by Chris Kurtz
It was strange to see Sophia outside of the cave.
Her soft feet seemed to float above the surface of the snow.
“Where are we going?” Flora asked again.
Oscar stopped to listen and sniff the air.
“We’re trying to find the right place.” Sophia sat and chewed some ice from between her paws. “And trust me, this isn’t it!”
Oscar shook himself, sending out a spray of ice. Flora had to close her eyes as pellets bounced off her snout.
“Hey,” said Sophia. “Thanks a lot. We have enough ice falling out of the sky without your throwing more in our faces.”
“Sorry,” Oscar mumbled, and started moving.
Flora trotted behind her friend and thought again about how unusual it was to see Sophia outside, away from her blanket.
“Did you say ‘the right place’?” asked Flora. “The right place for what?”
“For you.” Oscar didn’t stop this time.
“Oh.” Flora looked around. She couldn’t see how one place in all this flat whiteness was any different from another place—or different from camp.
“You’re getting behind,” called Sophia. “Hurry up.”
Flora hustled. “Why do I need a place?”
The only answer was the hiss of sleet on snow.
She tried to puzzle it out. Oscar wouldn’t bring them out in the cold at night unless this was important. And Sophia wouldn’t be out unless ... Flora couldn’t imagine what would make Sophia take a walk on a night like this.
Oh, wait. Of course.
Oscar was sick. That was it. Oscar was too sick to pull the boat sled, and Sophia must have agreed to help prepare Flora to take his spot. Someone would have to be trained to handle the lead-dog duties. They wanted to do this away from the others, where Oscar wouldn’t be embarrassed.
Flora felt a shimmy rising up in her and quickly pushed it down. She felt like kicking and prancing, but she kept walking. This was serious business. She couldn’t let her friends know she suspected anything. They must have been working this out during her morning romps.
Maybe every sled dog, or sled puller, had to go through special training. And lead dogs probably had the toughest preparation of all. With growing excitement, Flora imagined herself in the lead position. She hoped the other dogs wouldn’t be too upset that they weren’t chosen. She’d have to be careful to appear humble and respectful of her less-qualified brothers.
Oscar looked around and gave her an encouraging nod.
Flora felt dizzy. She put her head down and concentrated on walking. She was up for this. She wouldn’t disappoint them.
Chapter 26
Finally they stopped. When Flora looked behind her, she couldn’t see the camp any longer and their tracks were being covered by sleet.
Oscar scratched around until he found a soft place in the snow. “I’ll start digging here.”
“Is this the special place?” asked Flora.
Sophia looked uncomfortable. The falling sleet made her blink. She started to say something but then began licking her front instead.
“It’s okay,” said Flora. She wanted to make this easier on her friend. “My strength has been tested before. I’ve been working up to this moment. I think I’m ready.”
Sophia looked relieved. “Good. You’re going to have to stay away from camp in this one-pig home for a few days.”
Alone? A tiny stab of fear pricked Flora’s heart. Staying in a hole reminded her of being down in the hold. This might be harder than she thought.
Oscar dug away at the hole with short, expert strokes.
“Should Oscar be digging that hard?” Flora asked.
“He’ll be fine. He’s hurrying because he’s looking forward to leaving with his team,” Sophia said. “But don’t worry. I’ll remember the way back here.”
Flora shivered inside her coat. The cold felt as if it were squeezing her brain. This didn’t make sense. An icy breeze sprang up and whisked her breath away in long white streams. She shook her head, trying to shake out the confusion.
Oscar’s head was out of sight now. Plumes of powder shot from the hole.
Flora shook her head again, this time with worry for Oscar.
“He’s sick,” she said, hoping this didn’t hurt the dog’s feelings. “I can help.”
“I’m not sick.” Breathing heavily, Oscar backed his head out of the hole, his sides heaving from the effort. “I’ll be fine. Digging is good for dogs. It’s like medicine.”
“Oscar needs to dig fast,” Sophia said, “if he wants to get back to camp before they leave.”
Flora stamped the snow. The crust broke under her feet, and she sank up to her ankles. “I don’t understand.”
Sophia went on as if Flora hadn’t spoken. “Remember, the new project is all about staying alive. Oscar’s job is to lead the rescue crew. Your job is to keep out of sight for a while.”
What kind of job was that? If this special place wasn’t for training, then what?
“Do I stink? Is that the problem?” Flora sniffed herself. Her hair smelled a little bit like dog from spending nights in the snow shelter, but that was hardly her fault.
Oscar huffed and started digging again.
Flora went on. “Everybody says pigs stink, but I have clean habits even if I don’t lick myself all the time.”
“You don’t stink,” said Sophia. “Do you think I would curl up next to you every night if you were a stinky pig? I’ll come back after the dogs have gone.”
“What? What are you talking about? Oscar, stop ignoring me.” Flora’s voice trembled now, but she didn’t care.
If he could hear her with his head inside the hole, he didn’t show it.
“Stop digging!” she shouted into the wind. She moved to stop Oscar.
Sophia stepped in front of Flora. “Oscar is saving your life,” she said. “Don’t you understand? You’re in terrible danger.”
Flora sat down with a thump in the snow. “I’m in danger?”
Oscar backed up and out of the hole to catch his breath.
Flora continued, “I don’t need a special place. For a sled pig, having an adventure is like medicine.”
Sophia gave her a pitying look. “They didn’t bring you along to be a sled pig.”
“They didn’t?” Flora looked at Oscar.
“Nope.” He shook his head.
“If you’re saying that because you’re sick, and you’re afraid I’ll take over your lead-dog spot...”
Flora faltered and then went on. “You should know you don’t have to worry. I won’t.”
Oscar turned back to the hole. “I’ll clean out the last little bit. It’s almost ready.”
Flora jumped up. “Why won’t someone just say what’s going on?”
“Calm down,” said Sophia. “He’s digging you a hiding place. A new home for a little while until the danger is past.”
“But I want us to face the danger together. Like a team.”
Sophia glared at Flora. “I don’t need a team, remember? And I’m cold and wet. This business of trying to keep others safe is starting to put my whiskers in a knot.”
Flora paced in an angry circle, churning up the ice and snow under her feet. She paid no attention to the sharp edges nicking her legs. It was just like Sophia to forget how she had needed help with the rats.
“I haven’t been any trouble.” Flora stopped pacing. “Wait a minute. Are you two trying to get rid of me?”
Oscar cleared his throat as if he wanted to say something but panted instead.
Yes, she understood now. “You’re afraid of me, both of you. You know I’m strong, and you think I’ll take all the credit. Well, I can see through your plan, and I have another plan. Goodbye!”
Flora marched off with her head high in the air. Oscar’s voice floated through the wind to her. “Where are you going?”
“Back to camp,” Flora answered without turning around. Then she realized she had no idea which directio
n camp was. She stopped and cast her head back and forth, trying to remember. Nothing was familiar, and everything was familiar. All the land looked the same—just plain white.
She turned and walked back to the dog and cat, who were still watching her. “I decided to give you a chance to follow me.”
Sophia’s tail swished impatiently in the snow. “A sled dog would never lose his way back home.”
Flora looked at Oscar, who blinked and shifted his feet.
“A sled dog has an unfailing sense of direction,” said Sophia. “He has broad shoulders for pulling, and he has big, padded feet, which don’t break through the crust.”
Flora looked at the ground where her hooves had chopped up the snow and ice. She felt miserable, lost, and terribly lonely, even though she was not yet alone. “Let’s pretend you’re right for a minute. Why would they have brought me along if it wasn’t to be a sled pig?”
Sophia shook snow off her shoulder. “I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you would figure it out for yourself.”
Figure it out.
The wind seemed to stop for a moment, and silence filled Flora’s ears.
“Food,” said Sophia.
Chapter 27
Flora’s head felt light. She felt sick and wanted to lie down. She sat with a thud.
Oscar sighed. “Pulling is for dogs.”
“Do you think Amos likes you because of your personality? Think about it,” said Sophia. “They want you on their adventure, all right. But not for the reason you think.”
“No,” Flora whispered. But the signs were all there. She had a purpose on this expedition, and it had nothing to do with how smart she was or how brave or strong.
She was food.
Oscar turned and sniffed at the hole he had finished. He gave the piled snow at the entrance a swipe. “I think it’s big enough now.”
Flora stood up and backed into it. Her ears were ringing, and she barely noticed when her friends said goodbye. Sophia stopped once and looked back, but it had begun to snow and they were soon out of sight.
Flora slid in deeper and curled up. She found that her back legs could tuck inside the bottom of her coat. Her hole was warm as could be.
She shivered anyway.
The snowflakes slowly filled in the opening as if filling in a grave.
Chapter 28
For two snowy days Flora lay in her little cave. When she got thirsty, she ate snow. When she got hungry, she struggled up through the powder and walked around until the feeling eased, being careful never to lose sight of her frozen home.
Cold white emptiness was everywhere, and it pulled the hope from her heart.
Don’t ... give ... up.
This time the words didn’t work.
Flora tried to find a memory from her piglet days on the farm—a thought or a picture that could be a source of warmth to melt the ice in her mind.
Luna. Flora worked hard to remember everything about her old friend—her face, the way she held her tail, the color of her fur, the sound of her voice—and a warm light came. Flora could almost hear their conversations about dogs and stars and even the ocean. Luna seemed to know so much about life...
Flora’s thoughts froze. She tried not to think. Yet she couldn’t stop the truth from crowding in.
Luna knew all that time how Flora would end up.
I’m a fool. A big, fat fool. Well, not fat, really. At least not anymore.
This was a cruel world she had been born into, all pink and squirming. She’d never wanted to see reality. Now, like the cold, it was impossible to ignore.
She curled into a tight ball.
At the end of two days, Flora had to fight a growing feeling of panic.
By now Oscar would be off with the dog team. And she was sure Sophia had tried to figure out the way back to her and couldn’t.
Her thoughts turned darker.
Perhaps she had been left here to die. Probably her friends had chosen this fate for her—starvation versus the knife. Flora wasn’t sure which she would have chosen, but she didn’t like someone else choosing for her.
Then she thought she heard Sophia calling her name. It sounded like a voice from a dream. Flora wanted to jump up and shake off her snow hole like a dirty blanket. She wanted to race out and be found.
But things were different now. She was food. She had to be looked after, protected like a baby. She was a burden, not a team member.
She pushed her head through her thin roof. Oscar was there. He was sniffing around in circles. Sophia was sitting and calling.
When Oscar saw her, he came running up and licked her chin. Sophia ran a few steps too, but then, catching herself, slowed to a dignified walk.
Flora stumbled out on legs that felt stiff and wooden. She nosed the cat in the ribs. She had to admit she was delighted to see her friends again. But she didn’t want to be delighted.
“I see you’re still alive.” Sophia gave in to acting like a kitten and batted Flora’s cheek with a paw.
“It wasn’t too bad.” This huge lie was the only thing Flora could think to say.
“We would have come back sooner if it was possible,” said Sophia. “It’s safe now. Amos is gone.” Flora changed the subject. “What are you still doing here, Oscar? I thought you would be out pulling.”
Oscar looked to the horizon and didn’t answer.
“They wouldn’t take him,” Sophia said softly. “He tried. He stood in the lead spot when it was time to get in the harness, but they wouldn’t hook him up. Smart if you ask me. He’s not well.”
“Pulling is like medicine,” said Oscar. “You wouldn’t understand.”
Flora winced. Poor Oscar.
“He was almost as upset as Aleric,” said Sophia. “They both got left behind.”
As Oscar led them back to camp, Sophia continued on about how Amos had screamed and waved his knives at everyone until the whole camp was out searching for Flora, and how he had tried to use the dogs to track his escaped pig.
“Oscar thought ahead, though.” Sophia glanced at Oscar. “He dragged the search team in one wrong direction after another. Of course they never even got close to your hiding place.”
Flora wanted to smile. She wanted to dance around and laugh at the image of Big Amos thundering about in the wrong places. But she felt empty—hollowed out.
“They finally had to give up,” Sophia said. “Amos and the other men finished loading and hooked up the dogs. Off they went to get help. Only the captain and the sailor with the broken leg stayed behind with Aleric.”
“Why didn’t they take the captain?” asked Flora.
“Too sick to travel.” Oscar looked back at them to answer. “And weight. Sled dogs are strong, but every pound counts. There weren’t enough of us ... of them to do the job. I could have pulled, though. They needed me. Pulling is like medicine for a sled dog.” He hung his head.
“You said that already,” said Sophia.
“Well, it’s true.”
Sophia caught Flora’s eye and shook her head.
Twice on the walk back, Flora noticed Oscar breathing extra hard. Something rattled in his throat whenever he got winded. Sophia would pretend to be tired and need a rest, and they would all stop until Oscar looked able to go on.
It was during the stops that Flora noticed how hungry she was—hungry enough to eat a boot, laces and all.
“Where were the men and dogs going?” she asked. “Did they change their minds and head for the food station?”
“No, they’re going north,” said Oscar. “Anywhere there might be people. They’ll put to sea when they find a good place. If they can find help, they’ll come back the same way, I expect. If they don’t find help...”
Flora knew how that sentence ended.
If they came back without finding help, they’d think again about killing the pig.
Chapter 29
Aleric was the only one outside when they came into camp.
“Hey, the pig is ba
ck!” he called.
A limping sailor hobbling on a wooden stick came to the door of the snow cabin. Flora didn’t like the way he looked at her.
She would be keeping far away from that one.
Aleric put out three small frozen fish that Flora attacked. She looked up to see Sophia and Oscar watching. She felt a little ashamed but still couldn’t help licking the snow where the fish had been. It was her first meal in three days, and she felt almost as hungry as before.
Aleric scratched her behind the ears. “I wish I could give you more.” His fingers moved under her chin. “I never met an animal with better timing than you when it comes to killing rats and not getting killed yourself. You are one smart pig. Now we all need to figure out how you and the rest of us can stay alive until they come back.”
Flora glanced at the sailor with the stick.
Men and animals all slept in the snow shelter together now. The nights were getting colder. The snow shelter was smaller and kept the warmth better than the drafty cabin with a lifeboat as the roof. Most of the boxes were gone, along with the other dogs, so there was plenty of room.
Aleric had made beds for the men by layering several blankets for padding. The captain spent all his time in his bed, for he was still weak and spoke very little. Flora decided she’d curl up against him at night to keep him warm. It was an easy job.
Flora’s knowledge about her role on the expedition was not the only thing that had changed during her time in the hole. She didn’t feel the cold as she had before either. After those two days on her own, her body was able to handle the freezing temperatures. She could now stand being outside for several hours each day. She still kept up her trot around the camp—partly out of habit and partly so she’d be fit to run if the sailor ever got close.
But the biggest change in Flora was that she no longer dreamed of dogsledding. She dreamed only about food. She was always hungry.