Ice (4 page)

When we finally got to the house, I was out of breath, but I didn’t stop. I walked quickly to the shed beside the little light blue house. I pulled the door open and grabbed the big, flat, wooden sled that was standing up beside the push-mower. I vaguely wondered if Justin had made it himself as I moved. I shut the shed behind me with a kick as I turned around to head back to the forest. Uncle Justin had left a rope tied to it, so I held onto it and dragged it behind me as I ran back into the forest with Big John.

To my relief, the wounded wolf was still there, and still alive. The helpless creature’s beautiful blue eyes watched me as he laid there bleeding. I pulled the sled up to him and walked around behind him. I carefully slid my hands underneath the wild animal, praying he wouldn’t try to bite me. He didn’t and let me lift him onto the sled, which wasn’t easy; the dog was extremely heavy, being every bit as big as Big John, but I only had to move him a few inches.

I then took off my leather belt and looped it through the long rope and buckled it around Big John to work as a harness. I had no idea if Big John would make a good sled dog or not, since I was even more certain than ever that he was actually a wolf after the recent events in the forest, but I needed the extra help to pull the heavy dog back to the house. I grabbed the slack of the rope with both ha
nds and started walking. “Let’s go, boy! C’mon!”

We walked through the forest, weaving between evergreens and pines. It was hard to maneuver at times, but I followed the route I had come with the sled so I wouldn’t get stuck through any trees. I didn’t think Big John was much help. He seemed to be walking leisurely beside me while I struggled. I guess that answered my question about wolves being good sled dogs, or not.

Getting the wounded animal in the house was a bit of a problem, though. Luckily there were only two steps up to Justin’s little porch, so with a little work I was able to slide the sled up to the door. I unhooked Big John and opened the door for him to walk into the house. I followed him in and ran into the hallway, grabbing some towels out of the closet in the hall and quickly laid them out on the living room floor to set the wolf on in a few seconds. I didn’t want to get blood on Justin’s carpet.

I took off my sneakers so that I could use them to prop the front door open. I picked the wolf up with a grunt and carried him over to the towels. I gently laid him down and then kicked my sneakers out of the way so that the door would swing shut.

I darted into the bathroom in a mad rush, grabbing the first aid kit and other supplies, like the bottle of peroxide and cotton balls. As I laid it all out in front of the wolf on the towel, I realized I didn’t know what I was doing. I was just assuming it was like treating a human.

I hit my forehead in frus
tration with the hand that didn’t have blood on it. I debated calling Uncle Justin for a few seconds, but then realized I couldn’t get into the details of how I ended up with a wounded wolf in his living room. Not only did I fear the wolf might not have that much time, I couldn’t stand to tell Uncle Justin I had let his dog run away and that it had nearly been attacked by a bear because of me.

I just started pouring peroxide on a few cotton balls, deciding not to waste anymore time. I silently prayed to God that the wolf would be okay. I placed the cotton balls to the gash on the leg, causing the wolf to yelp in pain. I jumped and the wolf moved his leg back a little.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, feeling guilty for putting him through more pain, but it was the only way I knew of to keep it from getting infected. I dabbed the gash a little more, and the wolf whined loudly, like he was screaming. My hands shook each time he whined and I could feel the tears in my eyes again.

What was I doing? What if it didn’t help him any? What if I was making him suffer for nothing? I tried to ignore my fear as I wrapped the leg firmly in gauze to stop the bleeding.

I soaked more cotton balls in peroxide and then dabbed the cut on his side. He didn’t whine as much, probably because it wasn’t nearly as bad as the cut on his leg. I put a few little butterfly bandages on it and then got up to go wash my hands in the bathroom.

After I washed, I watched the water run
down the drain. The water almost looked yellow in the dim light of the bathroom. I was debating again on whether I should call Uncle Justin.

Finally, I decided I would. The wolf needed professional help. I couldn’t risk his leg because of my cowardice. The bandage was firm enough to stop the bleeding, so he would survive the fifteen minute wait for Justin to get home. If Uncle Justin hated me because of the close call with Big John, fine. I would just deal with it and ask him to send me back to
California. Maybe with some begging Aunt Suzie would take me in. I could convince her of my usefulness, that I could get a job and pay rent. There was no reason why she wouldn’t be able to afford me then. Personally, I got the gut feeling she just didn’t want to be bothered. She acted like her own children bothered her.

I walked back into the dark hallway, heading to the living room then to use the phone. I stopped walking once I reached the doorway, because the wolf was nowhere in sight. Big John was pawing desperately at the front door.

My jaw dropped as I took in the empty towels on the floor. I looked around, wondering where the wolf had gone. I ran into each room and the wolf wasn’t there. I then walked back into the living room where Big John was. He finally calmed down and walked over to the window. He stood on his back legs and planted his front paws on the window sill.

He was looking at the trees again.

I slipped my coat back on and pulled my sneakers over my feet. I ran out the front door and scanned the mounds of mowed grass for distortions that might be tracks. There was the trail from the sled and other distorted fluffs of mowed grass from where I had been, so I couldn’t be sure. I followed them to the edge of the forest, hoping it would lead me to the wolf, but he was nowhere in sight

I grabbed my head, cursing my stupidity for not calling Uncle Justin sooner, fearing for the wolf, and wondering how on earth he managed to get away. He hadn’t been able to stand up earlier, so how did he take off? Besides, it’s not like the wolf could have opened the front door and just walked away. It didn’t make any sense, and I wondered what Uncle Justin would say if I told him. Would he say I was crazy? Would he send me to another relative because he didn’t want to be bothered with a crazy teenager, or would he send me to a mental institution?

In that moment, I really did feel like I was crazy. I felt like I was going to go insane from all of the emotions that were raging through me.

Finally, I walked back into the house, defeated and frustrated. Was my life always going to be one big struggle?

“Christine?” Uncle Justin called as I heard him unlock the front door. Every day he called my name with that same note of uncertainty, like he thought I would run away while he was at the lumber yard.

I came out of my room where I had been sitting on my bed, staring at the wall for the last hour. I put a smile on my face as I walked into the living room. “How was work?” I asked, just like every day.

He smiled at me briefly before giving Big John’s neck a good ruffling. Big John was always the first to greet him, running up to him and wagging his tail.

“Aw, same ol’, same ol’. Busy, but at least it’s not boring.”

He always had an optimistic take on things. I wish I had that gift, especially right then. I was still thinking about the injured wolf that had miraculously disappeared.

Uncle Justin started telling me about some kind of factory that had recently opened in town, completely oblivious to everything that had transpired while he was gone. I had cleaned everything up, already washed and folded the towels the wolf had laid on, taken out the trash that had the bloody cotton balls, and had returned the sled to the shed. Everything was as it was before.

I headed back to my room while he took a shower. I sat on my bed, staring at the wall again, listening to the water running. Big John jumped up onto my bed and started licking my face. I realized that in my daze I had forgotten to close the door to my room. I petted him and buried my face in his thick, gray fur. I smelled the sweet vanilla and oatmeal shampoo and overwhelming honey cologne. I knew I had to explain why Big John was suddenly so fragrant, and maybe tell him not to use the honey cologne to be on the safe side. I had no idea how I would convince him to without telling him about the run in with the bear, though.

I decided to let Big John lay beside me until Uncle Justin started fixing dinner. I got up after I saw Uncle Justin in a different plaid shirt walking
through the dark hallway into the living. Big John followed me into the kitchen a few seconds later where Justin was already pouring something into a pot. He gave me a quick glance from the stove like he was surprised to see me. I usually didn’t come out of my room until he would yell that dinner was ready.

“Can I help?” I asked, trying to sound calm and casual, instead of nervous and guilty.

“Sure,” he said, sounding almost excited.

I walked over to the sink and started washing my hands. Once I had dried my hands on some paper towels, he told me what he was cooking on the stove. I peeked around him and peered into the pot. There was a medley of vegetables he was stirring. Right when I was looking forward to not having to choke down meat, he told me he had a fish in the oven. He seemed happy about this, like he was looking forward to it. I wasn’t, but I acted happy, too, saying with my best fake smile, “Yum!”

I didn’t know what was worse: a smelly fish, or a smelly cow.

Even though it felt even more awkward than usual because of the secret I was keeping, cooking with Justin was a nice change. It was good to be doing something together. I guess that would be called “bonding,” but that would probably require a conversation, which we didn’t have. We said a few words back and forth now and then, but that was it.

After we were done cooking and grace had been said, I decided to work up to confessing about the encounter with the bear. I didn’t know if I was going to tell him about the strangely colored injured wolf that disappeared from his house. I was leaning towards leaving that part out. I poked around at my fish for a bit and had nearly decided not to tell him anything when he suddenly spoke up.

“I’m glad you got out today,” he said casually, but I snapped my head up, fearing he suspected something. I just stared at him, unsure of what to say. He didn’t seem upset when we made eye contact. It was like he was asking me about the food, or the weather. “I’m just sorry it was to mow the lawn. The grass really shot up after all that rain last week. I appreciate it.”

“Uh, no problem,” I nodded awkwardly.

He gave me a little smile. He was probably hoping that meant I was getting used to the weather, or something positive like that.

I looked down at my fish and added, “I also gave Big John a bath today….”

“That’s what I smelled when I walked in,” he chimed in quickly. “I thought his fur was softer than usual.”

I glanced up for a second and nodded before returning to my fish. “I thought I would use some of that dog cologne I saw next to the shampoo. It kind of slipped out of my hands and I got too much on him. I couldn’t help but notice it’s really strong. Has it ever drawn any animals?”

I looked up nervously, but only for a second. Justin looked puzzled, like he was trying to recall any incidents.

“I can’t remember even using it before…I think it was a gift…” he said in an equally puzzled tone. “Why?”

“Well, Big John ran into the woods today, and when I found him, there was a bear…”

“Bear” was all I needed to say to get a nervous reaction out of him. His eyes instantly grew twice their size and he interrupted me again. “‘
Bear
’?!”

I nodded quickly and continued. “It’s kind of sweet, you know. Its honey scented. The shampoo was kind of sweet, too; its vanilla and oatmeal, and I had to use quite a bit of it.”

He looked down at Big John, who was walking over to him, and sniffed the air. He then looked at me again. “Are you okay?” he asked horrified. I was so relieved he wasn’t mad at me, but I hated that he was so scared.

“Oh, yeah,” I said, trying to act like it wasn’t that big of a deal, but he didn’t calm down any.

“Next time, don’t follow him into the woods,” he said seriously, like it was very important that I do what he said.

I nodded again and said, “Okay, but what about Big John?”

“Wolves know how to protect themselves.”

There was the confirmation I had been seeking, but a few hours too late. Big John seemed so harmless sitting beside Uncle Justin, letting him scratch behind his ear.

“But, what if he gets lost?”

“He’ll come back, don’t worry,” he said with such confidence. “It’s not unusual for him to chase after something from time to time.”

I felt my mouth drop open then, feeling stupid for worrying all this time.

Justin then got up from the table and said, “Let me show you something.”

I stood up awkwardly, wondering what was going on. I followed him into his room, staring into the area I had only peeked into once when he hooked up the router to his desktop computer. I had never been inside before, so I felt like it was forbidden territory, but he seemed to expect me to follow him inside.

I followed him to his closet full of sweaters and more long sleeved plaid shirts, where he pulled a long, dusty box out from the top shelf. He lowered the box between us to reveal a hunting rifle and a small box of what I assumed was ammunition for it.

“I’m gonna teach you how to use this tomorrow,” he said, making my heart race a little uneasily. I couldn’t picture myself holding that big thing. “That way you can protect yourself the next time you run into any wild animals.”

He sat the long box down on the bed and began going through the basics of how to hold it and reload it and most of all, how to always be careful when handling it. He seemed almost as worried about me using it as I was.

“But the first thing you do when you see an animal is to just stand still, don’t make eye contact. If it starts to come at you, then you shoot it. Don’t hesitate. I don’t want you to get yourself hurt trying to walk away. If you feel like you’re in danger, shoot. Better to be safe than sorry.”

He looked me in the eyes the whole time, making sure I understood. He also went over different kinds of tactics I could use when I encountered different kinds of bear if I’m not able to use the rifle for whatever reasons. This was the most Uncle Justin had ever said to me before. He then returned the box with the rifle to the closet and said he would run through all the basics again tomorrow when he would actually be demonstrating how to shoot. “I always keep it up here, so you know where to get it if you need it.”

I nodded and then he patted me on the shoulder as I started to walk out of his room. It seemed strange that talking about a gun felt more like bonding than cooking together. I felt calmer then, and actually a little safer. If I would have already known how to use the rifle I could have saved that beautiful, strange wolf from the bear. And, I probably wouldn’t have been scared of the wolves all this time given the knowledge that I could protect myself against them.

We then went back into the kitchen and finished eating dinner. I never told Uncle Justin about the black and white wolf, though. I didn’t know how to explain the wolf’s disappearance, and I didn’t want him to think I was crazy.

After the dishes and the usual ten to fifteen minute session of TV, I went to my room and started typing an e-mail to Marcus. I don’t know why I felt compelled to write to someone who wouldn’t write back. I liked to imagine that he was actually reading them, even if he couldn’t bring himself to type a reply. I also liked to think he still cared, but I had no way of knowing if he really did. I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was forgetting me.

You won’t believe what happened to me today. I saw a wolf fight a bear, and tomorrow my Uncle’s going to teach me how to shoot. It was kind of boring here, but now it’s kind of interesting. Oh, and speaking of wolves, my uncle has a wolf as a pet. (I guess there are a lot of wolves around here?) No joke.

Christine

P.S.

I’m a closet vegetarian now.
             

I grinned as I imagined him reading it. I knew Marcus so well that I could see his reaction as clearly as if I were watching him read it in person. He would grin from ear to ear in equal disbelief and amusement, exclaiming,
“No way!”

I missed seeing Marcus every weekday. Charlotte and I used to do our homework while he would shoot hoops. Well, she would be doing her homework. I would be staring at Marcus. On top of being tall and extremely muscular, he was cute and funny. He loved telling Charlotte and me embarrassing phrases in Spanish. He would tell us about how his mom didn’t like that he never seemed to take their native language seriously. He was only interested in learning the words that
shouldn’t
be said.

I sighed sadly. I missed him and Charlotte. I decided to send the e-mail anyway. I knew he wouldn’t respond, but at least he could read about my adventures in
Alaska when he’s bored.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of the front door opening. I frowned, looking at my calendar across the room from my bed. It was indeed Saturday, which was why Uncle Justin said he was going to teach me how to shoot today. So why did I hear him unlocking the front door?

I got up and opened
my bedroom door, peeking out into the hall. The door to Uncle Justin’s room was shut, as usual. He wasn’t in the dark hallway, either. I took a few steps and peeked into the living room. He was setting a small, brown paper bag on the kitchen table, whispering to a very excited Big John, “This isn’t for you. It’s for Christine.”

He then spotted me and smiled. “Good morning.”

“Good morning to you, too,” I said as I ran a hand over my head. I probably had terrible bed hair.

He grabbed the little brown bag and walked over to me. “I got you something,” he said as he handed it to me.

I opened the bag and saw a can of mace. I held it up, wondering why I had one now, in the middle of nowhere, instead of when I lived in California where there were plenty of reasons to have one.

“In case you’re in a situation without the rifle, you’ll have that.”

I looked up at Justin and almost wanted to hug him for the first time. He was really worried about me. He cared about me. “Thank you. I’ll carry it with me at all times.”

I could tell that was what he wanted to hear. He then told me with a peppy attitude that he was going to get everything set up outside while I got ready.

Soon I was walking around the corner of the house to see Justin in the backyard with the rifle in hand, stari
ng off at a large square of plywood. The target was painted in red and it was supported by a large rock behind it. He had told me to leave Big John inside so that the gunfire wouldn’t hurt his ears so much. I was fine with that because I could foresee myself missing the target. Big John had already had one brush with danger; I didn’t need to add another to the list.

First, Uncle Justin showed me how to fire. He warned me how loud it is, saying he should have bought earplugs when he bought the mace. It was incredibly loud. It was the loudest noise I had ever heard. How come guns weren’t nearly as loud on TV?

“Wow,” I said, widening my eyes.

Justin lowered the rifle and grinned at the expression on my face. He then walked me through how to do it, and once I was set, I fired. The gun had a bit of a kick, which I wasn’t prepared for, even though Justin had mentioned that, as well. My bullet didn’t land in the center circle like his, but I was close to it.