No More Pranks (7 page)

“Belugas,” Leblanc whispered.

“I think it's time to take some pictures,” I said, pulling out my camera. Leblanc couldn't have heard me over the sound of the motor, but I needed photographic evidence—and this was my chance. I positioned myself so I could include not just whales, but also part of the Zodiac.

When we were so close to the pod—there were six belugas in all—that I could have touched their blubbery skin, Leblanc switched off the motor. “Something's wrong with this gas gauge,” he muttered. “I filled the bloody tank this afternoon.”

He leaned over the instrument panel and began fiddling with the gauge. He was so intent on fixing whatever was wrong, he didn't seem to notice the belugas—or that I was taking pictures.

When one beluga dove, the cool spray left a misty film on my camera lens. Within a couple of minutes I'd shot a roll of film. Just as I was putting in another roll, Leblanc turned toward me. “I fixed the—” he announced, but then his eyes landed on my camera. “Hand that over! Now!” he shouted, coming toward me and tugging the camera from my neck.

I stepped back, tucking the roll of used film into the pocket of my life jacket. “What's wrong?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm, though my arms and legs felt wobbly.

“You—you!” Leblanc sputtered. “I should have known you were in cahoots with Jean Racine, that useless do-gooder.”

“I don't know what you're tal—” I began, but I never got to finish my sentence.

“I want you off this boat!” Leblanc barked. Then he lunged at me, picking me up by the waist and hoisting me over his shoulders. I tried to kick myself free, but it didn't work.

“I'm going to dump you on that island. Let's see how long it takes your uncle to find you!” As he shouted, the tape recorder—without the wire or the microphone,
which must have come undone—dropped from my pocket, landing a few inches from the pile of blankets. I watched Rosalie's thin fingers emerge from under the blankets and grab the tape recorder.

“I've had it with you! I can't take it anymore!” a strange male voice crackled. “I've told you before, and I'm telling you again. Cut it OUT!”

I'd never heard anyone sound so angry. Whoever it was was out of control.

“Where's that voice coming from?” Leblanc called out.

“I've had it with you! I can't take it any more!” the voice repeated, even more loudly than before. This time I noticed some static in the background, which is when I figured out who it was. Rosalie's father! Rosalie had rewound the tape and was playing it back at maximum volume.

“What's going on?” Leblanc yelled. Without knowing it, he'd loosened his grip on me. I jumped to the floor, landing near the pile of blankets. Don't move, Rosalie, I thought to myself.

There was no time for a plan, but I had to do something. Just then I noticed a slight wiggling in the cord next to the blankets. It's Rosalie, I thought. She's pulling on one end. But why? What is she trying to tell me?

Then I got it. You're brilliant, Rosalie, I thought. Absolutely brilliant. I reached for the cord and looped it around Leblanc's ankles.

“What the—” Leblanc was still trying to figure out where the voice was coming from. As I tugged on one end of the cord, Rosalie leapt up from under the blankets and crashed into Leblanc's knees.

Leblanc fell flat on the floor, head first, making a thud as he landed.

I thought he'd try to get up, but he didn't. He just lay there, breathing heavily.

“I think we knocked him out,” Rosalie said. The two of us worked quickly, wrapping the cord around Leblanc's body so he wouldn't be able to use his hands or feet.

We dragged him over to the pile of blankets. He didn't look too happy when he began to come to. “What's she doing here?” he asked, eyeing Rosalie.

“Sorry about all the yelling,” Rosalie said, pulling out the tape recorder and turning it back on. “I can't take it anymore!” her father's voice blared.

“That was just my father,” she added, grinning up at Leblanc. “Don't worry, he's learning to control his temper.”

On the way back, I took over at the wheel. My hands tingled with excitement. Once I got us past the small island, all I'd have to do was follow the path of the Saguenay back to Tadoussac.

Rosalie sat, squatted, close to Leblanc. “Darned kids. You won't get away with this!” he muttered. A minute later, when he tried to break free, Rosalie tightened the cord around him. After a while he stopped squirming and just stared straight ahead at the water, his chest heaving up and down.

The sky was beginning to turn pinkish orange when we reached the confluence. Which was when this totally incredible thing happened. The kind of thing you might think only happens in books or movies.

We heard splashing. Then, as if a water fountain was bursting from the bottom of the Saguenay, this huge spray of water shot up into the air. It was a whale coming up for air. As its tail rose into the sky, I spotted the familiar triangular scar.

If you read the Tadoussac newspaper or watch the news, you'll know what happened next. Leblanc lost his boating license and had to pay a huge fine. If you ask me, he kind of liked the attention. In the newspaper photographs, he's smiling so much you'd think he was some kind of soap-opera star. And in a way, as Aunt Daisy said, he was.

Other Zodiac operators were scared by what had happened to Leblanc, so there were
a lot fewer violations of the whale-watching rules that summer.

As for Rosalie and me, I guess you could say we became kind of like local heroes. We got free hot dogs and fries at the chip wagon, and the guys at Uncle Jean's kayaking company stopped giving me the crummy jobs. There were still two weeks till I had to go back to Montreal to start over at a new school—but to tell you the truth, I didn't want to leave.

I guess sometimes when you're really dreading something, it can end up surprising you. I've got to try to remember that in the future.

Rosalie and I had this routine. She'd meet me at the launching area after work. Sometimes she'd bring granola bars and we'd walk back to the B&B, stopping to sit on the rocks and look for whales.

We didn't see Petit Fou again that summer, but as Dr. Youville said, in the case of a recovering whale, no news is good news. Plus I had this strange feeling that Petit Fou was out there, keeping an eye on all of us.

“So,” Rosalie wanted to know one evening as we tossed pebbles into the Saguenay and watched the water ripple, “planning any pranks?”

“No more pranks!” I told her. Only, this time I meant it.

Charmed by Carrie Mac

Cody Dillon comes and rescues me (RESCUES ME!). He takes me to his apartment (HIS OWN APARTMENT!) and runs me a bubble bath. He lights a bunch of candles and turns the light off. He sits on the floor and keeps me company. He says I can stay here as long as I want. Um, hello, heaven? Izzy McAfferty has arrived, in case anyone wants to know
.

Izzy's mother works far away and leaves Izzy at home, alone with Rob the Slob. Angry at her mother and trying to deal with school, friends and the attentions of charismatic Cody Dillon, Izzy finds her life swirling out of control. After “borrowing” money from her mother's boyfriend, she is forced to leave home until she can repay it. Ending up with Cody and living in the city, Izzy makes misguided choices that are all wrong.

NEW Orca Soundings novel

My Time as Caz Hazard by Tanya Lloyd Kyi

“How can you be like this? What if this was our fault?” I could feel my voice growing loud and shrill
.

“Shut up!” Amanda grabbed my arm, hard. “You're not making sense. What did we have to do with it? No one kills herself over a ripped shirt. Understand?”

Moving to a new school, Caz is told she is dyslexic and sent to Special Education classes. She tries to fit in and get by while suffering the taunts and abuse that others throw at the students in her class. Her friendship with Amanda leads her into new territor—shoplifting and skipping school. Coupled with her parents' impending separation, her life is anything but stable and continues to spiral out of control. And when Caz and Amanda's behavior seems to contribute to a classmate's suicide, Caz must take a long hard look at her life.

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