Lise dropped her arms from Jean-Paul’s shoulders and turned to her husband. “Oh, Cordell, I was trying to forget that trip!”
Cordell’s voice was gentle and reassuring when he spoke. “I’ll be back before the baby comes, eh? In the meantime, you have Jean-Paul to keep you company.”
He clamped a big hand on the boy’s shoulder. “You’ll help your mother, won’t you, son?”
Jean-Paul had wished to go on the trip, too. But Cordell had already told him he couldn’t miss school. Because of that haunted igloo business, he had already missed enough. Jean-Paul knew his father was right—school had to come first.
“We’ll be okay, Pa.” It was hard to hide his disappointment.
“Sure you will,” Cordell said. “You’re a big boy now, eh, Jean-Paul?”
Jean-Paul smiled. It certainly seemed true that today he really did feel much bigger and older.
Chapter 9
The first week of March dawned bright and clear. Jean-Paul and his mother stood outside watching Cordell’s freight sled until it was nearly out of sight. He turned to them once and waved, then vanished beyond a far hill. Now there was nothing but the team’s barking in the distance, a sad and lonely sound that gave Jean-Paul the chills.
His mother slipped an arm around him. “What will we do now? Just the two of us.” She sighed and led Jean-Paul back to the cabin.
____________
That week, Jean-Paul went to school on his own sled, with Sasha pulling. Thinking of his mother, he went home right after school.
“My mother needs me,” he told his friends. “With Pa away she worries about the baby coming.” He tried to sound like a person who could take charge of things, no matter what.
Jean-Paul helped his mother with the chores after school, and when she wasn’t busy with other things, Lise worked on a tiny pair of fur boots. In the evenings, they played checkers or read to each other. Jean-Paul knew his mother missed Cordell.
A few days before Cordell was due home, Jean-Paul thought his mother seemed very tense. She kept pacing the floor and going to the window. But the window was still boarded up and she couldn’t see outside.
She picked up the baby boots. “I’m almost finished with these.” She handed them to Jean-Paul. “Pretty fox-fur bootees to match the small parka.”
Jean-Paul held a tiny boot in each palm. “What can fit into these?” He laughed. “Maybe my big toe!”
His mother mussed his curly hair and kissed his cheek. “Babies have tiny feet,” she said.
Jean-Paul looked down at his own feet in their scratchy wool stockings. “Maybe our baby will have regular feet, not like the crooked one I was born with.”
“I’m sure the baby will be normal. But even if she isn’t, she’ll always remember that her big brother made her first pair of boots.”
“You made them,” Jean-Paul said. “I just trapped the fox.”
“Yes, but you did it for me and the baby,” Lise said with a quick hug. “It was the nicest thing you could have done for us.”
Jean-Paul stroked the soft fur, then gave the boots back to her. “I wanted the fur very much, but I’m sorry the fox had to die.”
____________
Sometime during the night, Jean-Paul awoke at the sound of footsteps. It occurred to his sleepy brain that his father might have come home. A lamp burned dimly in the other room, but he heard no voices. Since he was too sleepy to investigate, he rolled over, pulled the sleeping bag over his head again, and fell back to sleep.
____________
“Wake up, Jean-Paul!” Someone nudged his shoulder. “Jean-Paul, please.”
Jean-Paul’s oil lamp burned brightly and shone through his closed eyelids. Why had someone called him? He didn’t want to wake up.
“It’s Saturday.” He turned over and hid his face again. “Go away—”
“Jean-Paul, wake up! I will not go away. I need your help! Please get up!”
His mother’s voice! Why was she waking him in the middle of the night? Into his mind came Cordell’s voice: “You’re a big enough boy to help your mother, eh?”
This time Jean-Paul rolled over on his back and blinked his eyes open, squinting at the light. His mother stood beside his cot, her blond hair hanging loosely over one shoulder. It framed her face like a golden halo in the lamp glow. He rubbed his eyes and sat up.
“What time is it?”
“Four o’clock,” answered Lise. “I didn’t want to wake you, but there’s no one else.”
She stopped talking and inhaled deeply, her hand resting on her big belly.
“What’s the matter, Ma?” Jean-Paul jumped out of bed and looked at her in alarm. He touched her gently on the arm. “Ma!”
After a moment Lise breathed easier. She turned to him, her face very serious. Jean-Paul saw that she was fully dressed in rugged outdoor clothing.
She brushed his hair from his eyes, then grasped his shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes. “Are you awake enough to hear what I’m saying?”
“Uh-huh.”
She nodded. “Okay. Then listen carefully, Jean-Paul. I need your help badly. The baby is ready to be born.”
For a moment Jean-Paul thought he hadn’t heard right. “The baby? But—”
“That’s right, honey. You must help me get to the hospital.” Lise’s gray eyes sparkled in the dim light. “We must hurry!”
Jean-Paul was stunned. “But Ma! It’s not time yet! You can’t have the baby till Pa comes back! You can’t.”
Lise smiled. “Sometimes babies come early. There’s nothing you, I, or anyone else can do about that. Please get dressed.”
Jean-Paul didn’t know what to do. He stared at his mother with his mouth hanging open.
“Jean-Paul, now!” Lise ordered. “I know how you must feel, but come on and get dressed.” She lowered herself gently to the side of Jean-Paul’s bed and drew in a sharp breath. Jean-Paul was frightened. He knew he had to help. He dressed quickly, and again his mother was back to normal.
“I’m sorry,” she said, and began braiding her hair.
Jean-Paul wanted to be brave. Now that Cordell was away, his mother depended on him to help her.
“We’ll go in Pa’s big sled,” Jean-Paul said. “He took the freight sled and left the other one here. Mine’s too small.”
His mother nodded. “Do you think Sasha can pull that big sled?”
“I told you she’s strong. I think she can pull it.”
“I hope so,” Lise said with a smile. “I’ve already laid out a few things to take along. Warm robes, blankets, and the lantern, of course.”
Jean-Paul went outside a few moments later to harness Sasha. The young husky jumped around in excitement. What was Jean-Paul doing, putting on the harness in the middle of the night? She pranced around so much, her bells jingling loudly, that Jean-Paul could hardly work the leather straps. “Stand still!” he yelled. His words drifted away into the still, cold night. It was so silent that he could have screamed at the top of his lungs, and no one would have heard except his mother and his dog. Alone: that’s what he was.
Sasha whined. She was ready to go before the sled was. Then, finally, the straps were in place over her chest and back. Jean-Paul had already loaded the sled. Now he hoped there would be room for his mother. He hooked the leather leads to the sled and to Sasha.
Lise came outdoors wearing Cordell’s extra fur parka. She sat down on the sled, leaned back against the bundle of supplies, and pulled a bearskin robe around her shoulders and over her legs. Then she spoke to the dog. “You must go like the wind, Sasha!” And to Jean-Paul she said, “Do you think you can find the trail in the dark?”
Jean-Paul laughed. “I’ve gone to school in the dark for months. And besides, Sasha knows the way better than I do.”
He took one last look at their home. The cabin looked lonely out there in the middle of nowhere, as it had when he first saw it. He released the brake and pushed off from behind the sled. It never entered
his mind that the sled might be too much for him as well as for the husky.
“Hah!” he shouted. “Take me to school, Sasha! Hah! Hah! Go to school, Sasha! Find Amarok!”
Sasha wagged her tail and barked. Jean-Paul held his breath and pushed at the heavy sled. The husky leaned into the harness, straining with all her might under the big load. But soon she had her bearings and began picking up speed. Cordell had iced the runners a few days before, and they were very slick. Jean-Paul jumped onto the back of the sled and let the dog have her way. His only thought was that she must not stray from the trail. The last thing he needed was to get lost with his mother’s baby coming.
Jean-Paul shouted to Lise, “Are you all right? Isn’t this fun?”
His mother turned to him and waved. “I’m fine! And you can call it fun if you want, but I’ll be glad when we get to Aklavik!”
Jean-Paul felt very grown-up. He patted his mother on the shoulder with the same affection his father always used.
“Look at her go!” he shouted. “See how strong she is! She’s the greatest little sled dog in the world!”
“Yes, she’s a wonderful husky!” Lise called back, the wind taking her words away. “Oh ... no…” She fell silent.
The sled sailed on over the well-packed sea of snow, winding around in a way familiar to Jean-Paul. Soon, they came to a long, low hill where Cordell always had to shove the sled. Jean-Paul got off the runners and pushed at the sled as Sasha struggled up the hill. From behind the sled he heard his mother cry out.
“What’s the matter?” he shouted.
Lise’s voice returned. “Nothing ... it’s ... it’s okay ... okay…”
Jean-Paul pushed harder at the sled, but instead of feeling it slide ahead, he felt he was pushing dead weight.
“Get going, Sasha!” he shouted at the top of his voice. “Come on, girl! Pull, Sasha, you can do it!”
Lise cried, “It’s no use, Jean-Paul! The hill’s too steep!”
But Jean-Paul refused to give up. “She can, Ma! I know she can!” He leaned forward and shoved hard, but the sled refused to budge. His lungs were about to explode. The blood pounded at his temples. Sweat trickled down his neck into his parka. His feet slipped out from under him on the slippery snow. Dry, powdery snow fell now, covering everything with a sparkling white cold. Jean-Paul felt his strength go, as if he were pushing at a brick wall. Finally, his breath almost gone, he raised his head and looked to the front of the lines.
“Oh, no!” he screamed. “Look at her, Ma!”
The dim light revealed the dog curled up in the middle of the trail. Sasha’s nose lay on her front paws in defeat.
Lise sat up. “What?” Then she saw. “Oh, dear God! Oh, Jean-Paul!” She slumped back against the pack. “We’ll never make it in time!” She broke off suddenly and gasped.
Jean-Paul left the back of the sled and went up front. He grabbed Sasha’s harness and tugged. “Come on!” His voice carried through the night air. “Come on, you stupid husky, get moving! Hah, Sasha, Hah!” Jean-Paul thought, If only Chinook was here!
Sasha whined and raised her head.
“You can’t stop now!” Jean-Paul tugged the harness again.
Sasha answered in small barks that sounded like, I don’t want to!
“It’s no use!” cried Lise. “The sled’s too heavy. I have to get off.”
“Sasha, get up!” Jean-Paul commanded.
But Sasha put her nose back on her paws and pretended to be asleep. Jean-Paul went back to the sled just as his mother climbed off. She reached for his arm to steady herself.
“You can’t walk up this hill!” he said. “It’s too steep. You might fall.”
“Well, what choice is there?” Lise asked with a sigh. “Sasha can’t pull the sled with me on it. She’s too tired.”
“She’s not tired,” Jean-Paul said with a glance at the dog. “She’s lazy!”
Lise began walking, slowly and carefully. She stopped to rest once or twice, leaning over and gasping with small sharp breaths. The sky was light gray now. Snow covered parka hoods and eyelashes. A pair of snowshoes would have come in handy, for snow was almost over their boots in places. Jean-Paul tried to help his mother. But she was heavy and could not stand straight. He thought what a strange pair they made, holding each other up—she with her clumsiness and he with his bad foot. Sometimes he thought they would fall together. When they reached the spot where Sasha lay peeking out of one eye, Jean-Paul scolded her. “Shame on you! What kind of husky are you? Amarok would not have stopped!”
Sasha pricked up her ears, but did not speak. Lise reached down and touched her head. “Poor doggie, she’s so tired. Come on, Jean-Paul, let’s walk ... to the top of the hill. Can’t be much farther, can it?” She moved out ahead of him, and Jean-Paul hurried to help.
“From this hill to Aklavik is still about five miles,” he said.
They were well ahead of Sasha and the sled, almost to the top of the hill. They moved slowly. Jean-Paul and his mother stopped again to rest before going on. Jean-Paul turned around and looked back to Sasha. She was standing now, watching them. Then she barked loudly three times. She whined. Her brush-tail curved over her back, wagging gently.
“You’re a lazy dog, Sasha!” Jean-Paul shouted. “You’re worthless!”
Jean-Paul was tired, too. He wanted to cry. He had promised his father he would help his mother. Now she was walking up a slippery hill with her baby ready to be born. His father would never forgive him if anything happened. And Jean-Paul would never forgive Sasha. Sadly, he turned again to help Lise.
Suddenly, from behind them came the sound of sleigh bells, and runners slishing over snow. They turned together to see Sasha pulling the sled up the hill. Her belly was low to the ground, her tail and ears down.
Jean-Paul dropped to his knees and whistled. “Good girl! Come, Sasha, come!”
Pulling the sled to the top of the hill was easier without a passenger. Sasha soon got her second wind and pulled so fast that she passed Jean-Paul and his mother. Then she stopped and waited for them to catch up. She sat down in the snow, her pink tongue hanging out.
Lise struggled with Jean-Paul to reach the sled. “If I didn’t feel so tired and miserable,” she said, “this would be funny enough to laugh ... but I can’t laugh…” Her teeth chattered. She pulled her hood closer around her face.
Jean-Paul helped her the last few feet. When they reached the sled, she sat down on the side of it. Sasha whined.
“I don’t s–see how I c–can go on,” Lise said. “How much f–farther?”
Before Jean-Paul could reply, she stiffened and groaned. He was terrified! “What can I do?” he wailed. “We’ve got to go on! It isn’t far now, Ma. And the trail’s flatter.” He reached out to touch her. But she looked so strange that he yanked his hand away. Suppose she has the baby right now! he thought in a panic. Could she have it without help?
After a while Lise sighed and lifted her feet into the sled. She lay back against the bundle, panting hard. “We have to find shelter very soon. I can’t give birth in the cold, like a mother dog has pups.” She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry to worry you so much, Jean-Paul.”
“It’s okay, Ma.”
But Jean-Paul wondered if that were true. He knew he had to work fast. Time was running out. If anything went wrong, it would be his fault. He went back to his position behind the sled.
“Please, God!” Then he yelled to Sasha, “No more fooling around now! Hah, Sasha, Hah!” He had never used a whip to make the husky go. But if he had one right now, he would be tempted to use it.
He shoved off with his good foot as Sasha began pulling the sled again.
Chapter 10
The trail ran downhill into a valley. Jean-Paul knew the sledding would be much easier. Sasha barked excitedly as she picked up speed. She had run this same trail many times and knew the way to Aklavik.
The descent into the valley was over in no time. The trail leveled out again, and Sasha
’s “second wind” kept her running. A shadow loomed suddenly in the distance. Sasha broke from the trail and ran directly toward it. At first, Jean-Paul wasn’t sure what it was. But as they came closer, he knew. He fought the husky and the sled, trying to steer them back onto the trail.
“No, Sasha, no!”
Lise sat up. “What’s the matter?”
But Jean-Paul’s mind was on the thing that lay ahead, and he seemed not to hear. “No, Sasha!” he screamed.
Then Lise saw it. “Oh! An igloo! We must stop!”
Jean-Paul was frantic. His stubborn husky was taking them directly to the haunted igloo. Old fears rose up inside of him. Tears of anger gushed down his face, perhaps to freeze there forever. “Not that one, Ma! Please, not that igloo!”
He tried once more to turn the sled, but Sasha came to a complete stop a few feet from the igloo. She turned to Jean-Paul and wagged her tail. She barked loudly and danced around in the snow. She had done her part to make up for lost time.
Lise tried to stand. “Oh, lovely Sasha! Jean-Paul, help me.”
But Jean-Paul was frozen to the spot. He did not hear as he stared through his tears at the igloo. It was larger now, more like a small hill, from all the drifted snow. Someone had built a new entrance.
“Jean-Paul ... help me…”
Jean-Paul shook his head to clear his mind. He looked with dismay at his mother. His voice shook when he spoke.
“You can’t g go in there!”
“Nonsense!” Blond hair stuck out in all directions around his mother’s face. Her eyes were feverish and wild. “It’s the answer to my prayers!”
“It’s the haunted igloo!” Jean-Paul screamed.
Lise tugged the parka closer to her throat. “There’s no such thing, Jean-Paul! I need to get inside, at once!”
“But there are torngark in there!” he whimpered. “And wolf spirits!”
The Haunted Igloo Page 10
