The Icarus Project (12 page)

“I hope he finds something, or Clark’s Mammoth Park is going to turn out to be a pretty scary place,” I said.

“More like Randal Clark’s tomb,” Kyle added.

The scandal of “Tusk-gate” wasn’t over. Not by
a long shot. Dad was one of the nicest guys in the world, but he wasn’t a doormat.

I knew that he had woken up early and headed out to the dig site with Karen and Ivan. Kyle and I were to join them at the site that afternoon.

A web of cold air clung to me, but I ignored it. I was trying to acclimate, like Justice said. I pretended that I didn’t notice the way the cold sank through neoprene, fleece, and cotton until it rubbed against my skin and stole my warmth. I shifted from foot to foot and shook out my arms. There were no birds overhead. I imagined they had been absorbed into the white cottony blanket of the sky.

I stared at a chain-link fence standing guard in front of me.

West’s face appeared in the door to the dog hut, and he yelled, “Don’t touch the fence with bare skin! No fingers, noses, cheeks … and no tongues!” He pointed a gloved finger at Kyle, who burst out laughing, and I wondered where he had put his tongue before.

West continued. “No pressing up against it. The metal will stick to your skin—rip it clean off.”

I eyed the fence from a safe distance. The cold was still there, lingering, acclimating to me.

Finally, the door shot open and the dogs spilled out of the warm hut. A pack of lean and lanky huskies barked and yapped, their pink tongues lolling out of their open mouths. Smoky breath plumed from their snouts. They bounced and jostled for our attention, banging up against the fence until West hurried over to let us in. Kyle and I went inside the enclosure and were immediately mobbed. Tails whipped back and forth. Dog bodies wove their way between the two of us as we petted and rubbed their furry backs.

Kyle dragged one dog around by a knotted rope that the dog clenched tightly in his jaws. The wild crystal-blue eyes of another dog stared at me. I knelt down and was overrun with dog love, licks, and kisses. West let Kyle and me jump around with the dogs for a while before motioning for us all to come back to the warmth of the hut. Once inside, I pulled off my gloves and sunk my fingers into their furry coats.

Then I saw the runt off in the corner by herself, pushed to the back of the pack. I was drawn to her right away. Her fur was all white except for a splatter of brown spots and speckles that made her look like she had been splashed with mud. I moved slowly in her direction. I held out my
hand for her to smell, and she eased toward me, low to the ground, tail wagging wildly. Once she smelled me, she licked my fingers and let me run my hands through her thick, soft fur.

“She likes you,” West said.

“Will she be one of the dogs pulling the sled today?” I asked hopefully.

“No, she doesn’t do much pulling. Too small.” He patted the haunch of a much bigger dog.

“Oh,” I said, disappointed. “What’s her name?”

“She doesn’t have one.”

The dog’s amber-colored eyes stared up at me. What had looked like the brown splashes of a mud puddle reminded me of the cinnamon sugar that Mom used to sprinkle on toast to make it taste sweet and crunchy when it came out of the toaster oven. “How about Cinnamon? That’s a good name.” Naming something gave it strength, made it more whole. Cinnamon was a fiery color.

“For a sled dog?” Kyle knelt on the floor, his arms around two other dogs. “She needs a tough name. Like Ginger Snap! That’s a tough-dog name.”

“That’s good, too. But I still like Cinnamon. Gives her a spark. What do you think, West?”

Cinnamon rolled over on her back, exposing her white belly.

“Not bad.” West grinned at me, knowing what I was up to. “Since you’re taking the initiative on giving her a
name, why don’t you get the brush out and give her a good brushing? That coat of hers is one big mat.”

“Cinnamon!” I called to her as I dug a comb and brush out of the supply cabinet. She jumped to her feet and raced over to me. I rubbed her neck, getting a face full of dog licks. “I think she likes her new name.” I dragged the brush through her tangled fur, and she yapped and squirmed.

“Don’t get too attached. She’s probably not going to stay with us, seeing as she’s not as strong as the others,” West said. He was holding a string of harnesses on his arm that must have weighed a ton. Strength seemed to be an important quality for West.

“Sure, she might be small, but she’s smart,” I said. A wad of shedded dog hair flew in the air as I brushed out her matted fur.

“She might be. But on a dog team, you need strength. No weak links. That little girl has a lot to prove if she wants to stick around.” West flexed his arm and carried the harnesses to the other side of the dog pen.

“So where is she going if she can’t stay here?” I asked. I held the dog in my arms, raking my fingers through her speckled fur. They couldn’t just send her away. She wasn’t that small. And what was wrong with being small? Nothing, that’s what.

Kyle stood and rocked back on his heels, a big black-and-gray husky tangled up in his legs.

“Can I keep her?” I blurted out suddenly. Right away I knew Dad would kill me. First, no tusks, and now I had put in a request for a live animal. “Please?” It was crazy, but I didn’t want her to go. I felt an instant connection with her. She was meant to be mine. I just knew it.

“You would have to ask Randal,” West replied. “After yesterday, he might be in a generous mood. But you might also want to ask your dad. I don’t know how he would react to a dog suddenly joining you. And then you’d need to ask if it’s OK with Justice. But I don’t see why he would mind.” A dog poked his muzzle in West’s hand, looking for a treat.

“I’ll ask, so don’t send her away yet,” I said. “I think she likes me.” Cinnamon had snuggled inside the crook of my arm and was wagging her tail.

“Two girls sticking together,” West said. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Justice entered the hut, looking cool in his aviator sunglasses. “Who’s ready to hit the powder and go for a run?”

“We’re ready!” Kyle yelled.

Dog barks filled the hut.

“Justice will be driving the sled out to the site. He trains all our dogs.” West gave Justice a pat on the back.

“What a cool job,” Kyle said. “I’d love to be outside flying the helicopter and working with dogs all day.”

“I’ve been raising dogs my whole life. More of a love than a job. My ancestors have lived in this area for generations.
Dogs are as important to us as people. They’re members of our family.”

“Even the runts?” I asked. I nudged West with my elbow. He and Justice exchanged a smile.

“Well, all of the dogs have a place. Maybe not at the front of the pack, but we find roles for them. Sometimes the role is just as a companion. But that can be an important job, too.” Justice scratched the top of Cinnamon’s head and she wiggled out of my arms. She leaped and jumped and yapped, but she looked tiny in comparison to the other dogs.

“When we hitch the dogs up, can I drive?” Kyle begged. “Please?”

“We’ll see,” West said, and winked at Justice.

Justice went outside to harness the dogs and get the sled ready. Kyle and I followed right behind. The cold nipped at my exposed skin. The dogs danced on the snow. Kyle and I piled onto the back of the sled with Justice. The air was crisp and sharp and clear as glass. Through my goggles, the sky looked like cloudy marshmallows hanging low above our heads.

The trip out to the dig site was about ten miles. I tucked my head down and enjoyed the ride until Kyle pulled on my sleeve and pointed off in the distance. Silvery domes littered the landscape, clustered together like shiny igloos.

“That’s where you both are going to be staying tonight,” Justice said.

Finally, it was real. I was going to my first expedition site.

A huge white tent, barely visible from a distance, was where the dig was set up. When we reached it, the tent was buzzing with energy, people talking and working. It was like walking into a dream. The site was organized chaos. Dad and Randal were having a discussion, which was a nice way of saying that they were disagreeing. Ivan and Karen were also taking sides in the discussion. Equipment was everywhere. A generator buzzed in the background. To make the scene even more hectic, Jake was circling the group of scientists with his camera.

“We’ve arrived,” West announced.

“Hey, you made it.” Dad waved us over.

“Good. We can take a break and give the kids a tour of the site.” Randal patted Kyle on the back. “Take a good look around. One day you could be leading your own expedition.”

One side of the tent had been secured to an icy rock wall. A large crevice in the surface looked like a giant pick had taken a bite out of the ice. I peered through the jagged opening and saw the rough sides of walls that opened up into a small cave, protected by layers of clear tarp. My pulse quickened, for inside lay the mysterious mass. Randal directed our attention to where he planned on excavating. He put his arm around Kyle and showed him where they were removing sections of the permafrost in hopes
of unearthing the mass. A table was covered in maps and tools. I tried to get closer to see what was going on, but Jake pushed his way forward, nosing his camera in to get a shot of Randal and Kyle. I tripped and bumped into his leg. He glared at me as if I were the most annoying person on the planet; when I tried to stand a little closer to Kyle, Jake yanked my hood back off my head, and I stumbled backward.

“Hey, no wannabes in the shot,” he said.

What was he talking about? The last thing I wanted was to be on film, but with him constantly shoving that camera in everyone’s face, it was hard not to be caught in one of his precious shots.

“You’re ruining the close-up. Look, I know it’s fun to be in a movie, but I need this to be real, and a little girl doesn’t add much to the credibility of the dig. Now move it.”

What a jerk. Who cared about his stupid movie? I shifted closer to Karen, but Jake moved also and sighed, annoyed. “Your big head is in the way.” He reached out and pulled my hat off. I hadn’t had time to braid my hair that morning, and when he pulled my hat off, my white hair exploded in a mass of wild frizz.

“Wow! Holy Yeti head! Someone has crazy hair,” Jake yelled. “Let me get a shot of that. Weird. Is it real?” Jake reached his free hand out and messed up my hair.

“Get off me. And, yes, it’s real.” I stepped out of his reach.

I tried to grab my hat out of his hand, but he pulled back and shoved his camera in my face. I scowled into it. Kyle and Karen looked away and went back to inspecting the maps, trying to ignore Jake. But I felt everyone staring. Randal looked at me for a second and muttered something that sounded like
fascinating.
Dad grabbed my hat out of Jake’s hand and gave it back to me.

“Back off,” Dad said to Jake. “Keep your camera out of the way. And don’t go near my daughter again. With or without your camera. Got it?”

“Hey, I go where my uncle goes. You don’t have any say.” Jake smirked. “I was just joking around with her. Have a sense of humor.”

My cheeks flushed. I wished a crevasse in the icy floor would open up and swallow Jake and his camera whole. Why did I let a guy like him bother me? I was too embarrassed to stay inside the tent where everyone was planning and joking, so I went outside to hang with the dogs and get some fresh air. I approached the back of the sled and saw an Inuit woman sitting there. “Hi,” I said, sitting down next to her. “I’m Maya.”

She smiled warmly at me. Justice glanced over at us. “This is my grandmother, Jada,” Justice said. “She likes to come visit the site some days.”

“I like to see the mountains,” she said. Jada was sitting on a pile of furs on the edge of the sled. A fur-lined hood ringed her face and a fur blanket lay over her lap. She must
have been used to the harsh weather, because she didn’t seem to mind being outside.

“Would you like to warm up in the tent?” I asked.

“No,” she said. “I want some quiet. It’s too loud inside.”

She stretched her blanket over my legs and then looked off into the distance. She was staring at an icy mountain ridge. It reminded me of a glass castle. I sat in silence and stared out over the landscape, the distance growing outward like a mirage. It was calming. My anger at Jake began to melt away. I must have been breathing heavily, because Jada patted my hand with her fur mitten.

“This is a place of great spirits. It is important to my people.” Her voice was strong. “Stories are important to us. They give our past meaning. Our ancestors live on through the stories.”

The dogs barked and jumped. Justice unhooked Cinnamon. He had let her come along since he knew that I liked her, and she bounded over to me.

“Jada, the dogs say they want to be in a story,” Justice said. His dark eyes glittered in the sun.

Jada tucked a bit of my hair that had escaped back under my hat. She and Justice must have heard the whole thing.

“I hate my hair. It’s a joke,” I said. I had never said that to anyone before. It seemed childish, and I didn’t want to act like a baby in front of Dad and Randal. But it was hard being different, especially when everyone could see it so easily.