The Haunted Igloo

by Bonnie Turner

  Suddenly, Lise ran over and got her own parka. “I’m going with you,” she stated matter-of-factly.

  Cordell gently took the coat from his wife and hung it back on the peg. He took her by the shoulders and looked into her frantic eyes. His voice was husky with emotion. “Now, I know how you feel.”

  “ No…”

  “Yes, yes I do. But think of it this way, that someone should be here in case Jean-Paul comes home.”

  Lise’s eyes misted as she thought about that. “Well, of course,” she agreed after a moment. “I suppose you’re right.”

  Cordell gave her a reassuring hug. “I’ll probably find the little stinker down at the trading post, messing around with those friends of his.”

  “Please be careful,” Lise said. “I’ll make a pot of coffee for when you get back.”

  At that moment the huskies began barking and howling. The couple turned to the door together.

  “Aha!” shouted Cordell with a slap on his thigh. He threw back his hood. “The wandering boy has come home!” He stepped quickly to the door and flung it open. He peered out into the storm. “Can’t see anything ... wait. Someone’s out there.”

  “Is—is it Jean-Paul?”

  “I can’t tell.”

  The wind battered the door. Great swirls of snow blew into the room. Cordell slammed the door against the force of the wind. The dogs kept howling. Cordell gave Lise a puzzled look as the voices of strange dogs mingled with those of his own. “Someone’s coming to visit in a blizzard? Oh, of course, they must be bringing Jean-Paul home.”

  Heavy footfalls sounded on the porch, then a loud banging at the door. Cordell threw it open. Standing there were two snow-covered figures—a short, stocky man and a boy. Cordell quickly motioned them inside and shoved the door shut.

  Cordell stepped back as the man pushed off his shaggy fur hood and shook his head like a dog, spraying the room with flakes that melted instantly on hitting the warm floor. The man seemed strangely familiar as he motioned to the boy, who stood a little way behind him.

  “Chinook!” the man cried in a deep voice.

  Cordell looked from one of them to the other. “What?”

  “Chinook, you tell!” The man shook a fist at the boy.

  Chinook stepped back, his eyes filled with fear. The man grabbed him by the back of his hood and dragged him forward. “Chinook, you tell!”

  Cordell could take no more. He held up his hand. “Wait a minute, Monsieur! What’s going on here? Who are you and what do you want?”

  The man pushed Chinook, who almost fell at Cordell’s feet. “Chinook, you tell!” roared the stranger again. Then he spoke some Inuit words Cordell couldn’t understand.

  Chinook peered from beneath the hood of his parka, his eyes darting from one man to the other like a frightened fox. Cordell recognized him as Jean-Paul’s schoolmate.

  “He doesn’t speak good French, Monsieur Ardoin,” said Chinook in a small voice.

  “Is this man your father?” Cordell asked Chinook.

  Lise came up to them. She started to speak, then closed her mouth and looked down at the boy.

  Chinook glanced shyly at Jean-Paul’s mother, then turned to Cordell. “He’s my father, yes.” He looked at his father from the corner of his eye. “His name is Taguk, and he can’t talk French, just Inuktitut.”

  “Ah, yes, I do believe we met once before.”

  Cordell motioned to a chair, meaning for Taguk to sit. But the man was upset and anxious. He shook his head, then spoke to his son. Chinook’s face turned dark red.

  Cordell spoke gently to the frightened boy. “What is it, Chinook? Is it Jean-Paul? You boys were supposed to bring him home. Where is he?”

  Chinook looked from Cordell to Lise and hesitated as he tried to find words for what needed saying. And that’s when Cordell lost patience and became very angry.

  “Well, I’m waiting! Do you or do you not know where our son is?”

  “We didn’t mean any harm, Monsieur Ardoin!” Chinook sputtered.

  “Where’s Jean-Paul?” thundered Cordell.

  “I don’t know! I don’t know!” cried Chinook. His dark eyes filled with fear and concern. “Please, Monsieur Ardoin, we have to look for Jean-Paul! We didn’t mean to lose him!”

  Cordell grabbed Chinook by the shoulders. “Lose him? What are you talking about? Where did you leave Jean-Paul?”

  “At the old apudyak. We left him in there, a big joke. He wanted to join the Ice Patrol—”

  Cordell dropped his hands from Chinook’s shoulders and stared at him. “Yes, yes, we know he wanted to join the club, but—” He glanced at Lise. She was like a stone, staring blankly at the boy. “Go on, Chinook, tell us what happened.” Cordell took his wife’s hand in his.

  “He was inside the apudyak.” The boy’s voice shook. Several times he forgot and spoke in his native language. His eyes moved from one adult to another. “We left him in there for two hours. We were going to let him out, but—”

  Cordell’s voice fell to a whisper. “You left him in the igloo? What igloo?”

  “Yes, Monsieur. The big one.”

  “You can’t be talking about the haunted igloo!”

  Chinook nodded. “But you see, Monsieur Ardoin, it’s not really haunted!”

  Cordell groaned. “You know that and I know that. But I believe Jean-Paul thought it was.” He sighed. “Now we know where he is. He’s just waiting for the storm to stop so he can come home.” Cordell gave Lise a hug. “That means he’s safe, honey.”

  Chinook shook his head. “But he isn’t! He wasn’t there when we got back! And he couldn’t get out because—” Chinook, brave as he always appeared to be, began crying. “My father made me come here! I looked for Jean-Paul! All of us looked for him, Monsieur Ardoin. Nanuk and Aiverk, too, even when they wanted to go home. But the storm was bad. We couldn’t find Jean-Paul anywhere!” Taguk spoke sharply to Chinook. “My father says we are wasting time. He says we have to go look for Jean-Paul right now before he freezes to death.”

  “Dear God,” murmured Cordell.

  Lise drew in a sharp breath. Cordell’s heart seemed to stop pumping. He said to Lise, “I’m going with them!” He turned to Chinook. “If anything happens to my son—!” He made a threatening move toward the boy, but Lise stopped him.

  “No, Cordell! He’s just a frightened boy!”

  “Well, so am I!” yelled Cordell. He tried to remain calm as he faced Chinook again, but his voice quivered. “I’ll get my team ready.” He pulled his hood up and fastened it.

  Lise stood quietly by, too upset to speak, tears running down her cheeks. Cordell raised her chin gently until he could see into her eyes. “Will you be all right?” Lise nodded. He kissed her cheek and opened the door for the others. Taguk stopped him, barking strange words and waving his hands in the air. Cordell turned to Chinook. “What did he say?”

  “Taguk says we’ll take our team!” Chinook wiped away his tears. “He says our dogs are faster. They know how to get around in this storm. We’ll take our team, Monsieur Ardoin, please?”

  Cordell clamped a large hand over the boy’s shoulder. “Please tell Taguk I said thanks.” Then he remembered the word for “thank you.” He turned to Taguk. “Nakomik! Nakomik!”

  Chapter 6

  Jean-Paul was so cold he couldn’t cry. To another human he would have looked like a small, staggering snowman. Each time he fell, he was only a lump in the deep snow. Once, after struggling to his feet, he moved forward only to sink almost out of sight in a drift.

  Sasha called to him over the roar of the wind: Hurry! Hurry, Jean-Paul! Hurry! We have to get home! In Jean-Paul’s confused mind, he could almost hear words from an animal who could not speak. He couldn’t see Sasha anymore, nor could he see much of anything at all. His eyes were crusted shut with thick blotches of sticky snow that had blown in around his hood. His nostrils were dry and swollen, his lips caked with blood where he had bitten them when he had fallen. His fur-lin
ed mittens were wet, cold, and useless, for each time he fell, snow went inside. Stiff and hard and painful, his fingers were small icicles. He fell often, for the snow was much too deep for walking.

  “Ma ... Ma . . .” Jean-Paul’s voice was weak, the words barely out of his mouth before the wind and blowing snow carried them away. He sank helplessly to his knees. He heard Sasha whine and felt her cold nose as it nudged his cheek. With his remaining strength, he pulled the pup’s shaggy body against his hurting face. He was tired and weak, and his body felt numb as he lay down in the snow.

  ____________

  The wind grew calmer, but heavy snow continued to fall, creating a silent, deathly wilderness. From a distance shone a small yellow light, moving first to the left, then to the right. Closer and closer it came, and with it came the sounds of a howling dog team.

  Sasha sat up from her watch over Jean-Paul. Up went her furry, black-tipped ears, turning in the direction of the furious yapping and yelping of the strange huskies. She knew it was not Tork, nor any other dogs from home. She rose on all fours and watched, her muscles rippling with excitement beneath her fur. She wagged her tail, then she whined. But she dared not leave Jean-Paul alone. Whoever was out there in the darkness would have to come to them.

  The light veered off in another direction, the barking and howling grew fainter. Sasha danced and jumped around in the snow, howling loudly.

  The other team heard, and answered. The lantern light turned back in the right direction, growing bigger and brighter as the team and sled came plowing in.

  Cordell and Chinook came on snowshoes before the sled, lifting their feet straight up out of the soft snow and stamping it down so the dogs could run. Cordell, swinging the lamp, caught sight of Sasha first. She bounded up to him and nearly knocked him down. He ruffled her long neck hair. “Where’s Jean-Paul?” he cried, trying to catch his breath. He was worn out, his legs weak and heavy from tromping. “Take me to Jean-Paul, Sasha!”

  Sasha’s reply was a mixture of woof and howl, and with Cordell close behind, she led him to the snow-covered lump that was Jean-Paul.

  “Oh! Dear God!” Cordell gasped, dropping the lantern. He knelt in the snow to scoop up his son. He staggered to his feet under the load and the clumsiness of the big snowshoes. Chinook came up behind.

  “Is it Jean-Paul?” Chinook picked up the lantern and held it to Jean-Paul’s face, which looked yellow in the lamplight. “Oh, no. Is he—is he dead?”

  Cordell struggled for breath. His lungs hurt to breathe. “He’s very ... cold ... needs help fast ... hope we’re not too late.” He heard a sharp cry from Chinook.

  Chinook hurried alongside Cordell. “He’s so little, Monsieur Ardoin! A small okalerk.”

  “A small boy, Chinook!”

  “Yes, sure, Monsieur. That’s what I meant.”

  Taguk and his team pulled up. The noise of strange dogs filled the night, Taguk’s harsh Inuit dialect rising above the din. Sasha ignored them and pranced by Cordell’s side as he carried Jean-Paul to the waiting sled.

  Taguk spoke sharply to the team, and they became still. Chinook pulled back a thick bearskin robe and Cordell laid Jean-Paul on it, rolling him up like a sausage, with only his nose poking out. Sasha jumped onto the sled and lay next to Jean-Paul, daring anyone to prevent a husky from hitching a ride on a dogsled.

  “Tell your father we’re ready,” Cordell told Chinook. “And tell him to hurry!”

  ____________

  Cordell and Lise sat beside Jean-Paul’s bed for the rest of the night. Jean-Paul was exhausted and slept fitfully, sometimes crying out in his sleep. Lise roused him from time to time to spoon warm meat broth and tea between his swollen, bruised lips. His eyes seemed sunken in his small face, but the warmth of the soup brought color back to his cheeks.

  Now Sasha lay at the foot of the bed, her sad blue eyes riveted on Jean-Paul. She had not even tasted the hearty meal Cordell had set before her.

  Lise spoke softly to her husband, “That pup saved our boy’s life. She didn’t leave him alone in the storm.”

  Cordell agreed. He reached down and scratched the dog’s ear. “You’re one in a million, aren’t you, girl?” Sasha whined and crept closer to Jean-Paul, laying her muzzle on his leg.

  Lise was thoughtful for a long time. Then, “It was a terrible thing those boys did. They’ll probably be punished for this.”

  Cordell sighed. He was still very tired from his long trek in the snow and cold. “Well, I’m sure Chinook’s already punished himself, in his mind. Imagine the guilt he would have carried the rest of his life if Jean-Paul had . . .” He could not make himself say the word.

  Lise smoothed Jean-Paul’s covers and lay a warm hand against his cheek. She was satisfied that he was thawing out nicely. His skin grew warmer by the minute.

  “Jean-Paul did not die,” she said quietly. “He will not die, thank God.”

  Jean-Paul’s eyelids fluttered at the sound of his name. He opened his eyes at his mother’s gentle touch. His eyes moved from Lise to his father. Sasha raised her head and spoke. He brought his hand from beneath the blankets and laid it on her head. He didn’t speak, but his eyes filled with tears.

  “What is it, darling?” Lise asked, leaning over him. “Are you in pain?”

  Jean-Paul shook his head. “No.” Still, he didn’t speak.

  Cordell’s eyes were shiny and wet. He swallowed a lump in his throat and touched the boy gently on the top of his head. “You’re going to be just fine, son. You were dressed warmly. And there’s just a small bit of frostbite on your face and hands. That will heal. I suspect Sasha lay down in the snow with you to keep you warm. It’s a fine dog you’ve got yourself.”

  Jean-Paul’s eyes brightened for a moment and he looked at his mother again.

  “What is it, dear? Why don’t you talk to us?” Lise looked at her husband. “What’s wrong with him, Cordell?”

  Cordell wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and smiled at Lise. “Nothing’s wrong. He’ll talk when he’s ready.” He looked fondly down at Jean-Paul. “Your friend Chinook told us what happened. When the boys went back for you, you were already gone. Chinook and his father helped search for you. That shows how worried Chinook was.”

  Lise laughed nervously. “To think you were only about a quarter of a mile from that igloo. But in the opposite direction from home.”

  At the mention of Chinook and the igloo, Jean-Paul’s eyes filled with terror. His mind cried over and over, loud inside his own head: How can I tell them what happened inside that igloo? No one would believe I saw spirit wolves! I can’t tell them I was a baby! How can I go to school and face the other boys? Jean-Paul’s brain was afire with troublesome thoughts. When he closed his eyes again, the darkness inside his mind was full of green eyes, the eyes of the torngark. He began to shake, and his mother fed him soup again, thinking he was cold.

  “Please try to eat some more,” she urged. “You need warmth for the inside of your body.”

  Jean-Paul opened his mouth and felt the warm, meaty liquid on his tongue. It tasted good. When he had finished and had fallen asleep again, Cordell helped Lise from the chair. “You’ve had a long night,” he told her. “You’d better get some rest.”

  “Suppose he calls for me?” She yawned. She could hardly keep her eyes open.

  “He’ll most likely sleep for a long time, Lise. I think the worst is over. Now you must think of yourself and our baby.”

  “Jean-Paul’s still my baby,” Lise said, looking over her shoulder at the sleeping boy as Cordell led her from the room.

  “A child of ten isn’t exactly a baby anymore,” Cordell said seriously. “I’m thinking we may have to give him more room to grow, eh?”

  “He’s so young,” said Lise with a sigh. “But of course you’re right.”

  Cordell saw Lise to their small room and helped her lie down. The old windup clock beside the bed said four o’clock. Cordell removed her shoes and tucked her under the covers.. Then he
kissed her good night, though it was nearly day.

  “Try to sleep,” he said.

  Lise’s eyes were already closed. Cordell looked down at her for a long time. Then he turned out the lamp and went back to sit at Jean-Paul’s bedside.

  Outside, the snow had stopped falling. It was early morning, but Cordell knew there would be no sunrise. In a few more months it would be spring again. He gave silent thanks that Jean-Paul had come to no real harm. Another few minutes in that storm would have been too late.

  Sasha pricked up her ears, as though reading Cordell’s thoughts. She opened her eyes and looked at him.

  “How I wish you could talk,” Cordell whispered. “I wish I knew what really happened inside that igloo.”

  ____________

  The next day Jean-Paul’s temperature rose. His eyes were hot and glassy-looking, and he didn’t know where he was. As Lise bathed his blotchy-red face, he rolled his head from side to side saying, “The torngark! Don’t let the torngark get me Sasha!”

  Then he coughed hard, and Lise was afraid he was getting pneumonia.

  “He needs to be in the hospital,” she told Cordell.

  Cordell himself was plenty worried. “Perhaps,” he said. “But the blizzard made travel impossible for a while. We’ll just wait and see. Keep him warm and give him lots of water and broth.” Cordell was very sad. “Now I’m not so sure I should have asked you to move up here with me.”

  “Oh, well, it’s all right,” Lise said. She looked deeply into his eyes and spoke gently. Somehow she must set aside her own feelings. She knew her husband was hurting, too. “How could you have known something like this would happen?”

  Cordell shrugged and shook his head. “Maybe that’s just the point, Lise. In this wild climate anything can happen, as we’ve just found out. I feel more than a little selfish, because I jumped at the chance to work here in the Northwest Territories without giving it much thought. You and Jean-Paul are all I have.”