North to Benjamin Page 17

  The wolf looked away, his ears flattened, before returning his gaze again as if he hadn’t heard, didn’t care, was just sitting out on a barely-used road in the middle of the night enjoying the fresh frigid air.

  Benjamin snorted suddenly, and said to Edgar, “Walk!” Then the two of them were in motion, climbing the hill toward where the wolf remained on guard.

  Closer, closer.

  “Do not run, do not flinch, make no sudden movement,” Benjamin whispered to Edgar.

  Closer.

  When Edgar could see the wolf’s flaring nostrils, he felt his throat tighten but did not stop.

  “You know it’s best,” Benjamin muttered to the wolf, who moved, finally, just before the dog and boy would have run into him.

  “There’s a shortcut,” the wolf huffed, and then he was a glint of gray disappearing into the bush.

  “Call off the others if you want this to work!” Benjamin said.

  “Others, others, others,” the wolf breathed back, a voice already almost lost in the shadows. “They’ll do what they like, now, won’t they?”

  It couldn’t be far to Victoria’s house, it couldn’t be. And Benjamin, half-frozen as he was, must have known what he was doing. Edgar had to trust, trust. He certainly couldn’t see very far. The forest floor was white and frozen, but the trees in the shadows brought an extra gloom. He and Benjamin might as well have been in outer space, that’s how cold and dark it felt.

  Edgar kept his eyes down, looking for the next footfall. Where was the wolf? Where were the other wolves?

  “Are they gone?” Edgar whispered.

  “Don’t be so hopeful,” Benjamin grumbled.

  “But I don’t—”

  The icy path snaked uphill between the trees. There wasn’t much room for Edgar to walk beside Benjamin, but he had to because his hand was still caught on the dog’s collar. Was his hand frozen now? Would he need to have it cut off even if he did survive this night?

  “Maybe when we get to Victoria’s house, she will have a gun,” Edgar whispered. Was Benjamin really going to surrender to the wolf once they got there? Surely Benjamin had only said so to fool the wolf. It was too much—for him to survive the river only to surrender because of Edgar.

  “Shhh!” Benjamin said. “Don’t think!”

  “But she might. She might have a gun that can save us!”

  The wolf growled then, hidden in shadows but very close by.

  “Shhh!” Benjamin said again.

  They were moving, they were moving, but were they really alive? Or awake? A bad dream might be every bit as crazy as this. Edgar shook his head, blinked, waited for the darkness to recede and for Benjamin to be lying on his mat on the floor back in their warm, warm borrowed house.

  Step, step.

  Was this even the right path to Victoria’s house? Maybe the wolf was leading them both deeper and deeper into the woods.

  “Benjamin—how do we know—”

  Benjamin was keeping his head down. He was sniffing, sniffing as he went along.

  What could Edgar smell? Nothing. Maybe he wasn’t a dog-boy anymore. Surely the wolves would have smelled a thousand times stronger and meaner than Brottinger, for example. Surely the stench of them would have boiled Edgar’s blood by now. Maybe he was too cold.

  He wasn’t going to make it to Victoria’s house. He was going to die along the way, and Benjamin would be eaten by the wolves all for nothing.

  Edgar tried to hurry. It was a comfort, at least, to be attached to as noble a friend as Benjamin, who had risked everything, time and again, to save him.

  He would not be saved.

  But Edgar hurried anyway, his body courageous for him. His body knew there wasn’t much time left. Ceese would not be waiting with the truck, and Victoria would not have her rifle ready, and the dogs of West Dawson were strangely silent. Everything in the world now was step after step after step.

  Why couldn’t he even smell the wolves? He and Benjamin were surrounded. They must have been. He could feel their hunger. Or maybe that was what he was smelling now, above everything else, the terrible ache of how much the wolves wanted to tear his flesh and swallow him down in bloody chunks even while he would still be screaming.

  “Benjamin . . . Benjamin, I’m afraid,” Edgar said.

  The dog was sniffing and walking. The ground was strangely far away.

  “I . . . don’t want them to get me!” Edgar said.

  “Of course you don’t!” Benjamin muttered.

  “But why—why are things this way?”

  “What way? We are close to Victoria’s. It’s the quickest way we could’ve come.”

  Were they? Really? Close? It seemed, vaguely, as if there were dogs barking after all. Had they been barking all along? Something rectangular stood out in the distance, man-made. Not a house. A . . . pen. Fenced-in. A half dozen dogs were barking, barking. They were close, but they sounded like they were on the other side of the hills or something. Benjamin was headed straight for them. Edgar had to follow, even if his feet felt separated from the ground.

  Where were the wolves?

  The dogs in the pen were going crazy. It was a strange and nearly silent dream. Edgar thought maybe one of them was Rupert, but they were just barking, not saying anything intelligible at all. Then—he saw the house, over there, in the shadows. A light flashed on. Who was that at the door? Victoria?

  Did she have her rifle?

  Benjamin had promised that he would go with the wolf after seeing Edgar to safety, but Edgar’s hand was frozen to the dog’s hardened collar, so Edgar couldn’t let him go. No bargain could be honored. It was as simple as that.

  Victoria stood at the door. A flash of her hair. Would the wolves bite off Edgar’s hand, just to make Benjamin pay as he had promised?

  Edgar wanted to say, “Where’s your rifle?”

  He wanted to say, “Get your gun!”

  And, “Wolves!”

  But he was falling, falling. It was so sad to be so close. He couldn’t help it. He didn’t know where the ground was anymore . . . and then he was on it. Benjamin was down too. Together they would be too heavy for Victoria to move inside, into the warmth.

  Edgar thought, This is a strange last thought to have.

  He thought, If Ceese were here, he could lift both of us to safety.

  And, I know where Ceese is.

  That is the trouble.

  And, I’m sorry, sorry, Benjamin, for what the wolves are about to do.

  VICTORIA

  IT WAS WARM INSIDE. VICTORIA hurried Edgar over to the wood stove and started to pull off his hat and jacket.

  “Get your gun,” Edgar said, because Benjamin didn’t seem to be inside with them.

  “Shh! You’re safe now!” Victoria said. “Oh, honey, look at you! What are you doing here? How did you—”

  “But Benjamin!” Edgar tried to turn, to point to the door, to the wolves outside.

  “I need to take these cold clothes off you,” Victoria said. She was both kind and hard in the eyes, and she wasn’t listening, she didn’t understand.

  “Benjamin made a deal, but he only said it to—”

  She was having a hard time getting his right arm out of his frozen jacket. “Can you let go?” she said. “Can you open your fingers at all?”

  He couldn’t. She would know that if she looked. But instead—

  “Whose collar is this?” she asked.

  “I told you—Benjamin’s!”

  “Benjamin’s? Where is he? I didn’t see him.”

  They were talking, just like humans. She could understand his words.

  Or did she speak dog now?

  “Am I barking right now?” Edgar asked.

  The stove was warm. It was lovely. He felt like he couldn’t stay awake another moment. But he could clearly see Victoria fighting with the collar in his hand, as tough and stiff as it was, how it wouldn’t go through the cuff of his jacket sleeve.

  “Barking? What do you mean?�
� Victoria said. “This whole thing is crazy! What are you doing here, out so late and on your own? How did you get here? Is your mother with you?”

  She worked it, got the collar to bend and pass through the sleeve after all. It took him the longest time to realize the collar was broken, maybe even bitten through. Who had done that? Benjamin?

  “Please go look outside! Benjamin was with me. And there were wolves and—”

  The collar dropped to the floor when he shook his hand.

  Had he chewed through it himself? His mouth was oddly . . . stiffly sore, cut even, on one corner. A little bit of blood. But how could he have chewed through such a stiff collar? He had tried to bite it off, he remembered. But it had been too cold. The buckle had been frozen stiff. He’d been too weak.

  “I’m not going to leave you right now,” Victoria said. If the wolf’s voice was rough, a tall tree, then Victoria’s was a concrete pillar at the moment. “I have to warm you, but we need to do it safely. All right?”

  Edgar nodded.

  “You got your hand wet, did you? I’m just going to leave it in your mitt for now and concentrate on your core. I don’t want you going into shock. Did you do something stupid in the river?”

  She was wrapping him with blankets, warming his middle.

  Edgar started to get up, to go call Benjamin, but she pulled him back.

  “Stay by the stove. We do your core first. We’ll see how that goes. I’m going to let the health center deal with your hand later. You’re going to need to stay awake so that I know I still have you. All right? What’s your mother’s number?”

  Her face was fierce. Edgar could not look away.

  “Your cheeks are not too bad. Your ears and nose are all right. I’m guessing your feet are pretty cold, though. How did you get your hand wet?”

  Why couldn’t he talk like a dog now, so that she couldn’t understand him, instead of bombarding him with questions that were only going to lead to trouble?

  “Did you really just cross the river in the middle of the night? Edgar, you need to tell me. What we do in the next few minutes is crucial. Do you understand?”

  Edgar nodded.

  Victoria tugged off his boots and then his socks, and rolled on some woolen ones she took from her own feet. Then she found another pair to pull over his hands, even his right, which still was curled coldly inside his mitt.

  “Don’t try to rub your toes. We won’t put them in warm water just yet. We’ll just let you stabilize while I call for help. Edgar—” She was kneeling before him at eye level. “What’s your mother’s number?”

  “She doesn’t have a phone,” he said.

  “Then I’m going to call Ceese.”

  Edgar shook his head. Her eyes narrowed.

  “Why shouldn’t I call Ceese?” Victoria said. And then, “Why are you here, Edgar?”

  She was breathing as if she’d been running.

  Her phone was out already. She moved away from Edgar. The blankets were warm. He was able, at last, to look around. It was a cozy cabin, softly lit, with gas lamps. It was all one big room, with the black stove in the middle, a small kitchen—well, everything was small—the sofa, many books in shelves. A ladder leading somewhere. It hurt to move his neck. Was he frozen everywhere?

  He turned anyway. The ladder led to another room, like an attic, with a bed. Where Victoria had been sleeping, probably, before—

  “Yes, hi, it’s me,” Victoria said into the phone. “I have Edgar, here. . . . Yes, Edgar. He came out of the bush half-frozen. He’s okay for now, but I’m going to need to get him to the health center.” Her back was turned. Her free hand was in her hair. “He didn’t want me to call you.”

  Edgar could hear Ceese’s big voice through the phone from across the tiny room. “What’s he doing with you?”

  And then, unmissable—Edgar’s mother’s sleepy voice. “Ceese, who’s that?”

  “Have you got somebody there?” Victoria snapped.

  Then from the phone, Edgar’s mother’s voice again: “Has something happened to Edgar?”

  “Who the hell is that?” Victoria said.

  Ceese said, “Victoria, listen—uh—” Then he didn’t say anything.

  Victoria threw her phone, hard, onto the sofa.

  It was happening, it was happening. How had Edgar thought this was going to play out?

  “I’m sorry!” he said.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” Victoria shoved both hands to her head. She paced. There wasn’t very far to go in the cabin. “Is your mother . . . Are she and Ceese . . . ?” When Edgar nodded, Victoria said, “So you crossed the bloody river! You half froze yourself—”

  His hands and his feet were hurting, burning, his right hand now especially. Why hadn’t he just stayed in bed? What had he thought was going to happen?

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  For everything. Everything he was doing.

  “How did you even know to come here? You’ve never been here! For Christ’s sake!”

  Edgar began to cry then. It flooded out of him. It was all his fault, all of it! Now Benjamin was gone, and his mother would hate him, and Ceese, and Caroline, and Victoria. He sobbed, but he couldn’t wipe his eyes. His hand was an aching, numb, senseless thing. He should’ve just stayed with Benjamin at the Paddlewheel Graveyard.

  Is that where he’d bitten through Benjamin’s collar? He felt again the cut corner of his mouth. Then all that with the wolves—

  “Please, stop crying,” Victoria said, with some gentleness. “You just blindsided me in the middle of the night. I really can’t believe you’re here. Yet you are. Don’t go into shock on me, all right? I’ll get you some warm water. Just sip it. Let’s take things one step at a time.” She took a big kettle off the stove and poured steaming water into a mug, then poured cold water in as well. She held the mug for him. “Slowly, okay?”

  She let him have a little bit, a little bit.

  “Now you start to tell me—why are you here?”

  Edgar had some more of the warm water. “I don’t know,” he said.

  She smiled strangely. He had a sense it was like ice breaking somewhere deep.

  “You’re just a little angel of chaos,” she said.

  The heat was hitting him now. He felt his head nodding, just like that, as if he couldn’t hold anything back anymore. Did he really have to stay awake?

  “Ceese was very nice to me and my mother,” he said. “That was when I knew there would be trouble.”

  He woke with a start, Victoria shaking him. It hadn’t been much of a sleep, a minute at most.

  “Are you cold still? I should’ve taken your temperature as soon as you got in. Let’s do it now, all right?” She pushed a thermometer into his mouth. He held it under his tongue.

  “I’m going to keep you drinking warm water,” she said. “How are your hands? I bet they’re really starting to hurt.”

  They were numb still. He touched his right hand with his left, and the right, especially, felt like a piece of chicken in a frozen package.

  She drew the thermometer from his mouth and put on glasses to read it.

  “All right. All right,” she said. “You’re still cool.” She pulled a woolen hat over his head and ears. “I’m sorry I yelled before. Ceese is my boyfriend. I know you know that.”

  Edgar nodded. She held out more of the warm water for him.

  “And you saw them, is that what happened? You saw Ceese and your mother together?”

  Nod again.

  “And they weren’t playing Parcheesi, I’m guessing.”

  She stepped to a cupboard and pulled out a pale red hot water bottle, filled it from the kettle, then wrapped it in a towel. She filled the kettle again and put it back on the stove, then fixed the hot water bottle underneath the blanket already wrapped around him. “I need to get you to the health center, but the heater in my truck is shot. I’ll call Ceese back if I have to, but Desmond lives nearby. I can always borrow his truck. But D
es doesn’t have a phone, and I don’t want to leave you just yet. You seem to be shivering less than when you came in. You tell me if something changes, all right? In a bit I’ll run and get Des’s truck.”

  The water bottle felt beautifully warm. He pressed it to his side and moved it around his chest.

  Her phone whistled. She picked it up angrily and stared at the little screen.

  “I ought to shoot you,” she said into the phone.

  Ceese’s voice sounded tinny. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

  She turned her back on Edgar and simply stood in the middle of the room flexing and unflexing the fingers of her free hand.

  “How’s the boy?” Edgar could hear Ceese finally ask.

  “If you’re asking if you should drive here in your heated truck and pick us up so we can go to the health center, then yes, somebody should, but not you.”

  Silence, flex, flex.

  “But he’s okay, though? Is it frostbite?”

  “You should send somebody else, in your truck, with the heater blasting. And whoever it is should get here five minutes ago. Don’t bring your lover!”

  She threw the phone down again onto the sofa.

  “How does this happen?” she said to Edgar. “Life is chugging along, you’re with a great guy, and then the dogs start barking in the middle of the night and suddenly everything is garbage?”

  “I’m sorry,” Edgar said.

  “I don’t believe you are. You are something else entirely. You’re—something else.” She shook her head, but she didn’t really seem to be angry at him.

  “I didn’t want to make you sad,” he said. “I crossed the river, but Benjamin fell in, so I had to pull him out.”

  “How did you even know where I live!” Victoria exclaimed.

  “The wolf showed me. Benjamin made a deal with him. Otherwise we would have stayed at the Paddlewheel Graveyard, freezing.”

  “The wolf showed you? What?”

  “After the Paddlewheel Graveyard. Benjamin thought he smelled a fire. But it was all cold. I might have dreamed some of it.”