38 - The Abominable Snowman of Pasadena (7 page)

“The snowman—!” I cried. “He’s back! Hide!”

We glanced around, frantically searching for a good hiding place. The cabin
was so bare—it wouldn’t take the monster long to find us.

“Behind the stove!” Nicole urged.

We dashed to the small, square stove and crouched behind it.

Outside the cabin we heard the slow, heavy footsteps of the monster.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.
Footsteps over the snow.

Nicole grabbed my hand. We froze, waiting. Listening.

Crunch, crunch.

Please don’t come into the cabin, I prayed. Please don’t capture us again.

The footsteps stopped outside the door. I squeezed my eyes shut.

The door burst open. A blast of cold air blew into the room.

“Jordan? Nicole?”

Dad!

We jumped out from behind the stove. There stood Dad, with his camera around
his neck.

We both ran to him and hugged him. “Dad! I’m so glad it’s you!”

“Hi!” he replied. “What’s going on, guys? I expected you to be asleep.” He
glanced around the cabin. “Hey—where’s Arthur?”

“He took off!” I cried breathlessly. “He took the sled. He took all the food and three of the dogs.”

“We chased after him,” Nicole added. “But he got away.”

Dad’s face filled with surprise, then horror. “I’d better radio for help. We
won’t last long without food.”

“Dad—listen.” I blocked his way to the radio. “Nicole and I—found the
Abominable Snowman!”

He sidestepped around me. “This is no time for jokes, Jordan. If we don’t get
help, we could starve to death out here!”

“He’s not joking, Dad,” Nicole insisted, tugging Dad’s arm. “We really found
the snowman. He lives in a cave under the snow.”

Dad stopped and studied Nicole. He always believes her. But this time he
wasn’t sure.

“It’s true!” I cried. “Come on—we’ll show you!”

Nicole and I tugged him out the door.

“Jordan, if this is one of your tricks, you are going to be in
major
trouble,” he warned. “We’re in a serious situation here and—”

“Dad, he’s not kidding!” Nicole cried impatiently. “Come on!”

We led him out into the snow to the spot where the snowman had dropped us. We
pointed out his huge footprints.

“Why should I believe this?” Dad said. “You faked the snowman’s footprints this morning, Jordan. These just look a little
bigger.”

“Dad, I swear—I didn’t make these prints!”

“We’ll show you the cave, Dad,” Nicole promised. “Follow the footprints.
You’ll see. It’s unbelievable!”

I knew Dad went along with us only because Nicole insisted. He trusted her.
She never played jokes on him.

Leaning into the wind, we traced the giant prints across the snow. Dad
couldn’t resist snapping pictures of them—just in case.

The footsteps led us back to the cave. They stopped at an opening in the
ground.

“The cave is down that hole,” I told Dad, pointing.

I think Dad believed us now. “Let’s go. Check it out,” he said.

“Huh?” I cried. “Back down there? To the monster?”

Dad was already sliding down to the cave opening. He reached up to help
Nicole climb down.

I hesitated. “Dad—wait. You don’t understand. There’s a monster down
there!”

“Come on, Jordan,” Dad urged. “I want to see this for myself.”

I had no choice. Dad was going in there no matter what I said. And I didn’t
want to wait outside alone. I scrambled down to the opening of the cave.

The three of us felt our way along the narrow passage until we reached the
mouth of the big cave.

Keeping close together, Dad and Nicole walked in. But I stopped at the
entrance and stared into the cave.

“Jordan! Come on!” Dad whispered.

There’s a monster in there, I thought with a shudder. A huge monster with
long claws and sharp teeth.

We managed to escape from him once. Why are we going back? What’s going to
happen to us in there?

I had a bad feeling. A very bad feeling.

Dad grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into the cave. I heard the drip of
icy water against the back wall. I blinked in the darkness.

Where was he? Where was the Abominable Snowman?

I heard Dad’s camera clicking away. I tried to stay close to Dad. I cried out
when I spotted the snowman. I expected him to roar and lumber after us.

But he stood stiffly, staring straight ahead.

Refrozen again. Inside a huge block of ice.

Nicole stepped closer to the block of ice. “How does he do that?”

“This is
amazing
!” Dad cried, snapping picture after picture.
“Incredible!”

I stared up at the monster’s face. He glared out at us from inside the ice.
His black eyes glittered, his mouth set in a toothy snarl.

“This is the most amazing discovery in history!”

Dad exclaimed. “Do you realize how famous we are going to be?”

He stopped shooting for a second and peered up at the brown-furred monster.

“Why stop here?” he murmured. “Why go home with nothing but photos? Why not
take the snowman himself back to California? Do you know what a sensation that
will create?”

“But—how?” Nicole asked.

“He’s alive, you know, Dad,” I warned. “I mean, he can crack out of that ice.
And when he does, it’s really scary. I don’t think you could control him.”

Dad knocked gently on the ice, testing it. “We won’t let him out of the ice,”
he said. “At least not until we’ve got him under control.”

Dad walked all the way around the block of ice, rubbing his chin. “If we cut
the ice a bit, it might fit into the supply trunk,” he said. “Then we could
carry the snowman back to California in the block of ice, locked in the trunk.
It’s airtight, so the ice won’t melt.”

He stepped up close to the ice and snapped a few more shots of the snowman’s
snarling face. “Let’s go get the trunk, kids.”

“Dad—wait.” I didn’t like this idea. “You don’t understand. The snowman
could
rush
us! He let us go once. But why take another chance?”

“Look at his teeth, Dad,” Nicole pleaded. “He’s so strong, he picked us both
up at once!”

“It’s worth the risk,” Dad insisted. “Neither of you is hurt, right?”

Nicole and I nodded. “Yes, but—”

“Let’s go.” Dad had made his mind up. He wasn’t going to listen to our
warnings.

I’d never seen him so excited. As we hurried from the cave, he called to the
snowman, “Don’t go away—we’ll be right back!”

We rushed over the snow to the cabin. Dad pulled the supply trunk outside. It
was about six feet long and three feet wide.

“The snowman will fit,” he said. “But with him inside the trunk, it will be
very heavy.”

“We need the dogsled to pull it,” Nicole said.

“But Arthur took the sled,” I reminded them. “So I guess the deal is off.
We’ll just have to go home without an Abominable Snowman. Too bad!”

“Maybe there’s another sled around somewhere,” Dad suggested. “This is an old
musher’s cabin, after all.”

I remembered the old sled I’d seen in the dog shed. Nicole had seen it, too.
She led Dad to it.

“Fantastic!” Dad cried. “Now let’s go get that snowman before he escapes.”

We hitched Lars, our only dog, to the old sled and towed the supply trunk to
the cave.

Then we crept silently into the cave, pulling the trunk behind us. “Careful,
Dad,” I warned. “He might have broken out of the ice by now.”

But the Abominable Snowman stood where we’d left him, frozen in his block of
ice.

Dad began to cut the ice down to size with a hacksaw.

I paced nervously. “Hurry!” I whispered. “He could burst out any minute!”

“This isn’t easy,” Dad snapped. “I’m working as fast as I can.” He hacked
away.

Each second felt like an hour to me. I watched the snowman carefully for any
signs of movement.

“Dad, do you have to saw so loudly?” I complained. “The noise could wake him
up!”

“Relax, Jordan,” Dad said. But his voice was tight and shrill, too.

Then I heard a
crack.

“Look out!” I cried. “He’s breaking out!”

Dad straightened up. “
I
cracked the ice a bit, Jordan.”

I studied the monster. He hadn’t moved.

“Okay, kids,” Dad said. “We’re ready.” Dad had cut the ice into a
six-foot-long rectangle. “Help me slide this into the trunk.”

I opened the lid of the trunk. Nicole and I helped Dad tip the ice over and
gently drop it into the trunk. It just barely fit.

We slid the trunk along the ground to the opening of the cave. Dad tied a
rope around it and climbed out of the hole. “I’ll tie the rope to the sled,” Dad
called from above. “That way Lars can help me hoist it out.”

“Hey,” I whispered to Nicole, “let’s sneak some snowballs into the trunk—just for fun. We can throw them at Kyle and Kara when we get home. Snow from the
cave of the Abominable Snowman—they’ll never top that!”

“No—please. Don’t open the trunk,” Nicole begged. “We just barely got the
snowman inside.”

“We can squeeze a few snowballs in,” I insisted. I quickly made a bunch of
snowballs, packing them tight. Then I cracked open the trunk and slipped them
inside, next to the block of ice.

I checked the monster one last time for signs of life. The ice was solid. We
were safe.

“They won’t melt in there,” I said sealing the lid of the trunk shut. We
locked it with the bolt and tightened the rope around it. I felt pretty sure
the snowman wouldn’t be able to break out of there; even if he did crack through
the ice.

“Ready?” Dad shouted from up above. “One, two, three—
heave
!”

Dad and Lars tugged on the rope until the chest lifted off the ground. Nicole
and I squatted beneath it to help push it up.

“Again!” Dad yelled. “Heave!”

We pushed as hard as we could. “It’s so heavy!” Nicole complained.

“Come on, kids!” Dad called. “Push!”

We gave the trunk a shove. Dad and Lars tugged it over the lip of the cave
opening.

Dad collapsed in the snow. “Whew,” he muttered, wiping his brow. “Well, the hardest part is over.”

He helped Nicole and me scramble out.

We all rested a few minutes. Then we dragged the trunk onto the sled. Dad
secured it with the rope. Lars pulled the sled back to the cabin.

Once inside, Dad hugged us both. “What a day! What a great day!”

He turned to me. “See, Jordan? Nothing terrible happened.”

“We’re lucky,” I said.

“I’m so sleepy,” Nicole complained, sinking onto her sleeping bag.

I glanced out the window. The sun sat high in the sky, as usual. But I knew
it had to be very late.

Dad glanced at his watch. “It’s almost midnight. You two should get some
sleep.” He frowned. “I’d hate to wake up here in the morning with no food,
though. I’m going to radio for help. You guys can sleep when we get back to
town.”

“Can we stay in a hotel?” I asked Dad. “In a bed?”

“If we can find one,” he promised. He opened his pack, searching for the
radio.

He shuffled stuff around in his pack. Then he pulled things out, one by one.
A compass. An extra camera. Cans of film. A pair of socks, balled up.

I didn’t like the look on his face. He turned the pack over and dumped everything on the floor. He sifted through it, again,
getting frantic.

“Dad? What’s the matter?”

When he turned to me, he had a terrified expression on his face. “The radio,”
he murmured. “It’s gone.”

“No!” Nicole and I both shrieked.

“I don’t believe it!” Dad cried, pounding his fist against his empty pack.
“Arthur must have taken the radio so we wouldn’t report him.”

I stomped around the room, frightened and furious. Our dogs, our sled, our
food—Arthur had taken them all.

And now the radio.

Did Arthur leave us here to freeze? To starve?

“Calm down, Jordan,” Dad said.

“But, Dad—” Nicole interrupted.

Dad shushed her. “Just a second, Nicole. I’ve got to think of a way out of
this.” Dad searched the cabin. “Don’t panic. Don’t panic. Don’t panic,” he
instructed himself.

“But Dad—” Nicole said, tugging at his sleeve.

“Nicole!” I snapped. “We’re in huge trouble. We could die out here!”

“Dad!” she insisted. “Listen to me! You wrapped up the radio last night so it wouldn’t freeze. It’s in your sleeping
bag!”

Dad’s mouth dropped open. “You’re right!” he cried. He hurried to his
sleeping bag and reached inside. He dug into his sleeping bag—and pulled out
the radio, wrapped in a wool scarf.

He switched on the radio and fiddled with the dials. “Iknek, Iknek. Come in,
Iknek.”

Dad asked the Iknek airport to send us a helicopter. He tried to describe
where we were.

Nicole and I smiled sleepily at each other.

“We’re going home!” she said happily. “Home to sunny, hot Pasadena.”

“I’m going to kiss a palm tree!” I declared. “I never want to see snow
again.”

I had no idea that our snowy adventure was just beginning!

“Ahhhh,” I sighed. “Feel that sun? Nice and hot.”

“The radio said it’s a hundred degrees today,” Nicole reported.

“I love it!” I beamed. “Love it!”

I slapped more tanning lotion on my chest.

Our Alaska trip all seemed unreal, now that we were home in Pasadena. The
cold, the snow, the wind blowing over the rolling white tundra. The snarling,
brown-furred Abominable Snowman. It all seemed like a dream.

But I knew it was no dream.

Dad had hidden the trunk with the Abominable Snowman inside the darkroom in
the backyard. Every time I passed it, I remembered the trip… remembered the
creature lying frozen in there—and shivered.

In our swimsuits, Nicole and I caught some rays in the backyard. Good old
sunny Pasadena. Where it never, never snowed.