The Ghost of Ontario (Part 1) (10 Grade Draft)

Chapter 39: Grief for the Bird

Song: "Ly-O-Lay Ale Loya" - Sacred Spirit

        Ihaan told Camp Juniper a story that night. I have to admit, he was pretty good with stories.

After Dad tended to him, – wrapped his ankle with a fresh bandage and cleaned his nose – we helped him over to Uncle Macon. He took his left arm, while Dad held him by the right, and they worked together to help him into the hammock.

During that time, Uncle Clement and Uncle Harrison finished setting up camp, and Aunt Lydia returned with a load of firewood.

Mom, Aunt Delia, and Aunt Jessie together looked up from cooking, but Mom huffed and closed her eyes, looking away. She was more jealous with Ihaan's survival skills rather than the fact that she had been wrong.

        Once we made sure Ihaan was comfortable, everybody, except Uncle Bart and I, hustled over to the picnic table and helped cook dinner.

Aunt Lydia made a fire, and Uncle Bart and I stayed with Ihaan. Uncle Bart placed a cool, new rag to his forehead, and I tossed his blanket over him. I returned his spear to his canoe, so all his belongings were together again.

While Uncle Bart and I watched over the boy, Uncle Bart admitted, "This is so remarkable." He glanced at me. "Sorry about earlier, my dear. I didn't mean to make you feel like I turned against you. I just found Ihaan too amazing to be real. But now I see that I made an enormous mistake."

I patted his hand and comfortably spoke, "Don't worry, Uncle Bart. It's not every day you meet an amnesic hermit in the Lady Evelyn-Smoothwater Provincial Park. I'm just glad I finally found another teenager to hang out with." I sighed. "I was so worried I was stuck. No offense, Uncle Bart."

"Ah, don't worry, Kylie Wylie." Uncle Bart chuckled, and he waved his hand. "I'd feel the same way if I was your age again and stuck in the wilderness with a bunch of old people. You acquired a very unique solution, though. I wish I was as lucky as you."

I blushed. "Yeah." I peered down on Ihaan again. "However, I'm worried about Ihaan. I think he's hurt far worse than I thought he was. We've got to get him a doctor."

"How about let's do this?" asked Uncle Bart, and he nudged my shoulder. "Let's try to convince him to join Camp Juniper. We can help him to Lady Evelyn Lake so he can help that animal. If he's still hurting this much when we reach it, then we'll either call for a helicopter to airlift him to a hospital or take him all the way to Latchford. It will really depend on the severity of his ankle injury and pain level. The ankle is what we have to watch. He obviously severely broke it once and never got medical treatment for it. We just need to know when he broke it and how long he's had to deal with it. If he comes with us, we can also try to help him find his lost memories. You say he's been out here for ten years?"

I nodded. "Yes, sir. I want to know how old he was when he got lost, so that's why I need him to remember his age. He thinks he's ten because he doesn't remember anything before ten years ago. All he remembers is that his last name is 'Kronin.'"

"Kronin?"

"Yes, Uncle Bart, which that brings me to the conclusion that this dry bag is his." Here, I picked up the mysterious, yellow dry bag that I pulled out of Dad's canoe and held it out to Uncle Bart.

"Oh well, what do you know?" he asked, and adjusting his glasses, he took the dry bag out of my hand. "Perhaps there will be a clue about his age in here?"

        Ihaan was a very light sleeper. I don't think he was ever fully asleep because he frequently spoke things that told us he had been listening in. He suddenly opened his mouth and spoke, but he didn't open his eyes. "Oh no. Keep those quacky doctors away from me."