Caterpillars Can't Swim Read online

  The officer gets out of her car first and comes up over the bridge. Officer Peabody. Of course, that’s who would get the call. She doesn’t say anything when she realizes Jack is here and Cody has him. She stands close and waits. Jack doesn’t acknowledge her presence. He might not even know she’s here.

  I smile because I’m actually glad to see her this time.

  I watch for my mom, but she’s taking a while to get out of her car.

  Cody is still talking to Jack, and I still can’t hear them. Jack nods a little and then puts his hand over his face. Officer Peabody stands right beside him, one hand resting on the railing by Jack’s side.

  My mother finally gets out of the car. I try waving at her, but she doesn’t wave back. She’s still standing there in the relentless torrents of rain. Why?

  A few seconds later she walks over to the passenger side and opens the door. Someone gets out. It takes me a second to realize that it’s Jack’s mom.

  I look over to see if Jack has noticed, but he’s still facing the other way.

  Both of them come over to us. My mother bends down and hugs me, squeezing me tightly and kissing my cheek.

  “Are you all right?” she asks.

  “I’m fine,” I tell her, which she knows is a lie. “How did you get her to come?” I nod toward Jack’s mom.

  “She was already halfway out the door when I drove up.”

  Jack’s mom moves over to the railing, nods at the officer, and then touches Cody on the shoulder. He looks like he just might tell her to screw off. She speaks to him for a couple of seconds and then he lets go of Jack, moving away slowly, as if he doesn’t trust that Jack is safe with his own mother.

  I don’t blame him.

  “She was awful to him. She should have known better,” I tell my mom. I can feel angry tears mixing in with the rain.

  “She was…shocked. She wasn’t thinking. She knows better now.” It sounds like an excuse to me and not a very good one.

  “Is she going to fix it? Make it okay with him? Is he going to be okay?” I ask, wanting her to tell me that everything will be all right the way she always did when I was little and something was upsetting me.

  “She told me she’ll do whatever it takes to make things right for Jack.” I search her face to see if she’s telling me the truth. I can’t really tell because between her tears, my tears, and all the rain, her expression is pretty much washed away.

  “Do you believe her?”

  “Yes, I do, and that gives me hope that both of them are going to be okay. They’ll need a lot of help along the way but I believe she does love him and wants the best for him.”

  “It looked like she was more worried about what’s best for her. She shouldn’t have treated him like that. He was trying, you know? Making plans. But he was so scared of her. And she treated him like shit.” My mother nods and looks at me for a long time.

  “I know. She was taken by surprise and handled it badly. It isn’t right or fair but people…parents do that sometimes. You know that you don’t ever have to be scared of me. You know that I love you. Always. Right?” She’s holding me by the shoulders, looking straight into my eyes like she’s trying to burn her words into them.

  “Yes. I know.” My chest feels like it’s going to break wide open, but my mother grabs me in another tight hug that keeps me together.

  She finally eases back and gives me another kiss. We look over to where Jack’s mother has both arms wrapped around her son, holding him as tightly as my mother just held me. As we stand there watching, I see Jack’s arms slowly come up and return the hug.

  Cody comes over to us, and Mom gives him a big hug too.

  “Thanks,” I say to him.

  “Told you I had his back,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal.

  We all stay there for what seems like a very long time as the storm whirls around us, trying to grab our attention. Jack’s mom is talking to him, and every once in a while I see him nod. She never lets go of him for a second, just keeps on hugging and talking until we’re all so wet that it feels like the water has started to seep through the skin, down into our bones.

  Finally, the two of them turn around. Officer Peabody walks beside them as they come to the middle of the bridge where the rest of us are waiting.

  Jack’s mom forces herself to let go of her son and walks over to me. She stands looking at me for a few seconds with the same endless-pit eyes that her son likes to use on people. I start to get nervous that she’s going to rat me out to my mother. I don’t think Mom would be too impressed by the way I talked to her, even if everything I said was true.

  In the end, she doesn’t say anything at all—just wipes her eyes and gives me a tiny smile. Then she turns back and puts her arm firmly across Jack’s shoulders, pulling him in close to her side.

  Cody grins at Jack. “So,” he says, “you better come by the pool one of these days. If you’re going to keep hanging out here, I think it’s time someone taught you to swim.”

  Every once in a while Cody manages to surprise me.

  Jack also looks surprised for a second, but then he gives Cody a tiny smile before walking slowly across the bridge with his mother, neither of them looking back as they head home.

  Cody comes up behind me and pushes my wheelchair to the other side of the bridge. I’m glad he can’t see my face. I’m feeling a bit choked up at his offer to teach Jack to swim.

  “You know, it actually kind of sucks that I didn’t have to jump in after him. I’d like to try being an actual hero sometime and save someone from drowning, like Super Ryan.”

  And he’s back.

  I laugh as my mother looks at him with something close to shock. “I think you just did,” I tell him. We keep on moving, putting the river behind us, while my mother stands in the rain and watches us go.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, I need to express my overwhelming gratitude to Margie Wolfe and all of the staff of Second Story Press for their ongoing support of my writing these past eight years…even if that means rejecting a manuscript now and then so that I can go back to the writing board and create something better! Special thanks to Kathryn Cole for her instant faith in my little story and her patience with me during the whirlwind editing process that followed the quickest turnaround in my career, and to Kathryn White for helping me keep my names straight and making sure I’m not repeating myself.

  My deepest gratitude to the grandmother who came to my signing last year and took the time to tell me about her young grandson who was about to learn how to use his first wheelchair. Ryan has borrowed some of your story to create his own and I sincerely hope that this book becomes only one of a very large and diverse selection of stories with characters that your grandson can relate to as he grows into a reader.

  Finally a quick but heartfelt thanks to the many individuals and organizations dedicated to helping young people find a way out of the darkness back to a place of hope.

  About the Author

  Liane Shaw is the author of several books for teens, including thinandbeautiful.com, Fostergirls, The Color of Silence, and Don’t Tell, Don’t Tell, Don’t Tell, as well as a work of non-fiction called Time Out: A teacher’s year of reading, fighting, and four-letter words. Liane was an educator for more than 20 years, both in the classroom and as a special education resource teacher. Now retired from teaching, Liane lives with her family in the Ottawa Valley in Ontario.

  Dedication

  For Jamie

  You left us long before we were ready to say good-bye.

  Now all we can do for you is dream.

  Copyright

  Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

  Shaw, Liane, 1959-, author

  Caterpillars can’t swim / by Liane Shaw.

  Issued in print and electronic formats.

  ISBN
978-1-77260-053-7 (softcover).­—

  ISBN 978-1-77260-054-4 (EPUB)

  I. Title.

  PS8637.H3838C38 2017 jC813'.6 C2017-902845-6

  C2017-902846-4

  Copyright © 2017 by Liane Shaw

  First published in the USA in 2018

  Edited by Kathryn White and Kathryn Cole

  Design by Melissa Kaita

  Cover © iStock.com

  Printed and bound in Canada

  Second Story Press gratefully acknowledges the support of the

  Ontario Arts Council and the Canada Council for the Arts for our

  publishing program. We acknowledge the financial support of the

  Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund.

  Published by

  Second Story Press

  20 Maud Street, Suite 401

  Toronto, ON M5V 2M5

  www.secondstorypress.ca