The Haunted Igloo (4 page)

Outside, the dog team came
alert and rose from their snow nests. Each husky pricked up its
ears and wagged its tail eagerly at the sight of Jean-Paul and
Sasha. They whined and danced around in the snow. “Shhh,” Jean-Paul
whispered. “Go back to sleep in your snowbank. Sasha and I have
something to do, and you guys can’t go.” He moved away, and Lishta
whined at her pup. This time Jean-Paul was very stern. “Be quiet!”
Lishta tipped her head and stared at him, puzzled. Then she lay
down in the snow and put her nose on her front paws. “Good girl,”
Jean-Paul said. “Stay!” Tork and Siko sat watching, picking their
front paws up one at a time. Finally, they lay down and curled
their brushy tails around their freezing toes.

The temperature had dropped
many degrees since supper. It was crystal-cold, with snow that
squeaked when walked upon. This was a night to freeze the lungs, as
well as toes. Even the crescent moon looked cold and brittle enough
to crack. The tiny hairs inside Jean-Paul’s nose stiffened. He
hunched his face down inside his parka against the raw arctic
bite.

Days were growing shorter, with fewer hours
of light as time went on. The sun had already slipped below the
horizon. Soon, the sun would set one last time, not to be seen
again until next year. But for now, the moon and stars provided
enough light for Jean-Paul to see where he was going.

Hurrying to the shed, he
opened the door and went inside. It was not much warmer inside the
shed than it was outdoors, except that here the wind couldn’t find
him.

This was where Cordell kept
his tools, traps, and other supplies. Dog harnesses hung on rusty
nails along the wall nearest the door. A canoe lay upside down
along another wall, waiting for summer and thawing river ice. The
heating oil was stored at the rear, along with tanning supplies.
Sometimes, when there were pelts drying on the racks, the shed
smelled like wet fur and dried blood. There was a small oil burner
that Cordell used to heat the shed. But now it was cold.

Jean-Paul felt his way
through the darkened shed until he reached Cordell’s traps. Sasha
sat at his feet and whined as he found the one he
wanted.

“
Shhh,” Jean-Paul said softly. “They
mustn’t find us in here.”

In the dim light from the open door, he
pulled out a large trap with a heavy spring. He knew how traps
worked, because he had watched his father many times.

“
Come on,” he said to the
pup.

Lugging the trap outside,
he closed the door again and looked toward the cabin. Cordell had
not yet shuttered the windows for the coming blizzards, before the
terrible winds screamed down from the north. The lamplight threw
yellow patches on the snow. Jean-Paul listened for a few moments,
then went up behind the shed. He knew a good place to trap near a
small stream and a group of large boulders. Of course, the stream
was frozen now, but animals still came there for water. It amazed
Jean-Paul how they always managed to keep a hole broken in the ice
so they could drink. Jean-Paul knew his father wasn’t using this
spot, for Cordell had moved his own traps farther downstream
several weeks ago.

When he reached the stream,
Jean-Paul placed the trap on the ground and set to work baiting it.
He had saved a chunk of seal meat from the team’s supper and had
smuggled it into his pocket when no one was looking. Now, he worked
as he had seen his father do. He struggled without his mittens
until his fingers were cold and stiff. Then he warmed them inside
his parka before trying again. It seemed like forever. And,
besides, he had a frisky pup getting in his way.

“
No, Sasha! You can’t have this meat!”
he scolded. “It’s for the fox. And don’t come too close, unless you
want your toes chopped off.”

Finally, the trap was set, and Jean-Paul hid
it between two small rocks. He only hoped a fox would find it, and
not his father. He called to Sasha, and she tumbled along beside
him as he trudged through the cold and snow back to the cabin.

When Jean-Paul entered the
cabin and removed his parka, his mother looked up from her sewing
and frowned. “Where have you been?”

Jean-Paul’s cheeks were red
and so cold that they burned. He went to the stove to get warm. He
didn’t look at his mother. “Just outdoors with the
dogs.”

Cordell rose from his desk
chair and came over to Jean-Paul, standing tall above him, hand on
his hips. Jean-Paul knew that when Cordell looked down at somebody
with his hands on his hips, that somebody was really going to get
it.

“
It’s the second time in two days that
you left without telling us where you were going!” said
Cordell.

Jean-Paul glanced up
quickly, then back to the stove. “Yes, sir,” he said in a small
voice.

“
Yes sir?
Is that all you’ve got to
say, Jean-Paul? You know we have a deal! When any of us goes out at
night
for any reason
, we’re supposed to let someone know where we’re
going!”

“
Yes, sir.”
If
they hadn’t been so busy they would have seen me leave!

His father continued, “In
this country, we need to keep an eye out for each other, eh? Where
were you, son? You weren’t out with the team, because I
looked.”

Jean-Paul gulped and looked
his father straight in the eye. “I—I just took Sasha out for a
run.” It was the third lie he had told in two days. “We went up
behind the shed ... and played in the snow.”

Cordell lost his anger. He
reached out and ruffled Jean-Paul’s hair. “I don’t mind your being
out there when it’s daylight, close by. But a lot can happen in the
dark. You could freeze to death or slip into a snowdrift.”
Jean-Paul had already heard all this, a hundred times it seemed. “I
suppose that when the sun sets for the winter,” Cordell went on,
“I’ll have to make you wear headlights.” Cordell threw back his
head and laughed suddenly. “Aha! A new story! ‘The Boy Who Wore
Headlights’!”

Jean-Paul grinned as he
hung his dripping parka on the peg beside the door. It was a good
thing his father never stayed angry long. He sat on the floor and
tugged at his boots. His mother laid down her sewing and came over
to him. “It’s bedtime now,” she said. “Put the pup outdoors with
the rest of the huskies before she puddles on the
floor.”

Jean-Paul stared at his
mother. His heart fell. He’d been counting on Sasha sleeping at the
foot of his cot. They had made her go out last night, too. He
couldn’t believe it!

“
She can’t sleep without all the other
puppies!” he protested. “Ma, she’s used to sleeping with the
others. You wouldn’t make her go out with those bigger dogs, would
you? And ... and I’ll mop the puddles ... and ...
please
?”

Cordell spoke. “I said you
could keep the pup until spring, Jean-Paul. I didn’t say you could
spoil her. Then it’ll be hard to give her up when she goes.
Besides, if she’s kept too warm, she’ll lose her coat.” He motioned
to the door. “Out she goes.”

Seeing an argument was
useless, Jean-Paul hugged Sasha and opened the door. “Go on,” he
said miserably. “You have to sleep outdoors where it’s
freezing
and
snowy!
” He hoped his
parents had heard that. Didn’t they have any feelings? He gently
pushed Sasha onto the porch and closed the door behind her. The pup
whined. Jean-Paul turned to his parents, hoping they might change
their minds. But no one looked his way. He said, “She’s only
a
baby
. How would
you like for
your
baby to sleep outside in the cold?”

Lise smiled. “Good night,
Jean-Paul! Sleep well.”

Jean-Paul carried a lighted lamp to his room
and set it on the table beside his rock collection. Like a small
geologist, he had collected his own samples from around the streams
and lakes of Quebec before moving to the Northwest Territories. The
flickering light picked up the shiny bits of mica and other
minerals and brought them sparkling to life. Behind them on the
wall, their shadows grew large in the dancing swell of the flames,
reaching all the way to the bottom of the picture of his father and
himself proudly displaying a large northern pike.

Jean-Paul went to the
kitchen a few moments later and drank a dipperful of water from the
bucket. On the way back to his room, he heard his mother’s voice
from the other bedroom. He stopped outside the door to listen. Her
voice was soft and sad.

“
I wanted to have my baby in a real
hospital, not some tumbledown settlement clinic in the
land-of-nowhere.”

“
I’m sorry,” Jean-Paul’s father said.
“If I could change things I would.”

Lise answered, “It’s not
your fault. But I miss my parents and sisters. I miss our other
home and furniture. I miss Quebec!”

“
You know you could have taken
Jean-Paul and gone back on the plane.”

“
Without you? Don’t be silly,
Cordell.” There was a moment of silence, then Lise said, “Well,
I’ll manage. Don’t I always?”

In the long silence that
followed, Jean-Paul imagined that his father was holding his
mother, comforting her. Then Cordell spoke softly. “Try not to
worry, dear. Everything will be fine, eh? Someday everything will
turn out just right. And someday we might even find a doctor who
can mend our boy’s foot.”

Jean-Paul’s heart jumped as
his mother replied, “I couldn’t wish for anything more.”

He tiptoed back to his room
and undressed down to his first layer of underwear. He thought of
the comments about his foot. Sometimes he had wondered if it could
be straightened, but he had never talked much about it. But now the
idea really excited him. Since coming to the Arctic, the foot was a
constant embarrassment, a reminder that he wasn’t quite like the
other boys. No wonder they teased him. But he guessed it would take
a miracle to fix it. He tried to imagine how wonderful it would be
to walk normally.

He lowered the wick on the
lamp, then sat on the edge of the cot and stared at the small
window. In a short space of time, clouds had rolled in and blocked
out the moon and starlight. It was pitch black outside now, and
there was nothing blacker than a starless night above the Arctic
Circle. There was no curtain on the window, either, because,
according to his father, there was nothing outdoors to watch
him
through
a
window. Still, as far as Jean-Paul was concerned, there was
always
something out there
looking in, and he was going to insist that his father hurry and
shutter the window.

Jean-Paul climbed into his sleeping bag and
turned away from the window. Soon, his eyelids grew heavy; his dark
lashes fell against his cheeks, and he slept.

A short time later,
Jean-Paul awoke with a start, his face and neck drenched with
sweat. He buried himself deeper into the sleeping bag, trembling
violently from head to foot. His heart banged and hammered and hurt
inside his chest. Blood rushed through his head, roaring and
howling in his ears. Bits of the nightmare flashed into his mind.
He screwed his eyes up tightly, trying to keep the awful pictures
out. But on they came: giant-sized wolves with blood-dripping
fangs. He heard their heavy panting as they came closer, their eyes
nothing but shiny green slits. He felt the warmth and smelled the
stink of their breath. Jean-Paul screamed over and over in his mind
as he cowered inside the bag. And after a while, they faded
away.

His heartbeat slowly
returned to normal, the shaking of his small body stopped. He
uncovered his face and looked around. The lamp still glowed.
There’s nothing to be afraid of
,
he kept telling himself.
Nothing, Jean-Paul. Nothing but a bad
dream.
Yet Jean-Paul dared not look toward
the window.

He tried to sleep, but
found he couldn’t. After a few moments of tossing, he got up and
tiptoed through the cabin. He carefully slipped open the door. It
creaked loudly. He turned and looked into the dark room. Sure that
no one had heard, he opened the door wide. Kneeling on hands and
knees, he peered out into the darkness. The keen polar air slugged
him in the face.

“
Sasha. Sasha,” he whispered. Thinking
he heard a sound behind him, he turned around again. But, except
for his father’s raspy snoring, the room was quiet. “Sasha?” he
whispered again. Chains rattled from the end of the cabin. One of
the other dogs whined. Jean-Paul held his breath, hoping they
didn’t give any signals.

Suddenly, a bouncing bundle
of fur jumped right into his face, licking and sniffing and
whining. Wet kisses tickled Jean-Paul’s nose. He picked up the pup
and squeezed her, kissed the top of her furry head, and buried his
nose in the long fur. Sasha squirmed and wagged her
tail.

He carried the pup to his
room and dropped her on the cot. Then he climbed into his sleeping
bag and called her. She wanted to play, to wiggle and jump. She
went into the bottom of the bag and nibbled his toes. Then she came
up and nuzzled his face, licking and licking. He whispered in her
ear, “Go to sleep.”

____________

L
ise nudged Cordell in the ribs. He snorted and rolled over.
“Are you awake?” She pushed his arm away as he flung it over her
chest. “Cordell, wake up!”