The Haunted Igloo

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The Haunted Igloo Page 8

by Bonnie Turner


  Cordell hung his head. And Lise laid a small, soft hand on his big one.

  “Dear Cordell, you must not blame yourself. I’m a hardy soul. And somewhere deep inside, a part of me wanted the challenge of this sort of life. We’ll make it through the year ... and the next, if need be.” Then she smiled. “A new baby on the way was a definite surprise, wasn’t it? It was something neither of us considered.”

  “Some surprises are nice,” Cordell said.

  Lise kept bathing her son’s hot cheeks.

  Sometimes Jean-Paul didn’t know his parents at all, but pushed them away with his hands and moaned about the torngark. Once he screamed, a long, bloodcurdling scream.

  “Torngark! What is that word?” Lise asked Cordell. “Have you heard it? What can it mean? Jean-Paul’s terrified.”

  Cordell shook his head. “Beats me.”

  He left the room and returned with a small book. “I’ve looked in the language guide the missionaries gave me. But that word isn’t here.”

  The next day Jean-Paul’s fever was lower. The wind had risen again during the night. Cordell didn’t want to risk taking Jean-Paul out. “If the fever isn’t completely gone by morning, I’ll try to get him to the hospital.”

  That afternoon, Cordell opened the door to find Chinook and another boy. In Chinook’s hand was a small, brown package. Cordell invited them in and Chinook bent down and scratched Sasha’s ear as she came to sniff.

  “She’s a nice husky,” he said to Cordell. “Jean-Paul’s a lucky boy.”

  Cordell grinned. “Yes, he’s a lucky boy in more ways than one.” He looked at the other boy. “Have we met?”

  “Oh,” said Chinook quickly, “and this is Nanuk. He goes to school with Jean-Paul and me.” Cordell shook Nanuk’s hand.

  “We came to see Jean-Paul, Monsieur Ardoin. Do you think he will see us? Is he better?”

  “Jean-Paul’s a very sick boy. He has a fever.” Cordell stopped as Chinook and Nanuk exchanged worried glances. “But he’s going to be fine. He’s asleep right now. Maybe you should come back in a day or so. I’ll tell him you came by.”

  Nanuk’s dark eyes darted around the room. Chinook was nervous, too. He kept glancing up at Cordell, then back down.

  “We came to say we’re sorry,” Chinook said at last. “My father, Taguk, he gave me a long talk.” Then Chinook’s face brightened. “I brought something for Jean-Paul.”

  Cordell took the package Chinook held out. “Eh? What is this?” He turned the package over in his hands.

  “If Jean-Paul’s too sick to open it, then it’s all right for you to do it,” said Chinook with a big grin.

  Cordell opened the package and removed a small white object. He studied it closely. “Why, it’s a polar bear! Jean-Paul will like this for sure.”

  Chinook was pleased, beaming from ear to ear. “My old grandfather, Kiakshuk, taught me to carve a walrus tusk,” he said proudly. “It was hard work to cut out nanuk—polar bear.” He glanced at his friend, Nanuk, and Nanuk smiled bashfully because his name meant polar bear.

  Cordell examined every inch of the ivory statue. “Yes,” he agreed, “it certainly looks as though it took a lot of time and skill. I’ll thank you for Jean-Paul. When he’s well, he’ll say nakomik!”

  Nanuk grinned and whispered to Chinook, “Jean-Paul’s father would make a good Inuit!”

  “A good Eskimo!” Chinook said, with a laugh. Cordell laughed, too.

  “By the way,” said Cordell, “maybe you boys can tell me what torngark means. Jean-Paul keeps mumbling about torngark.” He looked hopefully from one boy to the other.

  Nanuk’s smile vanished. He looked sideways at Chinook. Chinook glanced sideways at Nanuk in return. Then Chinook spoke, seeing that Nanuk wouldn’t. “Torngark means evil spirit.”

  “So!” said Cordell, raising his heavy, dark brows.

  “Jean-Paul had a very bad time in the igloo! Did you know he’s afraid of the dark?” He could have bitten his tongue. Jean-Paul wouldn’t like for him to say he was afraid of anything.

  The boys looked at each other. They turned, ready to leave. Neither of them said anything to Cordell.

  “Thanks for coming.” Cordell’s words were met with silence.

  Chinook looked beyond Cordell to the bedroom door, his face suddenly startled. Cordell turned to see his wife standing in the doorway.

  He motioned to her. “Come see what Chinook and Nanuk brought Jean-Paul.” But Lise turned away and went back to her son’s room.

  Cordell looked at the bear in his hand. “Well, I’ll give this to Jean-Paul, Chinook. I think he’ll be glad to have it.” He then shook hands with both boys.

  The savage arctic wind burst into the room as he opened the door to let them out. He watched the darkness swallow them up, then turned and went to Jean-Paul’s room. Lise looked up as he entered, but said nothing as she washed Jean-Paul’s hot, red face with a cool cloth. Cordell held out the carving. She glanced at it, then turned her head away.

  “A polar bear,” she said grimly, “to remind poor Jean-Paul of his ordeal in that terrible igloo in this terrible country. Just what he needs!”

  A heavy silence hung between the two. Finally, Cordell placed the statue on Jean-Paul’s table, where he could see it when his fever was gone.

  Chapter 7

  Jean-Paul’s health improved day by day. His temperature fell to normal. His nose, cheeks, and lips lost their raw, blistery look. His hunger returned, also. He had lost weight while he was sick, but as days passed, his body filled out until it was once more Jean-Paul-size.

  Jean-Paul’s mother was happier, too. “It’s as if we are raising nine boys,” she told Cordell, “instead of one. If Jean-Paul keeps eating this way, we won’t have enough food to last till spring.”

  His father agreed. “Poking food into his mouth is the only thing Jean-Paul remembers how to do!”

  But there was one thing Jean-Paul would not or could not do: he no longer spoke to anyone. And, by not talking, of course, he couldn’t go to school.

  “He’s had a great shock,” said Lise, feeling pity for Jean-Paul. “As you said before, he’ll talk when he’s ready.”

  This time Cordell didn’t agree. “It’s time he faced his lessons and his schoolmates! Does he expect Father Cortier to come here?”

  Jean-Paul spent too much time with his own thoughts. But no one knew how he felt. No one knew what was in his heart and mind. No one knew how his stomach twisted and squirmed at the thought of facing Chinook and Aiverk and Nanuk. He thought Sasha was the only one who accepted his silence and returned it with her own quiet love.

  The first thing Jean-Paul did when he saw Chinook’s carving of the polar bear was to hurl it across the room. But he wasn’t angry with Chinook. It was only that he was deeply ashamed for having proven to the boys what they had known all along: Jean-Paul Ardoin was nothing but a big sissy. He had come out of the igloo before the time was up, and had then been dumb enough to get lost in a snowstorm. But what hurt the most was how close he had come to having Chinook for a friend. Every time he saw that polar bear, he would be reminded of that.

  Chinook came often to visit, to the point of being a pest. But Jean-Paul was stubborn and wouldn’t leave his room. How could he be sure that Chinook wouldn’t make fun of him if given a chance? In the meantime, he watched through a crack in the door as Chinook visited with Jean-Paul’s parents and petted Jean-Paul’s dog. Whenever they could, Chinook and the other boys brought Jean-Paul’s homework and “cheers” from Father Cortier and the rest of the children. Jean-Paul did not thank them, although he worked the lessons silently after they left.

  “Jean-Paul’s acting like a spoiled brat!” said Cordell. “After Christmas he’s going back to school whether he likes it or not.”

  “He’ll cheer up when it gets light again,” said Lise with a sigh.

  Chinook came to visit a few days before Christmas.

  “Jean-Paul’s not seeing boys named ‘Chinook’ the
se days,” Cordell said. “But I’ll tell you what. After Christmas maybe he’ll let you help train the pup to pull a sled.”

  “I’d like that,” Chinook said, his face lighting up again. Chinook’s dark eyes smiled when his mouth did, crinkling at the corners. “I’m making something special for Jean-Paul’s Christmas, Monsieur Ardoin.”

  “And so am I!” said Cordell.

  ____________

  Christmas morning the Ardoin cabin held a wonderful scent of evergreen from a tree Cordell had cut at the bank of the Mackenzie River. Decorated with stars and bells cut from old wrapping paper and several large jingle bells from old dog harnesses, the tree held an honorable position in the center of the large room.

  Beneath the tree lay a special package for Jean-Paul. He looked at the tag, then frowned. And for the first time since the blizzard, he spoke. “A—a present from Chinook?”

  His parents looked at each other in surprise. Their son had opened his mouth for something besides biscuits, stew, or cakes.

  “Wasn’t that nice of Chinook?” asked Cordell. “Are you going to open it?”

  Jean-Paul looked at the package for a long time. He ran his hands over the paper, turning it every which way, staring at it. There came a tinkling sound from inside. He slowly removed the bright ribbon and wrapping, which Chinook must have bought at the Hudson’s Bay post.

  “What’s this?” His eyes shone with excitement. “A harness! Pa! Ma! Look! Chinook gave me a harness for Sasha!”

  Chinook had known exactly what would make Jean-Paul happy.

  Cordell, of course, had known about it in advance. “Yes,” he said, “an ano. Chinook made it himself, just for you.”

  “I didn’t give him anything,” Jean-Paul said.

  Lise slipped an arm around her son, hugging him gently. “I suspect the only thing Chinook really wants is your friendship. Do you think you could try?”

  Jean-Paul shrugged his shoulders. He rolled his eyes toward his mother, then his father, feeling embarrassed. “Well, I might.”

  “We often misjudge others until we get to know them,” said Lise. “My own feelings about Chinook changed when I saw how determined he was to make amends. He’s really a very nice boy, though a bit mischievous.”

  Jean-Paul pulled the harness from the wrapping paper to examine it closer. “Sleigh bells!” he shouted. The huge bells jingled when he shook the harness. “Boy, this is great! It’s just what I wanted!”

  The wrapping paper fluttered to the floor and a small scrap of paper fell out. Jean-Paul picked it up and read from the carefully-penned French: JEAN-PAUL ARDOIN IS A MEMBER OF THE ICE PATROL. He looked at his parents. He grinned from ear to ear, his cheeks puffing out with delight. “Wow! They made me a member after all! And Sasha, too! See? Her name’s right down here in the corner.”

  Cordell rumpled Jean-Paul’s hair and chuckled. He went outside, and when he came back in he handed Jean-Paul his parka. “Bundle up. I’ll take you out to see what I made for you. Hurry!”

  Jean-Paul went outside with his father. In a few minutes, he returned, shouting to his mother. “Ma! Ma! Pa made a sled for Sasha! Does that mean I get to keep her? Huh, Ma?”

  Lise looked at Cordell. He shook his head. She looked back at Jean-Paul and said, “Perhaps. We’ll wait and see.”

  Jean-Paul threw his arms around his mother. She was much fatter now than she had been a few weeks before. He recalled how fat Sasha’s mother, Lishta, had been right before she had pups. He had known his mother would grow quite large in the middle, but of course she wasn’t going to have nine babies.

  “This is the happiest Christmas I’ve ever had,” Jean-Paul exclaimed, his eyes shining.

  Cordell threw back his head and great barrels of laughter rumbled up from his chest. “That’s what you say every Christmas, Jean-Paul!”

  ____________

  Shortly after the holiday, Cordell, Lise, and Jean-Paul visited Chinook’s family. Jean-Paul was surprised at the way the huge snow-block home looked inside. A bench of snow lay along the back wall, spread with many layers of bear skins for sleeping and sitting. At one side of the igloo was a whale-oil cooking fire. Seal meat simmered in a big open kettle hung above the hot yellow and orange flames. The spicy aroma made Jean-Paul’s mouth water.

  Lise had never been inside an igloo, either. Now she watched curiously as Chinook’s mother, Arnayak, sewed a piece of leather with a length of tough sinew. The Inuit woman looked up from her work now and then to smile at Lise. She pointed once to Lise’s golden hair and giggled, and Lise, not knowing what was wrong, felt herself blush. The two women’s eyes met as they smiled shyly at each other.

  Then, Taguk entered the igloo and spread his fur mittens on a rack to dry by the fire. He spoke rapidly in Inuktitut. There was a smile for Lise, an Inuit handshake for Cordell, and a pat on Jean-Paul’s head before Taguk sat flat-legged on the sleeping ledge before them.

  Jean-Paul thought Chinook looked much like his father, for he had the same broad chest, thick neck, and flat cheeks as Taguk. Their smiles were alike, too, as well as their deep black eyes. Chinook sat nearby, wearing brightly colored indoor clothes, his face turning orange from the fire light. His eyes snapped and sparked in mischief as they reflected the flames.

  Before anyone could speak, a plump, dark-eyed child climbed into Taguk’s lap. Her eyes darted from one stranger to another. Lise reached to touch the child, and the little girl giggled like the tinkling of chimes.

  “My sister, Lichen,” Chinook told the Ardoins. “She’s a pest!”

  “I knew you had more family,” Jean-Paul said. “But where are your brothers?”

  Chinook shrugged and pointed to an ancient-looking old man who sat quietly in the shadows. “Only my grandfather, Kiakshuk, and one uncle live here with us. Grandfather is nearly blind and mostly just sits. Sometimes he tells stories, but not as often as he once did. And my uncle is away, tending his trap lines. My three brothers are much older than I. They all have wives and live by the mouth of the big water.”

  “Do you ever see them?” asked Jean-Paul.

  “Sometimes.” Chinook laughed. “It’s not that far away, you know. It’s where we go to hunt seals. But I have too much to do to miss my brothers.”

  Both boys fell silent. Then Chinook asked, “What are you thinking, Jean-Paul Ardoin?”

  A slow smile spread across Jean-Paul’s face. “I was just remembering the raw fish you guys made me eat.”

  Chinook giggled. Cordell glanced sideways at his son, his eyebrows going up. “Eh? You never told us you ate raw fish. How was it?”

  Jean-Paul made a face, but said, “It wasn’t that bad. I had forgotten about the fish until just now.”

  Chinook laughed again. “The hardest part was thinking about it before he ate it, right, Jean-Paul?”

  Jean-Paul nodded and grinned. “Yeah. I almost got sick.”

  “Oh, Jean-Paul,” said Lise with a frown.

  Jean-Paul turned to his mother. “It wasn’t that bad, Ma.”

  Taguk spoke now, his short, strong hands pacing the words in the air. Cordell smiled at the man and turned to Chinook. “You’ll have to translate again, Chinook. One of these days I’ll have to learn Inuktitut.”

  “Well, you already know some words,” said Chinook. “Taguk says he is much honored by Jean-Paul’s visit with his father and mother.”

  Jean-Paul smiled at Taguk. Then, to Chinook, he said, “Please say I thank him for saving my life.”

  Chinook repeated the words to Taguk, who grinned and clapped his hands in delight. Many more Inuit words followed.

  Chinook said, “He says not to thank him. That it’s his duty to help his neighbors.”

  Cordell took Taguk’s hand in a firm clasp. “We’re grateful,” he said. “Perhaps we can help Taguk someday.”

  Chinook said, “We didn’t mean for Jean-Paul to get lost. We wanted only to trick him for a while. All of us felt very bad about what happened.”

  After a while, Je
an-Paul said, “I brought something for you. I was saving it for a special friend.” He dug into his pants pocket. “Here.” He handed Chinook a small stone from his collection. It had beautiful silver and green streaks running through it.

  “Wow!” cried Chinook, his eyes growing wide. He held the stone up and examined it from all angles. “This is great! Where did you get such a pretty rock?”

  “I found it where I used to live, in Quebec. It was on a lakeshore where Pa and I used to fish. It’s the nicest one I had. You can keep it if you want. I have many others. I’ll show them to you sometime.”

  Chinook gave Jean-Paul a big grin. “You proved you are very brave when you stayed in the apudyak, Jean-Paul. But I’d be your friend even if you weren’t.”

  Lise and Cordell exchanged proud smiles. Then Lise said to Chinook, “Tell your mother it would be nice if we could all be friends.” She glanced at Arnayak and smiled.

  Chinook spoke to his mother in Inuktitut. Arnayak grinned and patted her belly while pointing to Lise. “Nutaralak,” she said, nodding.

  Lise felt her face redden as Chinook explained Arnayak’s words.

  “She says you will have more nutaralak. That’s Inuktitut for baby, Madame Ardoin.”

  Lise found herself relaxing. She smiled warmly at the Inuit mother. “Tell her, yes, enfant!” Lise patted her own tummy. “Ask her if she can say it in French. Enfant!”

  Quick words were tossed between the two mothers by way of Chinook’s translations. Lise had resisted coming along on this trip. But now she was glad she had.

  For the next half hour, the group talked about Ice Patrol and hunting and Sasha. Jean-Paul thanked Chinook for the bear statue and the harness.

  “I’ll teach you to carve ivory,” Chinook said. “And I’ll also help you train Sasha. She’s a fine husky.”

  Jean-Paul thought for a moment. “I’m glad she was in the igloo with me that day. I didn’t tell you I’m afraid of the dark.”

 

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