Hope and Despair on Great Bear

Boy Gone North : Part II

The Trapper's Homestead was perched on a small hill. A crooked wooden fence curved along the path that led to the front door. White smoke hissed from the chimney and into the evening air. I stayed outside while Granda knocked the door. A heavy man greeted him when the door swung open, and they embraced like schoolboys.

A man after all, I thought to myself, not a monster.

I watched from a clearing at the bottom of the hill where rabbits peered tentatively from the long grass.

Granda stepped inside the cabin, turning to me before closing the door and shouting down:

"Stay close. Come up if you need a drink. He doesn't bite!"

The door shut and laughter boomed from the inside.

This is where the story gets foggy. I remember snippets, pieces.

I wandered around the clearing, looking for sticks. I was planning on setting a rabbit trap, I believe. The train rattled by on a nearby railway line. Maybe I was going to build a bow. I can't remember. I got a wave of dizziness, and had to sit down. I tried to call, but I was too weak. Then, I remember holding my hand out, and from the chilly pink-dusk sky, a snowflake fell on my palm. Then a red droplet. My nose was bleeding. And I passed out.

I woke in the darkness, freezing. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. A small room, shelves lining each wall, filled with bottles and cans. I was covered with a heavy blanket. Pulling it off, I stood up. There was a ladder straight ahead, leading to a horizontal door on the roof. A basement? I thought.

I pulled myself upwards, the metal ladder rungs freezing on my palms. Then I heard a voice. A waking, confused voice.

"Huh? Boy? You're awake?"

I whipped my head around and saw a figure laying beside where I woke at the back of the room. I knew my grandfathers voice, and this was not it. It was the Trapper. With all my strength, I pushed and heaved the metal door upwards and scrambled through the gap in a frenzy. I didn't know what to expect when I emerged, perhaps a kitchen or a dusty shed floor. But I was outdoors. I stood in awe.

I was on a snowy mountainside, overlooking Mystery Lake. The water was frozen solid, a deep-icy blue. The trees were powdered in white. The sky was illuminating, a canvas of greens and purples that waved infinitely in the darkness, a moon so colossal it seemed I could hit it with an arrow. Everything was frozen in time. Silent.

"Don't panic." His voice made me jump. I watched as the Trapper hauled himself from the bunker. He was frail , his eyes sunken, beard wiry and bristled. He stood at a respectful distance, his hands outstretched in that 'I ain't gonna hurt ya' kind of way. I tried to grasp the situation, but I couldn't recall anything. Back then, I couldn't even remember hiking to the Trapper's Homestead. I felt like my head was made of cotton, and every memory I tried to clutch seemed to scurry away into the depths of my mind. All I knew was that my Grandfather wasn't here.

"Where is my Granda?"

He pressed his finger against his lips, motioning me to be quiet.

Whispering, he said, "You have to trust me. I'll tell you everything that happened, just come back inside the bunker. This area is littered with wolves. Please".

He looked insane as the green Aurora lights reflected in his eyes, and he held out his hand.

"Come back in. We don't have much time. Your grandfather needs our help".