by Anubha Mehta
Aippaq let out a loud throaty laugh.
“Dear Aippaq, we are here to find out daughter. She was with a group of students….” I said softly.
“Yes, I know. I will take you to the rescue party. You are just in time. They leave tomorrow morning.”
“Have you had any news of the children?” Veer asked what I dreaded to ask myself.
I closed my ears quickly. I did not want to risk hearing anything contrary to my belief. But I did not close my eyes. I was watching Veer’s face intently. His eyes expanded and flooded. And then his facial muscles relaxed. His lips stretched with the hint of a smile. I knew that the answer was not what I was dreading. So I slowly opened my ears.
Aippaq was saying, “Yes, yes, the news from the watch tower is very hopeful. A small group of college students has made it to the village at the other end. But nothing has been confirmed yet, and we will only know for sure when we arrive there tomorrow.”
Now I closed my eyes and prayed. Again, I called out for Diya in my heart, and I felt her presence inside. Veer held my hand tightly. I was so thankful that we would be able to catch the rescue party in time.
“Come this way, please. Have you ridden in a sleigh before?” he asked.
“You mean a dog sleigh?”
They were the most beautiful blue-eyed, snow-white huskies I had ever seen. Thick furs, muscular bodies, and hefty limbs that could carry you across the world. All twelve were harnessed and ready for take-off. We stepped into a wooden sleigh mounted on large iron skis and it had small brass bells with red ribbons hanging on its rail. The dogs stirred.
Aippaq took the reins in his hands. The bells started jingling. So this is what Santa Claus feels like when he leaves the North Pole on Christmas Eve, I thought. Aippaq was our Santa, and he would deliver us to our gift, our life, our daughter, Diya.
He shouted out loud, “Muushhhh!” The huskies stiffened to attention. “Geegeee!” and then a hard tug at their leash and a final “Haaawwww!” We were gliding on a glacial terrain, soon whisking through a white spruce wilderness, pulled by the power and grace of these amazing animals. It was as if we had wings.
The spruce eventually emptied out into a clearing. An enormous cloud of mist rose from the ground, and we were going to puncture it. A fog descended and then suddenly cleared. We had passed through an invisible gateway. Aippaq pointed to a large and crude stone structure on the horizon. It was the shape of a standing man with his hands held out as if it was flying.
The Inuksuk!
“This is our Inuit landmark that wards off evil for our village of Tuktoyaktuk and a marker on the travel route for our brothers herding the caribou. It took our villagers twenty moons to build this one. Each rock was personally chosen from a local stone quarry near Monterrey. This Inuksuk has spread its message of unity to guide our people in the harshest of winters and kept us working together, not separately.”
“We can learn so much from this place,” Veer said, as we continued on.
On the horizon, I could see thick grey smoke from distant chimneys.
The dogs were hushed and stopped. I was still reeling with the movement for some time after we had stopped. With a stiff, frozen body I dragged myself off the sleigh and into knee-deep snow.
We picked up our bags to walk to our huts, but Aippaq stopped dead in his tracks. He pointed to a trail of fresh prints leading towards the huts.
“It is the big grey wolf—he is back,” Aippaq said. “Last month a few women saw an Eastern red wolf pack, with the male, female, and eight cubs. It seemed they had travelled from the Algonquin highlands in the heart of Ontario. However, this month we had more trouble. A pack of grey wolves moved in from boreal forests, just north of Lake Superior. Even the Arctic fox and the coyotes that scavenge on our borders don’t come close to the might of these red or grey wolves.”
My thoughts immediately went to Diya.
Veer read my mind and asked, “What about the lost children? Could the wolf attack them?”
“No, we will make sure of it.” I found my breath again.
“How?”
“Tonight is a full moon. Our village’s official wolf-howler will lead his team into the woods leading to Skymark point. This is a sacred place where the boulders meet the frozen Mackenzie River that leads to Inuvik-Quebec. He will do a rally cry for the pack to lead them out of our area. I will be accompanying them. If you’d like, you can come too.”
Veer held Aippaq’s hand in gratitude.
“Don’t worry, I am a father too,” said Aipaqq. “I know what you are going through. Have faith.”
Nestled behind a large spruce, our hut was a single room with a small bed, a kettle, a fireplace, and some eiderdowns. I threw myself onto the cold hard bed and must have dozed off. It was dark outside when Veer nudged me to get up. He pulled me out into the snow. And pointed to the sky.
I looked up. And saw heaven!
The sky was on fire, electrified with bright emerald-green and pale-pink lights that were flashing across the horizon, wrapped around jagged windswept peaks and pulling the earth toward itself with a hidden magnetism. It was a complete collision of all our senses. I could stretch my palms and touch this magical shield. It was as if we had been waiting our whole life for this moment, to see the Aurora Borealis, the Northern Lights! And under the same sky, somewhere, was Diya. She and we were now connected, this heaven stretching between us.
Just then came an unmistakable low howl. The wolves! I looked at Veer, surprised that he had not gone with Aippaq.
As if reading my thoughts, he said to me, “Maya, there is nowhere I would rather be, except under this sky. I am looking at heaven, and I don’t care if my life ends now. I have been salvaged. My little girl has fulfilled my wish to see the Northern Lights. I am ready for anything after this.”
“Shhhhh, don’t say such things, Veer. Be careful what comes out of your mouth. I am not superstitious, but I am not prepared for what you have just said.”
“Maya, I know what I have to do now.”
“What, Veer?”
“Send Diya back to you.”
That was a strange choice of words. They stayed in my ears for the rest of the night.
37.
THE NEXT MORNING, Veer and I met the avalanche rescue team. There were several guards from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police on snowmobiles with GPS and other buzzing electronic devices. Each of them carried at least one mountain rescue dog: Saint Bernards, collies, and golden retrievers. Then the local men formed a team with beacons, avalanche cords, Recco reflectors, shovels, and probes. A Blackhawk helicopter with the Canadian Red Cross Flag was on standby.
The lead search commander of the Mounted Police assembled the team. His voice was grave and his face drawn. By the time I reached the group, Veer had already shaken hands with the team and was glued to every word the commander was saying. “In intervals of thirty minutes, my men will scan one hectare at a time. In teams of five, you volunteers will be using avalanche probes and simultaneously combing the same area. The moment you spot anything you will use a smoke signal. Understood?”
He stopped and took a deep, sullen breath. He had been informed that we were the parents of one of the students. He looked directly at Veer and me and said, “I want us to hope for the best but be prepared. Suffocation, injury, hypothermia, and trauma are some of the things these children have been fighting. We are not to lose a single moment more; each minute that we spend here takes away from their chances of survival. Best of luck everyone.” Within a second he had mounted the helicopter with the rescue team, and his guards were buckled up in their snowmobiles with their dogs.
Veer boarded the helicopter. His hazel eyes held mine until they disappeared into the clouds. I collapsed in the snow and prayed.
Aippaq pulled me up and took me into my cabin. “You are not alone,” he said. “There are a few f
amilies who have come to search for their children. Rest now, you will need your strength later.” I obeyed meekly like a child.
The day turned to evening and then night. I walked to the base camp to find out if there was any news. Most of the noise was coming from a mobile home standing on stilts. Aippaq was sitting at a narrow table with a group of local youth, drinking beer and playing darts. A small TV was broadcasting images of snowy places, but its volume was turned down. In a semi-enclosed lounge, the elders were smoking pipes and wearing earth-coloured parkas.
I scanned the room. There was another couple, their faces etched with worry. They looked at me and smiled, no doubt guessing that I was a waiting parent like them. The woman had cropped brown hair. She was fiddling with a handkerchief between her thumbs and using it to wipe her tears frequently. The man, wearing a checked coat and matching hat, had his arm around her shoulder. They were huddled together, clinging to any bit of solace they could provide to each other.
I sat down next to Aippaq, shivering. It must have been minus thirty outside. He immediately called for someone, who came in with a plate heaped with piping hot food for me. “You must eat. This is our dish for the day. We only make one dish and everyone eats the same thing.” I looked at the bowl of fresh ginger root and chilli spread over a roast of some kind.
“What is this, Aippaq?”
“Asian barbequed caribou steak. Try it.”
The cook was watching me, and I did not want to insult either of them. So I took a bite and controlled the urge to retch. On a good day this food would have tasted so good. But today, the last thing that was on my mind was food.
I wondered what I was doing alone in this godforsaken place. Where was Diya? Where was Veer? That was all I could think about. I felt dizzy. I wanted to go back to my cabin to rest and wait. As I started walking, I heard footsteps. It was Aippaq.
“Maya, wait up.” He reached me, and stopped to catch his breath. “We have just got news that one of the search parties has found a small group of children who had managed to escape. They survived because of their emergency training….”
“What?” My heart jumped. Diya had emergency training. Yes, she did.
“And the good news is that they are being transported back tonight in the helicopter. The rest of the team is continuing to search for the remaining children and won’t be back till later.”
I came alive again; I could breathe again under the electric emerald sky. I went back to the caribou steak and took two bites before a smiling chef. Then I sat tight in that stuffy, noisy clubhouse and waited. The other couple waited next to me. None of us had the strength to talk, but we were united in our resolve to get our children back to safety.
***
It was almost midnight before I heard the sound that I had been straining my ears for.
Chop …. Chop … Whirr …. The helicopter was descending vertically, and blowing snow in a whirlpool. Aippaq shouted something to me about moving back, but his voice was taken away by the wind.
The door opened and a beaming commander threw a rope ladder down to the ground. He turned around and faced the inside again. I heard him say, “Ready? Line up.”
First, the survivors with IV drips attached to their blue arms were sent down. Then their faces emerged. Bruised, and bloody, but smiling. They had made it. One after the other. I held my breath.
A young boy emerged. He had green eyes and dirty blond hair, but there was something different about him. He stood out from the other faces. I thought I might have seen him somewhere before.
He moved on, and the children kept pouring out. How many could this helicopter carry?
I looked around. The couple that had been waiting with me were still huddled together, just behind me. One of the rescue team members was talking to them with a photograph in his shaking hand. The woman buried her head in her husband’s shoulder and started sobbing uncontrollably. Her partner’s gaze was frozen on a pile of snow in front of his boots. He had no expression on his face. The rescuer’s face was beetroot red with emotion, and his eyes were watering.
Where was Diya? I started praying again, without blinking, without breathing. I called out to her from my heart, and this time I got a response.
Suddenly the sun peeped out from behind the dark clouds. There she was. In front of me. Her face frazzled, crystallized blood on her forehead, blue cheeks, and damp eyes searching with hope. She did not see me when she glided down the rescue rope. But when she stood up, I was there to catch her. Nothing felt more complete in this universe than to have my child back in my arms. We were told to move on the side, and I don’t remember where we stood for the next hour. I do remember wiping her tears and mine for a long time. I knew that night that there was a God somewhere and that this God had been kind to us.
38.
“DIYA, WHERE IS PAPA?” After we had become conscious once again of our surroundings, I realized that Veer was not with the group that had just arrived. Diya looked at me blankly.
“Papa? I don’t know. Why, was he in the rescue team?”
“Of course. He accompanied the team. He wanted to help find you. Did you not see him?”
“No, Mama. I had no idea.”
“Who rescued you?”
“One of the officers in the snowmobile released his golden retriever, who followed the scent of our cardigans all the way to a rough igloo that we had built to survive the night. I saw a few people in the distance, but I was going in and out of consciousness when they pulled me out.”
It had to be a mistake. Veer was simply being his usual irresponsible self. I thought he must be busy talking to the rescuers or something. There was no other explanation. I ran to find the chopper, the commander, the rescue team, Aippaq—anyone. Finally, I found the commander who was getting ready to go back.
“Have you seen my husband?” I panted.
“Yes, M’am. He was a great help, considering that he has no formal emergency training.”
“Well, where is he?”
“We split into two groups. He wanted to stay back to help the other missing children. He was the one who spotted your daughter, and then he went with the other group heading north.”
“Are you going to pick him up now?”
“Yes, but we will not be back until tomorrow. The winds from the east are very strong tonight, and they will make it impossible to fly back.”
As I watched the helicopter fly away, what he had said suddenly sunk in. Why had Veer found Diya and not met her? Diya had no idea that her father was her rescuer. Nothing made sense to me.
I walked back to where I had left Diya. A couple of nurses from the Red Cross were checking her with a stethoscope and handing out steaming cups of hot cocoa.
My head hurt.
I started walking back to our cabin, and from the corner of my eye I saw Diya running to catch up with me.
***
It was a restless night. Images of the couple who’d had to face terrible news kept haunting me. They had heard something that no parent ever wants to hear. And then a familiar voice from the past kept ringing in my ears. A woman’s voice. I could not hear the words, but halfway through the message that voiced changed into Veer’s voice. Soft, playful. “Maya … Maya.”
I woke up sweating. A blizzard was howling outside. So the commander had been right about not being able to fly that night. Soon it would be the dawn of a new day, and with it would come Veer. We would return home with everything that we needed in this world—each other.
Diya was sleeping next to me like a little girl curled up in a foetal position. I spread my blanket over her and stepped out into the wind. The coldness gave me strength. I thanked it for sustaining my child and my husband within its folds.
Within an hour, the sky had brightened, making it possible for Diya and me to see the path towards the helipad clearly. I did not see the other couple among
the waiting crowd. It seemed like a long wait, but our heartbeats synced with the sound made by each blade of the descending helicopter. The door opened to a beaming commander. My eyes strained once again to concentrate on every surviving face that climbed out of the helicopter to be whisked away by the waiting medical team or their loved ones. One by one they came. One by one my heart beat faster. I knew the belly of the helicopter was large enough to shelter everyone, even Veer, so I tried not to be impatient.
But then the commander announced, “Thank you, everyone, for your support and help. Our operation has been successful and we have brought back almost every student from the avalanche….”
What was he saying? Why was he thanking everyone? No, there was something wrong. Where was Veer?.
I walked up to him and grabbed his hands tightly. “Where is my husband?”
I saw him cringe. He did not speak. I asked again. “Where is my husband? You promised to bring him back. He was helping you.”
His face turned white as if he had made a mistake. He looked down on me and almost whispering, he said, “I am sorry. We did not see him this morning.”
“What do you mean? What are you saying?”
“We saw him at our base last night, and he was there. Then this morning the blizzard was coming our way so we called out to everyone, but we didn’t have time to do a head count. We presumed that everyone was on board and those who weren’t were returning on snowmobiles. But wait, let me ask, I am sure Dylan checked. He called out to one of his fellow officers. “Dylan, this lady is asking about her husband, you remember the big fella who helped us yesterday with tracking the second group? It seems that he has not returned with us on the chopper. Perhaps he decided to come back on a snowmobile instead?”
“Oh yes, the big fella. I remember him from last night. When I took a round of the premises before boarding, he was not there. So I presumed that he had already joined one of the last snowmobile groups that were returning.”