The Haunted Igloo by Bonnie Turner Page A

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, Jean-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.”