Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 124, Nos. 3 & 4. Whole Nos. 757 & 758, September/October 2004

By nine o’clock, the rain had stopped. Normally, when we were camped in the woods, this was the time we turned in, anticipating an early start the next morning. But on this night, the occasion being special, Mr. Walker wasn’t urging us towards our tents. He seemed quite content to sit chatting with Nick, peppering him with questions and occasionally trying to interest the rest of us with his low-key, “Did you hear that, boys?” or, “Say, fellows, isn’t that something?” Having been too late to get in on the Monopoly game, I’d tune in and out of that conversation and then try to pick up snatches of what Doug and Rick were saying to Rebecca. Rick must have run out of things to discuss with Faye. Now, when he could squeeze some words in around Doug, he was telling Rebecca about what we’d seen and done on the trip. Doug, on the other hand, was telling her about life in Toronto. Her eyes shifted back and forth, but they showed the most spark when Doug laid out a new tidbit.

I didn’t notice when the rain ended. I was too busy sending out signals to Nick, trying to will him to offer us some cookies or chocolate cake, although I had no idea if trapper families were big cake eaters. If I had been paying attention, I would have realized that the dogs had stopped whining.

I only noticed when Rebecca said something about constellations.

“What about the clouds?” Rick asked.

Rebecca laughed. “They’ll have blown by already, or they will soon.”

“Can we see the Northern Lights?” Doug asked. This was a kind of private joke with Doug, who had got me and Jerry, at the beginning of the trip, with what was obviously an old trick. “Do you want to see the Northern Lights in the daytime?” he had asked. “Sure,” I replied with enthusiasm. He had me put my jacket over my head and, while he held one arm up toward the sky, he told me to look up the sleeve. Then he poured a cup of water down from the cuff. He’d laughed considerably over that.

“Not tonight,” Rebecca said. “But I can point out lots of constellations. Tell you what they mean.”

That sounded good. I decided to join them. When they stood to go outside, Faye called Rebecca over and whispered to her. Rebecca said something back, in a whisper, too, but one of those harsh ones that can be more startling than a shout. Doug distracted everyone by announcing, louder than I had been brought up to believe was polite, that he had to relieve himself. Faye gave him another cold stare.

With Doug already gone, Rick waited for Rebecca and followed her to the door. He seemed anxious to be away, as if he didn’t want to wait for Doug to return. I started after them. Faye was watching. I waved to her and pointed upwards, to signify the sky and the constellations, but this may have just got her wondering what I’d spotted on her ceiling, because she frowned.

Rick didn’t notice that I was tagging along until we were outside.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To see the constellations,” I said, glancing up. The clouds had largely scattered, leaving a few tattered remnants and a fresco of stars.

“No, you’re not,” Rick said. He sounded rushed and annoyed. That wasn’t like him. Usually Rick was calm and patient, especially with the younger kids. The only person who ever seemed to annoy him was Doug.

“Why not?” I asked. “I’m interested.”

“I don’t care,” Rick snapped. Then he turned and looked around. “Where’s Rebecca?”

Although I had seen her go along the path that led away from the doghouses, I was so disappointed and hurt that I pointed with certainty in the wrong direction, towards the pack. “Don’t follow me,” Rick said nervously, looking towards where the dogs lurked. After a hesitant moment, he went that way.

In trying to find Rebecca, Rick may have gone too close to the doghouses, because I heard them snarl briefly, but they settled down, probably satisfied that they had frightened off an intruder.

With the dogs quiet, the silence of the night struck me again. It was a reminder of what Nick said: that in this country you were alone and you had to rely on yourself and do what was necessary to survive. The darkness intensified the feeling, for, even with light from the cabin’s windows through the trees, it was darker than any night at home.

I was still standing there a minute later, staring at the sky and trying uselessly to sort out its mysteries for myself, when Doug came back.

“Where’s Rebecca?” he asked.

“Over there,” I said, showing him the route she’d taken. Then I went back to looking at the stars.

Mr. Walker was sitting next to Faye, a snowshoe in his hands. She was explaining how to string it properly, keeping the gut aligned in the right way and the tension sufficient. He bent to the task with the deep concentration he had, his pipe smoking away as if it were the chimney for the steam engine that powered his mind.