Sled Dog School

by Terry Lynn Johnson

  “Yeah. They don’t believe in it.”

  “Really? Cool!” Tubbs reached around Matt and grabbed the door handle. “Why not?”

  “They used to live in Detroit and decided to go back to nature when they were about to have me. They wanted to live closer to the land or something, so they moved here. Anyway, we don’t have running water, so there’s no bathroom in here.”

  That stopped Tubbs. “Where is it?”

  Matt reluctantly pointed to the outdoor path leading toward the outhouse, which his dad called the Throne Room. Tubbs peered at the trail but then turned back to the house. Matt quickly tried to think of a way to avoid having Tubbs meet his parents.

  Even quicker, Tubbs pulled open the door and stepped in. “Hi!” he called.

  Dad peeked his head around a corner and smiled, wiping his hands. He was wearing his bright yellow clogs.

  “Hello there!” he said in his loud, normal tone. If Tubbs thought he was being yelled at, he didn’t show it. “I’m Matt’s dad. You can call me Tom. Who might you be?”

  “I’m Tubbs!” Tubbs matched Dad’s big voice. “Me and Flute are taking the lessons! That’s my dog. We live in town. Holy smoley, it smells good in here!”

  Matt stared at Tubbs. He hadn’t met anyone besides his parents who was so . . . well, unquiet.

  “Ah, yes. I spoke with your mom on the phone. Fantastic. Would you like to join us for breakfast? I’ve just made muffins.”

  “Sure!”

  Matt sighed.

  “Matt, show him around while I set another plate.”

  Dad disappeared into the kitchen, and Matt could do nothing but trail after Tubbs, who was already halfway through the living room. He pointed to the lamps on the wall and turned to Matt questioningly.

  “Propane,” Matt said.

  Tubbs grinned as if this was the best game in the world. He scooted through the living room, paused to hold his hands toward the wood stove, smiled, and then skipped into the wood room. “If you guys live off the grid, why do you have a phone?” he asked.

  “Both my parents work. Everyone needs a phone for work. It’s also for emergencies.”

  Tubbs nodded, glanced around, poked at a string of dog booties hanging from the clothesline, and then spotted one of Matt’s earlier wood carvings.

  “Whoa! Is this a beaver?”

  “That’s an otter. My mom loves them. I made it for her, but I’ve made better otters since this one.”

  “You made this?” Tubbs said, incredulous as he ran his hands over the smooth surface. “It looks totally real.”

  “Except for the part where you thought it was a beaver.”

  Tubbs grinned and then continued to the kitchen. Matt’s mom appeared, dressed for her meeting.

  “Well, hello, young man!” She put her hands on her hips and did a quick two-step dance. She ended with her arms open toward Tubbs in a challenge that Matt wasn’t sure Tubbs would recognize. Matt cringed, but Tubbs put his hands on his own hips and shuffled his feet in imitation.

  Matt stared in shock.

  Mom clapped and hooted.

  Lily suddenly slammed the door open with her arms full of puppies. The pups were getting more active as they grew older. Once she dumped them onto the floor, they shuffled toward Matt like a herd of manatees.

  “I’ve got to go,” Mom said, checking her watch. “You two have fun!”

  She opened her arms for Matt to give her a hug. Normally he let his mom be affectionate with him, but right now a hug was the last thing he wanted to do in front of Tubbs.

  And just when Matt thought things couldn’t get any weirder, Tubbs hugged her instead. There was a moment of surprise on her face before she wrapped her arms around him and laughed.

  “Breakfast is served!” Dad called from the dining room.

  Mom slipped out as Matt and Tubbs moved to the table. As soon as Tubbs sat down, he grabbed a steaming muffin. He pointed to the bottle of milk on the table as he chewed. “What are those layers?”

  “We use powdered milk here. It separates when it’s been sitting. It just needs to be mixed,” Dad explained, shaking the bottle and pouring some into a glass.

  And they drink curdled milk, Jacob’s voice was clear in Matt’s mind. It’s all chunky and they just stir it and drink it. So gross! Watch out—he’s gonna spew chunky milk at you!

  Tubbs shrugged and downed it. “I love milk,” he said.

  “Well, we’re wasting daylight here,” Matt said, after draining his own glass. “I’ve got lessons to get through, Dad. Tubbs, I thought you had to go?” Matt gave him a look.

  “Oh yeah!” Tubbs stuffed the rest of his muffin into his mouth and waved at Dad as he made for the door. He stopped when he noticed the puppy pile at Lily’s feet and bent toward them, but Matt pulled him away.

  Tubbs cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Thanks for breakfast, Matt’s Dad. I like it here!”

  “And we like having you! You come tell me afterward what you learned. Matt, you can find me in the kiln shed. I’m firing today. And take your sister!”

  Once they were outside, Tubbs asked in amazement, “Your parents just let you take the dogs out on your own?”

  “Sure. They like me doing things on my own. They say they’re life lessons. It’s called ‘free-range kids.’ I’m learning about what my skills are.”

  “I like your parents a lot. I wish I lived like you.”

  Hearing Tubbs say that did something to Matt’s insides. He felt a weird protective pride for his family. To hide his smile, he said, “Are you ready to learn some dogsledding or what?”

  “Well, I still have to go.”

  Matt pointed to the outhouse trail, certain Tubbs would take back wishing he lived like Matt’s family. But Tubbs laughed, shook his head, and scuttled down the path. When he opened the door and stepped inside, he yelled, “Two holes? There are two holes in here!”

  “So? You don’t have to use both of them. Just pick one.”

  Tubbs stuck his head out the door. “Why are there two? Is it for, like, emergencies, when you really have to go but someone is already in here, or do you go with your dad or something?”

  “Gross! No!”

  “Well?”

  “’Cause the pile freezes and gets too high, so one hole isn’t enough for four people.” Matt’s face burned. Why did Tubbs ask so many questions?

  Tubbs returned after a minute looking as if the whole outhouse experience was the best thing ever.

  “Are you ready now?”

  “How about we just take the dogs for a walk? You know, for the first lesson. Flute would like that. If you can train him to walk on a leash, that would be great.”

  “What?” Matt finally realized Tubbs had been stalling. “I thought you wanted to dogsled?”

  “My mom wants me to learn dogsledding. Translation: she wants me to get skinny.” A dark expression crossed Tubbs’s face for the first time. “I don’t like running.”

  “Oh. Well, we don’t have to do much running. Mostly the dogs do that.”

  “And she hates Flute,” Tubbs rushed on. “She keeps saying he’s going to the pound if he doesn’t behave. But how can you hate him? He’s so funny and smart! So I was hoping you could train him to behave. He’s a good dog, really.” Tubbs’s eyes pleaded with Matt.

  Now Matt understood why Tubbs had signed up. Matt’s hopes for his math assignment crashed down around him. Tubbs would never pass a dogsledding test if he didn’t even want to be there. Matt regretted what he had written at the bottom of his ad poster:

  Success or your money back. Guaranteed!

  He’d thought that was a clever marketing idea. But what if he ended up having to return Tubbs’s ten dollars per week?

  And what would that mean for his business if his clients didn’t actually learn dogsledding? Matt kicked a hole in the snow. He still needed more clients, and he needed this one to count. Tubbs stood watching him. He looked nervous.

  “Okay,” Matt f
inally said. “I think we can help each other.”

  Tubbs hopped and clapped. “Listening.”

  “I need three clients to complete this school assignment. If I don’t get a great grade on it, I’m going to fail my class. But I don’t know anyone else who’ll come. If you can help me get two more clients, I’ll help with your dog.” After knowing Flute for an hour, Matt wasn’t at all sure he could train him, but he tried to keep that out of his expression.

  “Should be easy enough, then. You have yourself a deal.” Tubbs held out his mitten and they shook on it.

  Five

  “We’re taking the dogs for a run today,” Matt announced when Tubbs arrived the next day. Tubbs shoved Flute inside the pen and closed the door. Matt didn’t know how Tubbs managed to stay on his feet and not rip his tight ski pants as the dog dragged him everywhere.

  “Shouldn’t we go up and tell your parents where we’re going?” Tubbs shuffled toward the house, not waiting for Matt’s answer.

  Matt chased him. “No snack, though. We don’t have time.”

  “Tubbs!” Dad yelled when they walked in. “Back for more learning?”

  Matt’s mom smiled. “Whatcha seen, jellybeans?”

  “Um . . . a harness?” Tubbs said.

  Matt was impressed Tubbs remembered that from yesterday’s lesson. This is a dog harness. That was about all they’d had time for before Tubbs’s mom came to get him. Today Matt was determined to go running.

  “Ah! Aren’t you clever?” Mom said. She loved when kids got her game and played along.

  The way Tubbs planted his hands on his hips, it seemed as if he planned on staying inside for the day.

  Dad stood tall, his wiry red hair making him look even taller. He appraised Tubbs critically. “I think you could use some musher clothes. Would you like to borrow these coveralls?”

  “They’re too long, Dad,” Matt said.

  “I think we can make do.” Dad helped Tubbs into the thick insulated coveralls and rolled up the cuffs twice in two bulky rolls at his ankles. Then Dad picked out a bright scarf and wound it around Tubbs’s neck.

  “Did you make this?” Tubbs asked Mom, running the scarf through his fingers. “My mom doesn’t make things.”

  “I did,” Dad said, stuffing one end of the scarf down the open neck of Tubbs’s coveralls. He looked pleased that Tubbs had noticed the scarf was handmade.

  A pair of large mitts with braided strings attached were thrown over Tubbs’s head and twisted behind his back as if Tubbs were an actual musher. “These are for putting on over your gloves if your hands get cold,” Dad explained. “They’re attached to you so you can whip them off quickly when you need the dexterity of your fingers, and you won’t lose them in the snow. You keep them behind your back like this till you need them, yeah?”

  Dad finished the look by pulling an earflap hat snugly onto Tubbs’s head. The earflaps stuck straight out like airplane wings. When Dad held up a pair of goggles, Matt shook his head at him, and he dropped them with a sigh.

  Tubbs inspected the ridiculously large outfit, then struck a pose as if he were on the back of a sled. “Mush, you dogs!” He beamed and did the little dance that Matt’s mom had taught him.

  “Mushers don’t say ‘mush,’” Matt said, just to get him to stop dancing.

  “But they knit! I want to learn to knit.”

  Matt pushed Tubbs out the door. “See you later, Dad. Tubbs is going to learn to scoop poop.”

  Tubbs stopped in his tracks. “What?”

  “First thing you need to learn about dogsledding is what the most important thing is—the dogs. The yard has to be kept clean. Once you take care of that, we’re hitting the trail!”

  “What about Flute?”

  “He’ll be okay in the pen for another day. I’ll start his training next time.” Matt couldn’t wait to show Tubbs how the dogs could run. Tubbs was going to love it. He just needed to see what he’d been missing and then he wouldn’t want to be inside all the time.

  Plus, Matt needed to start actual lessons so Tubbs could pass the test Mr. Moffat had asked about—though Matt still wasn’t sure what a dogsledding test would be.

  As they cleaned the yard, Tubbs talked nonstop about his new comfy coveralls, and how he thought he might have to go visit the outhouse again but this time he would use the other hole, and how he had read last night about alternative power sources, such as using a potato to light a bulb, and wouldn’t that be a fun project to try today. Matt reminded him that what they were doing today involved sled dogs and not potatoes.

  Tubbs’s new earflap hat suddenly went missing, so they had to spend time looking for it. Once they found the hat stashed inside Foo’s doghouse, Matt pulled out two sleds and slid them over to the hookup tree in front of the trail. The dogs broke into high-pitched whines and eager screams. Matt smiled and glanced over at Tubbs, but Tubbs was looking as though his breakfast didn’t agree with him.

  Lily ran out of the house with a slam of the door, her boots pounding over the bridge toward them. “Don’t forget me!”

  “I’ll take the team in front,” Matt said to Tubbs. “You can follow and watch what I do. Easy!”

  “Okay.” Tubbs had become subdued for once.

  Matt laid out the gang lines and attached the snow hooks, setting them in their carriers at the back of each sled. Then he explained where Tubbs should position his feet. “You just stand on the runners like this. It’s like skiing. See? Not much running.”

  Tubbs nodded, which Matt assumed meant he understood and was ready to go. Matt sprinted into the barn to grab a bundle of dog harnesses. They were made from different colored webbing and had plush fleece padding on the shoulders. They gave off a bouquet of dog odors.

  “Lily, you stay here and help harness. Tubbs and I will get the dogs.” Matt handed Tubbs a leash before heading for the yard. The dogs exploded into action. Racing around in circles, they barked and screamed. Matt grabbed his usual leaders and decided to try Fester and Tonka for Tubbs. They were fast young dogs who loved to chase.

  “This is going to be so fun,” Matt said. “I’m only allowed to take out four dogs on a team when my parents aren’t with me. When everyone in my family goes, we take three teams of six dogs.”

  “You all go out together?”

  “Yeah. Sometimes we go out to the base camp and spend the night with the dogs.”

  Tubbs stared at him. “You camp with your whole family?”

  Matt shrugged. It had never occurred to him to question what they did as a family. “It’s just what we do. My parents keep the dogs for recreation. The dogs love running, so we take them out as often as we can. But Dad just got a new contract for his pottery, and Mom’s busy at work. Since they’re not coming, we’ll stick with four dogs per team.”

  He thought he should teach Tubbs how to harness the dogs first, but Matt was too anxious to get started. Plus, the dogs were crazed right now. It would take too long to teach Tubbs.

  Matt quickly harnessed the teams himself. The noise level increased as each new dog was added. The dogs clawed at the ground. They spewed foam from their mouths. The dogs who weren’t picked screamed their frustration from the yard.

  The entire hookup scene was chaos. The air vibrated with the energy pulsing off the dogs. It made Matt jumpy and nervous and excited all at once. He wanted to show Tubbs how much fun sled dogs were. This was the first time he’d gone out with anyone who didn’t already know how. Matt’s Sled Dog School was about to get real.

  Six

  Matt jumped onto the runners of Tubbs’s sled for a quick demonstration. He figured Tubbs would learn by running a team behind Matt and just watching what he did.

  Matt yelled over the noise of the dogs. “Hang on to the handlebar like this.” He gripped the wood with both hands.

  “Here’s your brake.” He stepped onto the hinged metal bar at the base of the sled. It pivoted down so the metal teeth dug into the snow. Matt lifted his foot and the brake sprung back
.

  “Or you can use this.” He stepped onto a rectangular section of rubber tire hanging between the runners of the sled. “It’s called a drag. Once you slow the dogs down, you use the snow hook.”

  He lifted a heavy metal snow hook out of its plastic cradle by the handle and showed Tubbs the two sharp points. “It’s your parking brake. You stomp it into the snow like this.” Matt demonstrated.

  “The more the dogs pull,” Matt continued, eager to get going, “the more the hook digs into the snow. It keeps the team stopped. But not for long. You have to watch they don’t pop it out.” Matt pulled the hook and replaced it.

  “Or sometimes none of these work when the dogs really want to go.” He grinned. “You can also try yelling, ‘Whoa,’ but they won’t listen. Got it?”

  Tubbs’s eyes darted from the barking dogs to Matt, back to the dogs, then to the snow hook. “Okay.”

  Matt rushed to his sled and then turned around. “And whatever you do”—he yelled to be heard over the dogs’ frantic cries—"don’t let go! That’s the number one rule!”

  Matt’s skin prickled with nervous energy. He always got butterflies before a run, but today was worse because Tubbs was there. He hoped the trail was hard and the dogs ran fast. He wanted to show Tubbs he was good at this.

  Matt waited for Lily to jump into his sled, and then he yanked the snub line attaching them to the hookup tree. The dogs stopped barking immediately, turning their attention to pulling. The sled hurtled forward like a cannonball. Matt glanced over his shoulder to make sure Tubbs followed.

  But Tubbs was still staring at the dogs in his team, who were going completely wild with the need to chase.

  “Pull the line!” Matt yelled at him. He held up the snub line on his own sled to remind Tubbs what to do.

  Tubbs hesitantly reached down and pulled.

  The dogs shot ahead and Tubbs barely grabbed the handlebar in time before he was thrown backwards. He didn’t let go, but he was off balance.

  Matt had most of his weight on the brake. Even so, with all their pent-up energy, his team wouldn’t stop—they’d just started.