It’s way, way too much for Whisper.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again. Bit her lip. Leaned toward me. “And you, Wolf?”
“Yeah,” I said, and my voice cracked a little. It was starting to do that lately. “For me too.”
“Oh, Wolf,” she said again. “My poor, brave Wolf.”
She looked like she might start to cry. I dropped my gaze to the floor and felt like a turtle pulling its head inside its shell. “I spoke to Duncan,” I said stiffly. “I can stay with him and his mom for the summer. While you guys do this trip.”
She hesitated. “Let us talk about it, okay? I have to think about the twins too. Without Violet and you to help out… I don’t know how this is going to work.”
Not my problem, I told myself. I imagined the shell around me, hard and tough. Imagined her words bouncing off it, not touching me. “Is the van fixed?” I asked.
Curtis shook his head. “Piece of crap, that van.”
Found On Road Dead, Violet had said. Seemed like she hadn’t been so far off. Though maybe it was the vegetable-oil conversion that had messed things up. Curtis was pretty handy, but he wasn’t actually a mechanic. Plus he got most of the vegetable oil from fast-food places and Chinese restaurants. Maybe the engine was gummed up with stray pieces of egg roll. That’d explain the rancid smell.
Curtis stood up. “Wolf, how about you take the girls outside? Your mom and I need to talk. And I need to talk to my mother.” He shook his head. “Still can’t believe you all just turned up on her doorstep. Must have given her quite a shock.”
“Uh-huh.” I hesitated. “Um, she said she hadn’t talked to you for a couple of years.”
He met my eyes. “Yeah. Well, she and your mom never got along.”
“So now it’s all my mom’s fault that you guys don’t talk?” I said. “That’s not very fair.”
Mom didn’t look mad though. She just rolled her eyes. “It sure wasn’t easy, when she was on Lasqueti. Didn’t matter what I did, it wasn’t good enough. According to Diane, I’m the reason her son dropped out of college. Never mind that I didn’t even meet him until two years after that.”
Curtis shook his head but said nothing.
Mom snorted. “She’s impossible.”
Curtis put a hand on my mom’s knee. “Wolf, I’m not blaming your mom. My mother and I had problems way before I met Jade. Since I was your age. She’s the kind of person who wants everything to be a certain way. Like, it’s her way or the highway, you know? So she wasn’t ever an easy person to get along with. Let alone live with.”
Mom leaned toward him, and when she spoke her voice was wobbly. “I suspect Wolf might say the same about me.”
I looked at her, startled. “Yeah. But, uh, it’s okay. Mom. You know.”
She put her arms around me and gave me a quick, hard hug. “I know. And I love you.” Then she let me go, leaned back and studied my face like she’d never seen it before. “Growing up so fast.”
I felt heat flare in my cheeks and looked away. My face was probably bright red. “Um, I’ll go get the girls then. So you guys can talk.” I got up, walked into the kitchen and pressed my cool hands to my cheeks. Saffron and Whisper were eating chocolate chips while Mrs. Brooks beat eggs in a blue pottery bowl.
“Saffy? Whisper? You guys want to come outside and play?”
“Is Mom still here?” Saffron asked. She looked apprehensive, her speech too quick, her eyes a little too wide.
“Yeah, don’t worry. She and Curtis want to talk to your grandmother.” I stole a chocolate chip from the mound on the counter in front of her. “Come on.”
Saffy batted my hand away. “Hey!”
I laughed.
Whisper slid a chocolate chip from her pile toward me. “Here,” she said, ever so softly.
“Thanks, kiddo.” I ruffled her hair. “You two really need a bath, you know that?”
“You said we could play,” Saffron said, dashing for the door to the yard.
I started to follow her, then turned back. “Thanks, Mrs. Brooks.” I thought about what Curtis had said, about how it must have been a shock for her to have five kids suddenly show up on her doorstep. “Um, for everything. For taking care of us and everything.”
“You’re a good big brother, Wolf.” She washed her hands at the sink and dried them on a dish towel. “Go play with your sisters. And try not to worry. Things have a way of working themselves out.”
Whisper’s hand found mine and squeezed. I looked down at her. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go play.”