Ice Country(6)

I rap firmly on the door, feeling every thud echo in my head. On the third knock the door opens and Jolie pokes her head out. “Dazz!” she exclaims, breaking into a huge smile that instantly warms my frozen body and soul. Her dark brown hair is in a long, tight braid down her back, almost to her waist. It’s not done exactly like how I would do it, but it’s close enough. When my dad died and my mother lost herself, I had to learn how to braid real quick, because Jolie wouldn’t have it any other way.

She rushes out into my arms and the cold. As always, she stands on the tops of my snow-capped boots, her socks getting soaked through. She’s getting so big that my toes get crushed under her weight, but I can’t bring myself to tell her. “You’ll catch the Cold,” I say, walking us both inside where I can feel the tempting heat from a crackling fire.

Face smashed against my chest, she says, “Are you staying for a while tonight?”

I can hear the memory in her voice, a desperate longing for another time, when life was simpler and nights were spent listening to Father’s stories by the fire, or playing sticks and rocks on the big bearskin rug between our beds.

But those days are long spent. “I’m sorry, Joles, there’s something I have to do.”

She steps off my feet and looks up at me all pouty mouthed. She calls it her sad sled dog face. “Fro-Yo’s,” she says, accusation in her voice.

“Uhhhh…” I wish? I can’t tell her the truth—about my fighting and getting banned from the pub. I hate lying to her, but I can’t let her down, not now when she needs a big brother to be proud of. “Nay, nothing like that. Actually, I have a job.” As if. The words just pop into my head, like my heart wished them into existence. But even just saying the words makes me feel a little lighter, like even pretending to be respectable in front of my sister makes me a better person.

Jolie’s eyes widen and her smile returns like a flint spark. “Really?”

I nod uncertainly, on an angle, like I’m not sure whether I’m saying yah or nay. She takes it as a yah. “That’s wonderful, Dazz! Does that mean I can come home soon?” Her hopeful words are like ice daggers shoved between my ribs and I find myself breathless.

She senses my hesitation. “Mom?” she says.

“She’s still pretty bad,” I admit. “But maybe soon,” I say, unable to resist giving her a small measure of happiness, even if it’s as false as the so-called job I have to do tonight.

“What’s the job?” Jolie asks, which is the natural question that I’m totally unprepared for. I’ve got to come up with something, and fast, because she’s looking at me with that cocked-head snowbird expression that usually makes me laugh.

“Master of Chance,” I say, once more going with the first thing that flashes to mind. Technically I won’t be the Master of Chance tonight, but I will be a master of chance of sorts as I participate in a few rounds of boulders-’n-avalanches.

“Congratulations,” she says, giving me another hug. Hopefully her congratulations will still be appropriate tomorrow, when I’ve quadrupled my tiny pouch of silver.

“Thanks, Joles,” I say, giving her a final squeeze. “See you tomorrow?”

“Promise?”

“Yah, Joles, I promise.” This one I’ll keep.

“Will you at least stay for supper, young man?” Clint says from across the room. I didn’t even notice the thin sandy-haired carpenter and his wife, silently preparing dinner and listening to us.

“Evenin’ sir and ma’am. Sorry, I didn’t see you there. I’d love to, but I really must be on my way. First day and all.” More like last night. If I’m not lucky, that is.

“Are you sure, sweetie?” Looza says, chiming in, her wide waist swinging from side to side as she mixes something in a big pot. “There’s plenny of soup.” As if to illustrate, she scoops up a ladleful of hearty stew, letting it slowly drip back into the mixture. My stomach rumbles as the delicious aroma of tender bear meat and winter vegetables fills my nostrils.

“I’ll take it with me, if that’s all right with you,” I say.

She sighs, but nods and begins filling a largish pouch.

“Bye, kid,” I say, kissing Jolie lightly on the forehead.

She steps back up onto my boots and I lean down so she can kiss my cheek. “Bye, Dazz. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, Joles,” I say, clenching my stomach around the empty pit that’s forming. I take the pouch from Looza and open the door. “Thank—” I start to say, but she muscles me outside, still holding onto her half of the pouch. She pulls the door shut on my sister.