Legend of the Ghost Dog (9 page)

“Sure I have,” Clay said. “Seen way more than one. If you know where to look, there's ghosts
everywhere
.”

“And Clay gave us this unbelievable cake, Dad — it was so good I almost died. He's really nice, and Quin says he's lived there all by himself for as long as anyone seems to remember. Do you really think you might be able to interview him in the book?”

“Oh, definitely,” my father said. “He knows a lot about the Iditarod and about dogs, even ones from way back when, who everybody else has forgotten about. And boy, can he tell a story.”

The mention of dogs everybody had forgotten about reminded me of Shadow, who was the real reason I was standing in my dad's office late at night, while Quin curled up patiently in a camp bed in my room.

“I actually wanted to ask you if it would be okay if Quin and I took a hike just by ourselves tomorrow,” I said. “Without Jack,” I added. “We'd be taking the same trail I've
been exploring, but we want to go a bit farther, and you know how Jack can get. We just really, really want to go by ourselves.”

My father took his glasses off, and leaned back in the ancient desk chair he had padded with a variety of pillows. His eyes looked tired, as they always did when he read and took notes all day.

“You really like Quin, don't you?” he asked me.

“I do, Dad. She's amazing!”

“I like Joe, too,” he said. “They're good people.”

“So would it be okay for tomorrow morning? You're going to be here and everything, so Jack won't be alone? For our hike, I mean?”

“Oh. Sure. You guys plan on that. You'll have a great time.”

I gave him a quick hug, and he hugged me back, still clutching a paper in his right hand that made a crinkling sound.

“Thanks!” I called, dancing back to my room.

“He said yes!” I told Quin.

Lazily ensconced in the camp bed under numerous blankets with the
Zodiac Guide
clutched in one hand, Quin gave me a happy thumbs-up.

 

Quin and I were still sleeping the next morning, Henry snoring at my feet, when I heard my dad moving around.

I checked the clock — it was just before eight. Quin showed no signs of stirring. I got out of bed quietly, grabbing my heavy shearling slippers and pulling a sweatshirt on before wrapping my robe over it.

“You made coffee already?” I asked, walking into the kitchen.

“Hey, you're up,” Dad said, pouring the steaming coffee into a thermos. “I was just going to write you a note. I need to run into town to pick up a box from the historical society. They're letting me borrow the old newspapers from the twenties. I cannot wait to start going through them!”

“Wait, you're going into Nome now?” I asked.

“Yeah, but I won't be that long. Should be back by two or three.”

I felt a flash of frustration rising in my throat. I took a deep breath.

“Quin and I are supposed to be going on a hike this morning, remember? I talked about it with you last night, to make sure someone would be home with Jack. You said we could go.”

My father looked stricken.

“Oh geez, you're right — I completely forgot about that.”

It was less than twelve hours ago — how could he have forgotten about it already?

“No, I mean, it's okay,” I said. “You have a lot of things to remember right now. But, you know, we'd still really like to do that. Go on the hike.”

“I'll make it back as quick as I can,” he said. “But I want to get those papers today. The weather report says we may get some snow overnight, and Joe told me that could mean anything from a dusting to a flat-out blizzard, in which case none of us will be going anywhere tomorrow. So I've got to make sure I've got that box before the weather hits.”

I tried to keep the disappointment off my face, reminding myself that the whole reason we were in Alaska was for my father's work.

“Okay,” I said.

“You're an angel, Sweet Tee,” he said. “And who knows, maybe it will take less time than I think and you guys can go when I get back.”

I nodded without saying anything, because suddenly I was afraid I might start to cry. I walked back into my room, shutting the door quietly. Henry lifted his head sleepily and stared at me. I stood there listening as my father muttered to himself, then came down the hall and went out the door.
When I heard the sound of the car engine starting, a fat tear rolled down my cheek. It was quickly followed by another. I knelt next to the foot of the bed and pressed my face against Henry's soft neck.

“What's going on?” Quin asked. “Hey, are you crying? What happened?”

I rubbed the tears from my face and shook my head.

“Nothing happened, it's just … my dad just left. He's going into Nome for the morning.”

Quin sat up.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked.

“He said he forgot. He has to get some research material now, in case the snow comes today.”

“But that's not fair,” Quin said.

“I don't know,” I said. “I mean, it's his research. It's why we came to Alaska in the first place.”

“No,” Quin said. “It's why
he
came to Alaska. But he brought two other people along with him. What about you?”

I stared at her.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Quin sighed and said gently, “No offense, but from the few times I've been here, it seems like you do a lot of helping out.”

“Not any more than other people,” I said. “Okay, more than some. But we're only here for two weeks, and this time is really important to my dad.”

“I know that,” Quin said. “But he specifically said we could go out to that cabin. Then this morning he's all like ‘Whoops, I forgot'? Did he even say he was sorry?”

I stared at Quin. Part of me wanted to lash out at her, because I hated hearing anything negative about my father. When my mother was off on one of her business trips, he depended on me. He always said so, and it made me feel proud.

But I didn't feel proud now. I felt angry.

“No,” I muttered, sitting back on the floor, as Henry watched me with mournful eyes. “He didn't say he was sorry. And he certainly didn't offer to change his plans.”

“That's what I mean,” Quin told me. “He shouldn't act like it's no big deal. You do more than your fair share of chores around the house. It's not okay that you don't get to be a kid every once in a while.”

“You know what? You're right,” I said, getting to my feet.

“Okay, well, that's all I'm saying,” Quin said.

I stood in the middle of the room, allowing Quin's words to really sink in. She had just verbalized in one easy sentence
what had been smoldering in the pit of my stomach for a long time. When did I ever ask for anything for myself? My mother's trips were getting longer and longer, and more stuff was falling to me. How, the one time I asked for something for me, could my father just forget about it like it meant nothing?

“Aren't you freezing?” she asked me. “Might as well just come back to bed, since we don't have a hike to pack for now.”

“No,” I said. “I'm not freezing.”

“Okay then, stand there and let your lips turn blue.”

All I had asked for was a few hours to take a hike.

And I wanted that hike.

“What are you just standing there for? You look like you're having an out-of-body experience or something.”

“Get up,” I said. “We've got to pack for the hike.”

Quin sat back up in bed and stared at me, confused.

“But … I don't understand. You just said your dad wasn't coming back until this afternoon.”

I nodded.

“I did. But you know what? You are absolutely right about this not being okay. Do you know why my father didn't apologize? Because he didn't think I cared. Which is
my
fault. For the past year, since my mom's career has gotten
crazy busy, I have never ever
once
complained. I've never asked for anything for myself, and I've always acted like there was nothing in the world I wanted to be doing but babysitting Jack or making meat loaf. For once, I want to hang out with my friend and not be on duty the whole time!”

I started breathing in and out quickly, the way a person does when they're about to cry.

“Okay. It's okay,” Quin said. “Look, it's good that you're realizing that. You just need to tell your dad the same thing.”

“But there's no point in talking to him, because he obviously doesn't listen to me,” I said, my voice sounding unusually high. “He certainly wasn't listening last night when I jumped up and down like an idiot thanking him for giving me permission to go on one measly walk. We're only here for maybe one more week. I have to find Shadow, get a picture of him — find out what he needs. I have to help him! For all I know there's never going to be a day my dad actually agrees to hang out here. So we
are
going on that hike, and we're going now. Jack is just sleeping. There's no flip-pin' way I'm sitting around here listening to him breathe when we could be out on the trail.”

Quin looked taken aback.

“But what if he … I mean, you know your brother better than I do, obviously,” Quin said. “But … do you really
feel okay about leaving him by himself after he ended up waking up and finding us gone the last time?”

“If he wakes up, he wakes up,” I snapped. “He doesn't need a security guard standing over him twenty-four hours a day. I am going to that cabin. If you want to stay here and baby Jack, then do it.”

My voice had gotten progressively louder. I hated the way I sounded — I hated the way I felt.

“No, I'm coming with you,” Quin said, getting quickly out of bed. “But at least leave him a note, okay?”

“Fine,” I said, grabbing my pack. “Whatever. Just hurry up.”

Ten minutes later we had two full packs, stuffed with extra layers of clothes, protein bars, water, a compass, a topographical map, and the camera. I scrawled a note to Jack saying we were out walking with Henry and not to worry.

“I feel like we're forgetting something,” Quin said, staring at her pack.

“We're fine. Quin, we're only going to be gone a couple of hours. We've got plenty — let's move!”

Henry, who had been watching our packing curiously, stood up expectantly as I zipped up my fleece. I knelt down, wrapped my arms around his neck, and kissed his soft ears.

“Good boy, buddy,” I murmured. “You ready to help us go find Shadow?”

Henry's eyes were bright with happiness and his tail was going a mile a minute as I got his leash down and attached it through the ring on his collar. Quin waited for me to finish. My hand was on the latch when the door to Jack's room opened and he came into the hallway.

“Uh-oh,” muttered Quin.

“Go back to sleep, Jack,” I told my brother.

Jack stood where he was, his hair standing up on his head and his little arms folded across his chest. Something about his expression made me suspect he'd heard some, or maybe all, of what I'd said to Quin earlier.

“What's happening?” he asked. “Why are you mad?”

“Quin and I are going on a hike, that's all,” I said. “Just go back to sleep, and we'll be back before you know it.”

“Are you going to see the dog ghost?” Jack asked.

“No,” I lied.

“Yes you are,” he insisted. “I heard you talking. I want to go too.”

“No,” I snapped.

“But —”

“Jack, I said NO!”

Jack flinched, and his eyes filled with tears. I sighed, put my pack down, and walked over to him.

“Sorry,” I said. “We're just in kind of a hurry. You can go with us next time.”

“But why can't —”

“Next time,” I repeated, my voice rising again. I put my hand on his back, and nudged him toward his room. “Just go back to bed. Seriously. I cannot deal with this right now.”

Jack allowed me to guide him back to his room, but he turned and looked at me, hurt and confused.

“Why are you mad at me?” he asked.

I gave his shoulder a little squeeze.

“I'm not mad at you,” I said. “Maybe I'm a little mad at Alaska, or something. We'll talk when I get back, okay? Okay?”

His lower lip trembled a little.

“Can Henry stay with me?” he asked.

“He's coming with us,” I said, as Jack's face fell even further. “He needs the exercise, Jack. You know that. Look, just go back to bed and stay there — we'll be home before you know it, and we'll do something fun. Your new Nintendo game — anything you want. Okay?”

I pretended not to notice that Jack's face said he was really not okay about any of this. I gave him a gentle nudge, and he obediently trotted into his room, turning to give me a confused look as I shut his door and ignored the huge tide of guilt rising in me.

“Let's go,” I said to Quin.

She opened her mouth to ask a question, but I pushed past her and opened the front door, letting Henry shoot out first. I hid the relief I felt as she followed me outside without questioning me further. I was absolutely determined to go, no matter what, even if Quin decided to stay behind with Jack. In spite of what I'd said, I definitely didn't want to go looking for Shadow by myself.

We walked quickly and in silence for about ten minutes, Henry energetically taking the lead. I could feel Quin giving me the occasional curious look. I knew she was surprised at my sudden act of rebellion. I was surprised by it too. I didn't like the feelings of resentment that had sprung up in my heart. I'd been pushing them down for so many months, ignoring everything, waiting for them to go away. But now I could not ignore them — I could not ignore the chorus that kept running through my head.

What about me? What about me?

“Tee!” Quin said. “Can we slow it down just a little?”

I realized that the angrier I got, the faster I'd been walking. My heart was pounding and I was out of breath.