Ice (5 page)

“Not bad!” he said with a big smile, patting me on the shoulder like last night.

I looked at him surprised. I didn’t think it was that great since I was aiming for the center, but he seemed excited.

“Not bad at all for a first time! Try again.”

I lifted the rifle and got into place. I aimed for a few seconds and then fired once I felt confident. I was prepared this time for the kick from the gun. This time my shot was just inside the circle on the opposite side of Justin’s bullet hole.

“Alright!” Justin shouted, his smile even bigger than before. He lifted his hand as I lowered the rifle, saying, “Give me five, Girl!”

We slapped hands and I felt myself smile a little. For the first time since I had gotten here I actually felt a little excited about something. I felt a little happy, even.

He had me do it one more time so I could be more comfortable with it. I hit just inside the circle again, but this time near the top instead of the side. He seemed pleased, still wearing the big smile. He took the rifle from me and said he was going to take me out to celebrate. I felt my eyes widen, surprised, wondering where he could possibly take me.

Uncle Justin took me to the little town of
Riverton he drove to everyday for work. Forests surrounded the town, just like his house. We ate lunch at a place called “Maggie’s Diner,” where we were greeted by Maggie herself. She was a friendly plump lady with shoulder length blonde hair who seemed to know Justin. She said she hadn’t seen him for a while and that she didn’t know he had a niece. She said that I was a “pretty young thing.”

After lunch, he took me to see a friend of his who was a musher. His friend Doug was a little shorter than him and was playing with his many dogs when we drove up. Doug walked over to us and shook hands with Justin and me, looking surprised to see me. “So this is the niece I’ve heard so much about.”

I hoped it was good things he had been hearing.

“I thought I’d take you up on that offer to show her your dogs,” Justin said, looking over at the slew of Huskies watching us from behind the chain link fence.

Doug smiled and said, “Right this way.”

Doug scratched his dark beard
and led us to the large fenced-in area next to his cabin. While Doug actually went into the fenced yard, Justin and I stood outside it, listening to him throw out facts about his dogs and the races they had been in. A lot of it flew in one ear and out the other, because I couldn’t stop thinking about the black and white wolf. Some of Doug’s Huskies were solid white and some were black, but half of them were the typical combination of the two colors. At first glance, I thought all of the black and white ones looked just like the wolf I had seen in the woods, but then I realized the coloring on the faces varied. Some had black lines shooting down from their heads all the way to their noses, while on others it spread out from the nose to their eyes, and some didn’t have any black at all on their faces. A few had blue eyes like the one I had seen, others had amber and hazel eyes, while one had one blue and one brown. Doug must have caught me staring at the one with the mixed eyes.

“Heterochromia is common in Huskies,” Doug explained, now petting the brown and blue eyed one I had been watching, and sounding very smart in my opinion. I had never known what the condition was called before.

“Are Huskies part wolf?” I asked, feeling stupid for my lack of knowledge.

Doug looked a little surprised by my sudden question. “All dogs are descended from wolves, of course, but they certainly do look and act quite a bit like a wolf…” He then gave one of the dogs a hearty pet on the head. The dog opened its mouth, letting its tongue loll out as it tipped its head back. “…Just a lot nicer.”

He then ruffled the furry neck of the Husky one last time before standing up fully to continue my lesson. “Besides the similar appearance to a wolf,” he said with a grin, “they really like to howl.”

Justin chuckled and said
, “I remember when John used to howl every night. Now he’s settled down a little.”

“I know what you mean,” Doug said with a shake of his head. “I’ve got twelve howlers.”

I was a little surprised as I listened to their conversation; they talked like the dogs were their children. I had never had a pet in California so this was new to me, and struck me as a little amusing.

A few minutes later, we started saying our goodbyes and Doug told me, “Come back in October and I’ll teach you how to mush!”

I dreaded the cold, though. Right when I was getting adjusted to the cooler temperature in the summer, I realized it wouldn’t be long until winter would move in. I had heard that the summers in Alaska were short lived.

Justin looked a little worried, obviously not sharing Doug’s enthusiasm at the idea of teaching me how to race.

“Not for a while, I think,” Justin laughed as he got in his truck, but it sounded a little nervous to me. Once we were down the road, I was certain he was. He started telling me about all the dangers of mushing, how moose have attacked the mushers, even killed dogs. I told him I had no intention of racing and that I was fine letting Doug forget about his offer to teach me. Justin seemed to calm down after hearing that.

I was no longer afraid to let Big John outside, and with the mace in my pocket, I even played with him sometimes. I loved to run around with Big John on the warmer days. One day, it was even in the nineties, making me feel like Alaska wasn’t all that different than California, after all. Then there would be moments I was left breathless by the sheer amount of nature and awestruck by the beauty of it: huge, ethereal mountains and dense, green forests as far as the eye could see.

On another
wonderfully warm day, I decided to give Big John a good brushing on the front porch to help tame his shedding. While I was in the middle of brushing, he suddenly darted from his place beside me. I watched him run toward the trees, remembering what Uncle Justin said about him taking off. It was normal, and he would return. I was relieved when I saw him stop at the edge, staring into the trees. After a few seconds, he walked back over to me.

That night, and other times throughout the summer, I could hear the wolves howling from within the forest like before. I remembered hearing Big John do it one night back when I had been sick; I had thought the wolves outside would never stop howling. Since Big John hadn’t howled in so long, I hadn’t understood what Doug and Justin were talking about before. Now I did. He started waking me up after
midnight on more than one occasion. Justin would tell Big John to stop, and when that didn’t work, he would toss him a treat to distract him. This would usually work until the wolves stopped howling.

As the weeks passed, I thought less and less about the black and white “wolf” that looked like a Husky.

Just after meeting Doug and getting the 411 on Huskies, I had been especially puzzled by the appearance of the Husky-like wolf in the forest. I was more convinced it was a Husky now. The more I thought about it, though, the more confused I would become. Finally, I gave up trying to figure it out and let myself forget about it.

However, one day, I saw it again.

I was outside getting the mower out of the shed to mow the lawn again (despite Justin’s requests to leave hard work to him), when I saw it from the corner of my eye, just for a second. Just as I looked over my shoulder at the tree line, the distant black and white animal was gone.

That same night I received an instant message from Charlotte. This had become our preferred way of communication since we wouldn’t talk much on the phone. I was eager to get my mind off of the glimpse of the “Phantom Husky,” as I had secretly dubbed it.

How are you holding up?

I typed a reply on my laptop from my bed
:
Good.

Just then, Big John decided to start howling at something. I think there was a commercial on the TV he didn’t like, because I could hear Justin turning the volume down. I added
,
Big John’s singing again.

I thought he was a dog?

He is. He’s howling. That was my poor attempt at humor.

Ha, ha! I get it now! That’s funny!

She then sent another message
:
It’s almost time for school again. I’m going to miss you. ):

I’ll miss you, too, and Marcus. He’s still dating Marcia, right?

I felt nervous asking, like I was just setting myself up for a world of hurt. I couldn’t help myself, though. I had become curious recently. 

She replied
,
Yeah. He’s an idiot for dating her. He should b
e
dating you.

I quickly typed my reply, trying to steel myself.

He can date whoever he wants. That doesn’t make him an idiot.

A moment later her reply appeared.

It does when he lets her treat him like dirt. She’s manipulative and snobby. I could go on and on. I can’t believe he’s in love with that!

I heard a scratching noise then. Big John must have wanted to hide with me to get away from the thing that was bothering him on the TV. I didn’t want to clean up his wads of hair, though.

He scratched again, and I gave in, reasoning that after the brushing I had given him recently, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. I could imagine him sitting sadly on the other side of my door, waiting for me to let him in.

BR
B
, I typed before setting my laptop aside. I got up from my bed and decided I would lower the blinds on my window on my way to the door. As I turned to the window, I gasped, almost shrieking out loud.

There was the Husky I had seen in the trees earlier that day. The same icy blue eyes I rememb
ered were staring back at me. He instantly darted away from my window, out of sight.

I ran over to my door then to let Big John in.

But he wasn’t there.

I looked back toward my window, wondering if the scratching noise had come from the “Phantom Husky” that was actually very real.

The next morning, right after Justin had left for work, I walked around the house to my window. There were light claw marks on the faded siding just under my window. I then looked down at the wads of mowed grass that had been trampled by something. I couldn’t remember Big John ever hanging around my window, so the claw marks had to be from the wild Husky.

I shook my head at that thought. Huskies weren’t wild. They were a breed of dog. Maybe someone lived nearby and their dog ran away sometimes, like Big John did? That seemed much more logical of a conclusion and I decided to bring it up to Justin at dinner that night.

“Does anyone else live around here?” I asked as casually as I could over another plate of meat I forced myself to eat.

“No,” Justin said before taking a bite. After he swallowed his food, he said, “The closest anyone is to us is in town.” He then looked up at me and asked with only mild curiosity, “Why?”

I scrambled for an excuse, saying, “Well…I was curious, ‘cause, uh, I know school’s coming up and I was wondering if there were any kids my age nearby I could maybe get to know first.”

Justin totally bought it, nodding his head like it was a great idea for me to meet some of the kids I would be seeing at school. The problem was that they all lived in town. I thought about bringing up the possibility of getting a job, but the idea of driving still scared me
. I wasn’t ready for it yet. It would probably be better if I waited until after school started so that I could work on my social skills first.

Just after dinner, when I was sitting on the couch with Justin and John, the phone rang. Justin got up and looked at the caller ID before he answered. “Hey, Doug. How’re you doin’?”

Suddenly, Justin was walking off toward the hallway with the cordless phone. “There’s a
what
?!”

I immediately stood up from the couch, waiting for him to come back. He came jogging back into the living room a few seconds later with his coat on. “Okay, I’m on my way.”

He hung up and said, “That new factory is on fire and it’s spread to the forest. They’re afraid it’s going to spread to the lumber yard next.”

I started to open my mouth to say I could help, but he held a hand out to stop me, saying, “I don’t want you comin’. You stay here with Big John where it’s safe.”

I nodded and told him to be careful as he ran out the door. I guess the little town didn’t have much of a fire department if the residents felt like they had to help. I wondered how a fire like that could start, but I mainly worried about Uncle Justin.

About thirty minutes after he left, I heard the familiar scratching again. I jumped in my seat on the couch and clung to Big John, wrapping my arms around his furry neck. I stared at the front door where I heard the scratching. I just sat still, listening to the scratching continue for a couple of minutes until it finally stopped. Big John was as stiff as a board, locked on the door, as well.

A few seconds later I saw a silhouette walk past the window. My jaw dropped in horror.

It was the silhouette of a person.

But Justin had said there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else nearby….